Dance Until Dawn

by Berni Stevens

‘No.’

  ‘You just want to torture me.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Rape me.’

  ‘I do not condone rape.’

  ‘Kill me.’

  ‘You are already dead.’

  I felt the cold realisation of utter despair. This man would never release me. Whatever his plans were, getting me a cab home wasn’t among them. I had never felt so alone in my life. I might live alone, but I was rarely there on my own. I was rarely there period. Rehearsals, matinee shows, and evening performances all took up most of my waking hours.

  Shit.

  Rehearsals.

  ‘I have to go to work,’ I said. ‘I’m late for rehearsal.’

  ‘I think your colleagues would be rather alarmed to see you.’

  ‘What?’ I looked at him again and he returned my look calmly.

  ‘You have not been at work for five weeks, maybe more.’

  ‘Five weeks? Why?’ Horror filled me afresh at this new information.

  ‘It is rather unusual for dead people to continue with their former careers in my experience.’

  ‘There you go again with the dead people crap,’ I muttered. ‘Can I have a mirror?’

  ‘I fear a mirror will not be of any use to you.’

  ‘Why?’ I wish someone would give me my brain back …

  ‘Vampires cast neither reflections nor shadows.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ I said bitterly. ‘If I believed in vampires, which for your information, I don’t.’

  ‘How terribly unfortunate for us both.’ An amused tone had crept into his deep voice.

  So it seemed I’d lost my job, as well as being imprisoned by a blood-drinking, vampire-obsessed psychopath, plus I could never put makeup on again because I didn’t have a reflection, apparently. Nothing left for me then. He had obviously been removing my identity … or something … for ages. Wasn’t there a film about that too? I held my head in my hands, trying to keep track of the frantic thoughts as they whirled around.

  ‘Who or what are you?’

  ‘You may call me Will.’

  ‘I can think of things I’d rather call you,’ I replied. ‘So what are you? You say you aren’t a lunatic, so what are you? Serial killer? Rapist? Or just a pervert?’

  He walked towards me again, and I scuttled up the bed away from him.

  ‘I am your sire. Your maker, if you like,’ he began. ‘Like you, I too am a vampire, although I have been a vampire for over three hundred years.’

  ‘You need to get out more,’ I shook my head again. ‘Take my advice and ditch the horror DVDs, they’re melting your psycho brain.’

  ‘I understand that this is rather a lot to take in,’ he said. ‘But I would appreciate it if you would stop referring to me as either psychotic or perverted.’

  ‘Well I’d appreciate not being kidnapped and shut in this filthy hole.’

  ‘Touché.’

  Will moved away from me, then turned suddenly to pin me with his emerald gaze.

  ‘It is imperative that you feed soon,’ he said, his voice still calm but with a thread of something else in it now. It sounded like fear … but no … surely it couldn’t be.

  ‘And if I won’t?’ I looked down at the red stain on the floor again.

  ‘You will not survive.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ I asked.

  ‘Fact.’

  ‘I will not drink blood.’

  ‘I am very much afraid you will have to.’

  I did look up at him then. He still held the phial in his left hand.

  ‘I have no idea who or what the hell you are, but I am not drinking blood, you—you disgusting pervert!’ My voice rose to a near hysterical scream at the end of the sentence. I could feel tears fill my eyes again, which threatened to fall, and I struggled to prevent them.

  He sighed and bent to retrieve the stopper from the phial. After he had replaced it, he slipped the phial into his coat pocket and got out a pack of cigarettes. He put one between his lips, struck a match, and lit it, regarding me over the glow from the flame. I watched him from my safe distance.

  ‘Very well,’ he began, ‘allow me to tell you a few home truths.’

  I went to speak, but he raised his hand with an authoritative gesture, and I fell silent.

  ‘Against my better judgement I have allowed you to give vent freely to your anger and frustration. You have, I believe, used most of the obscene language in the English-speaking world. Now you will listen to me, if you value your survival.’

  I felt another thrill of fear slice through me at his cold words, but said nothing.

  ‘In order to survive in our world, you have to feed. The food of the vampire is blood. If you do not feed, your flesh will wither and fall from your bones, yet you will not die. Your beauty will be lost, and your mind—you will be lost, and that I cannot allow.’

  I made no comment. The man was mad, clearly deranged, and I was his prisoner. If I said anything he didn’t like, he might turn into a raging maniac. He looked strong. I felt sure he could pull me apart with his bare hands.

  ‘Yet you still do not believe me.’

  I looked at him. He looked so calm and reasonable, standing there smoking his cigarette. The feeble light from the sputtering lamp chased some of the shadows from his handsome face and illuminated those incredible eyes. I shook my head slowly. He leaned away from the wall to extinguish his cigarette.

  ‘I have no idea why your first attempt at feeding made you sick, I have never before witnessed such a phenomenon. I can only surmise it is because you have retained more humanity than most during the change. But then, I always knew you were unique.’

  I thought he might have been making a joke, but if he was, his face showed no sign of humour.

  ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ I retorted.

  He raised his eyebrows at that and walked slowly back towards me.

  ‘Your name is Elinor Jane Wakefield but most people call you Ellie. You are twenty-five years old and a dancer by profession. You live alone, or at least you used to live alone, in a first floor apartment in a Victorian house in Crouch End, North London. You are an only child, your parents are dead, and you were brought up by foster parents, whom you left at the tender age of eighteen to attend dance college. You enjoy going to popular music concerts and festivals and you dance like an angel.’

  I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. How the hell did he know all that? Will continued, his face still impassive.

  ‘I also know that you have never been truly in love, which is something I intend to rectify.’

  The sheer arrogance of the man astounded me almost more than his in-depth knowledge of my life.

  ‘Now I know you’re insane,’ I spat.

  ‘A trifle optimistic I grant you. But insane? No.’

  ‘What are you going to do to me?’

  I felt a rush of cool air, and found myself pinned to the wall so suddenly, and with such force, that my head smacked into it. I saw stars for a split second. His strong hands held my arms above my head and, once again, I hadn’t seen him move.

  I stifled a panicky scream of terror. He regarded me almost lazily as he traced one elegant finger softly down my cheek, and brought it to rest against my lips, his other hand easily keeping both of mine captive. My face tingled where he had touched it – ice and fire at the same time. He prised my mouth open with his finger and ran it lightly over my canine teeth. His breath was cool on my face as he spoke in quiet even tones. ‘Have you not felt the change in your teeth child? Have you not ran your tongue over those oh-so-delicate points?’

  I swallowed the hysteria rising in my throat. I would not let him see how afraid I was.

  I would not. I chose not to answer his question, either.
I merely stared defiantly into his eyes.

  He leaned in even nearer, and spoke softly, his lips very close to mine. Almost touching, but not quite.

  His words sounded strangely loud. ‘If my main objective was merely to have sex with you, would I not have taken my pleasure many times already?’

  Still I didn’t answer. His close proximity was having a strange effect on me. His lips were close enough to kiss and … I … wanted to. My eyes widened at the thought and he swiftly drew back, just far enough away so he could see my eyes. His look was mocking now.

  ‘What do you think you could ever do to stop me taking whatever I want?’ He released me abruptly, and I let out a shaky breath as he moved away across the room.

  The silence between us became almost tangible but he didn’t seem inclined to break it. Reaching into his coat pocket, he brought out the silver phial, and turned it slowly in his hands, almost reverently.

  ‘I won’t drink blood again, and you can’t make me,’ I said quickly.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of attempting to swallow the repellent stuff again.

  Will shot me a serious look. ‘I should not have to make you. You should yearn to drink blood, in fact, your very essence should be filled with desire for the taste.’

  ‘Well it isn’t.’ I yelled at him in agony and sheer frustration, clutching my stomach as the pain seared through it again. ‘You just want me dead.’

  Will came closer again and stared down at me. ‘If I wanted you truly dead, little fledgling, trust me on this, you would be very dead. Although you are indeed dead to the human world, you still exist, as do I. But in order to remain in existence you have to feed.’

  ‘I won’t drink blood!’ I almost screamed the words in despair. ‘I just can’t.’

  Will continued to stare down at me, his arms folded. ‘If you are really adamant that you will not feed tonight, then I should warn you that you will feel even worse tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘So what?’ I asked.

  ‘So you must at least try to take some blood. I am afraid it is the only way.’

  I gripped the edge of the bed, and stared at my trainers. They looked so normal. How could anything look that normal when nothing would ever be the same again? Will was still and quiet, as he observed me intently. I could feel his eyes on me even though I wasn’t looking at him. I pressed my hands to my stomach as the pain started up again.

  ‘If you would permit me to simply hold you, the pain will lessen,’ said Will.

  I looked up at him in surprise. ‘I’d rather have the pain,’ I ground out through gritted teeth.

  He didn’t try to force the issue, and I felt glad he didn’t. If he was in any way put out by my refusal, it certainly didn’t show. He merely shrugged and walked to the other side of the room. Lighting another cigarette, he watched me with his eyes slightly narrowed, as though his thoughts were too scary to share.

  ‘How long do you intend to defy me?’ he asked after a few minutes.

  I looked at my trainers again. ‘Who died and made you King?’

  ‘Ah, the sulky child act.’

  I did look up at him then, and a flood of hot anger suddenly suffused my whole body. ‘I have every right to be sulky and angry!’ I shouted. ‘I didn’t choose to be here. You brought me here for some revolting purpose that I don’t even want to think about. I want to go home.’

  ‘This is your home now.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ I almost spat back. ‘Very cosy. Locked up in a disgusting, damp cell with no lights, no bathroom and not even a change of clothes.’

  Will merely raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Why am I here?’

  ‘You are here in order to remain safe and undetected by the human world.’

  ‘But I am human,’ I began, but faltered when I saw his expression.

  ‘I am afraid you are no longer human. As I constantly have to explain, you are now a vampire, and a very young vampire at that. I am your maker, and it is my dubious pleasure to instruct and care for you.’

  ‘So I really am dead then?’ I was finding our conversations becoming ever more bizarre. ‘If that’s true … you must have murdered me already.’

  ‘I sired you. Brought you over. It is not the same as murder,’ he replied.

  ‘Bloody well is from where I’m sitting,’ I said.

  ‘Dead is just dead,’ he shrugged elegantly. ‘We are undead, we do not age, we cannot contract any disease, and we are extremely difficult to kill.’

  ‘Sunlight would do it.’ I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation. I must have surely been deep within some weird nightmare.

  ‘Indeed it would,’ he agreed conversationally. ‘Why else would you be in my cellar where there are no windows?’

  ‘I hate the dark.’ I shook my head slowly as I realised he had actually told me I was in his cellar. His cellar? ‘I really hate the dark.’

  ‘That could be yet another potential problem for a creature of the night.’

  I looked up swiftly. I thought he might have made another joke at my expense, but no expression showed on his face. His eyes held a wicked glint, however, and I held his gaze briefly before I looked down again.

  ‘So you have brought me to this existence on some kind of whim?’

  ‘I never have whims.’

  ‘You must just be a selfish bastard then. You came along and took me from my life and forced me into yours without so much as a by your leave. You gave me no choice … I wanted children one day … ’ my voice cracked in anguish at that thought.

  A strange look passed across his face at my outburst, and he was silent for a while as though mulling over my angry words.

  ‘You are right,’ he said at last, surprising me. ‘I am a selfish bastard. I tend to take what I want when I want it, but regrets will not solve anything now.’

  Another uneasy silence grew between us. Eventually I looked up at him. He just stared at me, his expression guarded.

  I clutched at my stomach as the Thirst attacked me again.

  ‘Help me,’ I gasped.

  Suddenly it was as if Will had changed his own personal channel, flicked a switch that said ‘normal Will’ and the previous conversation had never taken place.

  ‘It would be so much easier, for us both, if you would accept that which you cannot change, and allow me to help you move on,’ he replied, his voice still quiet.

  ‘Why should I make things easy for you?’ I said, and gasped at another surge of pain. ‘I don’t even know who the hell you are. You’re nothing to me.’

  ‘The fact that I am your maker means we have an unbreakable bond whether you like it or not.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Although it rather appears to be “not” at the moment.’

  ‘So, I’m stuck with you,’ I retorted. ‘I don’t have to like you.’

  He burst out laughing at that, which startled me. I watched him warily. This mercurial Will was disconcerting, to say the least.

  ‘No, you do not have to like me, little fledgling,’ he said, with laughter still in his deep voice, ‘but you will, given time.’

  ‘In your dreams, sunshine,’ I muttered as the pain in my stomach grew stronger. ‘Leave me the hell alone.’ I curled up on the bed again like a wounded animal and closed my eyes. I didn’t hear Will walk away. All I heard was the slight creak of the door as it opened.

  ‘You have yet to meet the others too,’ he said from the door. ‘That should be most entertaining.’

  I heard the key in the lock. It clicked with a sound of finality.

  I opened my eyes, so I could watch the door in case he came back, then listened for a few minutes, but there was nothing to be heard except the occasional drip of water. He didn’t come back, so I curled up on the bed, with my arms around my stomach. At least when
he was in the room, I had something else to concentrate on, even if it was only the arguments. Alone, I just felt weak and ill.

  I wondered why he hadn’t insisted that I try to feed again. Perhaps he was bored of me already and wouldn’t come back any more. The pains in my stomach intensified, and I raked my nails down my arms in an effort to counteract the all-consuming pain of the Thirst – if that really was the cause.

  ‘Someone help me,’ I whispered into the darkness.

  I closed my eyes and longed for a release of any kind. To escape from this interminable pain. Death would be preferable to this.

  12 February

  I confess to some considerable anxiety about the fledgling’s lack of desire to feed.

  She must have sustenance soon or the pain from the Thirst will become all-consuming and it will erode her mind until her brain no longer functions. Once this happens I cannot help her, and she will have to be destroyed. I cannot even contemplate the horror of such an outcome.

  But I will not give up on her. If I have to force-feed her, I will do so. I refuse to lose her now.

  Perhaps this is the outcome of my turning an intelligent woman from the twenty-first century. Women today are so different from the women of my own era. Modern women are confident in their ability to live their lives as they wish. They often live alone without man or family and I have found this strange beyond belief. My little fledgling has lived alone for years, and quite happily, it seems. She forged a career from her own talent, and worked hard to maintain that career.

  I will not lose her to the Thirst.

  I will not.

  Chapter Three

  Desperation

  I opened my eyes to yet another dark and lonely night. I sat up and groaned at the now familiar pain that ravaged my body. Will had warned me that I might feel worse unless I fed, and feel worse I certainly did. Fully awakening from the blessed unconsciousness to this painful awareness certainly held no joy for me. The tortuous agony raged around inside me like a trapped voracious beast over which I had no control.

  In a pathetic effort to fight the pain, I rampaged around the small cellar and screamed out loud, as I smashed my fists against the walls until I bled.