I look at you in confusion, barely able to distinguish your voice from the voices in my head. For a moment I think it's the ghosts come back to haunt me, but as you stop talking I can hear it more clearly: a dark whisper in my mind that chills me to the bone. Suddenly, I realise that I'm reading your thoughts, for the first time since you turned me. And your thoughts aren't pretty. I don't mind the insult so much - I was an idiot, wanting to meet a vampire - it's the underlying threat that makes me freeze where I lie. I think back on all the threats you made, about staking me naked for the sunrise. What if this is your plan, in the long run? To terminate me the moment I become a threat?
You pause, as though sensing something's wrong, and it spurs me into action. I'm weak and shaky and I can't heal properly without fresh blood. I use it as an excuse for the delay, as I drag myself after you on all fours. For now, it's all I can do - for now, you hold all the power over me.
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I'm a wicked, vile, horrible and perfect man. - the Savage, during one of his more modest moments.
"I'm a sex addict - it's my cross to bear." - from "The Blades of Glory"
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