Chapter 43 #2
My eyes shoot open, hearing her speak. I shove her backwards off of me, and she falls onto her back. She shoots her head back up at me. If I could see her eyes, I could imagine there would be a glare staring right back at me.
I push up on my arms as I slowly climb out of the tub and stand over the hauntingly beautiful woman in front of me. I shakily snag the shampoo bottle and hold it up as I tower over her with a glare, clenching my jaw.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, how you fucking got in here, or if I’m having the worst trip of my life—but you need to LEAVE,” I snap at her, refusing to let this high take over me.
She laughs manically as blood seeps out of her mouth.
“You don’t get to tell me when to leave.
You summoned me, Bluebird.” She grins at me, flicking her split tongue out as she licks the blood from her lips…
my blood. I shiver as I lift my weapon of hair product above my head, threatening to toss it at her.
“What do you mean summoned?”
She shoots up to a standing position without pushing herself up, and I stagger back as my hand drops slightly as she towers over me now.
“You called my name.” She prowls closer to me, leaning above me, taking another inhale of what I assume is my blood.
“Bloody Mary at your service,” she purrs as I swing under her arms to get closer to the door of the bathroom.
I get to the door and find that it won’t budge.
I try to shimmy it open when I realize it’s locked somehow.
She chuckles, and I spin around, watching her observe my blatant panic.
Shit, shit, SHIT. I internally freak out.
She places her hand on my shoulder as I continue to try to rip the door open. She strokes her nails along my arm, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
“You owe me a debt, Bluebird. You summoned me, and I am here to take what I am owed.”
“I–I–I didn’t know what I was doing. I swear, I was just testing an urban legend. You’re not even real. This is just a bad trip.”
She laughs at my panic. “Oh, silly little bird. You are nothing more than my blood bag now. I am very much real.”
I slam my shoulder against the door once more when I am thrown off balance as it swings open abruptly.
I startle, squealing, as I rush out of the bathroom back into the bedroom.
A brief sense of relief floods me, but quickly evaporates when the woman appears in front of me again.
I let out a startled scream, rushing to the other door that leads out of the hallway when the dresser slides across the floor, blocking the exit.
I scream again, looking around in panic.
Suddenly remembering the window, I rush towards it only to find the seductive demon sprawled across the windowsill bench.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” She shakes her head.
I halt my steps, the rapid pounding of my heart rate overtaking all other sounds, the blood from my cut bleeding more freely. Dizziness overtakes my vision as each second passes.
“Panicking will not help you now, Bluebird.” She remains lying on the bench, staring at what I think is the ceiling.
My thoughts race in confusion as I stare back at her.
Her dress is slightly tattered, but the lace across her chest and arms is delicate and sensual.
Her long, dark hair is waved with braids throughout, falling across her shoulders.
She turns her head to face me and grins, baring all her pointed teeth. They’re white as the moon with their tips slightly stained pink from what I assume is the trace of my blood. “Observing me like a snack as well?”
I scoff, “Absolutely not. I’m just trying to understand what you are.”
She hisses at me, “I am a woman.”
“You are a demon,” I snap back.
She sits up and turns her whole body towards me.
“I am a ghost. How else would I have been able to come through the mirror? The mirror is an entry point to the veil. You just so happened to summon me while I was watching you.” She grins.
I shiver at her insinuation, but feel heat bloom between my legs at the thought that she has been watching me the entire time I’ve been in this mansion. I flush, remembering my moments of release, and watch her grin turn absolutely feline.
“It looks like we have ourselves a little exhibitionist, hmm?” I find myself rendered speechless with slight embarrassment at her callout. She’s the one who was watching me! I lift my chin at her,
“And you’re quite the voyeurist,” I snap back at her.
She stands up and circles me, humming softly as she looks me up and down behind the lace hiding her eyes. I don’t see them, but I can feel them caressing me. I shiver. “We will be quite the match this evening. I am quite excited to watch you bleed for me.”
I freeze at her words, the reality of our situation surfacing back through our flirty banter, and whip my head towards her. “Don’t kill me, please,” I whisper softly, feeling the fight slowly fade.
She halts in front of me and cocks her head to the side, glancing towards the mirror, then back at me.
“You carry spirits,” she says matter-of-factly.
My blood goes cold, knowing exactly who she is insinuating are the spirits following me.
She takes a slow breath, her posture changing as she observes my tension and grief shatter across my face.
I try to hide it, but my lip wobbles slightly.
She lifts her hand, tracing my bottom lip with the tip of her pointer finger.
“Do not worry. Your life will not be lost in your spilled blood. It is not your time yet. Your family sends their love, though.” She glances back at the mirror in the bathroom and clenches her jaw, looking back at me.
“You may not see them, but they are with you.” I feel a tear drop from my eye, my lower lip wobbling as I try to hold in the dam that is begging to crack open in my chest. Her smile turns gentle as she watches my emotions.
“You’ll break for me, Bluebird. But, it will be ravishing. ”
The ghost, Mary, drastically changes into a fog as the bathroom door clicks shut.
She appears, facing me. “Privacy, if you will.” She grins as she walks towards me, a slight sway to her hips drawing my attention as I wipe the tear from my cheek.
She lifts her hands, and the lights dim further, creating a more sensual ambience.
She traces her nail gently along my cheek as I swallow.
Fear rushes through my body at what is to come, but there is a part of me wondering what exactly it will be, the what if of this moment becoming one of slight excitement.
I have a strong pain tolerance—callouses all over my hands from working on endless cars, to, let's be honest, poor coping habits. I glance at my pants where the hidden scars on my thighs lie and bite my lip. I’ve had a few injuries from the garage, but I would always shake those off and get back to work.
The hours alone at home, though? That pain was different.
I did anything to feel something greater than the cavern in my chest. I have never dwelled on physical pain, but something tells me this will mark my soul forever.
Am I really going to let this demon—this ghost—do whatever it wants with my blood… for my blood? What if this becomes some demon ritual and I become tied to her? I swallow hard, my mind clouded with the unanswered questions.
“You’ve already drunk my blood,” I state shakily. I clear my throat, annoyed at my fear sneaking through in my tone.
“No, Bluebird. The blood must be given freely. That was just a taste,” she purrs as I glare at her.
“You didn’t need my consent to drink from the wound on my head before,” I growl back. I lift my hand, feeling the cut dried up and my hair matted with its sticky texture. I’m sure the blood is vibrant in contrast to the light blue of my hair.
“It was dripping freely. It was simply a means of cleaning it up.” She flicks her tongue out at me, and the fear mixes with a shame-filled sense of lust. Why am I feeling attracted to this ghost of a woman?
This demon, who demands my blood for summoning her when I didn’t want her here in the first place.
But something about her is appealing to my urges.
Her skin is borderline translucent, glowing with a faint white and blue aura that radiates around her when she is in her corporeal form.
Her breasts are pushed up high from the corset around her waist, the lace showing peeks of her skin—skin that is shimmery and smooth.
She’s taller than me too, towering over me a handful of inches, forcing me to look up at her to see her face.
“How do we do this? Do I just… let you cut me?”
She shakes her head at me, walking towards me until my butt hits the foot of the bed, and I sit down.
She places both hands on the sides of me as she whispers, “You must spill your blood freely for me. I can’t return through the mirror without fresh blood of the summoner.
Your blood gives me strength.” Her nail traces up and down the side of my neck, causing me to shiver under her caress.
This is so wrong, but why do I like it? Her breasts are so close to my face, I salivate slightly at their proximity.
She smells divine. You’d think a ghost obsessed with blood would smell like decay, but no, she smells like warm amber mixed with oranges.
My eyes flutter closed as I find myself pressing my nose closer to the lace on her chest, inhaling her scent.
I hear no sound other than my quickened breaths, observing that her chest is not moving like mine.
She’s not breathing. No shit. She’s fucking dead.
I fling my eyes open, remembering that she’s a ghost, and scoot back further on the bed.
“Don’t let others’ perceptions of what may be wrong or right dictate what you want, Bluebird. You have spent too long hiding in the open. Succumb to your desires.” She climbs over me, and the weight of her body settles softly on top of mine.
I exhale as I stare into what would be her eyes. “It’s wrong. This is wrong. You’re a ghost. I still don’t even know what you want from me,” I sputter out. She disappears in an instant, and I find her back at the windowsill, looking outside at the snow softly falling from the sky.
“I will not tell you what to do; you must make that decision for yourself. But, I will remain haunting you until the summons is complete. I must say, I tend to get feisty as time goes on.” She grins at me, and I swear her teeth sharpen. This is the worst fucking high ever.