Bitten - Emma Knight
Rachel lay there, in a puddle, floating on her back, looking up at the midnight sky. As she looked up, she saw the huge full moon, lighting up the clouds, which passed impossibly fast beneath it.
She heard a distant screeching noise, growing louder and louder, and the source of the noise came into view: thousands of thousands of bats began to swarm across the sky. Soon, the moonlit sky completely blackened with them. They swarmed together from both sides of the horizon, and met in the middle. As they did, they suddenly all took a turn, and dove down, right for Rachel. It was like an ever-growing tornado, its funnel widening, as the bats screeched, heading down to earth, right for her.
She tried to move, to get up, but as she did, she realized that her arms were stuck to the water—which now was not water but a pool of sticky blood. She pulled her head up just a few inches, just as far as it could go, just enough to see thousands more bats plunging towards her.
As they got closer, there appeared in front of her, a shadow, a figure. He bent down over her, and she looked up into his eyes, and saw those large, glowing, incandescent eyes, and recognized them instantly.
“Save me!” she pleaded to him, frantic.
As the bats came down to earth, now only feet away, Benji leaned back his head. As he did, his face turned impossibly pale, stark white, and long sharp fangs protruded from his teeth. He lowered his head, and sank his teeth right into her throat.
Rachel screamed out in pain as she felt them enter her. As she opened her mouth wider, screaming and screaming, the bats plunged down, right for her, and entered her screaming mouth.
Rachel woke up screaming. The room was dark, cold and smelled of must. She lay there on a firm mattress, under a thick, heavy quilt, looking up at the wooden four-poster bed with carved images of crosses at the top of each post.
She lay still, not moving a muscle. She feared something was different, and he wasn’t ready to face what had happened. Her mind raced with scenes of last night, but they were foggy, she couldn’t piece anything together.
Her eyes wandered about the room, scanning the marble mantle that surrounded the fireplace, which had a small, flickering fire. She glanced at the midnight-purple wallpaper, which she strangely felt soothed her eyes. She scanned the large cathedral-like ceilings and then looked to find the door. She didn’t remember coming into this room, and she wanted to find her way out. The door was at the back left of the enormous room she lay in; it was a big arched door, with iron locks and bolts on it. She prayed she wasn’t trapped.
Taking a moment to listen, Rachel sat up in bed. The mattress coils creaked, as if nobody had slept in that bed in centuries. Her body was achy as she turned from side to side, stretching her torso and neck. She peered off the bed and saw a deerskin rug at the foot, it’s head still on, mouth open and eyes staring at her. She got a chill down her spine.
She wanted to hide under the covers, but knew she wasn’t safe here. She had no idea where she was or what day it was. The room was pitch black, except for the small amount of light that the fireplace gave out.
Rachel slowly slid her body out of the heavy blankets and put her cold, bare feet on the stone floor. She had no clothes except for the oversized flannel shirt and shorts that she was wearing. Which, now that she thought about it, didn’t belong to her.
Still struggling to piece together what had happened, she began to remember. She saw flashes of Violet, Hunter, of policemen and sirens, flying vampires and fangs. She suddenly remembered Benji and vaguely remembered him flying her to this castle.
She walked quickly to the bedroom door to go and find him. She turned the large, brass circular handle and pulled hard. The door slowly opened, creaking at the hinges.
She slowly tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the long, dark corridor. Silence filled the air and the only noise she could hear was the sound of her own breath as she inhaled and exhaled. As she crept through the never-ending hallways, she saw small, porthole windows with black stained glass. It didn’t let in much light, but it