35 - Dangerous Person

Light TW for SA

Close call / implication

Please read at your own discretion

Ailsa

By the time the sun has fallen and the sky has turned a deep blue, I'm completely decided.

I won't be marrying Douglas. It's a firm decision, one that wont be taken back now that it's been made. I would rather die than marry the filthy boy with a filthy mind.

If I'll die anyway, then why not make it on my own terms?

The grin that makes an appearance on my face won't fade, it's permanently in place while I get ready for bed, thinking of the exciting plan that I've finally decided is my fate. Nothing can erase this dream, nothing can stop me now.

Fraser and I will run away together, and we'll run far away where no one can find us or hurt us.

The plan isn't solid, besides the strong determination I have to make it happen, but I don't know anything besides that. The key is still a mystery, and how I can possibly sneak out enough supplies is also an issue.

My confidence assures me that all those things will be dealt with and I have nothing to worry about. Everything will work out because it has to. I've been dealt a bad hand, but there must be something good in the future to make up for it, there just has to be.

Life comes with good and bad, its about the balance of the give and the take.

Gentry notices my good mood as she undoes my twirling hairdo and brushes out my locks. She gives me an odd look as we meet eyes in the mirror.

"Are you that pleased, lass?" She wonders, and I nod ruefully, the curls left from my hairstyle bouncing along with my head.

"So you are glad at your father's choice?" Gentry presses further, tilting her head doubtfully as if the iea is impossible.

I laugh, covering my mouth to keep my humor contained. So, it would seem even she thinks little of my betrothed.

"No, but I will admit I am feeling more optimistic." I say, snuggling into my nightgown that she pulks over my head. "I'm happy."

Surely that's easy enough to understand.

She doesn't push the subject anymore, even letting a yawn slip herself as she tucks me into bed and leaves me be for the night.

After all the candles are extinguished and the clan has retired to their beds, I come out of hiding.

I can't wait to see Fraser after making my decision. I'm going to tell him all about it, and propose our life together from here on out. I hope he'll accept. I hope he'll be as excited as I am. I hope beyond hope that he'll have an idea to execute the dangerous escape we need to make.

I'll inform of his vampire friend lurking in the trees outside, and maybe that man will help us too. It will all fall into place just as it was always meant to.

Tonight, as I stroll through the halls to my love, theres a slight bounce in my step due to my happy mood.

I feel invincible tonight. The air smells sweeter and my body feels looser. It's as if nothing can go wrong, but I can't say I'm right about things very often.

My body is seized and shoved in a dark alcove, hot breath on my neck and a dark, high pitched laugh forced into my ear. My lantern goes flying and it shatters somewhere in the dark, the light vanishing with the force of it.

Just like the flame, I'm put out and empty as my freedom is once again taken away so easily.

One whiff and my stomach groans, my throat tightening. I should have been more careful. I should have been quieter. I was reckless and out in the open and now I'm in the arms of a dangerous person.

Douglas handles me like a sack, not considering my comfort as he mercilessly pushes me against the hard, cold wall behind me. His bony hands find my neck, and he gives it a painful squeeze.

I gulp, wriggling as I try to loosen his hold with my body, but his fingers only tighten.

"You thought I would'nt find out about your filthy little lie? You wanted to scare me off, thought I'd stay away for good, but I'm no so easily disposed of." He seethes, giving me a shake, making the back of my skull bounce against the stones. "You think me a fool?!"

I pinch my lips together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response. I know that if I spoke now my voice would tremble harder than my hands. I dont wnt him to know just how scared he's made me.

"Answer me!" Douglas demands, and again I remain silent.

"Very well, if you wont speak I'll just have to give you a wee little peak at what will happen I'm your husband and you make a fool out of me." He's fumbling with his clothing, and I'm sure that my heart stops for a handful of moments.

My resolve to stay strong and show no emotion crumbles as tears spring to my eyes. My lungs seize, a feeling I'm used to, but it's fueled by the panic and something feels extremely wrong with my body as it solidifies like ice.

I dont realize I'm falling until I land on the ground, everything around me muted and fuzzy.

"What's happened! What are you doing?" I wish I could tell him that what I'm doing is not breathing, but I cant open my mouth.

With a stabbing pain in my throat and my side, I realize this is the absolute worst lung attack I've ever had. Nothing compares, nothing comes even close to this misery.

Its the same burning, the same yearning for air, but multiplied to the point of a savage overload.

My hands come up to claw at my chest, blinking at the person above me, his face creased with disgust and panic. Then, he's gone, and I hear nothing and feel nothing. Everything in me is hurt and everything is gone, replaced with the blackness of the ceiling above me.

I buck and writhe on the ground, my eyes going glossy as my fight comes to an end and there is no strength left.

I know that this must be the end of me, and I hate it.

I despise the cold fingers of death creeping up my back, I despise the way that pain and suffering are never on my terms and never at the right moment.

Most of all I hate that I won't get to see Fraser's face one last time. His smile. His eyes gleaming with mischief. It's all gone and he'll wonder where I went.

No, he won't wonder. He'll know. He'll have to know.

If there is a God, I hope He hears me curse him as I lose the fight and slip into darkness.

Fraser

When two hefty human men rattle down the stairs in a drunken stupor, I have to hide my disappointment that its not my sweet little inmate coming to rescue me from monotony again.

Laird Sinclair and Laird Ramsay are a pair to be sure.

They may be different in many ways, Ramsay a striping viking type with red hair and Laird Sinclair has a receding hairline and a gut that proves he drinks ale more often than he should.

It's plain to see that they have more in common than anything. For starters they both carry a bottle of whiskey and are laughing as they trip over themselves.

Drunk bastards. Figures. Human men are weak and always sink to their desires without a second thought.

"Here he is, see I told you! I've captured a vampire, a monster. I'm mighty clever, aren't I?" Sinclair jabbers, his speech slurred and uneven, much like the man himself.

Laird Ramsey closes in on me, but I refuse to sit down. I'm standing to my full height which is almost equal to his own stature, ensuring that we see eye to eye.

"He doesn't look like much to me." Ramsey says, feigning indifference with a shrug of his massive shoulder.

He can pretend all he wants, but I see right through the act. It's taken me years, but I'm grand at spotting liars when I need to. I can see the deep, unsettled fear in his eyes as if he can't quite understand why he's so afraid of me. He chooses the lesser taken path, ignore the fear and maybe it will go away.

Ramsay couldn't be more wrong.

"How can you even tell he's a monster? He seems a regular enough man to me."

Ailsa's father cuffs with laughter.

"You should see him when I give him some blood, the beast gobbles it up like he's never seen food." Sinclair says, shaking his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, what are you planning on doing with the fella?"

"That's just it you see, I'm trying all sorts of things on him, learning what makes the lab tick." Sinclair watches me with his beady eyes, hungry and curious and filled to the brim with greed. "I want to know how I can control him."

This is a revelation to me, and I perk up at this sudden bout of information, but never saying a word.

Sinclair turns to Ramsay, giddy to explain his perfect plan.

"You see, whoever controls the strongest of the beasts becomes the most powerful, isn't it obvious?" He explains, waving an arm at me.

So that's why I'm here. My jaw clenched as I consider it.

This man really thinks he can turn me into his own personal puppet.

Ramsay's eyes never leave me, the color of them a glimmer of blue that look as if they see too much, even in a drunken haze.

"I'll admit, do you have big aspirations, Sinclair." He clapped his companion on the shoulder as they turned to head back up the stairs, still staggering. "I'll believe it when I see it. As it is, my son will be marrying your daughter, I suppose will have to share in this power, won't we?"

I don't miss the fact that, as they clumber of the stone scares, Sinclair remain silent. The door clicks shut and all my power leaves me.

I start pacing, biting at my nails as insanity claws at my vision.

A stabbing pain erupts out of nowhere right in my ribcage, and I groan, collapsing onto my hands and knees. I gasp, rubbing at my ribs.

The unexpected attack robs me of my wits and balance. I cough, desperate to make the pain go away, but it persists.

It lasts for several minutes. It's as if the breath has been stolen from me.

And as quickly as it came, it's over and gone.

What in the blazes was that?