Lothaire squinted his eyes to look past the dark, dingy cell he is kept in.
The smell caught in his nose and he wheezed trying to dislocate it. After so many years, he must have gotten used to it. He should. But no matter how many times he opens his eyes after a long day, the smell assaults his nostrils.
He turned to the side, trying to warm his body. The floor is cold. Always cold... and damp. Encased in the lowest dungeon of the building, this place never gets any air.
Wind trapped within these silver bars just like him as if it too is suffocating beside him. He lifted his hand chains and all and rubbed his eyes.
The chains have left red, angry marks around his wrists and legs. He fears they are cutting him, slowly sawing through his flesh and bone.
His legs are no better. Nails broke; big red marks scattered all over his body. Marks made by vermin he couldn't get away from. Hence, he stayed out and let them have their meal.
He was not like this before. At least he hoped he was not. Because he woke up in this cage many years ago with no memory of anything. His mind is a total blank slate, empty, barren of knowledge like the water in a desert.
He tried to think, meditate. Tried to struggle, hoping, praying that he would get free from this place. But the chains bound him.
If they had been normal ones, he would have escaped long ago. But no, they are enchanted. Bound to him by sorcery so powerful that only a trick of another mage can unbind him. And he is by no means a mage.
No. Lothaire is a vampire. A vampire with amnesia. If it's not the start of a bad joke then he doesn't know what is. Lothaire gave a dry chuckle, amusing himself.
His throat is patched. He tried to swallow trying to wet it, pretending he was drinking blood instead of his own saliva. Yes, illusion helps.
It is the only companion he has in this morbid place.
How long has it been since he last drank? A month... two?
From the experience he gained since he woke up here, a vampire can't go without blood for more than 15 days. Yet he is kept starved and chained for 2 months before blood is given to him. Some relief. It is not enough to quench his thirst but enough to make him survive some more days.
He never found out why he is bound, what they want from him. He stopped voicing his thoughts a few years back. His prolonged silence added to his quiet surroundings making it the belly of a tomb. A tomb that is eating him slowly, burying him alive.
The screeching sound of the iron bars alerted him to the arrival of that woman. During his captivity, he encountered her and a couple of guards. Other than them, there was no other soul darkening this place with his presence.
Pleading is not in Lothaire's nature. He never begged for anything as far as he knows. He can bet his life even without his memories. Yet when the woman first appeared before his chained form, he tried to bargain with her, offering himself for his release.
A real Low for him but he was desperate at that time-starved and thirsty for blood for 3 months. He was afraid he is going to go mad from inside out, wanting to tear his insides for that few drops of blood that would release him from this torture.
She laughed at his face. A high-pitched screeching sound urged him to cover his ears. But he remained docile and subservient, everything against his nature to get those few drops.
She has mocked him, at his pleas nevertheless she has given the blood packet to him. Not because he amused her, but because she saw something in his eyes, they feared her.
From then on, she came regularly with those blood packets, never letting him cross the edge. Always at the precipice of his sanity.
He gritted his back teeth as anger built inside him. If only he is strong enough to tear these chains from the wall. Lothaire has tried that too. There is nothing he hasn't tried. Breaking his hand, biting it until it became slippery with his blood, pulling them with all of his strength... the list goes on.
But it never worked. He has given up on hoping to get out of this place alive. After years of nothing but darkness surrounding him, with only silence as his companion he has given up on hope.
Hence it came as a surprise when he heard the bounce in her footsteps.
She whirled across the corner and met him, her eyes elated with suppressed giddiness.
"Lothaire..." she said huskily. He only came to know his name when she used it the first time. Until then he doesn't even have that comfort.
She threw the packet at his feet as if throwing a bone to a dog. By this point, he doesn't give a fuck if she tears and pools it on the floor. He would have licked it off. He is that thirsty.
Without meeting her eyes, his trembling hand grabbed the packet and enthusiastically brought it close to his mouth.
His fangs ripped the side of the packet and he gulped, swallowing before it hit his tongue. At last, when only less than a pint remained, he slowed down, savoring its rich taste in his mouth and taking time before swallowing.
He only met her eyes after finishing it. The woman he is sure by now is a mage, smirked at him.
"Do you want to get out of this cage Lothaire?" She questioned innocently.
However, he has learned her tricks by now. Hence, he kept quiet, not deeming her with an answer.
"Awww... I thought he would ask me. After all, we are friends, right? I'm the only one who cares about you in this place. You should be more considerate of me Lothaire. I could leave and not step foot in this place anytime."
Lothaire listened to her usual prattle. She always preens around him as if she is gracing him with her generosity. But he is sure that she will come back. He doesn't know what purpose he is serving her, only that his survival is important to her. That is enough for him now.
His eyes throwing daggers of hatred, he scrutinized her. The woman got angry as she gazed at him. How dare he look his nose at her? She is the only one standing between him and his certain death.
" Soon Lothaire... Pretty soon, you will take your last breath,' the woman chortled, giving an evil laugh.
Outwardly, Lothaire didn't react to her. but inside he felt only relief. Finally! he would be free again.