Valynia awoke in the stench of urine, a copper tinged fragrance of blood and the undoubtedly reek of stale ale. Her vision a blur, all she could see was the fuzzed outline of a cobbled ground and the ever looming structures of perfectly lined Tudor style buildings. The stink of ale and blood became understandable as her sight stabilized; she was in a narrow alleyway behind what she figured to be an old pub from the gathering of grimy smashed and worn labeled glass bottles . Inside, the shouts, laughter and slurred singing of the drunkards within bellowed inside her head, as if there were no wall between them. It was ear shatteringly loud.
Where am I? Knees scraped the damp ground as she knelt from her previously uncomfortably heaped position. They were badly grazed, as were her hands, and an untidy cut was seeping thin, dark streams of blood above her brow. It wasn't painful until she had sat herself up to try and establish where she was. Then it was agony; aches catching up with her for the time she was unconscious. It was well into the night as far as she could tell, wincing with a stare up to the moonless night sky. The only light that flooded over her was that of the pub's small windows high above her and a street lamp at the end of the alley that was too far for any useful illumination. Even that was not enough to see everything clearly. With no one about and though she wished to scream, she felt as if she could only break into tears from fear of who would appear. So she reluctantly lay herself down in the damp of the waste and closed her eyes with hunger convulsions of her stomach that caused her to coil into herself.
"Oh, look! A little flower... Can we keep her? She has a deliciously tainted aroma..."
"I think that's just piss you're smelling, Love."
The voices were thick with the cockney accent, the first to speak, noted a woman, more prominent than the more well spoken man who replied so coyly. Peering over to them with her ear to the cobbles, they appeared to be closing the distance between themselves and Valynia. On closer inspection they were quite a beautiful duo with such lovely garments. The woman was wearing a magnificent, flowing gown of white lace and gold whereas the man wore a suit of brindle tones. She pulled her sore knees up to her chest with blooded hands. Only now she had noted the numbing cold had kept her from realizing her form was bare and exposed to the elements... To the approaching couple. Then something caused her to unfurl in haste. A hand had its thin fingers suddenly grasped about her face, pulling her to her knees once more. It was so oddly sudden.
"She's a pretty little thing, I'll give her that. Do you really want her?" The man turned Valynia's head to the side with a simple tweak of the wrist. He seemed shallowly emotionless as he glared back to the woman now at his side.
"Is she prettier than me?" She replied with a girlishly sheepish twist of her body, "Because I'll have to cut her face off if she is..."
Valynia's eyes grew wide as she caught a gasp in her throat. It was apparent that the man found amusement in his companion's words, a faint chuckle escaping him. With a devilish grin hidden by the shadows, he glared back down to the girl with his piercing shamrock shaded eyes, hooded by an oddly broad brow. For a few seconds of switching his attention between the two, he forced her to stand. Valynia washed over with shame and embarrassment from her nudeness, closed her eyes that were now wet with silent tears as if it would all go away. She didn't make a sound despite the immense burning sensation that came from her very core. He shook his head with his tongue lashing over his gums.
"No. She's pretty, but not as pretty as you. Give her your shawl. She's stiff from the cold."
Hearing the words, though perhaps offensive, came as a relief to Valynia. He released her face as the woman at his side was immediately obedient in hearing the near commanding statement and didn't waste time in removing her large silk shawl to loosely wrap it about her new play thing's shoulders. Why were they suddenly being so nice? It was torture in feeling safe yet on edge. And she felt that they both thrived on it.
"Come on, Dalia. If you want to keep her, we have to wash her and tend to those nasty little nicks."
"Of course, Wesley. And feed her. Don't forget that we have to feed her."
Dalia and Wesley? Names were important. As the two lustfully caved into each other's arms, a passionately aggressive frenzy of kisses against one another's lips, Valynia trembled on the spot. She saw blood smothered their mouths and cheeks as the light shone down on them, giving her a first view of their faces. Something wasn't right. They had distorted features like demonic beings. Then it hit her, of course it had to hit her; vampires. In an instant her body's structure crumbled. She fell heavy towards the floor without any sound of anguish. Wesley caught her in time and cradled her carefully. After that her memory was a blur of dim lights and the sound of harrowed breathes.
That night changed her life forever...