Against The Flow
I risked a peek, pulling back the heavy, velvet curtain. A lance of moonlight struck the flagstone floor. My glance told me everything. They were out there, the burning torches, the clashing, scraping sound of metal on metal as pitchforks and scythes were brandished. It wouldn’t be long now before the rampaging riot outside broke forth and overwhelmed the castle. I let the curtain fall back into place and sighed deeply. Our fate was sealed, of this I was certain, and all because we were different from them.
I crossed the dim, candlelit chamber to the ancient four-poster bed, sitting as gently as I could so as not to wake Claudia. She slept soundly, the pearly-white skin of her bosom rising and falling with each relaxed breath. I stared at her, longing for just one more hour. I reached out a hand and rested it against her cold, bare shoulder. She moaned softly and opened an eye. My gaze woke her.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, sadly. “They found us.”
She sat up, fear furrowing her face. “The vampires are coming?”