Shadow Blooded-Once Bitten

Chapter two

Marcella ran through the woods crying. The man was a f*****g jerk. She would never understand his mood swings. She ran through the wall of shadows mindlessly as she desperately tried to get her emotions under control before she had to face her family. The shadows wiped at her tears, making her smile sadly at their kind gesture. Thank you," she whispered meekly to them.

Looking around at her surroundings, she carefully made her way back to the castle. When she finally got back to the castle, Marcella realized it must have been later than she had originally thought. The guards patrolling the grounds had doubled and her brother and father were standing in the courtyard speaking with a group of gentlemen who were all dressed in suits. Careful not to make too much noise or any noticeable out-of-place movements, Marcella made her way to the opposite side of the towering black stone edifice. On the side of the wall grew thick vining plants that had obviously been neglected.

After pulling on a few of them to find a sturdy vine, Marcella climbed up to the second story where she could perch on the edge of a windowsill. The window opened up to a dark, dusty room that obviously hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. After carefully maneuvering the old stubborn window open, Marcella slid into the small abandoned room that she had found by accident one day. She had been bored and wandering around aimlessly on one of the days when she was supposed to get gone and be invisible, as her father would put it.

She walked over to the door, which was actually a frame set in the wall covered from the outside by heavy black bricks layered over wood boarding. Marcella pushed against the wooden boards with all her might. Until her feet started to slide backward and her check was shoved against the door. Gradually, the heavy door moved inch by inch until it was open just enough for her to squeeze through if she held her breath and sucked in her already slim stomach. Once she was out, Marcella turned to face what was now a brick wall with a perfectly placed candlestick sticking out of it.

Marcella winced when the rough stones scraped against her palms as she shoved the ridiculously heavy wall back into its proper place. By the time she was done, she was huffing and puffing trying to get her breath back. She had made it no more than a couple of steps when her older sister came around the corner that led to this hall. Marci, she screamed at me. Where the hell have you been? Everyone is looking for you.

Do you know how pissed off father is? You’re lucky I’m the one who found you, otherwise, you’d have been dead meat. Still might be but there’s no time for that now. We must get you ready. Look at yourself. What in the goddess’s name happened to you? Your dress has been ripped and torn to tatters. Your hair is a complete mess, she said as she pulled a leaf out of my hair with a look of disgust on her face. Your face is a straight mess, she said, inspecting me from head to toe.

Have you been crying, she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. She sighed heavily and grabbed me by my upper arm. Come on let’s go Marci, there's a lot we got to get done in the small amount of time we have left, she stated. She walked me back down the corridor in which she had come from down to a set of stairs that led up and down the spiral tower of the castle that they now stood in.

Marcella followed her older sister Octavia up the stairs silently as she let her mind wander. Tavi was tall and slender with pale white skin and dark brown, almost black eyes. She had long thick black hair that was braided and piled neatly atop her head. Pined in place was her crown held in the perfect place at all times. She oozed princess. From her posture to the way she commanded the room.

Today she wore a traditional Roman dress. It was a deep black gown with a red cross top that draped over one shoulder, leaving a long flowing train behind her. She had on a beautiful silver braided belt that wrapped around her waist hugging what little curves she did have to give off a feminine but not overly s****l appeal. The dress flowed down to just above the floor with two splits that showed off her porcelain skin when she walked. The perfect vampire princess.

Marcella was sure she would never be able to pull off such a look. A small part of her wished she could be like Tavi, then her father wouldn’t hate her. A larger part of her knew she never could, she just wasn’t wired that way. To be seen, not heard. To be a dotting wife docile to her husband every demand. To never show emotion, always be indifferent.

It looked exhausting to Marcella. After walking up a couple of flights of stairs, they turned down the hall to the master’s hall. Where her family lived. They walked about halfway down the hallway and stopped at a big thick arched wood doorway. They walked into her sister’s room. There was a large gold canopied bed.

Black and white marbled floors. Large arched windows that look out on the dark forest and a large bathroom with a walk-in closet. The bathroom had a large domed stained-glass ceiling. In the middle of the floor sat a large clawfoot tub. Off to the side was a large box shower and a vanity with a double sink.

Get in the shower Marci and I’ll go and grab everything we need to get you ready. Her sister said rather impatiently before walking away. Marcella took off her now-destroyed dress before getting in the big walk-in shower. When Marcella got out of the shower, she found a thick red robe to put on. She had just finished putting on her robe when her sister and three maids came in following after her.

Their hands were full of supplies they needed to torture her with. Her sister glanced at her briefly before hanging up a bright red dress. It had long flowing sleeves that looped behind the back of the dress. The fabric had the traditional cross pattern for the top of a Roman-styled dress. The skirt, however, was shorter in the front than in the back.

Her sister motioned for her to sit in a chair in front of her vanity. Marcella eyed the maid suspiciously as she begrudgingly walked over to the seat in front of the huge wall-length mirror that sat behind a large shelf that looked more like a counter than a desk. After what felt like an eternity of poking, prodding, pulling, yanking, and tucking at various parts of her face, hair, and hands, her sister and the maids were finally finished with their assault on her. Marcella slipped into the blood-red dress and looked in the mirror. Inspecting as her sister inspected her handy work.

Her hair was piled on her head. She wore a silver crown made of leaves that wrapped around the back of her head and came to a point in the middle of her forehead where a bright red oval ruby sat. Her hair had been braided into small sections and tastefully piled atop her head except for a few well-placed strands of curled hair that framed her face. The dress she wore hit her at knee length in the front and cascaded down to the floor behind her. Her eyes were covered in a matching red eye shadow framed by a smokey black. Her lips were also a bright red that stood out painfully against her pale complexion.

Marcella felt like a circus clown, she mused as she looked at herself. She wore a pair of black lace-up sandals with a small heel that made that, in her sister’s words, brought the whole look together. She reached up to play with her necklace mindlessly as she fidgeted uncomfortably. Her sister had wanted her to take it off, but Marcella refused stubbornly. Her sister said the gold was goady and didn’t go with her look, but she didn’t care. She was going to keep it on no matter what anyone said. Her sister had tried to remove it and Marcella had fought them so hard that it took them an hour to re-do the work they had already put into her hair and makeup.

Just then, a portal made from shadows opened up, indicating it was time to go. Marcelle stared through the billowing black smokey mass until she could see a clear image on the other side. There was the chapel where the altar to the goddess stood. Marcella stepped through to the chapel where she could now see the men seated on either side of a large stone pedestal. Behind the pedestal was a row of about ten men and women, all of whom were chained to the ground where they knelt. Sitting up on a small platform above them was her father and her brother. Marcella gulped as she was guided forward by her sister. She had the sinking feeling of despair in her stomach that usually meant something really bad was about to happen.