Samuel took steady steps, went up the stairs, and dumped me unceremoniously in front of my door. "Go take a shower, lock the door and stay inside," he ordered. "We still don't know who did this to you."

He could take his commanding ass and go to Hell with it.

"What about some food?" I asked. His color darkened what I assumed to be light grey. He was not raging mad, but he was irritated. He thought I was a petulance. Wait, what? I was beginning to recognize and understand colors. An expert on color language, so to speak. That was cool.

"I will send some food," he said. The grey clouds were still there so his voice as calm and still as a waveless sea didn't fool me. This was amazing, I was beginning to like this talent. And, I owed it to his blood, I had to admit.

The door slammed behind me, as the only indicator of his true emotions.

I breathed. In. Out. In. Out. I counted my breaths. When I had reached a hundred, I moved. I needed to think.

Was he telling the truth? If it hadn't been him who drained me, then who had? I realized I preferred it to be him. It helped me sustain my anger. I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to be right about him. Otherwise, I was doomed. Just his scent was an aphrodisiac that could be my end. And, what if I became addicted to his blood? God, have mercy on me, the thought almost crippled me.

You will thirst for my blood. His words rushed to me as in a race, unhindered. I swallowed. Hmm...was I thirsty? Maybe I was. I felt like I was. I surely was, I corrected myself. I could kill him for implementing the power of suggestion in my mind. Whether I was really thirsty or not, I didn't know. But suddenly, it had become all too real. The more I thought about it, the more I believed I was. I wanted to drink. Water, I repeated to myself. I wanted to drink just water. I would make sure I was just thirsting for water. I would ignore his warnings not to drink it. I tried to find a jug of water in the room, but I couldn't. One would assume the vampires would think of putting the basic necessities in the guest rooms.

I walked to the bathroom, realizing that I'd dropped my fake cane in the massacre room. Or should I have said the mating room? The room where I'd bled like a virginal bride. That cane had brought nothing but misery. Good riddance!

I turned on the faucet. I pulled my head under the streaming water and just stayed like that. The water was lukewarm. It didn't help ease the millions of thoughts swarming in my head. I cupped my hands and drank a little, just to see whether it was helping. I felt better. That brought a smile to my face. It was working.

I started taking off my clothes. I stank. Badly. Of him. My blood. His blood. Our blood seemed to have mated long before we did. Blending into a perfect union of colors on my pale skin. Yet, all I could focus on was his blood. I shivered with distaste of myself. I would wash it off before I started smelling my own self like an obsessed creature. I couldn't be sure that I wouldn't. Not anymore.

I stepped into the tub. I let the water clean me, washing the stickiness of the blood. I lathered my body with the soap, my hands rubbed it on my skin, spreading it on my stomach, my neck where I'd been assaulted, my arms which had held onto him for life...... my nose, the spy I'd caught in my midst but couldn't punish...... my mouth which had drunk the life-saving nectar, and by some small chance wanted more..... my hair which he'd grabbed when he'd given me a lesson in passion...I let the water run over me, rinsed all that the soap visited on my body like a caressing whisper, just like the kisses he'd rained on my face. You'll starve for my body Damn it! Had it already started? I repeated the process harshly, mercilessly, seeking awareness in the pain until my skin was raw, sensitive to the touch, until I was sure I had no trace left of the incident, of him.

By the time I was out, I was so thirsty that I thought I was losing my mind. The tap water had been warm. Not good enough to kill my thirst. That was it! I took out some clean clothes, compliments of my host, not really caring what I put on me. It could be the tablecloth for all I cared. I needed to get out of this room. Needed fresh cold water. No, correction, I needed iced water. Anything cold that would get rid of the parched throat. But, not blood, I amended it. I didn't want iced blood or some blood frappucino! Definitely not.

The improvement in my eyesight had made wonders to my walking speed. Even without the cane, I found myself rushing to the door. I was getting familiar with the colors that surrounded everything, living and non-living, like a crown of flowers. The colors of the objects in the room were, too, adapting like a chameleon to their inhabitants, users. But, there were some objects which were so grounded to their core that they held an ancient wisdom that could not be corrupted by anything. Water was one of them. It was always a bright white light, a heroine resisting the temptation of dark churning emotions. My anger and panic in the tub had not tainted its brightness. It was like a whitewash over a pencil drawing dominating over the graphite, like a bright star in a dark universe.

I was still a novice in learning the ABC's of colors,but surely I was getting there. The colors outlining the door were cloudy, half light, half dark spinning around the room in a perfect confusion. Just like my emotions. Once I zoomed to its shape and color, it was easy to take hurried steps outside. Would Sam send some water with the food? I didn't know but I couldn't wait. The thirst was like a living breathing monster. And, it was impatient.

My hair still wet, dripping. My wet shirt clung to me, the slight cold breeze in the hall felt good. I walked in a rush. The hall seemed empty. No footsteps, no sound of breathing, no chatter. I came across another door. Perhaps there was some water there. I knocked on the door. No sound. I didn't want to be trespassing. But, what gave me the warning was that the door had a bland color. The color of no emotions. This place was unused. There would be no treasures to be found here. I walked to the adjacent one. It was a light subdued color, a mixture of white and red. Warmth seeped into my skin. Pink? Whoever was staying in here had left its mark. Was it happiness. Perhaps new found love?

"Hello?" I knocked on the door harder. No answer. I pushed it open. The color took my breath away. In each breath, I tasted the sweetness of shared dreams, kisses, hearts beating to one another's rhythm. I didn't want to breathe it in, but I did like a starved animal. The room drew me in enveloping me like the heat of sunlight. I wanted it. I wanted to be part of it.

It disturbed me. The moment I found a fridge I was getting my water and getting out. The room held many items, the couple was a messy one. The many objects rushed to me like a tornado, on the floor, on the bed, on the sofa. Things were sprawled all over the place, yet there was a secret order in the chaos, each object was threaded together, knitted into a yarn ball of love.

I didn't care about the water anymore. I had to get out. I was suffocating. I opened the door. I wanted to go back to my room. Some more warm water would help. I was sure of it. The hall was no longer empty. Vampires. Plural. Though I was not good at gauging the distance, they seemed to be hovering around my room. They were all infused with darkness. Pitch black darkness. Blackness was fine when it was all I ever had, but this darkness in a world of colors felt wrong. It felt evil. Menacing. I could feel it. If it wasn't for the multitude of colors of the hallway, which was fast darkening with their presence, I would believe I'd gone completely blind again.

I threw myself back in the room. Locked it. I'd take pink over black anytime. I was scared. Didn't know why. But, I was. Would they find me here? I'd left watermarks all over the floor, how could they not? I was easy bait. Seconds crawled, my heart stopped. I was waiting for the darkness to find and eat me up. I heard footsteps. They were coming. A silent scream blocked my throat. I leaned against the door, hoping I could prevent them from entering.

Somebody turned the knob. I bit my lips. "Diana?" he asked.

It was Samuel.

I kept my silence. Had he been one of the dark ones? I didn't know. But, I'd seen him surrounded by dark red, light red, grey. Never by black. He was a man of colors. He was not dark. There, I had my answer.

I unlocked the door.

I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him. He didn't seem bothered by it. He was getting colors again, a fiery red swirled around him like a restless child.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What are you doing in this room?"

"I saw vampires."

"So?" A mix of colors clung to him like splashes on a canvas. Confusion. "They were bringing some food and checking on you."

"Is she alright?" I recognized the voice. Alessandro. He dipped his head. The vampire who had stolen my cane.

The vampire who was now completely black. 

As always, thanks for reading. I will try to update Blinded by the Dark tomorrow.

Alena