Everyone Dies in the End #65

Katarina

“Ah, so the bitch is back.” Vader laughed, but Katarina didn’t. Unlike the previous visit, she was not standing defiantly, but rather strapped to a wheel chair. The straps had not been built that could hold her, at least not when she was fed, but now? Well Dan had explained that the straps were there to prevent her from falling out of the chair.

“I take it you aren’t an Elton John fan?”

Katarina ignored the question. There was no point in wasting the energy, something of which she had very little left. Vampires might be damn near immortal, but they were not without needs. And the primary need was blood. The lack of it would not kill her, but it would reduce her to a catatonic state her kind called Cel Somn, or The Sleep, a state from which they could only be revived with fresh blood.  

“What do you want?” she asked. Again he lounged in the chair behind his desk, the dark witch stood nearby, eyes gleaming, a shadow of a smile toying with the corners of her full lips. I wish I thought everything was so damn amusing, thought Katarina.

Vader tapped his chin with a finger, feigning thoughtfulness. “Let me see, what do I want?” His face brightened into a smile and he held the previously tapping finger aloft. “Ah, I remember. I want sex, money, power.” He pursed his lips, seeming to think. “Seems like I ought to add drugs in there doesn’t it.” He looked inquiringly at Katarina. She managed a shrug.

“But you know,” Vader continued, “I really don’t do drugs, don’t drink either. In fact, I don’t have any vices. Nothing that someone could use against me.” He laughed.

“Nothing like this need you have for blood.”

Katarina kept her silence.

“Doesn’t really matter how bad ass you are, does it?” Vader continued. “I keep you away from blood and you’re as weak as Superman in a Kryptonite coffin.”

Vader nodded at Dan, who stood behind her, and the heavyset man left through a door set in the wall to her left.

Vader walked from behind his desk, moving until he stood in front of her. She locked him with enraged eyes. That was what she wanted to do, but her body wasn’t cooperating. Her eyelids drooped, and her irises wouldn’t focus.

“So sleepy,” Vader chuckled and he stroked her chin.

Katarina jerked her face away from his hand and he slapped her. Hard.

The blow flashed stars in front of her eyes. She batted her eyes, attempting to stem the hot, involuntary tears.

The hand returned to her chin. A caress and then he cupped the chin in his hand, tilting her head back, forcing her eyes to his.

If only I had the energy, she thought. I’d grab this bastard and pull his heart out his ass. But she didn’t. She was too far-gone, she needed blood too badly. As if queued by her thought, Dan reentered the room, in his hand a clear plastic milk carton full of blood. He sat the blood on the desk, to the left of Vader, in full view of Katarina. She moaned, a low throaty sound, more growl than sigh. Vader held her chin.

“You’d like some of that, wouldn’t you?”

She didn’t look at Vader or Mbande. Her eyes remained fixed on the blood. “What do you want me to do?” she whispered.

            His hand left her chin and slid down her neck. “Whatever I tell you to,” he answered.