Crimson Groves Read Online Free PDF Page B

was thicker, velvety, warm, and tangy. But oh it felt so good in my parched mouth, and it soothed my dry throat like a rainstorm in the desert. It was quenching my thirst and making me forget where I was. The more I drank the better I felt, so I gulped harder, feverishly swallowing it down.
    Then I felt pressure on my face, pressing down around my lips. It was smooth and hard like marble but there was a softness to it that reminded me of silk. It was the source of this refreshing drink so I grabbed it with my hands, holding it tightly against my mouth, and sucked at it fiercely, desperately. I was feeling better and better the more I ingested. I clenched it more firmly, securing the continued rhythm of the healing elixir, lapping it down in gulps. I tightly squeezed my eyes as if they, too, could help. Prickly tingles danced on my skin like goose bumps, but more intense. Happy thoughts of survival rose up in my mind. I was going to be okay. Everything was okay.
    With no warning, the source of the quenching fluid was gone—as if ripped away from me. I wanted it back, needed it back. I frantically struggled to find it. Empty air teased my hands as they waved around, aimlessly searching for whatever had just been providing the delicious drink. I panicked, desperation crowding in. The tingles increased to a level I could barely handle, scraping and cutting deep beneath my skin. I jerked sideways, twisted back and forth. Nothing. I tried forcing my eyelids to open but they were weighed down like dumbbells tied onto them.
    Breathe, just breathe. Take deep breaths, get a grip, and don’t panic. I took a deep breath, inhaling as much air as I could. But only a small amount streamed inside, as if it was blocked by congestion. What the hell? I tried again. Same result. I sucked urgently. Still nothing. Okay, don’t freak out. You’re going to be okay. Just relax. Think positive. I thought about a warm summer day on the beach in the Caribbean, the hot blazing sun dancing atop bright blue and turquoise waters, a beverage with a little yellow umbrella garnishing some kind of frozen drink in my hand. The sharp pains fizzled away. My body eased up, relaxed. Small puffs of air flowed in and out of my mouth, barely anything, but at least it was something. If I’m not getting enough air, how am I conscious?
    That was when I heard a deep, soft voice. Was it speaking to me? “Do not try to get up...let my blood consume you…only a few more minutes.”
    I couldn’t register those words. I couldn’t think about them—it was too much at once. I needed to open my eyes. I needed to see what was going on. I pushed and strained, got my eyes open. Vision was a little blurry. Couldn’t see anything. Everything was fuzzy like light in a thick fog. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut, then slowly opened them again. That was better. I could see a little clearer. The light was less hazy than before. My eyelids fluttered up and down a few more times. It was working. Closing them tightly one more time, then opening them slowly, the silhouette of a person standing over me materialized.
    I remembered the words, recognized the voice. Blood? I drank blood? Panic seized me. I gasped. Tried to sit up, couldn’t get up yet. My body felt heavy and warped like it was filled with lead balloons. Time plummeted around me. Memories punched me in the face, stinging, burning, surreal. I met a guy at work. Bronx. That’s right, Bronx was his name. He walked me home but never took me there. He brought me somewhere else. A house. He kissed me. No, I kissed him. He was gentle at first, but then so aggressive, so vicious. He bit me. He sucked my blood. He killed me, didn’t he? I blinked a few more times. My vision was finally crystal clear. Bronx was standing above me, smiling, and I was still in the room he’d brought me to.
    My face was wet and sticky all around my mouth. I drank something! What was it? I wiped my lips, looked down at my hand. There was blood