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She could feel tears start to well up in her eyes again. “I’m pathetic,” she said, putting her hands to her face. She began to laugh to herself – not quite the manic cackling that the vampire was just doing, but slightly more subdued, almost defeated laugh. Mari could feel herself start to get worn down a little more. “I need to get out of here. Two more bites. Just two more.” Somehow, she wasn’t sure she would make it to two more bites. Once again kicking herself for extending that damned contract, she picked herself off the ground and walked back to the table.

Mari reached for the small vial of blood and examined it closely. “Is this what I really want?” The image of the vampire’s sharp fangs pierced into her mind. She would have to become a killer. A predator. More and more she was beginning to see that is what vampires really were. “Maybe that’s why Asami looks at me like that now. Is this really what I want to do?” She was growing increasingly unsure of that. There was nothing that she could do now except drink the blood. The warm sensation flooded through her almost immediately. Once again, she felt a slave to the vampire’s whims. Just drinking their blood was enough of a taboo for her to be intrigued. She set the vial back on the table beside her now empty plate and walked out the room.

It was protocol for bloodslaves to go back to their cell after eating after a ‘donation.’ Guards usually didn’t accompany bloodslaves back; they went on their own. After all, where else could they go? Escape was out of the question. There were always guards in the nearby vicinity of the exit of Harvest. No windows to climb out of. And worst of all, you were operating in near darkness. Vampires seem to be able to see with next to no light, and slaves would be an even easier target to hunt down if they were trying to go against a vampire in the dark – if that was even possible. All this equalled allowing slaves to wonder a little before going to their cells before the next task was given to them.

Mari glanced at the inside of the rows of cells, something that she tried to avoid doing. It was depressing once again. Several of the girls were at the corner of the room, barely visible as each cell only had one torch. Worse, half of the torches were not even lit. The girls that she could see were in even worse shape than the cold, dank cell. Tattered clothes and broken expressions were the first things that jumped out at her. One girl she saw had a kimono that was falling apart, the sleeves were half ripped off and her kimono was shredded at the bottom. Chances were she had not been chosen to donate blood in quite some time, months more than likely. Slaves are only granted new clothes when their old ones have completely fallen apart and they are almost naked, a process that would take months, or they donated blood. What the bloodslaves wore to get drained is what they kept until they were called upon again. The only thing that would not be kept would be the shoes. More than likely a cost saving measure. Usually the old kimono is pieced back together. It’s made easier because it is rare that the kimonos are anything but simple plain kimonos that are one color with very few if any designs. Simple and efficient, just like the vampires.

What stood out the most however, was the look of lost hope. It crushed her. She wanted to go and give the girls a hug, to let them know that it would be all right, but she never did. Despite the fact that the thought crept into her head almost every time she passed by, she could never bring herself to act upon it. It was like a barrier that kept her in place. That kept her walking to that insufferable cell that has been her home for who knows how long. Probably the thought that she was once like them. Devoid of hope. A lonely girl just looking for her next fix. Only since she’s gotten closer to one thousand and the thoughts shifted to gaining a new life did she start getting hope back. Now, she could feel herself start to feel like these girls do. It troubled her to say the least.

She had a lot to think about. Most vampires died within the first few years. Why? Then she thought back to those razor sharp teeth that plagued her mind. How could anything kill that?! She wasn’t sure what was more frightening: the thought of getting her throat ripped out by those fangs or being the one doing the ripping. She tried to shake off the thought as she opened her cell door and walked in. Still, the thoughts came back.

“Five years,” she mumbled. “Or less.” She plopped down on her makeshift bed. “I worked all this time, and I may only enjoy it for five years?” Mari just laid there in disbelief. She had no concrete plans for what to do once she became a Master. She just was going to go with what happens. Now, it seemed to be more paramount to make up her mind. “Maybe living here after I become one is the best option.” She thought about the girls who did stay after becoming a Master. “No, I don’t want that. What do I want though?” Mari sat up again. “I need to take my mind off of this.

She began rolling up her sleeves to her shoulders; she then rolled the lower part of the kimono until it was just above her knees. Time to do the only thing that she really could do here. There were no patterns to count this time on her snow-white kimono. It was about as plain as could be. So it was down to exercise. It was one of the few things she could do to stay sane in castle Harvest. She got down into push-up position. She had to thank Asami for getting her back into exercising. Part of what she did to take Mari’s mind off of ‘the urge’ was to exercise together. It worked surprisingly well for her. It gave her something new to do rather than sit and angst and wait. Still, it worked mainly because it was something her father would want her to do.

“God, do I miss Father.”