Just your work

The first thing Diana felt was cold.

Then came fear.

Before she could open her eyes, water was running down her neck and clothes, but what caught her attention the most were her bare feet on the smooth floor.

"Shall we wake up Cinderella?!" a soft, singing voice called her. "Or should it be the other one... Um, let's wake up, Snow White!"

Diana opened her eyes, but the person—the woman—who had spilled that water on her was far away. Crouched in a corner, over a toolbox.

"I remember, it was Sleeping Beauty, gosh. I've never been good at remembering these things," the loud sound of tools falling to the floor drowned out her murmur, but Diana was awake.

Disoriented, her heart seemed to know more than she did. Since it was shaking. It vibrated restlessly as if a ghost had it between its dead fingers.

She didn't dare make a sound. She just tried to remember.

Leaving work. A car came to pick her up, her tired gaze on the driver. He hid his face.

When she got closer to look, she felt a prick in her thigh. A small pen, or syringe, had pricked her.

The driver was holding her.

It wasn't the man she knew, but before she could think beyond that, her consciousness was gone.

The cold, the water, the fear and now this situation. She was tied to a chair, in a strange, empty room, with nothing but a woman and her box.

Diana trembled, her heart knowing what would happen next. He and her mind were close friends, sharing a secret she didn't want to know.

"Who are you?!" The ropes were tight. Enough for her to feel pain when she struggled.

"Oh, awake, Sleeping Beauty?" the stranger laughed, but didn't turn around. In a corner of her mind, she remembered a child crouched over her toys.

A sick feeling was growing in her stomach. She spat out the words before she could think about them.

"You kidnapped me?! Why?!... W-what do you want?!"

When she received no answers, the penny dropped.

The memory of the car accident came back to her.

A fog cleared and she regained her self-control. She straightened her posture and watched the woman stand up, slowly approaching.

"Now, let's get to the facts." She had a large pair of pliers in one hand. Diana tried to move away, the chair shaking. "I know you have a protection spell on you. That means this will hurt a lot less than it should, but..."

She opened and closed the pliers a few times. Diana sighed. Her heart was racing, pounding against her ribs.

More water wet her face, hot this time. A line of boiling tears.

For the first time Diana was sure about what was happening.

The woman took a small bottle from a side bag. One of many.

"This little thing here can heal any wound, so... Take your time. Let's repeat until the protection fails."

The smile on her face. The despair on Diana's face.

They were like the sun and the moon.

But when the woman got close enough, the day turned to night and in silence, Diana spat in her face.

"Fuck you," her hoarse voice seemed to come from her soul. More like the howl of an animal than spoken words.

"That's how I like it," she said with a smile, not bothering to wipe the saliva dripping from the corners of her eyes. "Let's see if your barking and your screams are similar."

In that same instant, Diana lost consciousness.

Like a hammer, her pliers hit the side of her face. As heavy as a block of concrete, but so fast that she only realized what had happened when the pain was too much to even think about.

Everything went dark for her. But the light in the room was still there, pale and bright, as the woman wiped her face with a handkerchief.

"What a sleeping beauty we have here," she laughed as she watched a red stain form, and a line of blood run down the girl's hair.

"I think I overdid it."

Shrugging and mentally reminding herself of the difference in strength between a vampire and a human, she crouched down.

Like a child about to do something bad, her lips seemed to curl, but her expression was cold and empty as she took one of those hands.

To begin with, she thought of something she didn't have.

A ring like that.

Beautiful, shiny and expensive. Representing love, money and vanity that she couldn't imagine.

All it took was one negative thought about the person and a monster would come to her. He smiled and watched through her eyes.

She took those fingers. She felt their softness and finally chose the smallest one.

Just one scare to wake up the princess, and her inner child. When the finger was between the blades of the pliers, for a moment she looked up.

She saw the pale face, the black hair stuck together by the water and the red painting the skin.

Feeling that at any second she would close the pliers. She also felt that at any second she could stop.

Put away her tools, leave and not come back.

A part of her wanted that.

But either way someone would have to do the job.

And this time it would be her.

'Clack!'

It was the only sound she thought and heard. The sound of the two iron blades closing as if there was nothing between them.

Curious, she looked down. The flesh was so fragile. The finger was already on the floor. So the next step was...

'Oh...', when the room was filled with screams, the part of her that wanted to stay thought:

'That's a good sound.'