Chapter 4
Willow, dressed in a gorgeous evening gown, walked up to me holding a glass of her custom blend of red wine.
"Darling, I made this just for you. It's good for you," she said.
Her gentle gaze could drown a person.
I took the glass, the dark red wine swirled in the glass.
I tilted my head back, pretending to drink it all, but let it run down my chin and into my shirt instead.
Not even ten seconds after I put the glass down, I clutched my forehead, leaned to the side, and collapsed limply onto the sofa.
I closed my eyes, slowed my breathing, and stayed barely aware.
In an instant, the whole atmosphere in the room shifted.
The smooth jazz abruptly stopped, replaced by a blaring, dramatic classical symphony.
The phony laughter vanished, giving way to the sound of heavy breathing and glassware clinking together.
I cracked my eyes open just a sliver.
The neighbors shed their refined facades, each pulling out marked crystal glasses from their pockets.
Willow headed to the sideboard and took out a vial of dark red liquid from an insulated box.
It was the blood she'd drawn from me last week.
She poured it slowly into a decanter, and the rich, metallic scent of blood instantly filled the air.
Arthur took a greedy breath, his face showing pure bliss.
"Ten years of raising him, and this immortal blood still tastes so irresistible. Its purity blows the company's factory-made stuff out of the water," he said.
"Yeah, all thanks to Willow's careful guidance."
Another neighbor echoed, his eyes locked on the decanter.
They started openly discussing, right in front of me, without a shred of restraint.
"Look at him, so weak. Doubt he'll survive the year," one of them remarked.
"His heart's mine. I'll pay 15 million dollars," another claimed.
"I want his liver. 26 million dollars!" a third chimed in.
Willow stood off to the side, smiling as she pulled out a payment terminal and expertly processed one hefty digital payment after another.
"No need to get impatient, everyone. Highest bidder gets what they want," she said with a calm smile.
I lay on the sofa, listening as they divvied up my organs like I was just a piece of meat on the auction block, my nails digging into the leather cushions.
The overwhelming humiliation and fury was enough to drive me insane.
"We're running out of tonight's supply," Arthur said, licking his lips as he turned to face me.
"He's already knocked out. Why not just draw some fresh blood right here?"
He grabbed a syringe as thick as a thumb from the medical kit and strode toward me, a cold, mocking grin on his face.
The needle flashed with a chilling gleam under the light.
I tensed every muscle, ready to spring up the instant the needle pierced my skin and snap his neck.
Just as Arthur's hand was about to grab my arm, a loud snap echoed.
The whole hall was plunged into a dead, suffocating darkness.
A wave of startled cries erupted from the crowd.
"What's going on? Where's security?" Willow's sharp voice rang out.
In the pitch-black darkness, I felt a swift movement cut through the air.
Cold hands suddenly clamped over my mouth from behind.
"Don't make a sound. If you want to live, come with me."
It was Goodwin.
He whispered right next to my ear, his tone sharp and urgent, there was no room for argument.
I stopped resisting and let Goodwin lead me, sliding quietly into the hidden ventilation duct behind the sofa.
Overhead, Arthur's furious roar mixed with the crash of tables and chairs hitting the floor.
The real hunt was just getting started.