Blood Collection

At the rogues laboratory, the doctor gave Ava a dose of anesthetics and she slipped into peaceful sleep, her body relaxing from the shock it had before she fainted. Assisted by two wolves, part of the rogues, they set Ava in place by strapping her to the bed with ropes. Her hands and legs were swiftly tied as she laid on her back, unconscious. The doctor inserted canola into her vein and connected it to an empty bag, where her blood slowly drained into. A pair of rogues stayed on either side of the bed, guarding Ava as she gave them the precious liquid their leader needed, the very life in her.

‘This pant is almost full.’ The doctor said as he monitored the collection process.

‘Her blood is quite clean.’ One of the rogues observed.

‘It’s making me hungry.’ Another rogue snarled as he coveted the blood.

‘You’d better control yourself!’ His colleague growled at her.

‘This is pure blood, meant for the sacrifice. After all she is a virgin, she has not been contaminated by many donors.’ They laughed at his joke.

‘But what exactly do we need her blood for?’ The first rogue asked his colleague.

‘I also don’t know. But it must have to do with the great mission our lord said. That was why I left my pack and joined the Vicious Avengers. I want to rule the world with lord Marcus.’

Seeing that the plastic container was full, the doctor closed the canola and removed it. He put another container there but did not open the canola yet.

‘We have a pant of her blood.’ He announced to the waiting wolves. They all rejoiced.

‘More! Get more blood.’ One of the rogues sitting on the ground said.

‘Patience, we will drain every drop of her blood.’ Tim said as he strolled in from lord Marcus. He turned to the doctor, who showed him the pant of blood already collected.

‘Take it to my lord.’ The doctor put the pant of blood on a surgical tray and followed Tim out of the laboratory.

‘If all her blood is drained, she would die…’ The rogue on the right side of Ava said, staring at her. ‘She is so beautiful.’ He observed.

His colleague standing on the other side smacked him on the shoulder.

‘Get a hold of yourself. It’s not as if you can have her. She will die as a virgin.’

‘Such a waste.’ The other person replied, shaking his head in pity as he moved away to join the others, who were sitting on the ground.

Marcus was in conversation with a person in hoods when Tim and the doctor enter the sitting room of the old house, where Marcus majestically sat as if he was in his throne room. The sitting room, once a warm and inviting space, now lay shrouded in a thick layer of dust and neglect. Cobwebs clung to the faded grandeur of the chandelier, its crystals dull and gray. The walls, adorned with peeling wallpaper, seemed to whisper tales of forgotten laughter and tears. A once-plush sofa, now worn and frayed, slumped against the wall, its upholstery torn and faded. The fireplace, cold and dark, stood as a testament to winters past, its grate clogged with the remnants of long-dead fires. A few scattered armchairs, their upholstery worn and faded, stood like sentinels, guarding secrets and memories. The air was heavy with the scent of decay and rot, and the windows, grimy with grime, filtered the sunlight, casting eerie shadows on the walls. In the center of the room, a beautiful rosewood piano stood silent, its keys yellowed with age, its music silenced by the passing of time.

‘My Lord, we have the first pant of blood.’ Tim said as he pushed the doctor forward. The doctor stretched his two hands holding the tray of blood forward as he presented it to Marcus.

Marcus sniffed as he smelled the blood.

‘It smells so nice, so pure and nutritious.’ The sight of blood provoked his blood lust as he groaned, in restraint.

The hooded figure coughed and Marcus who was already moving the blood towards his mouth came to his senses and handed it over to them. The figure lifted the veil, revealing a sorceress, a female in her forties.

The sorceress stood tall, her slender figure draped in a long, dark cloak with intricate lace trim, its hood casting a shadow over her face. Her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her piercing emerald eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intensity. A delicate silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon hung from her neck. Her slender fingers, adorned with rings bearing cryptic symbols, grasped a worn leather –bound tome, its page whispering ancient secrets. An aura of mystique and foreboding surrounded her, as if the very fabric of reality bent to her will.

‘We will commence the process of making the portion. Ensure you get more blood.’

Marcus turned to Tim and the doctor. ‘You heard her, go get all her blood.’

Tim turned to the doctor, expecting him to lead the way out but the human doctor hesitated.

‘Sir, when will I leave this place? I have patients to attend to…’

‘You will leave when your work is done.’ Marcus interrupted him. ‘Don’t forget that your daughter is in my custody. Don’t tempt me to use her!’

Shaking from head to toe, the doctor hurried out of the old sitting room. Before he got to the door, Marcus called out to him.

‘Your work would be done when we have enough blood for the sacrifice.’ The doctor stumbled at the door but quickly composed himself. He nodded in agreement and marched out with Tim following.

They got to the make shift laboratory, where Ava laid, almost lifeless.

The doctor moved to her side and turned on the canola, to resume collection of Ava’s blood. The two rogues that guarded her previously resumed their position.

‘She’s waking up.’ One rogue said as he pointed at Ava, whose fingers suddenly folded in a fist.

‘That shouldn’t be,’ said the doctor, his face puzzled. ‘She is not supposed to wake up for the next five hours.’

Ava sat up suddenly, eyes still closed, her ropes became as flax that has cut fire, sliding off her arms and legs.

‘Impossible!’ The doctor screamed.