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  • A Vampire's Pet Ch. 01

A Vampire's Pet Ch. 01

Carla had finally convinced Eric to sell his daughter, Asami, at a slave auction. It had taken sometime to get him to the point where he had agreed that Asami had cost him too much money and he just... emotionally couldn't handle a 19 year old girl.

She had it all planned out from the moment she had begun planting the seedling of doubt in Eric's head. He loved his daughter, he truly did, but he was blinded by his love for his wife, Carla, Asami's step-mother.

Finally, the day had come when Carla would finally be rid of her stupid step-daughter. She had no reason to hate Asami, she just did. Maybe she was jealous? Maybe she resented her for the simple fact that Asami was the person who would inherit all of Eric's wealth? Asami didn't even know about Carla's true feelings for her. That's why being sold at a slave auction was such a huge surprise for Asami.

Asami's POV

I am running, almost too fast. My legs can't keep up, causing me to stumble. A soft, pain-filled cry escapes my lips. I know they are chasing me. I can hear the dogs barking and howling as they trace my scent. I struggle to my feet and launch myself into the thick forest once more. Tree branches and sticks on the ground stab and scratch my legs, arms, face, feet, and stomach. I am naked, wearing nothing but a snug leather collar that was fitted and locked around my throat several days ago.

It's dark out. How long have I been running? I really can't say. When I escaped, the sun was barely past the "noon" point, I'm guessing it was about one 'o clock. But the sun has long since set, making it hard for me to really see where I am going.

I pant heavily, my lungs burning as the air rushes in and out of my airway passages, flames licking up the inside of my throat. My limbs hurt and feel like jelly all at the same time. It takes all I have to remain on my feet. I glance over my shoulder to see the torches and lanterns of the people I know are gaining on the distance I had worked so hard to put between them and myself. The shadows that are cast from the small sources of light serve only to paint a haunting and terrifying picture, reminding me of what grim future lies ahead if I am to get caught. I whip my head forward again, unwilling to let myself be caught off guard because I am too busy looking behind me rather than ahead. The thought of the dogs, the harsh treatment I will receive if I am caught, the pain, the humiliation, the torture all serve to propel my legs faster as broken branches, stones, and pinecones stab painfully at the bottoms of my aching feet. What I saw behind me worked as great motivation and I found my energy and adrenaline renewed as I forced my legs to move faster still, believing until now that "faster" was impossible. --End of Dream--

I wake up with a gasp, panting heavily, my chest heaving with the force of my uneven breaths. For a few minutes, I struggle to control my labored breathing, until finally, my breathing is once again normal.

Just a dream, Sama. Just a dream. I think to myself as I move from my bed.

I glance at the bunny rabbit alarm my grandparents got me for my last birthday.

"Jeeze. I've still got 2 hours before I need to get up. Oh well. Gives me time to run." I state with a casual shrug of my shoulders as I peek outside from my window.

It's barely almost dawn, but I know I'll be safe as I live in a high-end gated community. Criminals and sex offenders aren't allowed through the gates and everyone goes through a long, painstaking process for security reasons before being cleared to move in.

I throw my hair up into a half-assed, messy ponytail and change into a sports bra, tank top, yoga pants, and sneakers. I grab my iPod from my desk before going down to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water.

Before leaving, I do my warm up stretches, deciding to do more today because it's been about two weeks since I have actually gone running.

I leave the house with my ear buds in, music blasting a full volume, and turn left on our street after checking the mailbox. I move my feet faster, barely jogging now as I have learned that working up to sprinting is the best idea.

I steadily increase my pace until I am sprinting as fast as I can.

The community is 3 miles if you go on the outer parts and do the full circle. I run two laps around the entire community, 6 miles total, and stop in front of my house, panting heavily.

I uncap my water and take a sip, knowing better than to chug it all at once.

I smirk as I see my mother at her window, smiling proudly down at me. I jog into the house with an hour still left before I actually need to start getting ready.

"Morning, bud." My father says as I pass him in the hallway.

I smile and shake my head at the nickname before responding.

"Early day?" I ask, noticing that he is already dressed for work, which is odd because he never leaves before I do and I've still got two hours before I need to leave.

He nods and an expression I can't name crosses his face before he quickly smiles, though the smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"Oh. Well... have a good day." I say as I move past him to my room, which holds my own private bathroom.

I place my iPod on it's charging dock after removing my headphones. The song "Fight Song" starts playing through the speakers. Singing along, I strip until I am naked and move to my bathroom and start the cold water.

I never take hot, or even warm, showers. It's counterproductive. You take a shower to get clean, but if the hot water makes you sweat, even after you get out, how are you still clean?

I step under the icy water and wet my hair thoroughly before washing it with shampoo and rinsing it. I wash my body with my Moroccan oil infused vanilla scented body wash. I rinse off and step from my shower as I wring the water from my hair. I dry off quickly and put deodorant on before twisting my hair into a towel.

I walk into my room, naked, and find my favorite black dress. Its cotton and form-fitting with a conservative, yet appealing, V-cut neck line. The dress hugs my hips and thighs and stops about half an inch above my knees.

I move to my vanity and start applying make-up. As I am putting my favorite "Crimson Sunset" lipstick on, I see a pair of legs in suit pants step behind me in my mirror.

"Dad, I thought-" my words are cut off as a rough white cloth is placed roughly over my mouth and nose, the sickening metallic scent filling my nose as I gasp.

I look up to see my father. His eyes are red and puffy, as if he's been crying, and betrayal seeps into my veins.

My pain is increased when I see my mother step into the room, her face twisted in a cruel sneer.

My vision blurs before I suddenly lose consciousness.

Eric's Pov

The only thing on my mind as I hold the chloroform soaked rag against my struggling daughter's nose and mouth is Carla, my wife; Asami's step-mother. I have only wanted to make her happy and now... Now I can. She has convinced me that letting Asami live here is causing me too much stress and is costing me too much money. I realize this now, even as I watch the consciousness fade from my nineteen year old daughter's eyes.

Asami's body goes limp and I pick her up, bridal style, and carry her to the black SUV that I had just purchased for Carla yesterday. Already, selling Asami has made such an improvement in mine and Carla's financial situation. I smile, wondering why I had never thought of this before.

Carla's POV

It was so easy talking Eric into selling his daughter I almost laugh out loud as the little bitch falls unconscious beneath my husband's strong grip. Even so, I can't help the satisfied smirk that plays on my lips. Finally the sniveling little wench will be out of my hair!! Speaking of, I wonder if Eric will take me to the salon today to get my highlights re-done and get a mani-pedi. He is so whipped. If he'd sell his daughter for me, how could he tell me no to getting my hair and nails done. It's all just too easy!!

The ride to the slave house takes 2 hours, a drive in which I must constantly reassure Eric that he is doing what is best for us. Like, yawn! Just grow some balls and get it over with. Like a band-aid, just rip it off!

I giggle at the thought, reminded of the time I listened in to Eric reading the story of Hansel and Gretel to Asami when she was little. In all reality, that is where I got this idea. It took me MONTHS to find the right connections to a slave market and a year after that for them to trust me enough to even consider buying Asami when she turned 18, though that hadn't gone according to plan because Eric kept backing out until now. I kept them updated on pictures once she turned 18 and they provided me with the chloroform and other necessary items it may take in order to "subdue" Asami long enough to get her to the slave house.

Finally, we arrive at the slave house and Eric carries her inside while I wait in the car.

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