Bound by Rings

I heard a moan and turned my head to Victor's shadowy figure on the opposite side of the alley. He remained seated, his body convulsing with a violent shudder. A raspy chuckle slipped from his pallid lips. "Quick learner, girl, but you nearly jeopardized both of us," he murmured.

His debilitated condition and my robust state emboldened me, and I scowled at him. "Me jeopardized us? You were the one draining me," I retorted.

"Simply a survival instinct," he argued.

"One that almost cost us both our lives?" I pointed out.

Victor struggled to rise, and I hastened to my feet. If he wanted to take another shot at me, he'd have to catch me first. "It was important to build our relationship."

I blinked. "Say that again?"

He straightened up, wincing as his back crackled like a series of fireworks. "I mean what I mean. We are linked."

"I grasped that part." I paused, furrowing my brow and shaking my head. "Actually, I didn't comprehend that part. What are you talking about?"

He raised his left hand and exhibited the ring that bore a striking resemblance to mine. "These ornamental elements weren't just made of metal. They were imbued with the blood of an ancient undead being and a spiritually resilient mortal. When a vampire and a human put on these rings, they become entwined. If one experiences agony, the other will sense an echo of that pain. If one perishes, the other meets the same fate."

I extended my hands in front of me.. "Hold on a second. If what you're saying is true, and it sounds absolutely ludicrous, then you truly are a creature of the night?"

"Yes."

"And if you attempted to harm me, you'd suffer as well?" I guessed.

"Indeed."

"And you're a jerk?"

"No."

I shrugged. "I figured I'd give it a shot."

"Pretty funny. His face had the graveness of a tombstone. "However, we do not-"

"Wait a moment." I displayed my own ring. "Why aren't you dead if Ben had this ring and he's dead?" I pondered.

"When he died, he wasn't putting on the ring. Instead, we discovered it in your possession," Victor pointed out.

"Why would he remove it? Better yet, how could he have removed it?" I questioned.

"I do not know, but we have more pressing concerns," he reminded me.

I furrowed my brow. "Indeed, you're right. Those individuals might locate us once more. I need to reach the authorities and-"

"-and disclose what?" Victor interrupted. "You evaded men wearing black suits who had a werewolf working with them and had your life saved by a vampire?"

I scowled at him. "I must inform somebody about this. It's too immense for me."

Victor frowned and tilted his nose up in disdain. "There is one individual in this world who would be intrigued by what you have to express."

"And who might that be, Alpha Earl?"

"Batholomew Smith."

"That's quite a mouthful."

"His mouth is indeed an issue."

"Why should we get in touch with this person instead of someone who could at least give me protection?" I queried.

"I am your protector, and Bartholomew also has additional duties."

I glanced at the deranged vampire and recoiled against the brick wall behind me. "Absolutely not, you are not my protector. You've attempted to kill me twice in twenty minutes, and as far as I'm concerned, that's a record for assassination attempts on my life."

"I am satiated now, and our bond is complete. You have nothing left to fear from me," he responded.

I wasn't reassured. "So you're meant to protect me as you did Ben?" I countered.

Victor's eyes narrowed. "Simply put, he made a mistake. If he had refrained from trouble during the day, I would have been of use to him."

"Great, so you're only useful for what? Twelve hours in a twenty-four-hour day?" I remarked. "Perhaps you were just nodding off in that wooden box where I found you since vampires don't need to sleep?

"While my body may need to rest during the day, my powers are still available to you." He gestured towards the ring. "That will provide you with all the powers you require. By giving you that ring, Ben relinquished those powers."

I paused and furrowed my brow. "So I'm kind of like a vampire during the day, is that right?"

"Yes."

"But without the whole sunburn issue?"

"Perhaps your incessant inquiries are better suited for Bartholomew," Victor suggested.

I responded, "I haven't consented to go with you to see him". Victor approached me with purpose. I attempted to slide away, but he seized my arm and swiftly swept me into his embrace as before. "Hey! Let me down! I can walk!"

"Not as swiftly as me."

I yelped as he darted down the road, carrying me at remarkable speed towards another escapade.

I clutched onto his arms as we zoomed through city blocks like they were frozen in time. Well, they actually were frozen in time, but our speed remained remarkable. I did observe that we weren't moving as swiftly as during our escape from Warehouse Island. Nonetheless, when Victor hit the brakes, we found ourselves several miles away from the river, and for me, it meant being several blocks away from any recognizable area. Surrounding us were aged factory buildings, towering remnants of industrialization with shattered windows for eyes and wide-open doors for mouths. Apart from me, there were a few stray cats, the sole living beings in sight. Not even a single streetlight aided my vision into the labyrinthine streets weaving around the colossal structures. The only open space to behold the stars lay behind us, merely a vast loading area where goods used to be loaded and unloaded.

Victor extended his arms and released me onto the road. I let out a yelp upon hitting the pavement, rubbing my bruised posterior as I scowled up at him. "Could you be more careful next time?" I snapped.

"I would," he replied nonchalantly.

"Thanks, I truly appreciate it."

Victor paid no heed to my sarcasm and proceeded toward one of the buildings that had a pair of closed steel doors. He pushed them open, unveiling precisely what I anticipated—a laboratory resembling that of a deranged scientist, filled with eccentric contraptions and pulsating, vivid lights. Wait, what?

I hastily rose to my feet and gawked at the sight. "What the hell?" I uttered in disbelief.

"Follow me," Victor commanded. He stepped inside, and the doors began to close behind him.

I hurriedly followed suit, narrowly avoiding an impromptu and painful hip alteration. My mouth remained agape as Victor guided me into the depths of the science unfolding around me—bubbling, boiling, fizzing, and popping. The left wall displayed vials of dubious substances, while the right wall was adorned with diagrams, papers, graphs, sketches, doodles, and equations. The center floor was overrun with machines whose purposes I could only guess at, and others I preferred not to fathom.

Unfazed by the peculiarity surrounding us, Victor led me to the rear of the factory floor. In the center, against the back wall, stood a desk, and at the desk sat an odd little man. He possessed long white hair, tied in a ponytail cascading down his back. The man wore a stained white lab coat, showcasing the entire spectrum of colors, including those less aesthetically pleasing. A lengthy white mustache with pointed ends adorned his face, along with bushy eyebrows that obscured the upper halves of his eyes. I estimated his age to be somewhere between ancient and prehistoric. Hunched over a paper, he wrote fervently under the illumination of a simple desk lamp.

Victor advanced towards the desk, while I lingered a few yards away beside a towering spire that could pass as either a gumball machine or a torture device. The elderly man didn't raise his head as he spoke. "What brings you here, and in the company of a young lady, no less? Have you devoured your partner and acquired a new bride?" the old man quipped.

"Ben is deceased," Victor calmly responded.

The man's head jerked up, furrowing his thick brows. "Deceased? Then why am I not celebrating over your remains?"

"because he died before giving up the ring. Victor made a gesture in my direction as he half-turned. "This girl now possesses the ring."

The realization struck me that this must be the renowned Bartholomew Smith. His gaze fixed upon me, and with a nervous smile, I timidly waved. "Um, hi," I replied.

Bartholomew abruptly rose, causing his wooden chair to topple over. He scurried around the desk and reached for my left hand, snatching it from my side. His eyes scrutinized the ring adorning my finger, and disappointment washed over his face. "By God, it is," he muttered. He turned to Victor. "What transpired?"

Victor shrugged. "He was killed because he chose not to wear the ring. Perhaps he neglected its fashionable appeal."

The old man scoffed. "Ben wasn't that foolish. He must have had a motive for entrusting this girl with the ring."

"He didn't bestow it upon me," I interjected. Both men turned their gaze towards me, their expressions filled with intrigue, and I shrank under their penetrating scrutiny. "After all, he just left it in a box beneath my bed. He said that if something happened to him, I should take it and go to a certain warehouse."

"Our headquarters, or they were before this dunderheaded woman led a werewolf there," Victor said.

I glared at him. "I didn't lead anybody to it! I simply followed the instructions in Ben's letter."

Bartholomew arched an eyebrow. "Letter? May I peruse this letter?"

I patted myself down, and panic washed over me. "I believe I misplaced it."

"I possess it," Victor interjected. He retrieved the missive from within his coat, but he swiftly returned it to the inner pocket when Bartholomew reached out for it. "This is a matter between the two of us," he insisted, nodding towards me.

"As Ben's closest confidant and comrade, I believe I have an equal right to peruse his final words," Bartholomew argued. It was evident that these two had a strained relationship.

"Um, gentlemen?" I interjected. They turned their attention back to me, but this time I faced them without intimidation. "Could I have my missive back, please? And could someone please explain what in the world is happening here?"

Bartholomew frowned, and his eyes darted towards Victor. "How much does she know?"

"Enough to survive," Victor replied.

"And hold a job!" I protested.

"As I stated, enough to survive," he reiterated.

"What do you know about this imbecile?" Bartholomew inquired, nodding towards Victor.

I glanced at Victor and stuck out my tongue. "More than I care to know."

Bartholomew smirked and placed his hands on my shoulders. He guided me towards a grimy chair in front of the desk, settled me into the seat, and perched himself on the nearest corner of his desk. A small cascade of papers cascaded to the floor, but he paid no attention to them. He said, "I think we've started off in the wrong direction.

"The wrong body," I whispered.

"Allow me to introduce myself." He slid off the desk, stepped back, and bowed before me. "My name is Bartholomew Williams Arthur Johnson Smith, but those whom I hold in esteem call me Bat."

I raised an eyebrow. "Bat?" I echoed.

"Yes, perhaps because my imagination soars like a splendid flight of bats," he guessed.

"Or maybe your disposition is more bat-like than any fictional vampire," Victor quipped.

Bat shot him a glare but turned his attention back to me. "And what might be your name?"

"Emma Collins."

"Short for Emmanuelle?"

"Yes."

"A really lovely name. Bat moved in a round around the desk before settling into his chair.. He clapped his hands together and frowned. "Well, now that we have exchanged pleasantries, let us delve into the matter at hand. Based on your response to my earlier question, can I safely assume that you are clueless about the events concerning our mutual acquaintance, Ben?"

"Ben was my roommate; he is now deceased, and I am somehow linked to this wandering corpse, that is all I know". Victor rolled his eyes as I jerked my thumb in his direction..

Bat coughed to conceal a snicker. "I comprehend. That provides little insight into your current predicament."

"And what might my current predicament be?"

"You have stumbled into the heart of the supernatural world and are now bound to a most foolish and perilous companion."