Story time with Trystana #2

De laatste keer hebben we Trystana ontmoet, een vrouwelijke vampier (met hoorns?), die al een tijdje opgesloten zit in een donkere gevangenis tot er vanuit het niets een mysterieuze vrouw verschijnt die haar een verhaal wil vertellen. Of haar verhaal wil vertellen. Trystana heeft nog niet genoeg informatie gekregen om precies te weten wat er aan de hand is, maar ze kan niet wachten om eindelijk achter de waarheid te komen.

Previously with Trystana

Trystana’s meticulously groomed eyebrows arched up, yet no creases appeared on her forehead. Instead, the aforementioned horns twitched, as if ready to impale someone.

The blonde took a step back and held up her hands. She took a deep breath and when she expelled a sigh, the air in the room shimmered and out of nowhere there appeared two comfortable chairs with a table between them.

“Please, take a seat.” With a wave of the blonde’s hand there was another shimmer and a bottle of wine appeared on the table, along with a crystal glass. “Red wine is your favorite, right?”

“What kind of magic is this?” Trystana asked as she eyed the manifested bottle apprehensively. She looked up at the woman. “Who are you, what do you want from me and how the hell do I get out of here?”

The mystery woman sighed again before she sat down on one of the chairs and waved her hand. This time a large, steaming mug of coffee appeared. “Like I said, it’s a long story, and I think it’ll go better if we sit down and have a drink together.” The woman glanced at the bottle of red that Trystana was looking at, trying to determine if maybe it was poisoned. “Trystana, do you really think I would kill you, after keeping you locked away in the dark for so long? I would have had plenty of time to do so before now.”

Trystana couldn’t deny that, at the lack of her preferred liquid, the red wine was her most favorite drink. She had been a prisoner and fighting against the dark for so long that she hadn’t realized how thirsty she really was. Mimicking the woman, she breathed in a lungful of air and let it out in a long sigh. “Fine.”

As she walked over to the empty chair, she added, “You’d better tell me everything, Miss Magic Hands, or I’ll definitely entertain the thought of either draining your blood or impaling you on my horns.” She sat down and crossed her right leg over the other, the slit in her dress exposing the milky-white skin that almost seemed to glitter.

The woman noticed and frowned, the expression on her face quickly turning angry. “Oh fuck no, vampires don’t glitter in my world.”

To be continued…

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