Give up

Letting out a choked sob, Ada finally gave up the fight and collapsed exhausted against the woman whose grip had never even come close to loosening despite all her **** struggles. Impossibly strong arms drew her into a cold embrace, and with a strange feeling of unreality Ada realized the woman was humming, crooning as one might to an infant or a beloved pet and gently swaying. Then the grip tightened and she gasped, feeling her ribs creak in protest. She would have liked to have some defiant last words, but all she could manage was, “I...I give up...I give up, okay? I won’t try to run away...” Another pained gasp for air. “Please don’t hurt me!” she pleaded, mentally adding “...too badly.” She knew it was futile.

“Hurt you?” the woman murmured. “No, Amelia wouldn’t hurt you. Don’t worry, little one…” Here she paused, lifting Ada up as though she was no heavier than a feather and carrying her over the bed.

Ada sucked cool air into grateful lungs as the iron hold finally relented and she was gently laid out onto the bed. She stared upward into Amelia’s eyes, feeling weak and exhausted. The startling sense of the surreal was still there, heightened by the fact that she now clearly recognized the woman as the subject of the painting in the hall. She whimpered a little and swallowed hard.

Amelia, for her part, gave her a disconcerting smile, the moonlight putting flecks of silver in her too-bright green eyes and glinting off of her fangs. “No, Amelia wouldn’t hurt you,” she repeated. “Amelia never has guests...”

She reached down, placing a hand on the inside of Ada’s thigh and lifting the leg, running her fingers over the fabric of the jeans, all the way down to the ankle. She smiled again. “You and me, little pet, we’re going to have so much fun...”