My name is Crimson Rose. But everyone I know, just calls me Rose. The humans outside my world think that's an odd name. But not the humans I know. The humans that live in my land, that fear their beastly over lords. The vampires. No one in the outside world seems to know about my homeland. So I would like to tell you my story.
I was a blood slave, to a vampire named Lord Damian Smith. A blood slave, is a slave that a vampire admires more than the rest of his normal feeder slaves.
Before I was even born Lord Smith had chosen me to be his personal blood slave. You see, vampires raid human villages to supply themselves with their human live stock. Lord Smith just happened upon my helpless mother during one of his raids. She was a rare find. And why is that? Well, in the vampire community all beings with blood-red features were revered. My mother's hair was that most beautiful shade of red, but she was too old and weak to be his special little slave, so he took her baby to be his slave in her place.
He knew my mother wouldn't last long, so he locked her away in a room down the hall from him, until she gave birth. She died during child-birth. He was very happy to have me. I was his, from the very first second the light of the moon touched my face. When I was just a baby, he was very kind to me. He made it seem as if I were his own. He bought me little frilly dresses to show me off in. He fed me well. He had put my crib in his room.
He requested a personal washroom be made for me. With a porcelain bath, and chamber pot. It was pasted with shiny green floral wallpaper, and mosaic tile floors. He even got me an oak vanity. It was the most beautiful washroom in the mansion. But that all ended, the night I turned one. From then on he took care of me like a pet. He made me a collar, like all the others feeder slaves. It had a dark red rose imprinted on its tag. He had a cage built for me in the basement. The cage was grand. It was as if built for an imprisoned queen. The bars were made of solid gold. The floor was padded with thick red carpet. There was a huge fluffy bed, with red silk sheets in the middle. And he had given me a couple of books.
The books were "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and "The Odyssey". I read them every day. He fed me from two bowls set on the floor. The food was sickening. A mixture of oats, beef, corn, peaches, cheese, and fish. He would hide a small bite of chocolate at the bottom, so that I would finish the garbage. He still bought me beautiful dresses and showed me off at party though. The only thing he taught me to do was walk, before he decided, he didn't want to take care of me anymore. That's when John come into play. John was Lord Smith's best friend and servant. He picked him to be my personal care taker. Everyday he would take me out of my cage and walk me, feed me, wash me, and if requested, bring me to Lord Smith.
As I grew, I had to learn on my own. I had already learned my place in the world and what was expected of me. By the age of three I had learned to talk, but sadly I wasn't allowed to. As a slave it was a crime to speak unless requested.
I also learned of the other groups of slaves that vampires were terrible creatures. I understood that vampire servants got the best jobs. They bred and took care of the slaves, worked in the slave nursery, prepared meals, and cleaned the mansion. While the servant slaves were awakened at six o'clock early night by a freezing cold hose shower, stripped down and reclothed in clearer rags, then sent off to do jobs like cleaning out the barn, working in the fields to gather crops, washing dishes, sometimes serving food. I think being a servant slave would be far better than being any other slave. The feeder slaves of course were viciously fed upon. But I think I was about six when I learned of the breeders. John had taken me to my master's room.
He had left me there, without checking if the Lord was in. Lord Smith wasn't there, so I wondered around the room. He caught me when he came back, playing with his razor. "You little red bitch. How dare you!" He had yelled. Then he cut my hand with the razor and as punishment he sent me to the breeding building. It was a small tin building in the side yard. That place was a hell hole. The walls were lined with cages, full of humans. None of them knew how to speak, they all just screamed. Every one of them was naked and sickly looking. They were pale and bone thin. The women had tight bulging stomachs.
Of course, I wasn't placed in the cages with them. I was tied to a pole in the corner, but I was still filled with fear and sadness. After that, I never moved from one spot unless Lord Smith asked me to. When I turned ten Lord Smith began drinking from me. It scared me and it hurt very badly. Then he began beating for small mistakes. I hated him. All I wanted to do was get away. I wanted to run from it all. Most of my life was miserable, until my seventeenth year. Here is where my story really begins.