Despite the sacrifice, the bleeding doesn’t stop.

The lock snaps. She freezes in horror and watches the door slowly open. Slowly, slowly, but not all the way. No more than a foot ajar, the door stops, then closes and the lock snaps shut. She sighs in relief but sits in paralysis, not knowing what to do with all the blood pouring from the tip of her finger. How to hide the evidence for when the door finally does open. The unfathomable amount that came from just a little prick!

The lightbulb winks out with a click. She is blind, whimpering in the darkness. The lock snaps once again and she hears the door creak open.

She can sense his presence like the brush of steel on her skin.

“Daddy?” she cries out softly.

“Yes, my sweet. I am here.”

Instinctually, or maybe involuntarily, she lifts her arms into the black nothingness and is raised off the ground. She feels him cradle her as he walks over to the mattress and lies down with her on his chest. She curls up, pressing her ear to the velvet of his suit jacket, trying to stop herself from shaking. She doesn’t want to cry but being so forgivingly held by him makes it hard to hold it in.

He runs his long fingers through her pigtails, down her arms, and to her hands, feeling every bit of her. How she trembles so softly and sniffles like a lullaby. He could smell the blood the moment he opened the door. That sweet tang of violence that makes him salivate. Coming from her, it’s all the more impossibly irresistible. He brings her hand to his face and kisses her fingers, careful not to bite. Careful . . . not . . . to bite . . .

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispers.

“That is . . . That is okay. You are safe with me now. You are safe. You are okay. You are . . .” He loves the taste of her. He would drink her forever if not for the fact that she is finite. He would drink her forever if not for the fact . . . “Vanilla, my sweet. Do you know that you are Daddy’s favorite?” he asks, high off her scent.

Her ears perk up as her mind races, and for the first time there’s a silence in her stomach. Don’t you see? But she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand the question. She doesn’t understand that there are more little girls like her in the Outside. Because the Outside is filled with creatures and the only ones capable of emotion are her and her daddy. She doesn’t understand that her daddy has options, that he could possibly be with anyone but her.

She doesn’t understand that love is a choice.

So, she simply answers, “Yes, Daddy. I do.”

He grins as he kisses her fingers, feeling himself retreat into that delicious euphoria, making sure to keep at least a single tether of control bound in reality as he sinks into her.