16. Always.

I woke up cold, and I was hurt. I felt fucking weaker, very much so. I couldn't feel Damon in my mind , and I opened my eyes. The light went into my eyes, and I closed them with a grunt. Fine, let's take it again. I slowly got my eyes used to the light, and it felt like they were being covered in crud before I got them open properly.

I looked around and tried to get my head going. My thoughts were even slower, if possible; I felt disoriented; the pain was taking over my mind as I ached all over, and the agony tore through me as I tried to move. I made a noise, or at least tried to make some noise, but my throat was very sore and dry. 

I was still in the same room, and I, too, had vervain and aconitum and apparently some metals going on. I saw the drip bags glittering with a metallic sheen and the poison green hue that the aconitum and vervain brought out. Green drop after green drop dripped into my veins, draining what little strength I had left. My stomach churned. I tried to turn my head, but I was dizzy and terrible.

It caused a wave of nausea to come up from my stomach. I felt really sick and threw up on the floor. I threw up bloody foam, stomach acids, and spit. I just turned my head so I wouldn't throw up on my bed.

I was in diapers; I felt that too, but whether I had done anything in them, I couldn't tell as the drugs kept my senses so fucking numb and weak that it was difficult to perceive anything about my body, anything other than the pain that tormented me. 

The lights were yellow, and I knew I had a fever. Oh fuck, that's nice. An infection or some kind of reaction. I'd lost even more weight, and the good thing was that the shackles were looser again, and if I could just get myself to function, then maybe I could get out; but what fucking good would it do if I was this fucking weak?

I started hating this place, and that was only good because hatred would be the first step to getting my rage out, and now I didn't feel so merciful at all. If I could get my rage out, I would definitely slaughter everyone I caught.

 Damon opened his eyes as I was contemplating my own thoughts. He was even worse.

He said in a quiet, weak, fragile voice, as if he didn't have the strength to speak, " You've been in treatment again for at least a week. I don't know when they did something to us sometimes. You have metal poisoning, mercury. It makes me sick. I don't have a sense of time enough to be sure how fucking long we've been here."

I nodded and kept vomiting now and then. The mercury made my stomach turn, and I threw up bloody foam or spat it on the floor. I had nothing in my stomach to come up any worse, but convulsions went through my body as the nausea always reached its peak. 

Damon seemed to pass out again, and Adam and Samuel were pale and skinny but in a deep sleep. They both got aconitum and silver and several bags of medicine. I knew we were all in for quite a recovery when we got out of here.

I couldn't trust that anyone would even look for us when Bran had been off doing his own thing and Magnum in Europe. My network was taken care of, so I just had to be the one to get us out of here.

Just because I was an awake individual, but I should be sneaky, and now I shouldn't look too strong. I should make the scientists see me as weak, not a threat at all. Let them assume they had me under control. Then I should just hang on and see where this thing took us.

I was getting ready to play the victim when I saw the men's bags were almost empty again. I still threw up on the floor, but I let the pissed-offiness grow, the resentment grow and develop, but I kept both emotions tightly hidden. I could feel something loosening in my mind, and my mind was so damn slow it took time for me to realize that something whatever Damon had done to my darkness was loosening, my darkness my inner beast was getting out, I let it, not even tried to stop it. It would take a little time as it had been pushed quite deep but I was more than ready.

My role was now Victim. Weak victim for that. I just hung back in chains, let my breathing be shallow, labored, vomited loudly, and kept hanging over the side of the bed before I wearily got into a better position.

Damon looked at me with great concern. He, too, closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep. I heard footsteps approaching again. A wave of nausea hit me again, and I vomited spectacularly just as the men entered the room. I had managed to bite inside my mouth so there was red blood in my vomit. Looked much more dramatic too.

The scientists came into the room and ordered the cleaners. He looked my vomit puddle with disgust.

Another doctor said to one nurse. "Get the cleaners. Tell them there's biological material in here and bring the bucket."

A few minutes later, three cleaners with carts came into the room, soaked the vomit off the floor, washed with several substances and apparently then disinfected with some kind of light.

 Meanwhile, the investigators were palpating Adam and Samuel. Both now had several rows of stitches and had their bags changed, including some metals and drugs. Neither woke up even though the bearded doctor examined and pressed their stomachs quite long and hard.

Damon moaned weakly as they pressed on him and I saw Damon was dissected alive. A y-incision cut across his perfect body, and I saw there were staples and stitches. I could tell that sight alone made my rage bubble up a bit. Damon's bags were also changed, but this time, he was not anesthetized. The infusion pump was just turned on, and then the men moved on to me. 

The men started examining me. The nurses were changing bags, and there was a bloody bracelet on my ankle, which they scanned, so they must have got the right poisons on me.

I complained of pain as the men pressed on my stomach in many places, and I saw it was scarred in many places. I had been then dissected properly. They talked amongst themselves about some procedures they had done for me, some of which I recognized because they were real surgical procedures. I kept my role on, letting their words sank in my mind waking up my darkness even more so.

Still, they had literally played with my body like some children of Satan, trying to see what would happen if they removed my entire intestines when I was no longer healing directly or removed most of my liver and poisoned my spleen with some kind of satanic nerve poison. Or put metals in my kidney.

The nurses changed or checked my diaper; it was empty, and according to them, I had produced nothing out of my body for 50 hours now; they found it fascinating how I could get my body to work even though I couldn't get the waste out. I was freak, abomination.

 Then they put a bucket in which I vomited. They were very pleased that I threw up. They planned new metals. Now, they were adding iron. At least there would be no anemia, but too much iron was probably not good. Then, they added zinc and copper.

And, of course, mercury would continue in the drip, as would vervain and aconitum. Also, there was a nice bunch of other herbs, and I did not know their effects, and I don't know if these had any, either. 

But fine, the worse you feel, the more intense the rage. I let myself be all limp while the scientists were measuring everything. The stitches were in the middle of my stomach, but in a different place. Then the scientists left again, and the drugs put me into a deep sleep.

Then, when I woke up again, I found I was getting worse and worse, and the men's condition was going down too, but my rage was surfacing appropriately, and I did not know how long we had been here. It would take time to get my darkness unleash my rage and probably my vampire side as well, turning me into monster. 

I had memories of several visits from the investigators, watching me vomit, shake, and be all lethargic, and then I would always pass out as the drugs took over, but I knew that when I got my rage right, the drugs wouldn't work.

Damon hadn't been awake much that I could remember, and I could feel new lines of stitches decorating my stomach. I wasn't so cold now, well either the infection was getting better or I was already in sepsis, but I didn't let it bother me now. It was not important right now.

I heard footsteps again. I didn't even bother to lean towards the bucket now; my stomach was so empty, and the bloody foam that dried on my lips only added to my obvious weakness. I was now trying to be as weak as possible.

I was out of bags when the scientists and nurses came into the room. They always went through the men first and then examined me.

Beard said, "This is getting pretty weak. I don't recommend we keep this asleep; it could be fatal, and this is too important a resource to kill, at least not yet."

Bald nodded and likewise, "I concur; this one seems to have a weakness for metals and herbs, very interesting."

The men were still pressing on my stomach; for me now, they just put a couple of small bags to drip slowly, and the men laughed at how pathetically weak I was—such a freak. I kept my role on, not even try to look strong.

 In the end, they didn't put me to sleep now because I was weak enough. Damon looked at me worriedly as I limply lay quite unresponsive to the scientists' treatment. Adam and Samuel were in the same room and quite unconscious.

Damon was also awake and had overheard the doctors talking. He looked at me with furrowed brows as if he were trying to get in touch with my mind, but soon, his eyes went out, and he sighed, falling into unconsciousness.

The men's comments about my condition made my rage well up, and I felt it come out of its well. My darkness pushed out fully, igniting my rage, waking up my vampire side as well. I controlled myself, concentrating on being a pathetic freak, and soon the victims left the room. 

Now, it was time to act and show them I was not a pathetic freak. There were no cameras in the room and no surveillance. They didn't want any evidence of their crimes.

When the victims left, I let it come to the surface. My rage, absolutely. I felt it burning the drug-induced haze out of my head, pushing the metal-poisoning nausea out, too. My darkness was out too and I was searching for victims. I had real need to kill, to maim and not painlessly

When the white-hot force had burned everything else out of my veins but the desire to escape, I concentrated and tore my hands free of the spiked chains. My wrists were quite a sight, but it didn't matter.

The smell of my blood woke Damon. He looked at me with hope in his eyes. He saw my rage and tried to stay awake because he knew we were about to escape. I ripped the cannula out of my neck first, tied the tube, and sat up. I wrenched the shackles off my ankles. I was free. My darkness was out fully. 

Damon looked at me and said, " You look great, baby. You're a force of nature."

 His voice was weak, but there was hope in it and a strong desire to escape. When I looked into his blood-red eyes, I knew my blood smelled too good, and I was going to give it to him. 

I got up and went and ripped all the hoses off the men. I knotted them and took the shackles off everyone. I let the men wake up as the medicine wasn't keeping them unconscious anymore. now nothing mattered, but freeing these and getting my victims then. 

The next step would be to get the men in working order. So then I gave them my blood. It may have had metals in it, but I knew that Damon, at least, needed the blood. It would do good to him. 

He drank greedily as I put my torn wrist in his mouth. He actually almost ate my wrist. He grunted and gulped, but he was still weak, and after ten liters, he let go and sat up. I saw it had refreshed him a lot, and by the time I had finished giving him the clothes from the cupboard and had put the scrubs on myself, he was ready. I just thought in my mind that these scrubs won't be very clean once am done. 

He didn't have the rage on display like I did. He stared at me; doctor mode was about to kick in, but now was not the time. He sensed my rage, my darkness and realized it was needed now that we were going out of here.

I moved over to Adam, unshackled him, and put my wrist in his mouth. The drugs had worn off enough that both men were awake—the same thing. My blood was tasty. He was not vampire, but he liked blood, at least right now. 

These had shackles on their legs that I hadn't yet removed, and Damon staggered over to Adam to remove them while I let Adam still drink my blood. I then moved to Samuel and saw Adam already sitting down and dressing.

By the time I was helping Samuel, Adam, and Damon were all ready. I left them to help Samuel and went looking for an exit. Nothing was a problem. I slaughtered everyone I could catch, and I caught many. I enjoyed when I killed them all. I felt pure pleasure, uninhibited pleasure of taking lives. My inner beast was enjoying itself so much. 

 I went like a terminator and found the outer door relatively quickly. Corpses were left strewn along the corridors, showing where I was going; some escaped, too, but I killed both doctors and the four satanic nurses. So much my need to save and protect, push me far enough and this is result. I was bloody, smiling extremely cruelly every time I got hold a victim.

I didn't even bother to collect the drugs now, as I had to get the men to safety. They had stitches, too, and my blood would only last for a limited time.

The men followed suit and didn't actually kill anyone. I did all the slaughtering. It was so much fun. Something inside of me, enjoyed it and fully. I was up to my elbows in blood and guts and whatnot when I found the front door, and Damon gave me the coat he had found. In the jacket pocket were the car keys, and we went out the door.

I started pressing the key and soon one car beeped, so I found the car the keys fit and went to the driver's seat. The men didn't object because my rage was obviously on quite a display.

Adam and Samuel got in the back. No one said anything. My rage was still roasting at full blast, keeping me functional, but I knew I could take it. Taking care of the men would be the priority, not me, but I would not say that. My inner beast, my darkness was slightly calming down as those who hurt us were dead now. My rage blasted open in my veins, giving me sense of power like no other.

I started driving and soon recognized where we were, and then I knew to tell someone where to go to clean up. I drove us to the house. Obviously, I was pretty pissed off because Damon's teeth were about to spill velvet.

Luckily, there was a container in the car where he could always pour his dose. I mean, a used coffee cup with a lid on it. This velvet was black. And it was fucking strong.

I calmed down and hid my rage as much as possible as we drove into the driveway. Damon's teeth stopped spilling the velvet, and he left the mug in the car when he got out of the car. The men wobbled a little as we walked towards the door. I could see scaffolding on the roof; apparently, the skylights had been replaced. There was probably a reason.

 Colin, Charles, and Bran were already waiting at the house. They opened the door and came up to the car. 

I calmly walked up to the house, my rage kept me functional and seemingly sane. So I kept my posture and said, "Take care of those three first. Damon has been autopsied alive, and those two have been kept in aconitum, silver Damon in vervain drip for weeks."

Colin nodded, grunted, and went to support Damon as he was about to fall; Charles helped Adam, and Bran supported Samuel as they took them to Med bay for treatment.

Colin, Charles, and Bran started to examine and help the wobbly men. Apparently, my blood was wearing off when I saw Colin had dragged Damon to Med bay already. I had done what I had to do. I had saved my pack, and now it would be time to recover.