And of course, Sarks escalated so much that they reached for Krychecks and brought them up to speed.
Well, let’s just say Krychecks were more than happy when they got to start to drug us, but he recognized what Sarks had not: my darkness and how it had oozed to others.
He found it fascinating.
I was awake, naked on the rack, and Krychecks had been here for some time.
I had no idea how long it had been—days, weeks, or what—but I was wide awake when they walked in: five Sarks and four Krychecks.
Of course, Krychecks, like always, was wearing a doctor’s coat, an arrogant expression, and his cruel eyes were fixed on my naked body, not entirely clinical.
This did not sit well with the other males, like Adam and Charles, who growled low; Tim and Taylor tensed; and Dresden and Constantine put their wizards’ lights on, meaning glowing violet eyes.
I kept my expression neutral; Wulfe did not care; he did not react at all.
And I had kind of accepted it, or let it fuel my darkness.
Krycheck, who was in the lead, walked up to me, really close to me, and said, “You know what, the more I have studied you, the more I am convinced you should be mine. I will tame you, and this side, this is a very useful side; all I need to do is a bit of rewiring in your brain, and arrfghh…ghk…sfb.”
His rant stopped as I had gotten my wrist in the correct position, and I sank my very poisonous nails into his liver.
My vampire side wanted these shitheads dead, so my nails had been upgraded when I had first seen them.
Sarks said, “Oh, her nails, she has some poison on them as well.”
“Hmm, fascinating,” one of the Krychecks muttered.
The second version of Krychek moved to Mimosa, trying to push her buttons.
Again, he was not careful and soon dropped dead, as Mimosa too had her poison nails as well.
We were flexible, and our nails were long; Krychek was really pressing close.
Well, he was asking for it.
One of Krychek’s said then, “Fine, let’s make them a bit more harmless. I have here experimental compounds, 6 different ones, and we will test each one. Now, let’s start, my love.”
He looked at me and made my darkness even more rampant.
“She will get 4.5 mg Q6h for five days and then raise the dosage 9.8 percent with each infusion. We start to map her brain on day 11 and add to her a constant IV of detomidine, thiopental, and Rohypnol, as well as that new version of codeine; the dosage would be calculated by 80 kg and factor in her hypermetabolism.” He dictated in a crisp voice.
“Surely you can manage such calculations?” He glanced at Sark, who almost sneered as Krychek was in the mood to be an arrogant bastard.
He moved on, rattling dosages for everyone, trying to charm females as well as some of the men, promising Tim and Taylor prestige and money in exchange for their loyalty.
Let’s just say his offer was not well-received.
Sarks were slightly nervous, as they had not meant for Krychecks to take over, but it was what it was, and they were ready to see if Krychecks could do anything to us.
As they put the infusion on, they first knocked us out so they would have time to set everything up and make sure we could not reach lines or anything else.
Krycheck had ordered a very heavy combo for Wulfe, who seemed a bit bewildered, as he had lost his memory and thus did not recall what he had done, Krycheck.
And then it started.
As always, when Krychek really digs in.
I woke up, utterly confused.
I did know who I was, but what was I supposed to be doing?
I had no idea.
There was pain, there was rage, and there was still this hum.
Something made me give my rage even more to others, but in my utterly fucked-up state, let’s just say doses were more than generous, so I literally more or less bathed my pack members in my rage, my darkness, my killer side, and all other less nice facets that I had in me.
Sure, we were more or less confused and messed up, but then again, darkness found it utterly perfect; now it could function, no hindrance; it burrowed deep in our minds, giving us ideas as well as boosting us.
Sure, we had a plan to save everyone and then have a gorefest, but now, let’s just say the last of any kind of moral or hindrance was slowly wiped off.
I had no idea of the time.
I was lying once again in a padded cell, now alone, naked; the walls were full of deep gouges, claw marks almost.
There was blood splatter, human blood, that much I could smell.
I could taste something in my mouth, not sure what. New chapters come out on g.com first.
I had flashes of biting someone, his face turning green as he died.
Sarks talking, Krychecks waiting for something more.
I recall one conversation, or snippets of it, where Krychek seemed to dig something more inside me.
Sarks were less happy as all this cost labor, and they had to hire new guys as they did not want to do dirty stuff themselves, and since Krychek’s poisons made our bodies useless for Sarks’ human plans, it was another minus.
But now it was too late for regrets; they had called Krychek themselves here, and now they would have to just deal with them.
I raised my head as I heard footsteps.
Hmm, victims.
I shuffled to sit.
I did not care about my nakedness, but I tensed, ready.
I was skeleton-skinny, feral, and not really aware of my surroundings or what I was going to do next.
But as Krychek just did not learn, he had drugged or put me into my most dangerous state, as a soulless killing machine and something a bit more.
But he did not know about our new network, which connected me to others and made us pack.
It had been an utter disappointment for him, as he had at one point brought a few of us together, but we did not attack each other; instead, we huddled close, did not talk, and just seemingly sat there, tense, frail, but not aggressive towards each other.
But what he did not know was that we were actually interacting; with pheromones, we smelled each other and gave out ours to others.
Krychek’s drugs had erased our human minds or suppressed them, and now we were much more animalistic, but not entirely run by instinct; we had no more human morals, human thoughts, or human states of being a victim.
We were something he had never seen, nor anyone, actually, as I was unique; no one would ever be the same as me.
I was the alpha female, communicating with my pack; we were talking in a language that they had no hope of understanding or interpreting, as they had no idea what we were doing, and our huddling and grunting made us seem even more animalistic.
Krycheck watched us and pondered, “I guess her higher function has been shut down, and this is kind of an atavistic or animalistic part of her brain, but as she is volatile, we cannot get a decent scan. It would be interesting to see.”
One of the Sarks muttered, “Who cares about her mind? But you have poisoned her so her enzymes are useless as well as her blood; now she and others are just expenses instead of bringing money in.”
Krycheck scoffed.
He said, “You, little-minded scientist, can’t you see? We can get data; all we have to do is find a way of restraining them during the scan, but my scanner is expensive, and the restraint system needs to be bulletproof. I won’t have them wreck it. God knows what neurochemicals they are cooking.”
Sark said, “Well, spinal tap has revealed nothing new.”
Krycheck turned to Sark.
looked at him like an adult would look at a child who just does not get it.
He said, “Your machines are crude; we need to map and classify molecules, maybe an electron microscope, and do many tests, not just your standard analyzer that can barely differentiate oxytocin from serotonin.”
His voice was as condescending as possible; it really oozed arrogance and contempt, superiority, making Sark bristle even more.
As time was something that we did not really map or log, I had no idea how long they let us be together before knocking us out, and I woke up alone in my padded cell, feeling feral, but I did not want to show Krychek, as I knew he was watching.
It was as if my senses were so damn sensitive that I could hear his heartbeat.
So I just was lying there on the grubby floor, smelling everything once again around me, and knew soon, soon we will have our fun, and then each Krychek will witness what we are doing, and they are utterly powerless to do anything but die.
My skin felt sore; there was pain, discomfort, and achiness, and there was rage.
It took a bit of time for me to find what I was looking for, meaning my rage or my powers or our connection to others, and then I always acted.
As I felt others, I sent them whatever I had found, usually a hefty dose of my rage and my darkness, ever so eager to slip in too.
This was different from what had happened during that spell when we females had been imprisoned.
Now my darkness was awake; it had enemies.
It had a purpose.
And it was not just merely a need to kill and maim, but there was this dark promise of pleasure to come.
A promise to feel our power over them, over victims, and a promise of seeing them dying, seeing us being the ones to decide when, how fast, and how painful, and this was my darkness fully unleashed; it had fun.
It was waiting; my vampire powers ignited other vampire sides, meaning they reeked of all things burning as their bloodlust escalated, and since they could eat humans, there were casualties whenever someone went in while one of them was awake.
My vampire side did not want to cleanse herself, so I did not bite.
Why others but not me?
My poison nails were potent, and I could mask them.
So once someone came in, my fingers looked perfectly normal, but once they were in striking distance, I dropped my camo power and slashed.
As for vampires, my poison did not kill outright, but for humans, it was lethal, and it was rapidly metabolized so they could not get a sample; it had already been corrupted.
And of course, my fangs were potent as ever; they had not yet come up with a way to shut my fangs, so I could do pretty interesting compounds, lethal, painful, but unique.
As they defied the laws of chemistry, they had a hard time trying to map the molecular blueprint of my poisons, as certain substances and even atoms should not be able to combine the way I had made them.
And for Sarks, this was almost as insulting because they wanted data, data that they could use.
So my little concoction, a very complex, impossible poison that should not exist in the first place, was the ultimate insult towards them, and there was no way for them to replicate or test it.
We were so much more than I had been last time when Sarks had gotten his hands on me, and now, others, well, they had truly chewed bigger pieces than they could swallow and then asked Krychek in the mix.
Well, him being an arrogant bastard with an overblown ego and no morals; it was bound to end up badly, but as egos went, all of them were too large to even think that they were screwed and badly; well, a lesson was coming their way and for good.
It was just a fact that Sarks, over and over, underestimated us, whereas Krychek overestimated himself and his skills.
He had no idea what or who I was, and I was planning to have some fun with him at first, shake him up, and then it would be time to unleash our version of hell on earth for those who deserved it.
Time went by, and then I sensed one Krychek coming; the door opened, and I had gotten myself to sit.
My legs were bent, and I was just watching as he came in and checked my status.
“Hello, Alec. I have no idea if it is nice weather out, as I have no windows,” I said, my voice calm and collected.
He turned to look at me, grunted, and said, “Well, it is rainy, kind of grey days.” And he continued after the initial shock had faded, “Well, are you feeling better?”
I chuckled and said, “Tell me, Alec, where did it happen? Who betrayed you so badly that it destroyed your soul? Come on, tell me.”
He swallowed, keeping his expression neutral.
An ironic idea sparked in my mind: What if he really started to open up to me?
What if he were to be the next Wulfe?
My saves, I did not really think so, but it would be hilarious, truly.
“Let’s not talk about me, shall we? Can you get up to stand? Are you dizzy? Do you know who you are?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
I drew air in, smelling his pheromones; no feelings here; he was empty.
I wondered, had it always been like this, or had he surgically removed his feelings, or had someone else?
Hmm, let’s probe some more.
“You don’t really feel anything, do you now, Alec? Why is that? Have you undergone some brain surgery? Were you born like this? Was there an accident?”
He cleared his throat and tried again, taking a step towards me.
“Please, try to get up; see if you can stand.”
I stayed sitting, tilted my head, and smelled more air.
He was anxious.
Fine, my darkness found this hilarious, and it wanted more, so I let out my predatory pheromones, feeling that a huge tiger was in the same room with you, and there was no escape.
His breathing got slightly faster, his hands fisted, his neck flushed, and his pulse jumped even more in his neck.
Well, let’s tease some more.
I let my eyes turn black, my fangs drop, and I stared at his neck, letting drool drip from the corner of my mouth.
He swallowed and said, “Are you bloodthirsty? Tell me what you prefer; we have others than mere human blood too. I can get you some.”
I licked my lips, my voice darkening.
“Why want some plastic-bagged crap when it is from the vein best? You are not exactly human anymore…yum.”
He did not say anything more but turned around and walked away, calmly, but his pulse had jumped 30 points more.
As a door closer, I let my fangs go back up and smiled to myself.
I was good at unnerving even Krychek, and soon, so soon, he would be one pleading and begging for something that would never come his way.