“Come on, follow me, right this way, not long, right here, see the circle, go in there, we will send you guys to safety and to be cared for.” I tried to keep my voice normalish, without its pleasurable undertone, as we walked in the corridor lined with dead or dying guards, sarks, and krychecks, as well as others.
One of the females whom I was saving muttered as we passed a dying Sark, “I hate that guy, all his versions. Hate you.”
She stopped and actually kicked the dying Sark in the stomach, her face in an angry sneer.
It was good that she too was feisty and willing to bring this to public attention; for her, we were saviors, and she saw nothing wrong with what we had done in the last five days spent here, slaughtering and torturing everyone slowly and painfully to death while sending people to safety, to Colin and Samuel.
And for others.
Funny thing, the victim count was pretty much higher than what we had expected, and it was nearly 800 victims that we had to send to safety.
So it took time, as we had a circle, and it could transport 27 of them.
Then Colin was connected to Magnum and told him when he had room for some more.
He cursed and cussed in a very expressive manner after the first few batches and said that even Samuel used expressions learned from me, most likely as these, even though they were mobile, were not in good shape.
Partly, they were mobile, as we had given our blood- not much, as it was somewhat tainted, but drops- and Dresden and Constantine had done their utmost to clean my blood donation as well as they could, meaning I had given two pints of blood, and it was rationed, cleaned, and use as little as possible.
We were a bunch of walking skeletons with skin on.
My darkness nestled happily within us, giving us many wonderful ideas.
And Colin had not been too happy about that either, as Magnum had mentioned it, but Magnum, thank god, had kept his mouth shut about Wulfe and most of our injuries, though my wrist tingled as I felt Colin reaching for me, his mate, to see in what shape I was.
Not very good, but I could do this, as my darkness and my churning rage drove me on.
I would not say that the rest of us were any better; Elena and Katherine, as well as Mimosa and Shadow, were almost skeletal thin, their faces gaunt, and their expressions rage-filled, and Magnum, Adam Charles, Dresden, and others did not ooze vitality and strength like normally but rage, darkness, and bloodlust.
Their frames were skinny as well, darts littering the floor, and I knew that between Murdock, Alaric, Dexter, Tim, and Taylor, they had some kind of bet going on: who had gotten the most darts to themselves?
As I led my group to circle, and they were sent away, Magnum looked at me and said, “I get it now. I get why you are so sloppy when you have this wonderful rage on. I mean, I am sloppy too, as nothing feels—it is just funny to see them trying to shoot us, and nothing happens.”
His voice seemed almost resonating at different levels, and there was a smile etched on his face.
I said to him, “Yeah, it feels good, but let me tell you, recovery isn’t easy, though I suspect we will spend a long time sleeping. Well, we can think of it as a kind of hibernation; after long days of work, it is good to have a nice long sleep, right?”
Magnum chuckled and said, “I am not sure if I am in the mood for that. I feel like I could go and do some hunting, like you did, back in the day.”
I smirked; those were good days, but as I looked at Magnum, he was skinny, full of bullet wounds, smelling like a pharmacy, and had blood spatters on his scrubs, as some of the stitches had ripped off or bullet wounds had bled.
I said, “You are in no shape to go anywhere. Sure, you feel like a million bucks, but even your body has limits, and I doubt you want to end up in one of Salvatore’s minds if your straps run out.”
He grunted, unhappy as I had denied his pleasure, but he could not deny my words.
Colin had told Magnum that it would take a bit of time for him to get this lot somewhere, and he would say when to move more.
We had another teleportation circle for stuff that we found here, and if we weren’t moving people, we were piling loads after loads and sending them away to Bran, as well as a bunch of wolves and shifters. New chapters come out on NovelPing first.
Our people were receiving them, and again, we had to pace ourselves as our loads were huge.
We were getting everything we could, and those surveillance tapes had already been given to the NSA.
Well, there were NSA people on base, seeing what we sent, and they were most impressed, but as said, they had no official reason to come and save us, so we had to do this like so.
Free ourselves and get them evidence.
Sure, they might take drugs and such, but as it took time to do this officially, meaning those tapes were sent first to the division with record tips, it would then review them, and then knowledge and data would go higher- and by the time big bosses would have given the green light, we would be out of here already.
But this would give them plenty of ammo against Sarks and Krychecks as well; some drugs were sent to the FDA, as there were NSA as well as FDA people on site, and they wanted certain compounds or themselves to be studied.
It was all good to mask this as a semi-official mission while having the time of our lives, killing as many as we could, torturing and maiming, enjoying their pain and letting pleasure fuel us.
There was no tomorrow, no plans about what to do, no ideas about how to proceed after all this; there was only this moment, this pleasure, and everything else was not so important.
In the stark, cold linoleum flooring of a hospital, or clinic, or whatever this had been built to be, there was blood on the floor: smeared, splattered, in pools, drying, wet.
There were drag marks as someone had tried to crawl and survive, but they did not; walls were lined with bloody handprints, gun smoke, and blood, and guts smelled in the air, masking the overwhelming stench of the hospital and turning this into a huge slaughterhouse.
Each of us was clearing floors one by one, taking everything and anything we could think of that would be useful.
And it was good for us to be so many, as, for example, Elena and Katherine took logs of what had been used to monitor keystrokes on computers, as well as drug cart records and dosage information.
Alaric had found connections, contacts, and a Rolodex full of data.
Magnum, Murdock, and Dexter had found an armory and sedative darts, drugs that were not supposed to exist, as well as guns, which had been the army’s biggest secret, but who had gotten them into the hands of sharks?
Well, let them figure it out.
Everything from cleaning supplies to personnel records was sent away so that this vast web would be destroyed.
Say, Sark used one specific company for cleaning supplies, and he always wanted certain products.
Now there was a record of this company’s representatives visiting this place and several others, seeing victims but not acting, only delivering Sark his needed chemicals, so they were aware and would face some heat over this.
It would be a long-term deal and not something that was just going to blow over, but it might make Magnum and others in our pack as NSA agents, if they so chose.
It was ironic; well, one might think it less ironic, but just how many humans really hated Sark here and were so damn ready to testify against them as well as defend us?
We were their true saviors, heroes even in the human mind.
Well, let’s just say that as humans are tortured, they kind of crack and break, and then when saving happens, they cling to those saviors.
So it might be that we would end up with quite a heroic reputation and Sarks as villains as well. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Krychecks would be very hated, as one thing humans could do was tell tales and spread the word.
So take one human who has been here and get them well; no disclosure, no gag order, and the story will spread like wildfire.
There are newspapers and magazines eager for headlines, and so our story might blow up, but it will then in the future, and I have no idea what the NSA or other entities might do.
Would they let people talk freely at first, or would they have stayed quiet before official charges and whatnot?
But the fact was people saw them as heroes, and it was most likely to spread.
But I did not feel so damn heroic, as I had too much fun killing and enjoying my power over the life and death of my mortal enemies.
Right now, that pesky magic that allowed them to replicate is not a big deal; after all, it would ensure I would always have my victims, and plenty of them, and they would know what I could do to them.
Oh, glorious kills to come in the future.
With no one saying to me no, no one reigning me in, no one stopping me, or telling me to cool it off.
I was the biggest, baddest monster that there was, and it felt so damn glorious.
Now this place that had brought us pain and agony had become our playpen, as I had given my powers to my pack, and yeah, I considered this idea of a pack as mine; Damon could keep the Salvatores and Mariella; the rest belonged to me.
It was, after all, his choice and his choice alone who he spent time with.
And I was not going to give up my share of the pack to him for doing so, as he was nothing more than a sex-crazed old hoot with the addition of Mariella’s cunt.
He had no brain in his head; instead, he used his dick to do the thinking.
His biggest achievement was turning Mariella into a living sex doll and then regretting it, only to enjoy it and regret it some more.
He was a real-life hot-and-cold man who had no idea what he actually wanted, nor did he go by what he needed.
He was my mate, my alpha male, or at least he thought so, but in reality, I had no true alpha male; I was way too strong for a sex addict like him.
I was walking, leading the next group soon ready to be sent off, smelling their pain, agony, and fear but also their hope, and I saw worship in their eyes as they looked at me.
One of the men, a tall, brown-haired, normal-looking, slightly older man, asked me, “Why save us? Why not just escape? I mean, there are so many of us, and you can’t be sure if they sent more men here. Why risk your freedom for us?”
He was baffled.
I was in even worse condition physically than they were, but I said calmly, “It is kind of what I do, what we do: save others and take the hit that others cannot. Maybe we have powers for a reason, and the reason is this, or then we are just so fucking noble.”
Slight sarcasm colored my voice, but the man was quiet; he was at the end of his rope, not dying, but he had almost given up, and now this saving seemed almost too much for him to understand.
Humans, their minds were something so simple.
It was not for me to try to explain everything; instead, I just led him and others to the waiting area, which we had set up with sofas and such, waiting for people to be teleported into safety.
All the time, pleasure and my darkness thrummed in me, swirling like ink in water, making me feel so damn godlike, like nothing would be impossible for me, not even in this state.