33. You Give Love A Bad Name.

Damien seethed with fury as the alpha heat intensified. Damon had cunningly isolated him, seizing full control. The goddamn heat had given Damon a newfound confidence, rekindling his relationship with Mimi. Determined to break free, Damien yearned to confront Mimi once more, his desperation fueling his resolve. It was time for shed session again and a bad one.

He had been cautious, not wanting to stray too far from Damon's likeness, but now, rage clouded his judgment, urging him to take charge. No longer would he skulk in the shadows, whispering and manipulating Damon. Damon had shown him how vulnerable he was during the last alpha female heat, and the mere thought of Mimi being with Damon again, perhaps in the Azores, felt like a death sentence.

Despite having a backup plan, Damien desired to inhabit Damon's body, deceive Mimi further, triumph over Damon, and ultimately obliterate him. They may be twins, but Damien would be the one left standing once he completed that session, revealing Damon's true wickedness to Mimi. He had the perfect plan to achieve this, to extinguish their love once and for all. No more love between them, as Damien's cunning manipulation would ensure Mimi's love would be lost forever. 

And the 14 weeks that those two had worked together he had gained power, he had slowly but surely gotten himself stronger and the time would come when he would bust out, capture Mimi, and do cruel and raw shed sessions, not now 26 weeks but as fast as he could he would obliterate her fitness, weaken her almost dead and then he would be strong enough to kill Damon. it would mean that Damon would most likely feel him to be a separate part, but it would be too late for that. This had to work as he would not have any more hiding place where to retreat to hiding when he would come out fully. 

As I made my way to a grand Pennsylvania mansion, I stopped at a gas station to grab a slurry, a steaming cup of coffee, and a couple of filled bagels. It was then that I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Hello, Baby," Damon greeted me, his voice sending shivers down my spine. Suddenly, his arms enveloped me, trapping mine against my sides, and before I knew it, I felt a sharp prick in my neck. The distinct odor of wet dog filled the air, and as darkness engulfed me, Damon whispered, "Sleepy time, Baby..."

When I regained consciousness, I found myself tightly bound to a table. Another shed session, I thought to myself, that we were in a shed this time and not some eerie castle. Damon seemed on edge, pacing around and muttering to himself, his words indistinguishable. Desperate to escape, I tried to pull away, only to see Damon's smile widen in amusement.

"Welcome back, Baby," he sneered. "Let's skip the foreplay this time. This device is quite remarkable. You can control the extent of the damage inflicted. It's a blend of my design and medical facilities, like Sark's."

Damon turned his attention to a screen, rapidly typing commands. "Let's start with 40% permanent damage to your liver, pancreas, heart, and intestines. Then, 35% impairment to your skeletal system. We'll add a 20% loss of muscle strength, and for my personal amusement, a 50% reduction in your immune defense."

He noted it all down, seemingly pleased. I still had my clothes on, a minor comfort amidst the impending torment.

"Don't worry," Damon reassured me, his voice chillingly calm. "You won't feel a thing when the tiny fibers in the wounds do their job. They just add up a bit of possibility of infection."

With that, he activated the machine. I felt something burrow into my liver, tearing it apart relentlessly with its minuscule teeth. My pancreas and heart suffered bruises and cuts, causing waves of pain to radiate through my body. The machine, with its eerie humming, seemed to target my heart, as if hammers were relentlessly beating against it using some form of ultrasound. Inside my intestines, a device equipped with small rollers cut a hole and began grinding the walls, causing excruciating cramping and tearing sensations.

Damon continued to explain the process in his collected tone, his words falling on deaf ears as my focus was consumed by the burning agony in my bones. They had been drilled, and a bone-soaking liquid was poured into the openings, only to be sucked out moments later as the machine measured the regeneration process. The cycle repeated, amplifying the searing pain in my bones.

I couldn't discern whether the burning ache in my bones was more unbearable than the deep, cramping torment in my intestines, or if the cutting, throbbing agony in my liver surpassed them all, or perhaps my suffering was simply a blend of all three.

My muscles were repeatedly injected with a mysterious substance, causing them to ache and strain. The relentless machine punctually shredded my muscles, tearing them apart. There was no respite from its relentless torment.

Damon, observing our progress on the monitors, would occasionally leave to grab a quick bite, his footsteps echoing in the shed. He paced back and forth like a restless panther, muttering to himself in a frenzy.

The scent of passionfruit hung in the air, fleeting yet distinct. In brief moments, he would pause, his brows furrowed as if reconsidering his actions. But then the stench of wet dogs would overwhelm the space, clouding my thoughts with pain. He would regain control, resuming his relentless harassment. 

The machine shifted its approach, now employing enzymatic destruction. Digestive fluids were injected into my gut, and the machine rolled over me, causing excruciating pain. The torment persisted unabated. Finally, after two agonizing weeks, the machine came to a halt, leaving my liver and the rest of my body 40% destroyed.

Damon's satisfaction was evident. He moved me to another table, securing elastic circles with knuckles to my ankles. My feet were attached to the ankle restraints, and Damon twisted them into sharp, multi-pronged studs that tore at my already wounded skin. The doughnuts ascended, twisting slightly, causing the skin on my legs to split wide open.

My hands were bound tightly to my sides, but to my surprise, I discovered they were free from elbows. Damon swiftly rectified this, fitting them with their own doughnuts that mercilessly grated and shredded the skin, muscles, nerves, and even the blood vessels. Blood flowed freely, and whenever a doughnut reached a bleeding spot, it sent a jolt of electricity, sealing the vein shut.

Damon rendered me voiceless, my vocal cords paralyzed, ensuring I couldn't scream or make a sound. He then connected a central line to a menacing machine. With precision, he inserted a tube directly into my aorta. "Behold, my baby, this is a reverse dialysis contraption. Instead of purifying your blood, it will taint it, placing an immense strain on your already damaged liver and relentlessly assaulting your kidneys."

I watched in horror as the machine extracted my blood, returning it to my heart in a dark and filthy state. "Oh, my baby, this apparatus also infuses your blood with easily absorbed forms of Iridium, Vanadium, Cobalt, Rhodium, Copper, Platinum, and Silver."

Panic consumed me, I was utterly doomed. Damon then maneuvered a sinister device between my legs, and I felt the sharp blades and merciless rollers tear into my most intimate parts, ravaging both my pussy and my ass.

"See, baby, this will prevent Charles and Adam from fucking you again in shape when there is nothing left to violate!" Damon's voice was filled with triumph.

Once the dialysis machine had thoroughly contaminated my blood and saturated it with enough metals, Damon removed the restraints from my limbs, revealing the raw, exposed flesh torn to the bone in some places. He flipped me over onto my stomach and tightly bound me to another table.

With a press of a button, a full-body stabber mercilessly pounded into my abdomen and thighs, reaching up to my ribs. He affixed a device to my back, and the heavy rollers began their relentless journey along my spine, applying increasing pressure until each vertebra snapped, followed by my ribs.

The device continued to intensify the force on my back, flattening me until my ribs cracked once more. The excruciating power of the stabber tore at my insides as if my very being was being torn apart. Then, without respite, he turned me over onto my back, allowing me a moment to recover before subjecting me to the same torment all over again. Now lying on my back in the machine, the relentless stabber assaulted my spine, while the unrelenting pressure of the heavy rollers crushed my hips and chest.

The metallic taste filled my mouth as the treatment took effect, causing my body to tremble uncontrollably. A deep ache pulsed through my infected wounds, tearing at my already fragile state. The device had ruthlessly shattered my spine and chest multiple times, leaving me a mere shell of my former self. The pain was numbed by the destruction of my tissues, which now lay lifeless and unresponsive.

Damon approached me, pleasure etched on his face. "Looks like we've got an infection. How long until sepsis sets in? Maybe four weeks? You won't survive for the full 26 weeks now." He carefully wrapped me in aconitum and silver-soaked bandages, salvaging what little tissue remained.

He leaned in close, his voice dripping with a sickening sweetness, as he said to me, "Baby, can't you see? This is our delicate balance, a mixture of honey and vinegar. I was a good husband, working side by side with you for 14 long weeks, providing you with sweetness while enduring my own share of bitterness. I may not be a secret agent, but now it's my turn to taste the honey and let you experience the vinegar. It's all about balance, you know."

A shiver ran down my spine as he continued, "Those explosive gigs we had were thrilling, I won't deny that. But this, this is something I crave, something I need. And the more pain and agony you experience without our bond, the more honey it pours into my soul. Oh, how I relish in your distress, your pain, your vulnerability. This bond is perfect for that."

Silence filled the air as his words hung heavy. Something inside me shattered, irreparably. The once cherished memories of our time together, filled with warmth and passion, now seemed tainted and devoid of their former power. The realization that every moment of happiness would come at a price, that it would never be genuine, extinguished any remaining love I had for him. 

Days passed, each one bringing me closer to the edge. Damon dutifully changed the wrappings, his anxious mutterings growing louder as he paced back and forth. The scent of passionfruit mingled with the damp odor of a wet dog, disorienting my already delirious mind. It appeared Damon derived pleasure from causing me as much harm as possible, as if he were driven by an uncontrollable urge.

And then he returned. "The fever has subsided, Baby. Now we're facing sepsis again, but I won't end your life. I'll bring you back from the brink. Whether Charles and Adam can keep you alive is their problem now. I'll leave you in a secluded place, perhaps a sprawling Pennsylvania mansion. Somewhere like the third bedroom on the 7th floor. Do you think they'll find you in time?"

Damon carefully unwrapped the blood-soaked wrappings, the metallic scent of iron filling the air. He meticulously flushed away the remnants of blood and tissue from my skin, causing an icy shiver to run down my spine. I knew this would sap my strength, but I was determined to scream or make sure they found me in time.

Next, Damon took a jar of sedative jelly, the cool gel gliding over my legs as he spread it with a gentle touch. Instantly, the jelly took effect, causing my limbs to grow heavy and weak. He swiftly bandaged my legs, the coolness of the jelly seeping through the fabric, numbing my skin. With his arms and legs wrapped around me, he secured me up to my neck, imprisoning me in his embrace.

"See, Baby, it's easier now. You can just let go," Damon murmured, his voice laced with disturbing tenderness. "As I said, you will be alive when I take you, but..." He left the sentence unfinished, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. 

Carrying me to the car, Damon drove us through the city, the distant sounds of traffic and sirens blending into a cacophony of urban life. We arrived at a house in Chicago, and he led me to the attic, its musty smell mingling with the scent of the sedative jelly. Pouring more jelly onto the bandages, he ensured its full effect, causing my eyelids to droop heavily.

"Go to sleep, good girl," Damon whispered, his touch on my hair sending a shiver down my spine.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, the weight of exhaustion pulling me towards slumber. He sat on the floor, holding me tenderly, his touch both creepy and chilling. Eventually, he rose and switched off the lights, leaving me in darkness.

Before leaving, Damon left a cryptic message for Charles. "Mimi is where her and Adam's journey together began."

The words hung in the air, leaving a sense of foreboding. I felt a surge of disillusionment towards Damon, realizing that the man I had once loved was now a stranger. The Damon I fell in love with had long vanished, replaced by a twisted version consumed by his desires. I let go of any remnants of love I had for him, understanding that our connection was no longer genuine. Love died, our bond turning black, almost lifeless. 

This realization marked a significant turning point in my life, shattering something inside me. Despite Damon still being by my side, I could sense his divided attention. His true love lies elsewhere. What we had become was beyond human comprehension, forged through unimaginable trials and suffering. After everything we had endured, I remained steadfast, my love for Damon unchanged, but forever altered.

Charles was swearing, Mimi was in Chicago and he was on the other side of America. He informed Adam what had rushed into the Chicago house. Adam stomped straight to his office and opened the computer. He took a quick look at the security tapes and dashed to the attic.

A figure wrapped in white wrappings lay still. Adam turned on the lights and the wrap moved. Mimi was alive. Fine, 15 straps, let's start there. Adam gently lifted Mimi into his arms and carried her downstairs as fast as he could.

"Phone, call Samuel," Adam gave a voice command.

Soon, Samuel's voice answered, "What?"

"Mimi has had another shed session. Mimi is alive with 15 straps. We are in Chicago." Adam quickly listed off.

Samuel asked a few more questions, went to grab Mimo's hide and Mimosa and a briefcase full of Mimi's dental materials, and left to drive. Half an hour never felt so long, Samuel thought as he pulled into the driveway. He rushed out of the car and downstairs.

I was exhausted, yearning to drift off into a deep slumber, but Adam refused to let me rest. From the moment Adam carried me to the medbay, his silence spoke volumes. He moved swiftly, his actions precise and gentle. I could feel the cool touch of the cannulas as he inserted them, and the steady drip of multiple bags.

With each procedure, Adam would inform me of what he was doing. Sometimes, he would replace the drip bag, while other times, his hands would tenderly touch me, assuring me that we would address those matters later, as they were not a priority. As he finished unwrapping the bandages, I relaxed in the soothing warmth of the water, while he carefully rinsed my skin.

"Now, whatever has been absorbed is beyond our control," he explained. "But let's prevent any further absorption."

I questioned, "Shouldn't I be asleep?"

Adam reassured me, "You'll get there. Just keep talking to me."

Adam maintained a stoic expression as he gently cleansed Mimi's injured crotch. The sight was gruesome, a bloody mess that transformed into a gaping cavity after thorough rinsing. The stench of blood lingered in the air, assaulting Adam's nostrils. Salvatore had always despised that particular aspect, Adam mused silently. Meanwhile, his instincts as a wolf alerted him to Samuel's hidden unease, despite his outward composure.

"What's the situation?" Samuel inquired, approaching Adam, who had just finished tending to Mimi's wounds.

"Fifteen straps, exhausted," Adam replied, his voice betraying a hint of weariness. "She was swathed in bandages soaked in tranquilizers. I've cleaned off as much as possible."

"Change the water," Samuel instructed, handing Adam an adrenaline shot. "Prepare fresh, warm water, then join me inside. We need to discuss further."

Following Samuel's orders, Adam swiftly complied, his hands trembling slightly from the weight of the situation.

When Adam put the adrenaline in my IV, I thought, so unfair. Then, the men went into the other room. I lay in a warm bath, exhausted and aching. Every limb of mine was hurting where there was still tissue left alive and left over. My ribs were hurting, and I had an overwhelming urge to breathe, but my lungs were punctured, and my ribs were crushed.

The fatigue was overwhelming, and the adrenaline was counteracting the sedation, but I felt every metal burn, ache, and wondering in my mind, "When will I get some sleep? Probably when I no longer hurt, when I have to suffer this pain."

Samuel listened quietly as Adam told him everything. He mentally listed the damage and took the briefcase. There was a new substance from Mimosa. The substance was pink and glowing. Mimosa said that the substance would be perfected as the future progressed, but this substance should give Straps. Now Mimo wasn't at all sure of its effectiveness on Mimi, but it was worth a try. The Mimosa hide was also fully loaded. They went to Mimi.

Samuel asked, "Does it hurt where?"

I said, "I don't know where not to hurt. You'd think my nerves would have taken enough hits, but no, the answer is everywhere."

Samuel nodded. First, he hung a couple of decilitre bags of something pink and connected it to my cannula full.

He put the other stuff on a smaller scale so that this stuff would drain quickly. Within 15 minutes, the stuff had drained and taken away the worst of my exhaustion.

Samuel said to Adam, " It gives us 50 straps."

" Wow, the stuff that gives you straps!" I thought.

Fifty straps are much better than 15. Then Samuel put the other agents back in while Adam was already stocking the incubator. My skin was broken; well what wasn't? It hurt everywhere. But at least I had 50 straps.

They took me out of the bath and put another drug in the drip. When they wrapped me up, it relieved the pain, and I was so tired I couldn't fight and went to sleep.

Samuel got some gel wraps from the cupboard in his packets and opened them. They would wrap Mimi in these, put her in the incubator for a week or two to sleep, and then check on her. They gently removed Mimi from the bath and lifted her onto the gel pad.

Then they wrapped her up everywhere. Samuel equipped a strong anesthetic bag even as they lifted Mimi out of the bath and put it on the drip, and by the time they had finished wrapping, Mimi was already fast asleep but holding her straps. They lifted Mimi into the incubator and closed the lid. Now it was just a matter of waiting.