4. Into The Night.

I woke up, my head pounding and disoriented, my surroundings a blur. Keeping my eyes shut, I tried to discern my location by scent alone. The air reeked of pain, despair, lust, blood, and the distinct odor of shifters and werewolves. It was overwhelming. I felt heavily drugged, unable to fully regain my senses before a sharp, searing pain shot through my shoulder. A tranquilizer dart.

The world faded away once more, leaving only fragments of memories. The stench of my own blood, the agony tearing through my abdomen, the desperate struggle to open my eyes and make sense of the situation. It took time to comprehend the horrifying truth - I was being raped. Bound to that wretched rack once again, stripped of my dignity, violated by someone in their wolf form. I feel their cock sinking into my pussy, in painfully as possible. I smelled my blood, sex, desperation. I heard someone else crying as well.

Another injection dulled my already hazy memory. I had lost count of how long I had endured this torment, how many times I had been subjected to the horrors of that accursed rack. I felt tainted, but the drugs were losing their grip on me. cock after another sinking into me, grunts, feeling their hot output in my belly, not sure what was said. Slowly, I was getting to the point of no return.

With great effort, I forced my eyes open, only to find myself imprisoned in a dimly lit cage. Naked and still reeking of sex and violation. I was feeling my darkness more. It was getting free from whatever prison Salvatores had put it into. It was slowly oozing in my mind like some kind of cloud. Nearby, I heard the rustling of movement, a second heartbeat. Someone else was trapped in this cage with me. I inhaled deeply, catching a surprisingly sharp scent of lime. Bran?

I groaned, shifting my body slightly, and Bran's voice reached my ears. "Little girl, you're awake?"

I managed to open my eyes, struggling to sit up. Bran sat in one corner, his body battered and covered in bruises and vampire bite marks. He looked like shit, to be honest. He was naked as well, tired looked, smelling of sex and dirt.

"Where the hell are we, and what has happened?" I demanded.

My voice was low, getting dangerous.

Bran sighed, his voice filled with weariness. "You've been here for at least three weeks. There are several ruthless alphas and vampire hags who have violated you. I'm sorry, I'm too weak to stop them. Those damn hags use me as a sex doll and blood bag. My weakened vampire side is fading, and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on."

As he spoke, I could sense my own vampire side awakening, growing stronger. The bloodlust simmered within me, threatening to consume all reason. The pack bonds were out of my reach, but it was time for me to take action. Before I could formulate a plan, the door swung open, and the sound of multiple footsteps approached.

Suddenly, searing white-hot pain coursed through me as I was shot with a taser, the sharp sting of several darts piercing my skin. My mind became a jumbled mess. I was once again dragged to the rack, restrained by several individuals, and subjected to more rapes. They were raping me over and over again. Drugs kept me less and less confused, and all of this fucking strengthened my darkness, causing it to ooze fully out, empowering me slowly.

Time after time, it happened, the slow awakening of my rage. With each moment of wakefulness, I witnessed Bran growing weaker, signaling that it was soon time for me to act. The drugs that had once numbed me were losing their effectiveness. Sick and tired of being violated, a burning desire for vengeance consumed me. My rage, all the wells were brimming, my darkness swirling in my mind, my mind consumed by my need to kill to feed as my vampire side was almost fully out.

I looked at him, my voice dripping with darkness, "I am about to unleash a darkness within me you cannot comprehend. It is necessary for us to escape this hell. This time, I will be the strong one."

Bran met my gaze, his voice defiant, "Do you truly believe, little girl, that your darkness can rival mine? I am no longer afraid of you. I have grown, one way or another."

I stared back at him and asked, "Can you distinguish friend from foe? If you can, it will expedite our mission. Not to attack me or go rampage afterward. "

Bran studied me. His weariness was apparent. "You have no idea what you're asking of me, but fine, I understand your logic. I can and will control myself, but my question is, what about you?"

I said nothing more, delving deep within myself to awaken my darkness, allowing it to feel the torment I had endured. I rose to my feet, unclothed, and approached the door. With a swift kick, it burst open. Bran stood beside me, observing my transformation, but I paid him no mind. I craved my victims, my fangs dripping with anticipation. My venoms were ready. 

As we emerged from the cellar, a vampire party was in full swing, a smorgasbord of sustenance for my insatiable hunger. My vampire side emerged, adorned in a delicate black lace dress, my black nails poisoned and deadly. I reveled in the thrill of the hunt. One or two slashes from my poison-laced nails paralyzed my prey, allowing me to sink my fangs into them, draining them until they turned to ash. My vampire pheromones called my victims to me. They did not want to escape.

The air was filled with the sounds of ripping flesh and agonized screams as Bran unleashed his own wrath upon the alphas who had caused such pain. But I was too ravenous to care, too consumed by my bloodlust. The taste of older than Damon's blood was an intoxicating boost to my vampire side as I drained them dry. Soon, the castle stood empty, the life force drained from its inhabitants. My darkness enjoyed lives to be taken, fear of my victims, just before they were dead. My perfect moment.

Bran's rampage extended to the girls who had suffered alongside me, their fate sealed by their own corruption. They were too violated, and it was a mercy for them to get out, or something. I really did not care at that point. He turned to me, his gaze meeting mine as my vampire side remained unleashed. I reveled in the darkness, savoring the night as I slowly made my way back to the nearest pack house. 

I was the predator of the night, and now everyone was my victim. I was not consumed by my rage, not fully, but by my darkness, and in this state, I wanted to hurt. Oh, how I wished to have a few Sarks to be tortured.

I arrived at the house just as the first rays of the sun began to paint the sky in hues of orange and pink. Exhaustion consumed me, my body aching from the unknown duration of my journey. I was determined not to seek solace in the presence of others, especially Bran, who seemed emotionally fragile. He would have some doing to pull himself back together. I headed towards the shower, the warm water cascading over my fatigued body, attempting to wash away the haunting memories of the assault, refusing to let those ghostly sensations resurface.

It was a time for strength, to rise above the role of a victim. I resisted the urge to call for Wulfe, not wanting to relinquish the power that my vampire nature had bestowed upon me. The intoxicating sense of invincibility caused me to momentarily forget my addiction to pheromones and the collar that confined me. I had endured a living hell and vowed that Salvatore would never hear of it.

Damon, on the other hand, felt disheartened as his plans for a perfect breeding time in their cherished Irish castle were unraveling. No woman seemed interested in caring for the offspring, rejecting the idea of motherhood. He yearned for this to be a flawless family affair, a testament to the life he envisioned without Mimi. Yet he couldn't comprehend why he harbored such intense anger towards her.

The overwhelming rage that embodied the Salvatore bloodline blinded him to the truth, making Mimi the perfect target for his fury, though he failed to realize it. He eagerly awaited the day he could subject her to withdrawal and confine her to a cage, a means to inflict suffering and teach her a lesson about his capabilities. This would leave Mimi disoriented, and powerless, and perhaps allow suppressed memories to resurface.

Mariella, consumed by her fluctuating hormones, was deeply troubled by Damon's relentless breeding endeavors. She despised being reduced to a mere puppy mill, but her collar and the flank organ gave Damon the upper hand, leaving her with limited options. She had entrusted the Salvatores with the care of the pups, managing to secure their place in the magic house. Now, she sought to entice Damon, the fourth in line, as her previous attempts with the first had left her feeling scorned by the breeder. However, even with her magical potion, this damn Salvatore adamantly refused to reciprocate her affections.

He went to cook rather than fuck her and it was almost an insult to her. Number two was feeling very volatile and Mariella was going to be involved with that one. She was restless, wanting someone to fuck, but not one of them who she tried was eager. So she had not much choice but that go to number one and then she took a breath. She smelled the air, Salvatore rage, and she did not know.

She stood there, contemplating the length of time this specimen had displayed his uncontrolled anger. Now, as Mimi found herself entangled, she couldn't help but worry about the potentially disastrous consequences. But first, she had to diffuse this ticking time bomb, before things would undoubtedly become difficult when she confronted him with the harsh truth.

With her knowledge of pheromone addiction, she knew this was not the path to take. Uncertainty lingered in her mind, as she had only read one book, and it contained nothing but grim news for Mimi. At least Mimi had a collar that might offer some protection, but Damon's misguided plan of using pheromones as a sweet seduction had failed miserably.

Mariella secretly reveled in this failure, as she desired the euphoric sensations for herself, not for Mimi. She cunningly enticed Damon into bed, a task that required great effort even though she was carrying their unborn cubs. The cubs, safely nestled away, could endure his wrath, but Damon cunningly nullified their existence, reducing them to mere cells, effectively erasing Mariella's pregnancy and allowing him to unleash his full fury upon her. Mariella goaded him on, aggravating him further.

It would likely take several weeks to complete their plan, during which Mariella instructed the wolves to ensure that Salvatore's rage didn't manifest in any other forms. If it did, they would attempt to suppress it as well.

Bran, once he regained control of himself, hurriedly retreated to one of his dilapidated houses. These aged dwellings had seen little renovation over the years. He knew Mimi would not be okay, but he needed to prioritize himself, reining in his own anger and darkness, and perhaps take a moment to rest before calling Samuel to examine him. When it came to Mimi, he was clueless about how to assist her. Was there anyone who could help?

He had thought his own darkness was consuming, but when that creature's aura brushed against him, fear gripped his heart. Yet, she wasn't evil. It was merely the accumulated pain and suffering she had endured that had birthed this darkness within her. Bran accepted his responsibility for that, acknowledging the monster and brutal rapist he had been to her for far too long. Bran struggled to find a solution, racking his brain for answers. Should he confide in Samuel? Could Samuel bring Mimi under control?

But he had witnessed her calm demeanor, her unwillingness to relinquish that power. One thing he knew for certain: Salvatore was not the solution. Perhaps Wulfe and Magnum held the key, but how could he contact them? Exhaustion weighed heavily on Bran's shoulders, prompting him to seek solace in a shower. Refreshed, he dressed in simple cotton pants and an old, worn-out tee shirt before retreating to his bed, yearning for sleep to claim him. He was way too tired to come up with answers; he felt his age. It was not always his job to come up with answers.

I changed into another house. Letting my darkness be out, helped me cope, to act, and I was no longer the victim. I was no longer a drugged-up, messed, raped creature, or beast to be controlled by electric shock collar sedative implant and pheromone addiction. I really did not feel like a woman.

I was a creature of the night, a predator, and soon I might go on the prowl as well. It was boring to drink from bags. It would be just perfect to drain my victim, slowly, and I would feel my meal perish. Now, this time there would not be spoilsport. To say to me, no, now I would get to have some serious fun.