I entered the torture chamber, gazing at my victims while casually sipping my coffee. The pack members, Wulfe and Damon, were methodically working on the Krychecks, inflicting as much pain, terror, and fear as they possibly could. Mariella was in the kitchen preparing more sandwiches and food. She could be unsettling at times, but I could see that she didn't possess this particular side of darkness like I did.
This wasn't entirely my darkness, but rather a part of me that had learned how enjoyable it is to witness those who have hurt you suffer. It was my way of seeking revenge, cruelly. My darkness was present as well, but it remained contained, where Wulfe had pushed it, not allowing it to escape. Oh, if it were unleashed, I wouldn't share it with anyone. Each of these victims would belong solely to me.
This underground bunker was one of my domains, and it was quite spacious. These torture victims weren't the only ones I had here. As I mentioned before, I had an issue with my bloodlust, so I had acquired some guests to provide me with fresh, strong blood. In a different section of the bunker, they were hooked up to collection machines, and being drained. I reveled in the delicious and potent fresh blood I could obtain whenever I desired. And there was one particular treat that I kept hidden, as my vampire side preferred not to share its meals.
I once again prepared one of my substances, filling a syringe and drawing about 130 ml of it with a spinal needle. It was important to have a substantial amount in the spinal canal. Although my substance might not directly affect the victim through the spinal canal, injecting a large volume there would undoubtedly cause intense pain. The maximum recommended amount was 60 ml, but I planned to administer twice that, ensuring that my victim, Julian Sark, wouldn't succumb to pain shock just yet. There was still some fight left in them.
I went to visit one of the Sarks who was securely strapped to a frame, standing upright. As a scientist, I knew he would understand my intentions when I showed him my syringe and needle.
I told him, "Now it's my turn to do a little experimenting. I hope you're ready."
Walking behind him, I located a specific point and swiftly inserted the needle. Because of the absence of local anesthesia, he twisted in discomfort. I enjoyed hearing his pained grunt. I began depressing the plunger, releasing about 10 ml of the substance into his spinal cord. Once I removed the needle, I placed the syringe on the table next to him and went to the kitchen to get a sandwich.
Returning and enjoying my meal, Wulfe approached me and took a bite of my sandwich. Sark, who I was torturing, remarked, "It's good to see that damn teen is important to you. It makes him a better victim."
I clinically glanced at the Sark and replied, "I presume there was no effect. But don't worry, we will soon continue. The pressure will be felt soon enough. I have time, although I'm unsure how much time you have."
Wulfe asked me, "What are you doing to this shithead, unicorn?"
I showed him the syringe and explained, "I'm testing one of my substances. I injected it into his spinal canal. One can inject a maximum of about 60 ml, but I have 130 ml. Well, 120 ml now, as I already injected 10 ml. I'm just waiting to see if there's any effect."
Wulfe focused and remarked, "He has a headache and blurry vision. He's trying not to show it. He hopes you kill him."
Shaking my head, I addressed the Sark, "You see, you're being monitored. I can see your pulse, respiration, and other vital signs quite clearly. So don't worry, this won't be what kills you. Maybe not fast anyhow."
Wulfe observed my expression as I finished my sandwich, took the syringe, and walked behind the Sark. Wulfe walked alongside me.
I instructed him, "Here, feel this space between the vertebrae. This is where you should aim. Just punch it through. You feel this pop when you hit the sweet spot. Also victim tends to yelp or twitch, as I don't use any local anesthesia, so this feels like an electric shock."
Wulfe jokingly said, "Is this one of your medical school lessons? See one, do one, teach one?"
I responded, "Maybe. I am teaching you, and you are here seeing this. Next up is for you to do this for yourself. But I suppose you can also partake in torture."
He watched as I inserted the needle, and his cruel smile revealed that he had sensed the excruciating pain.
I hadn't yet depressed the plunger when Wulfe said to me, "Let me do it. I want to."
I cautioned him, "Take it easy. Don't administer too much at once."
He nodded and replied, "Alright, we want this one to stay alive for a while."
He pushed the plunger and wiggled the needle, causing the Sark to groan in agony. Another ten cc were injected before he removed the needle and kept it with him as he sauntered over to Krycheck, discovering a new method of inflicting pain.
I reached for another knife from my shelf, a sharp, long, and nasty-looking one. I made my way to where Wulfe had Salvatores working on Krychecks, and Magnum was assisting Adam, Charles, and Mariella with another Sark.
As I approached One Sark, memories from a long time ago resurfaced in my mind. Although it had been dealt with and the rot had been removed, it still remained one of my worst experiences. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a new rot or something else that needed to be addressed. It was time to seek retribution.
I felt my darkness becoming more aware as I stared at Sark and said, "Ah, this brings back memories, doesn't it? Let's see if I can execute this better than you did back in the day."
With a swift slash, I inflicted a superficial wound on him. He recognized what I was doing, as he had once tortured my friends to death this way, right in front of me.
He gasped and looked into my eyes, uttering, "My god, you are a monster. Not an animal, but a true monster."
I met his gaze and replied, "Well, a monster recognizes another monster, right?"
I slashed him again, keeping the memories at the forefront of my mind but concealing them from Wulfe and Damons, who were engrossed in their work with Krychecks. Sark remained silent, observing the lack of mercy in my expression.
Casually, I circled around him and taunted, "You know, I may not have here feardemons, but I could always have one of Salvatores project some fear and terror into your mind, or I can do it myself."
Releasing a particular pheromone, I noticed Sark's pulse quickening and his breathing becoming more rapid. He was reacting exactly as I had planned.
I continued, "Do you feel like prey? Well, that's just my shifter side's pheromone triggering your response, the presence of a predator. Tell me, what does it feel like? Do you feel the urge to run away and hide?"
Another slash and he gasped in pain. I was enjoying and let it show. Full on. Lepard approached, his eyes meeting mine as I inflicted the wounds. He understood the purpose behind my actions, being a telepath himself. I could feel his presence in my mind, accessing a place he shouldn't have access to, witnessing the memory once again. Lepard experienced the entire memory, feeling my pain and understanding the significance of Burt and what Sark had done to him.
Standing beside me in that memory, he whispered, "My love, this rot needs to be removed once and for all. Wulfe will assist us, but I understand your desire to make him suffer, I will help you to instill fear and terror in him."
I nodded, trying my best to push that damn memory out of my mind. Lepard walked over to Sark and placed his hands on his temples, causing Sark's pulse to quicken and his breathing to become faster. Lepard extended one of his claws, partially morphing his finger into a feline toe, and slashed at Sark, causing him to whimper.
Mariella raised her head upon hearing the sound, furrowing her brows as she looked at us. She began talking to Magnum, who was enjoying torturing Krycheck.
Mariella said to Magnum, "I think Mimi is somewhere in a dark place and I'm not sure why. But I do recognize what she is going through. Even though we removed the memory rot, it seems to still affect her. Lepard is quite upset as well."
Wulfe raised his head, glanced at Mimi, and let out a sigh. "The memory has been rotting again. We need to remove it from its hidden place. We also have to clear the cache, leaving only very faded and insignificant recollections behind. I can sense that she is in a very dark place right now. Very dark."
Damon spoke up, saying, "Well, I will help her. She needs someone to support her."
Wulfe remained silent for a moment and then said, "I'm not sure what is best for her and for the pack. Should she have her revenge once? But then again, will it make her see herself as a monster even more? It's a tough situation."
Damon replied, "I don't sense the memory. How can you sense it if it's not in her conscious mind?"
Wulfe explained, "She protects you and doesn't let you everywhere. Lepard is stronger and more cunning, so he slipped in. I honed in on him, allowing me access. It's not a pleasant place, but I can give you access as well."
Damon nodded, feeling Wulfe pulling him into a specific place in Mimi's mind. It was dark and oppressive, filled with all the terrible things she had endured. Some of it he recognized, but not all. It was like a massive warehouse filled with memories, piled up and suppressed. He could see this one memory being active in a particular area. Burt, being tortured to death, Mimi entrapped to that stand, in pain. He sensed Lepard walking in Mimi's mind, checking memories he was not supposed to. He was too curious, truly his son.
I slashed again, this time on Sark's back, causing him to gasp. Sark was still scared, and I noticed Wulfe looking at me, as well as several Salvatores. I could feel them in my mind, and I was fine with it. Let them see the real me, my struggles, and my monster side.
I whispered into Sark's ear, "Tell me, Julian, what does it feel like to know how this will end?"
He remained silent, not uttering a word.
Then, Sark said to me, "It ends the pain. That's all. We will continue to exist, but this version stops feeling pain. Nothing more, nothing less."
I looked at him and said, "Oh, but it's not that easy. I've learned that the rest of you won't get memories of those who die. Only the newcomers get them. So, there are many sarks out there who are blissfully unaware of so many things. They have no idea what I've done here, and it's quite a task to educate others for those sarks who come after you've killed. You see, I was a hive queen, a rare form of vampire. It gave me insight into your collective of sarks."
Sark spat at me. "We are your mortal enemy, yet you treat us like pests in a garden."
Wulfe walked closer to this Sark and said, "That's because you are pests in our garden. Nothing more than irritating bugs."
I approached my victim, took out my knife, and Magnum walked over too.
He looked at me and said, "Hummingbird, you are in a dark place. I'm not sure if this helps."
I replied, "I'm not in that dark place. This is just a side of me that you rarely witness. And yes, it helps."
I slashed him again, but only superficially. Blood welled out, and Sark whimpered. I could smell his fear. It made this so perfect. I glanced at the monitor. Not yet. He still had quite a lot left in him, to my surprise.
Adam stepped closer and said to me, taking the knife, "Let me. I want to avenge Burt. I want to show this bastard what it felt like for him to be killed at that time."
Damon came closer to me, took my arm, and led me to the tiny kitchen. He sat me at the table, made a few peanut butter and jam sandwiches, grabbed a few cans of Coke, and made me eat.
I told him, "No need to coddle me. I can take it. I've earned my right to do this to him."
Damon replied, "We are a pack, and you're not the only one with a grudge against Sarks. Adam has been through it all. He has a right. Now eat."
He was asserting his role as the pack leader once again. But I understood his point of view. Adam had been there all along.
I said to him, "As you can see, I'm a monster, far worse than you. You can torture for a reason, but I do it because I want them to suffer. I don't give a damn about information or anything else. Only their pain, distress, and fear."
Wulfe entered the kitchen and said, "You're a vampire, so it's normal. We've found your dark place, and it will be cleared at some point. It will ease up, but you'll need some serious unloading in the gym, unicorn. Do you realize that?"
I shook my head and replied, "No need. I don't have those kinds of problems. Besides, this helps me. It's my therapy for relieving stress, you know."
Wulfe sighed and said, "Torturing Sarks won't solve everything. It might even make you feel more like a monster. There must be a better way. But don't worry, we'll always be there for you."
I responded to Wulfe, "I don't just feel like a monster, I know that I am one. It's a fact. I'm not an innocent little Mimi saving everyone. Maybe, just maybe, Harrison saw through me. Perhaps I only save those who I believe are worth saving. If I were a real savior, there wouldn't be any criteria for who gets saved and who doesn't, right?"
Mariella walked in and said, "Harrison was wrong. Even I, who has a radar for saving, have criteria for who gets saved and who doesn't. It's just how things are done. And as for being a monster, I'm not sure if there's anyone in the world who doesn't have a monster side. Even nuns have one. What you see as your monster side, I see as a creature of justice. A brave creature who seeks vengeance and shows her enemies what happens when they cross her."
It was difficult for me to let go of the notion that I was a monster. Throughout most of my life, I had seen myself as one, regardless of what others said. So I didn't say anything, allowing them to have their high opinions of me. I knew very well that they had placed expectations on me that were nearly impossible to fulfill. But that was fine. I could pretend to be a noble heroine or savior, let my dark side recede once again, and maybe next time, not call anyone to witness my stress relief.
I mean, we were in an underground bunker, torturing our enemies. There were no windows, making it feel almost claustrophobic. The air was filled with the scent of blood, pain, fear, steel, ozone, our pheromones, and even arousal. I wondered if any of us in our pack were truly sane. We were a pack of monsters, and that was the reason they saw me as normal.
Or maybe they were just trying to prevent me from completely unraveling. I couldn't be sure why they insisted I wasn't a monster, or what they thought I was instead. Perhaps I wanted to be a monster more than a victim. Maybe I had had enough of being a victim, of being weak, in my life.
After eating those sandwiches and drinking my soda, I sat there for a while, lost in thought. I was wearing bloody scrubs, having spent hours, a whole day, torturing just for fun. But why? Because I wanted to. I had become the very thing I once swore to fight against. Maybe my sense of righteousness allowed me to justify this.
I had no idea if it served any purpose or if I truly was a monster. The question of whether this was the right thing to do or not depended on who you asked. Sark's victims would praise us, and there were so many victims, thousands. But then again, Sark was technically human, while I was not. What did that make me?
I shook my head, rising to my feet. I placed my mug in the sink and made my way back to our chamber. The atmosphere was quiet, a result of the recent slaughter. Wulfe was covered in blood, and both Krychecks were torn apart. Damon was also bloody. Adam stood with a knife in hand as he held Sarks' head back and slit his throat. It felt justified, even though there may have been a part of me that was angry when they killed all the victims.
However, my time as the hive queen taught me to share, and I could sense their need to do this as well. I wondered if this would become a regular occurrence for our pack or just a one-time thing. I had no plans to think ahead, preferring to act if the need ever arose.
Damon looked at me and said, "Well, they are done for now. How about, baby, if you let us explore this place? It could be useful for the pack, not just as your torture chamber. It's quite spacious, with lots of potential."
I replied, keeping my expression neutral and my secret hidden, "It is indeed a large space, but I'm not sure if you would want to live underground when we have better places to reside. Of course, you can have a look around. I haven't done much with this place yet."
It was time to let the pack see my bunker and realize that while it may be useful; it wasn't a place they would want to call home. I had no intention of revealing my personal blood stash and donors just yet. Each passing hour meant more delicious blood for me.