I sat across Mariella, my torture continuing unabated. Her legs, almost blackish, showed how my clamps had severely cut off her circulation. My neuron growth hormone had taken effect, and she moaned in pain as shocks coursed through her, coupled with the agonizing sensation of her overgrown nerves. Her skin turned red, a reaction to my concoction spreading across her back, causing blisters to form. I felt no mercy.
While I had a plan for the entire pack, my issues with Mariella dated back a long time. This torment, however twisted and dark, provided a sense of catharsis, transforming her into a pitiful, whimpering mess of pain and confusion.
My voice broke the silence again, "It was easy for you to make me the Ice Queen, ever since you first saw me. Now, you'll meet some men I never spoke to any of you about too much, as they were also special. So, not all my memories are awful, but since my feelings are tied to them, you'll surely miss them too."
This would be harder than recalling times of torture, for I truly loved these men, and I had caused their deaths.
I would miss them every single day. "Kevin Sanders was almost as good a sniper as Murdock, and he was just as merciless when it came to me. But he was also a karateka and a fighter. He worked me over in the gym, taught me new moves, and assessed what I could do and what was physically impossible for me, despite my supernatural abilities. And since he usually gave me a set of moves, the next stop would be Magnum, who would hone them into top form. It was one spring when I was at a base in Georgia, and Kevin was there. I had just returned from my rounds, meaning I had completed back-to-back missions. Damon was out with others, while Adam, Samuel, and Colin were chasing infections. Even Bran had called me, telling me not to bother coming to disturb them, as they needed to be with real women. Kevin was tall, almost as tall as Will is. He looked a bit like a mix of Jack Nicholson and Kevin Bacon, and then that mix crossed with Michael Keaton. He was married, and his wife was strict and religious, and Kevin was not."
I smiled slightly, remembering how he spoke. Lazily at first, as if he were contemplating, but once he got going, he spoke more and more rapidly. You could tell when he was happy, as he would talk so fast.
"I was sitting behind my desk when Kevin walked in. Sure, Jake, Magnum, or Rob might come in, too, but they were not the only ones. He plopped onto the sofa and said to me, "You know, Mimi, for me, the biggest wrong in this universe is how it treats you. I mean, you should have love, a husband, in your life, and I must admit that if I were not married, and you were not married to the strongest vampire around, I would snatch you." I smiled and said, "Well, you never know about Damon. He might just divorce me, but I think that Janet is not gonna let you go. It is sweet you think of me, but for the sake of honesty, I am not a goddess."
I recalled this so vividly, and it made an ache in my heart a bit worse, but I was here once again taking the hit for my pack, despite the fact that they might not see it that way.
My story went on, "Kevin said, "Nope, you are about as imperfect a woman as one can be, but you know, that's it. You are so freaking special. You should really have someone who would appreciate you." He was truly head over heels with me, and it helped. I mean, sure, I was a woman, and honest flattery from time to time helps so freaking much, and having to listen to Damon fucking right about everyone else but me- this was what I needed."
My tone was kind of quiet. Mariella wailed out loud as pain hit her, but she sobbed as she, too, was starting to feel Kevin. Or my memory of Kevin, and my little tricks, made her miss him, too.
I kept my voice soft as I spoke, "Kevin was there for a few hours, just watching me work, and he got food for me, as well as coffee. His confession never changed things between us. I felt for him, yet we never fucked, not even kissed, not really. I lost him in one gig to Krycheck. Krycheck shot him from behind, and the bullet was too big, again explosive, tearing his aorta into shreds. Since there were fear demons, I needed to get hell away as fast. I pressed my lips once to his after he had died. And he had taken that damn bullet for me, knowing very well it was going to be lethal, but for him, I was more important than an old jockey from Missouri; he had been a pretty good jockey in his younger years. However, the strictness of that life, particularly the constant need to maintain a low weight, proved too difficult. Consequently, he changed paths and entered the world of fleas after his cousin was snatched. He spent over fifty years in that life, being one of the first involved. Sadly, I was also indirectly responsible for his death."
I tilted my head as I watched Mariella, my memories unfolding in her mind, making her feel so much more than she could ever imagine. Loss, longing, regret- time for her shielded princess life was truly coming to an end.
"When I visited his family, his wife accused me, stating that I was destined for hell and that Satan would claim me, as my soul was too corrupted. She insisted I would never know love. In retrospect, her words held a chilling truth, as it was less than fifteen months after I first met Reyes Farrow that she spoke them." My voice was dark, yet tinged with regret, for I had also tried to save Reyes.
I recall visiting him in my castle several times over those seven years, attempting to connect and converse. But he remained cold, uncaring, and seemingly soulless.
Rising, I walked behind Mariella, whispering so the men couldn't overhear, "Did you know this is a two-way mirror? They can see us, but... surprise, there's a little spell woven in. It enhances your appearance by about thirty percent. The men might be quite shocked when they see your true condition." She tensed, trying to speak, but her mind was too deeply messed up as shit.
I strolled lazily, now picking up a cotton bud and soaking it in an orange substance I had concocted. Moving behind Mariella, I dabbed the bud to her cheeks, nose, lips, and forehead. She whimpered.
"Feels cold, doesn't it?" I asked in a languid, dangerous tone. "This little concoction of mine tricks your cells into thinking they're freezing, even though they aren't being harmed. Funny, your brother-in-law gave me the idea for this type of torture. But then again, not all inspiration is good or righteous. Now, let me tell you another story, so you can truly understand me. This, too, is about loss, my feelings, and so forth."
I walked back to my seat. This room reeked of Mariella's pain, her confusion, her distress, but it meant nothing to me. It was what I was aiming for: to get really good pheromonal soaking in this whole space. Once men got in, those pheromones would hit them like a freight train, igniting the need to care, love, and be with Mariella. I crossed my legs again, steepled my fingers, and started to push another nasty memory from my mind.
I had given these to Mariella, and once I started to tell them, those memories would turn almost like she was living them. "This happened while Jake was still alive, and it was what I think were always our golden years. As most of my core group was still alive, I had my drive, and Damien had not yet worst for me. I have now realized that it too changed me, made me less empathetic, maybe hardened me, as I had to push through all the shit that comes when one's husband tortures you just for fun. Well, anyway. It was Ohio. We were at a smaller base, me, Jake, Rob, and Fred. Bert and Colin were there too." My voice was steady.
I kept my expression neutral and continued my story. "Tim had just been born, about five months earlier, and Jake was happy. He was talking about how he would teach him to become a flea one day. We were planning a hit on a facility up north. It was right on the border, but as it was still in Ohio, it was ours, and other bases were busy. So we had to come up with a plan. We knew there were victims, and it was a really nasty place, but we had no idea just how damn nasty."
My voice hardened. I took a breath, looking at Mariella, naked, pregnant, her skin splotchy, legs almost black from ankles down, chest misshapen as I had broken her ribs and she panted, dislocating those ribs, face smashed in, wearing my little torture cap, shaking, grunting but managing to lift her face, looking at me.
She said, "Continue. You need help."
Her voice was hoarse, broken, but there was still determination in it.
I just nodded. "We went in there. It was a big place, an old factory, typical. It had been a paper mill back in the day, then it had closed and dismantled, and then it was briefly a chemical factory, but it too went belly up, and now this. Jake, Rob, I, and eight others went in and started to go through the place. There was a mortuary, over 80 victims, mauled, tortured, killed. And then wards. One ward held about 50 people, and we could save less than 40%. Most were on life support with no hope, and they were kept alive as a living tissue factory. This was the first time Jake and Rob saw these horrors. I had surely seen them, and both of them were fuming, and they killed every guard that they saw, no mercy, and they did not even ask, and then worst..."
I swallowed, certain it had been nasty, but back then, I just took it all in and hid it away in my mind—I didn't dwell on it. Yet, Jake and Rob...
"The first ward was full of babies, newborns up to six months old, and it was not a nice place. These were hybrids with humans—half vampire, half wolf, or half fae—and they too were tortured. There was this tiny baby girl. Rob picked her up and shushed her as she fussed while I was busy setting charges. Then Rob came to me, demanding I do something—the baby had died in his arms. I tried to tell him there was nothing I could do. Jake had the same experience; he had tried to help one baby only to feel it die in his hands. There were over seventy-five babies."
My voice turned dark as I spoke. The marks on both sides of my neck felt unbearably hot and tingly, and I could almost feel their arms around me. But I continued my story.
"No baby was viable. Dash, who was still alive and a medic, checked them out. Most of them died once the machines were shut down, and he took care of the rest. It was too big a risk—they were infectious, like plague, smallpox, or rabies for supes, and Ebola for humans. Their plan had been to find strong enough hybrids, turn them into vectors, and give them up for adoption to supes—a kind of Trojan horse."
I could feel the horror emanating from the men. Mariella grunted, drool dripping from her mouth as my little electric cap hit her brain a bit more. But I felt no mercy.
I continued, "I know I never told anyone about my fleas or these mercy missions, but that mission—Jake, Rob, and Dash all had dirty hands, so to speak. The next ward held slightly older babies, but the situation was the same; no children or infants were saved. There were over 400 of them, and we killed them all. Jake cried for most of it, Rob was furious, and Dash swore he was finished with field operations. A few others vowed to eliminate every single enemy."
Mark on my right side felt so freaking hot, almost painful, itchy, my voice was level, detached.
"Jake approached one boy, who was four years old. According to his file, he was a shifter-human hybrid with blonde hair and blue eyes, but he was skinny, bald, and in pain. He tried to get up but lacked the strength. He had been irradiated and infected with a contagious cancer meant for superhumans. He whispered to Jake, 'Have you come to put me to sleep and not let me wake up? Please, I don't want to wake up.' Jake burst into tears, maintaining a neutral expression with wet eyes, unable to speak. He administered a full morphine drip and, once the boy was unconscious, took his gun and shot him. Afterward, Jake declared, "I'm done. I'll be outside waiting," and so we moved on."
Mariella was shaking, or perhaps convulsing; I wasn't sure if she was truly aware, but it would work regardless. I kept on talking, like this was nothing. For me, it had been just one more hit for my team to take. A lesson to be learned for sure.
"I remembered Rob's anger as we finished in there and the pain in Jake's eyes. Well, it was one of the first times I used my blood to erase pain. I gave both of them my blood, helping them forget most of it. Dash didn't want it; he could handle it, and Betty would assist him. But those two… It was the first time I realized how much I had to protect my team and ensure they didn't have to witness such things. Therefore, I never brought anyone along if I had an inkling that a place was that horrific."
Those memories still linger, a likely sea of rot, but my life hasn't been easy. I'm also protecting Wulfe and the Salvatores, but now they know. However, I doubt they'll have anything to do with me.
It seemed Mariella had reached her limit, and it was time to conclude this. Sure, it had been somewhat enjoyable and had served its purpose, but what can you do when the victim simply can't endure it any longer?
I walked over to Mariella and began unhooking my contraption from her.
I stated coolly, "Well, you could tolerate eighteen hours. One can never be sure if you'll build a tolerance over the years. As you can see, all the awful things you do accumulate within me, putting me in this foul mood. Then, when I get the chance to take it out on you, oh boy, I'm not in a gentle mood."
I looked at the mirror, letting my enjoyment show on my face.
"Pretty different than my little vampire tryst, huh?"
Mariella lifted her head, her breathing weak and her complexion pale. Bruised and still not healed, she was clearly in pain, both mentally and physically, and disoriented.
I then teleported her to one of the downstairs bedrooms, telling the others, "She's in a downstairs bedroom. Go find her; you have a bit of work on her."
I could feel Damon severing our bond, and the men began to leave. I slowly pushed my darker impulses aside, collecting my dental work and my gear before teleporting them back to their original locations.
It was time for me to live. With eight toddlers, eleven babies, and nine of us – I was quite sure all the men would be occupied with Mariella – we could manage this and even have some fun. It felt good to be, more or less, the pack leader again, no longer needing to constantly scheme to get things done my way.
As I shut down my crystals, it wasn't a surprise that my bond with Wulfe had also been severed. I could no longer feel his spells in my mind, nor any of the Salvatores'. I was free, and ironically, it was Wulfe who had once believed I should be free from men. It felt strange, but incredibly liberating. Yeah, shit happens, life happens, and one just has to move on.