Damon, Adam, and Samuel argued for a while. Damon confessed how he's shit and spends his time with his girlfriend, and prefers to drug his wife. Adam and Samuel yelled at him. Adam yelled how he didn't blame Mimi for making him feed her when he felt sorry for her the whole two weeks she vomited that vervain, but maybe Salvatore didn't feel such feelings as empathy.
Samuel shouted about how he had come home to find Mimi collapsed on the floor, and only after four bags of sugar had he brought her to consciousness when her blood sugar level was at least 1,5. Samuel screamed about how fucking irresponsible and delusional Salvatore was.
Adam added a minor fact about how Mimi actually has a bad bloodlust all the time and probably is drinking really potent blood at the moment because of her bloodlust-related rage.
Damon tried to explain that he wasn't going to Fiona anymore, but when she called, and he liked to torment and manipulate, well, they both accused Salvatore of being a liar. He then confessed that he wasn't going, but he was so pissed off at Mimi's ring judge.
When Samuel and Adam explain once again that Mimi doesn't cheat, he does. The facts became clear to Damon again, and Damon got himself sorted out again, but then Bran called again, and it was all for nothing. The men started discussing it amongst themselves and making up crazy stuff about Bran, and laughing amongst themselves.
The argument was quickly forgotten. Then Colin called and told him about the crisis, and the men cursed, saying they'd better let Mimi calm down and come back in a few days. Damon felt her rage burning through their bond.
What they didn't know was that Bran had created this crisis to get them away from Mimi because he had his own plan for her, and it wasn't a nice one. Not really, and none of the three had any idea when they went to see some new disease in werewolves that made everything unpredictable and dangerous. Doctors and strong alphas would be needed, so there would be work for all three of them.
I went to dinner, and no man was left in the house. I had heard them driving away half an hour earlier. Fine doesn't bother me. The next show wouldn't be possible for a few weeks, and then I'd have to study to be a doctor. After I had eaten, I went back to my reading.
I heard the door open and voices coming from inside. Bran and some strangers. Fine, I won't come out. Bran came over and opened my door. He must have had the key. He shot the Taser remotely before I could do anything. I felt my muscles spasm, pain, and electricity hit my brain. White-hot pain paralyzed me completely, and then darkness came.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself bound to a frigid metal chair, my naked skin exposed to the cold air. The harsh grip of barbed wire dug into my wrists, while the lingering jolt of the taser continued to resonate through my body.
My muscles felt weak and unresponsive, making it difficult to move. Struggling to focus my blurry vision, I surveyed the dimly lit room and noticed unfamiliar men. A sense of dread washed over me, as I instinctively knew that this situation would not end well.
As my eyes gradually adjusted, I made out the figure of Bran sitting across from me.
With a sinister smile, he greeted me, "Good morning. Quite an efficient taser, isn't it? Now, it's time for you, Mimi, to divulge your contacts and information. I possess potent drugs that I can employ to extract the truth from you. These men here are loyal to me and will assist. If you cooperate, this can be quick and painless. However, if you choose to resist, little girl, I will break you. Adam, Samuel and Damon are currently occupied with a minor crisis, buying me ample time to deal with you. We can accomplish this in less than an hour. Soon enough, we'll be dining together, and I can even offer you a massage as a gesture of reconciliation. But remember, it all depends on your compliance and lack of resistance. The choice is yours."
My heart sank, realizing the gravity of the situation. I knew how crucial it was to remain silent when necessary. However, the effects of the electrocution still coursed through me, exacerbating my frustration and rendering me unable to control my rage. Helplessly, I was trapped, both physically and emotionally.
There was a briefcase on the table next to Bran and many jars of medicine. He had a syringe packet next to him. He took one of the pre-filled syringes, attached it to the cannula, and pressed the plunger. My mind went fuzzy. Sounds seemed to come from underwater. I was confused, not really understanding everything.
" Who is the head of the base in Chicago? Phone number, now Mimi? Name and number."
I said nothing.
"Mimi, give me name and number right now."
I kept my mouth shut, and a burning pain hit my side as he now used the taser on my side. I could smell my burning flesh. The pain tore, and the confusion didn't help, but I kept my mouth shut.
" Mimi, give me the number of Brutus right now. What's the address of the base in Portugal?"
The pain struck again. Then another drug. Clouding my mind even more, the flood of questions wouldn't stop.
" New York base, address? What about Montana? I don't think you have anyone there. Monaco liaison? Jarod's phone number? Did you have a dedicated platform on the internet anywhere?"
Question after question and pain shot through my body. I noticed Bran's rage and frustration. At one point, he commanded a man when he tried to get Bran to stop asking questions when I wouldn't talk.
Bran started asking questions and pushing drugs again. He was right that they were strong, but I kept quiet. He was using a lot of different drugs. Some topically.I was clearer now.
Bran said, " Do you know, little girl, why you and Salvatore always have a good time in bed? Well, it's the pheromones. You've probably noticed that he likes to sniff and nuzzle your neck, especially the right side. When your pheromones are there, he irritates them to release more and more pheromones. But you've probably never heard what happens to a werewolf without pheromones. They're alone; they may have mates, but they don't have sex the way normal ones do. Also, the heat is milder, shorter, and not as intense. "
Bran now took a glowing branding iron and said. "I'm going to stick this in your pheromone glands and burn them out. You'll be fine, little girl, but your pheromones won't be back, so your life with Salvatore will be a dull one, and you know what it'll do to Damon when you're no longer so desirable. The same goes for Adam. He won't see you nearly the same way when werewolves are addicted to pheromones."
Then he forcefully slammed the scorching iron into my vulnerable neck, causing an excruciating pain that overwhelmed me, and I succumbed to unconsciousness. As I regained consciousness, a suffocating sensation enveloped me, my throat and neck throbbing with each heartbeat, the soreness intensifying.
The relentless interrogation persisted, yet I remained resolute in my silence, my thoughts consumed by the sheer endurance of the torment. Suddenly, Bran commanded his accomplices to hoist me onto one bed, restraining me tightly while he himself methodically bit down on every bite mark inflicted by Adam or Damon.
Gradually, my senses sharpened. Bound and helpless, I met Bran's gaze as he uttered, "Do you comprehend the agony a woman endures if her milk remains unextracted? Soon, you will experience it firsthand. We shall see if you talk."
In his hands, he wielded two large syringes, sporting long and formidable needles. The first puncture into my nipple sent waves of searing pain coursing through me. Relentlessly, he injected the entire 100 ml fluid into one breast, the pressure building to an uncomfortable crescendo. Without pause, he repeated the invasive act on the other breast.
The interrogation persisted, now accompanied by the searing sensation of a branding iron searing my flesh. The acrid stench of my own burning flesh filled the air, while the incessant throbbing in my neck showed no signs of relenting. The ache in my breasts intensified, an unyielding reminder of their swollen state.
At Bran's command, the men lifted me back into the chair, their actions more forceful this time. Though not heavily medicated, a man stood behind me, incessantly massaging and squeezing my tender breasts. The pain escalated, white-hot and unbearable, causing me to moan involuntarily. Bran directed the man to increase the intensity until the agony rendered me unconscious.
When I awoke, my breasts throbbed incessantly, their fiery hue and scorching temperature confirming Bran's words, "You already have mastitis. Your breasts overflow with unexpressed milk, yet no one tends to it. But that's alright; you are resilient. Perhaps we need to make you considerably sicker to elicit cooperation."
The relentless squeezing of my breasts persisted, punctuated by Bran's use of a taser to incapacitate me further. Though heavily drugged, I maintained my composure, a lesson ingrained within me by Magnum and Adam during their own interrogations. I had endured their torment with unwavering bravery, and the teachings had not been in vain.
It wasn't hard not to talk, but I felt so bad that my self-control slipped, well in the sense that as soon as I got into my rage, there was going to be an ugly aftermath- I was really getting close to where I was going to give a shit. In a big way, but Bran was blissfully unaware of it as he didn't know me.
He came and sat in front of me again. I was wounded, covered in burns. Bran had burned my neck several times, making sure my pheromone glands were destroyed for good. I was a little more lucid again, trying to control myself.
I hope that at some point, Adam, Samuel, or even Damon will come back.
Bran had a petri dish in his hand. I could see the growth in it.
Bran's crisp voice echoed through the room as he explained his twisted plan. "Now, the petri dish before us holds a highly contagious streptococcus. I will begin by focusing on your vulnerable throat," he stated, his words slicing through the silence.
The men approached, their footsteps echoing ominously as they prepared to pry open my mouth with a metallic spreader.
With a chilling precision, Bran brandished a small scraper, its sharp edge glinting in the dim light. He described how he would break the delicate lining of my throat, deliberately infecting it with the dangerous bacteria. He told me how Samuel, an accomplice with knowledge of werewolf biology, had spent countless hours in the clinic fighting against this strain, as it proved exceptionally effective against them. How this bug had killed many werewolves, and Samuel was quite powerless against it, as it was very resistant to antibiotics.
Bran's voice remained devoid of emotion, as if I were merely an enemy, not a person. He continued his disturbing monologue, mentioning the possibility of erysipelas, a painful skin infection. The mention sent shivers down my spine, knowing the agony it could bring. The thought of him using the scraper to torment my breasts filled me with dread, as I imagined the excruciating pain that would follow. When I was human, I had erysipelas a few times, and it was not fun. Even though I had gotten treatment early, I knew this wasn't good if he would infect already my very inflamed breasts.
My heart raced as Bran revealed his twisted tools. The scraper, now coated with flakes of gold, which hindered healing. And then, the cobalt spray, its pungent scent filling the air, reminding me of the ship where it had robbed me of my ability to heal. He explained his plan in clinical detail, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He was really crazy. All this is for my contacts. I did not know if he really thought that I would break. What he thought to accomplish this, well, other than get himself in terrible books in my mind.
The men approached, their movements calculated and cold. Bran unleashed the cobalt spray, its mist coating my throat, filling the air with a metallic tang. With a steady hand, he forcefully scraped my throat, the sensation searing through my body, leaving it tender and raw. The gold-infused scraper intensified the pain, burning the delicate lining of my throat. Each breath became a struggle, my already compromised breathing deteriorating further.
Turning his attention to my inflamed breasts, Bran sprayed them with the cobalt mist. The already fiery pain intensified as minutes ticked by. The scraper, now stained with my blood, tore through my skin, infecting my breasts with streptococcus. I remained silent, my voice stolen by the torment coursing through my body.
As the agony intensified, I trembled uncontrollably, feeling the fever rising. Dark red rashes marred my breasts, and blisters formed, a testament to the relentless assault on my body. But Bran showed no concern. He confined me to my bed in the dimly lit downstairs bedroom, leaving me to suffer in the fever's grip.
His voice, detached and detached from reality, explained how he and the men had become immune to the streptococcus, thanks to Samuel's vaccine. He was weakening me, knowing that my fever would burn calories like crazy, and my weight dropped steadily and frightfully fast.
His watchful eyes fixed upon me as the fever climbed to a dangerous 48 degrees Celsius. In my weakened state, I could do nothing but endure as Bran's sadistic treatment continued as he pursued to interrogate me, and the flood of questions began again. I remained silent.
One man was a fear demon, and that was the only thing that had stopped me from attacking. I didn't know how long this torture had gone on. I knew I'd lost weight and a lot. I can't keep in good shape at all, and the universe has apparently made me pay again for enjoying myself and not doing flea jobs.
Bran started getting frustrated when I wasn't talking. Well, my breathing was wheezy and raspy as my throat was full of pus, and I could vomit or spit out sheer rot out of my mouth as these abscesses erupted in my throat.
Well, then, when I was drugged, of course, I was aspirating the pus into my lungs, getting full-blown pneumonia myself. I was now very weak. The fever was raging full blast, but I had read enough medicine to know that sepsis was just around the corner, and what my fate would be at the end, I didn't know.
Bran came into my room and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at me, stroked me, and said, " Adam, Samuel, and Damon are back. It's been two weeks, and you just won't break, but you will. You're in terrible shape now, and you won't be able to fight much longer. I don't always like to do these tricks to you, Mimi, but when you don't give me a choice. You better learn, and this is a hard and really painful lesson, but it will teach you." His voice was icy as ever, and his stroking was only to make the pain in the neck, chest, and breasts worse as erysipelas had spread quite a lot.
" Now, if Damon comes into the room, play sleepy, and you better be believable, or that fear demon who has called his friends, and they will take the two steps forward it takes for you to feel them. And then I'm going to give you the sedative. Not so strong that you're in a full coma, but so strong that you're in a nightmare. You are a strong being with incredible willpower. Now I am going to tame that willpower for my use and you will learn how much easier your life will be when you obey me without question. You'll also discover that I can be a really pleasant company if I'm not annoyed in the wrong way. You will be an excellent mate for me. It will be a credit to this pack that I took a mate from this pack. "
Oh, that guy's crazy. But I'm screwed. What am I supposed to do now? My options were pretty fucking limited. Bran took a thick blanket and covered me up so my trembling wouldn't show. But he was crazy if he didn't assume that Damon didn't already smell like he was okay. Then he left the room as if nothing had happened. I wondered in my mind what choice I even had to make. How much longer could I last?