I was in a mansion in Pennsylvania, gathering information on demons, putting fleas on them. I will not let this job go unpunished because I knew those demons were still out there. I'd been here now for three weeks since I left the cage. I hadn't slept, not since I was in Monaco.
I'd been getting myself in shape, and I still wasn't quite back to my shape when I got in the cage. My condition is so damn easy to get down and then to get back to that condition when it's not so fast, but none of these people take that into account. And I wanted to fucking kill them and badly.
Damon wasn't actually bothered by the demons, and he didn't understand why I was so fucking passionate about killing them. He wasn't on the ship. He was a great gladiator and a prizefighter, and from what I had overheard Samuel say, they always fought in packs. There were always four of them, and mostly against different animals. No one-on-one cage fighting. But as I said, Mimosa had only given Damon the gist of what we were experiencing. She had given none of this demon's licks.
There on the ship, that hour of rest, I didn't spend alone. I was naked in chains until the moment I had to go to the fight. And these demons. I can still feel that demon's two forked tongue on my body. I can say there's no place in me it didn't taste. It brought a lot of friends, licked me.
I was drugged, sore, hurt, and unable to do anything because it always made it so that when I came out of the fight, the preparation started. The hour of rest was just before I had to go to the fight, so yes, my rage got a boost and I didn't have to think about it there but I would only wake up to find that every memory from that ship is crystal clear and the smells, every sense belongs to it.
So, I had my reasons. But when I had my pride, my will, and I didn't want to be a victim, I had said nothing to anybody. Adam was dealing with other killings, and I said nothing to him about it, either.
I knew I was going to get heat at some point, but I wasn't interested because there was no one I was interested in getting heat with at the moment. So, obviously, I kept my lust at bay. Damon and Samuel have both said that I have an infinitely powerful will, and I can even change my physiology with it.
Well, apparently, I can, and it didn't bother me one bit. That world saving mission strengthened my will even more and during these three weeks, oh god damn it, I have been drinking blood.
I for some reason, or it's obviously not wise, don't want to show my bloodlust when Bran is in the house, so I spent three days in a black lace dress, hair white, poison nails out and drank blood before my worst bloodlust was appeased. I don't know when the fuck it will even out, but it takes strength to keep it so fucking well hidden all the time.
I kept getting information on those demons, and I was always ready to come up with a plan to kill those bastards. But then, when a fantastic opportunity came along, I couldn't pass it up. Dresden, Constantine, and Magnum were unavailable, and I knew if I informed the pack, they would just say no. They didn't have a lovely eight weeks with this satanic groping stinker.
They would be in one of the storage buildings and would not understand when I attacked them. Oh, that this was going to be a great time. So fucking perfect. All I'd have to do is go in there and start shooting. Supposedly, these demons were going into hiding precisely because the fleas were chasing them. Well, tonight they would face the flea and their fate.
I packed up all my stuff, jumped in the car, and started driving. This was going to go perfectly. I didn't even put on my protective gear this time.
Quietly, I crept into the dimly lit storage room, the scent of dust and old cardboard boxes filling the air. With my gun tightly gripped in my hand, I cautiously advanced, the cold metal providing a sense of security.
The faint sound of whispers reached my ears, confirming their presence—the demons. Salvatore and I had been locked in a perpetual debate for years, arguing over whether to eliminate them. He believed it was beyond my capabilities, lacking the stamina and skills required. But I had already slain countless demons, their bodies left in my wake.
Damon, consumed by his obsession, had gone to extreme lengths to hinder my demon-slaying abilities. He had kidnapped me, drugged me, and taken me to an isolated cabin, attempting to reprogram me into helplessness. However, the truth was that the demons had wreaked havoc on us, tormenting us in ways that surpassed mere mischief.
The reason I pursued these demons could be traced back to a particular incident. Their leader, or someone of their ilk, had dispatched Damon, Samuel, Adam, and Bran into the treacherous depths of the demon dimension to fight. There, they had fallen in love, with not so nice women. In response, they had put me on the frontline, a pawn in their fight club. That was my grudge against them.
Armed with my trusty guns and specially crafted demon kill bullets courtesy of Dresden, I felt a surge of confidence. While the pack had their own arsenal, these were my personal ammunition, reserved for moments like these.
I had spent two weeks confined in a cage, Damon's worry intensifying with every injury I sustained during our demon hunts. But I was immortal. A mere scratch would heal in due time. Magnum was occupied elsewhere, Constantine pursued voodoo witches, and Dresden was preoccupied with demon coins. Adam reveled in his killing sprees, Samuel dedicated himself to the clinics, and Bran, Marrok, traveled, solving alpha-related issues. As for Damon, well, it was customary for me to wake up to velveted up to my eyes, with the Lord's belongings neatly placed on the table, and Damon mysteriously absent. Salvatore's absence could span from days to months.
However, this time, it was I who had left. After enduring two weeks of confinement within the cage, enduring the daily onslaught of the pack's angry tirades, I had reached my limit. So, as soon as the cage door swung open, I seized the opportunity and left. I had learned that action was necessary when the opportunity presented itself. And now, here I stood, ready to kill.
Stepping further into the storage room, I expertly loaded my gun, the metallic clicks echoing through the silence. Bang. Another demon fell, the sound muffled by the silencer attached to my weapon. Methodically, I made my way down the dimly lit hallway, my senses heightened.
Then, it hit me like a tidal wave. Fear. An overwhelming sense of dread enveloped me, freezing me in place. I couldn't move. Panic surged through my veins. Oh, fuck. A fear demon lurked somewhere in this labyrinth of darkness, its malevolent strength palpable. This was the very reason Salvatore vehemently opposed my demon-killing endeavors. My vulnerability to fear demons made me a dangerous target. Oops.
Something abruptly seized my arm, its grip tightening like an iron vice, and forcefully jerked me backward. Startled, I stumbled, only to find Damon yanking me protectively behind him, seeking cover from the imminent danger. The thunderous sound of gunshots pierced the air as Damon swiftly eliminated three menacing demons that had been poised to unleash their destructive fury upon me. However, unbeknownst to me, another demon lurked behind, concealed from my sight.
With a resounding crash, the demons were vanquished, their malevolence extinguished. Damon's grip on my arm remained unyielding, as he forcefully dragged me towards the waiting car. The door swung open with a violent force, and I was unceremoniously shoved inside. Without hesitation, Damon settled himself in the driver's seat, his frustration and anger palpable.
"What the fuck were you thinking, baby? You deliberately put yourself in harm's way! How many fucking times do I have to drill it into your head not to pursue demons when you're clearly outmatched recklessly?"
Damon's voice reverberated with fury, his words laced with a fiery intensity. He was genuinely shouting, his concern for my safety overriding any attempt to conceal his emotions.
"What if I hadn't arrived in time? Huh? What would you have done, baby? Does Bran have any knowledge of your impulsive escapades? Did you even seek permission to engage in this perilous mission? You cannot comprehend the gravity of your situation, Mimi. There are repercussions, dire consequences that await you."
Damon's voice turned harsh, his tone laced with a hint of uncertainty.
"I don't know what Bran intends to do with you. I truly don't." He continued, his frustration clear. I mustered a response, determined to assert my perspective amidst the chaos.
"When it comes to matters like this, Bran's involvement is irrelevant to me. Adam is the true leader of our pack." I spoke, my voice calm but resolute.
Damon's glare intensified, his gaze piercing through me as he vehemently responded.
"Bran may be present in the house, but he warned you. He's part of this mission, whether or not you like it." His words carried a weight of authority, challenging my assertions.
I attempted to reason with him, my voice filled with a desperate plea.
"Can't you speak to Bran about this? Those demons...they were the ones that-" Damon's explosive outburst abruptly cut off my words, his voice drowning out any further attempts at explanation.
"FUCK, MIMI! I'm not here to speak for you! I'm speaking against you! You were fucking cowardly! Just because you're not afraid to die doesn't mean you're invincible. Oh, fuck, you don't understand! How many times do I have to mend you after these encounters with demons? Don't you realize that you'll end up back in the medbay, enduring months of agonizing recovery? They inflict unspeakable horrors upon you!"
Damon's tirade echoed in the tense silence that followed. I remained silent, allowing his words to hang in the air, the truth of his concern lingering.
Damon's expression hardened, lines etched upon his face as he reached for his phone, pressing it to his ear, shielding me from the conversation that ensued with Bran.
Damon called Bran, his voice urgent and filled with tension. "Salvatore here. Did you know dear Mimi was on another demon hunt? When I arrived on the scene, Missy was frozen in place like a pillar of salt. There was a fear demon, three others attacking, and another foul poison demon with a sword right behind Mimi. She didn't have her back covered."
Damon paused, listening intently to Bran's response. "Yeah, we're coming. Fine. Let's talk more then. We will."
The call ended, and Damon, his expression unreadable, removed the earpiece from his ear and placed it on the console. The car's engine roared to life.
Debated whether to tell him what I knew, but the pungent odor of wet dog permeated the air, mingling with the cold, clinical gaze Salvatore gave me. I kept my mouth shut; I didn't want to reveal any weaknesses. Fastening my seatbelt, we embarked on the drive to the house, enveloped in silence.
Upon reaching the yard, Damon's grip tightened around my arm, forcefully dragging me into the basement. He ripped off my outer clothing, leaving me exposed, and flung me into a cage. His icy gaze pierced through me as he spoke, his voice devoid of any warmth.
"Wait there while we consider your punishment. You can be sure there will be more coming."
I settled on the mattress at the bottom of the cage, preparing myself for what lay ahead. I knew no one would bother asking me anything; my voice held no significance. Immortal and resilient, I contemplated how long the recovery would take this time.
Damien was prepared. Mimi's stubbornness had led him into a perilous situation. Using telepathy, Damon observed his wife's actions, witnessing her embarking on a demon hunt, informing no one. It hadn't been difficult to ignite the flames of Salvatore's rage within Damon, pushing him to the brink of fury and prompting Damien's escape. He had a plan in motion, manipulating and involving Bran, Adam, and even Samuel.
The best part? He had learned to control or disrupt Damon's telepathy, preventing him from fully understanding Mimi's thoughts. If only Damon had witnessed the menacing demons surrounding her, he would have grasped the truth. Fortunately, Damien had ensured otherwise, painting Mimi as the villain, an undisciplined troublemaker. Now, he would put his new invention to the test, relishing the exhilarating times that lay ahead. And then, he would use Damon as a pawn, disguising his role as a mere fuck machine while secretly shaping the future.