The door burst open with a deafening crash, and Elias strode in,his sharp suit immaculate as always. His eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on Alaric, who stood frozen, his expression unreadable. Alaric didn't react—not outwardly. But seeing Elias could mean only one thing: he was being taken to Dr. Halloran.
Elias clapped his hands slowly, the sound echoing through the tense room. "Eleanor," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your daughter is very disappointed in you. Coming here without her permission? Tsk, tsk." He moved toward her predatorily as he grabbed her arm. His grip looked deceptively gentle, but Eleanor visibly flinched.
Leaning in close, his voice dropped to a whisper, though his words were sharp enough to cut. "If you ever pull a stunt like this again," he murmured, "you'll soon miss a finger. Maybe even two."
Eleanor shuddered, her face pale, but the moment his grip loosened, she violently wrenched herself free, staggering toward Alaric. Her hands reached out desperately, trembling as she sobbed. "Alaric, please!" she begged, her voice breaking. "I love you! I've always loved you! You have to remember! You have to—"
But Alaric stood like a statue, his icy gaze fixed on her with a chilling detachment. His silence was deafening, more brutal than any words could have been. Her cries only grew more frantic, her hands clawing at his sleeves as she begged him to love her again, her voice trembling with desperation.
Alaric eyes flashed to Eleanor,"I would never have loved you, I know myself."
"Enough," Elias said lazily, watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk. He leaned casually against the splintered doorframe, his posture relaxed, though his eyes glinted with cruel amusement. His gaze shifted to Alaric, and his smile widened, a sickening display.
Elias's voice, though soft, cut through Eleanor's pleading like a blade. "And now, because of you, Eleanor," he said, his tone almost cheerful, "the two men who escorted you here will have to die."
Eleanor froze, her tear-streaked face snapping toward him in horror. "No," she breathed, shaking her head. "Please, Elias, no! They didn't do anything wrong—they were just following orders!"
Elias tilted his head, his expression mocking. "Oh, but that's the problem, isn't it? You disobeyed her orders. Can't have insubordination spreading, can we?" His grin turned feral, and his eyes flicked back to Alaric. "Don't worry, though. I'll make sure their deaths are... quick."
Elias's smirk deepened as he straightened from the doorframe, his eyes now fixed solely on Alaric. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it, Alaric?" he said smoothly, his voice carrying a dangerous undertone. "We really should catch up. I've missed our little... chats." His suggestive tone lingered in the air like a threat, and the gleam in his eyes was anything but friendly.
Alaric remained silent, his face carved from stone, though his fists clenched ever so slightly at his sides. The small movement didn't go unnoticed by Elias, whose smirk widened as if he'd won some unspoken game.
"Well, no need to keep you waiting," Elias said with mock cheerfulness, stepping forward to grasp Eleanor by the arm once more. She recoiled, her tear-streaked face turning toward Alaric in one last desperate plea.
"Alaric, please!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Don't let him take me! You have to stop this! Please!"
But Alaric didn't move. He didn't speak. His icy gaze met hers, and the void in his expression was devastating.
Elias chuckled softly, a low, dangerous sound that filled the room. "Oh, Eleanor," he said, shaking his head. "Still clinging to hope? That's almost... adorable." With a sharp tug, he pulled her toward the door, her sobs echoing in the silent room. "I'll take good care of her, Alaric. Don't worry." He glanced over his shoulder, his grin wicked. "You just worry about yourself. Dr. Halloran is very eager to see you again."
As Elias disappeared through the door with Eleanor, three guards stepped forward, their expressions blank but their postures rigid. One gestured sharply, the universal command to move. Alaric didn't resist as they flanked him on either side, their hands hovering near their weapons.
The walk to Dr. Halloran's lab was suffocatingly silent.
Every step felt heavier as they neared the inevitable destination. Memories threatened to surface—flashes of pain, blood, and the doctor's clinical, detached smile—but he shoved them back down, locking them away behind a mental wall of ice.
The guards finally stopped in front of the door, its surface marred with scratches and faint stains. One of them keyed in a code on a panel, and with a mechanical hiss, the door slid open to reveal the brightly lit room.
Dr. Halloran stood in the center, his lab coat pristine,gloved hands clasped in front of him. His sharp, calculating eyes lit up when they landed on Alaric, as if he were a long-lost treasure finally returned.
"Ah, Alaric," he said, his voice smooth and clinical, though it carried an undertone of sadistic glee. "It's been far too long. "
The guards nudged Alaric forward, their grips firm but unnecessary. He stepped into the room without resistance, the door sliding shut behind him with a finality that reverberated through the sterile air.
Dr. Halloran smiled. "I have so many questions, Alaric. And all the time in the world to find the answers."
——
The scene dissolved, fading into a suffocating darkness. Alaric blinked,his wrists were bound with cold iron, the cuffs cutting into his skin. His body sagged in a chair bolted to the floor,his head lolled forward, but a sharp, electric jolt shot up his spine, snapping him upright.
His throat was dry, raw from screaming—or had he been silent the whole time? He couldn't remember. The line between minutes and hours blurred into an endless cycle of agony and relief, only for the agony to begin again.
Flashes of the torture blinked through his mind like fragments of a nightmare: the scalpel carving into his flesh, precise incisions exposing the muscle underneath. The needles, injecting something cold and alien into his veins, making his body convulse uncontrollably. The smell of his own burning skin when he pressed an iron rod against his chest for an extended period of time.
And then, the final humiliation.
When he came to, Alaric was no longer bound. He was slumped forward on the floor, his body trembling. A steel tray clattered to the ground in front of him, the sound ringing in his ears like a gunshot.
"Eat," came Dr. Halloran's voice, clipped and commanding.
He lifted his head weakly, his vision blurry. On the tray sat chunks of raw, glistening meat. He didn't need to ask what it was. The smell alone told him—human.
"No," he rasped, his voice barely audible.He hated when his food was cold.
Halloran crouched in front of him, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Alaric,you say this every time but do you have any choice in the matter?" he said softly, almost mockingly. "This isn't optional. You need to eat or else you'll be weaker, won't you? Your body demands it. You're like an animal, really—no better than a dog ,the only difference is that you heal rapidly so you don't die from starvation."
The word hit him like a slap, but his body betrayed him. His stomach churned with hunger, the gnawing ache overriding his revulsion. He tried to resist, clenching his fists so tightly his nails cut into his palms, but the primal instinct was too strong.
With a trembling hand, he picked up a piece of meat, the blood smearing his fingers. He hesitated, his breath hitching, and for a moment, he thought he could defy him.
Then his body made the decision for him. His hand moved to his mouth, and he bit down. The taste of iron flooded his tongue, and he chewed mechanically, swallowing the chunk with a shudder.
"You see?" Halloran's voice was smooth, triumphant. "You can't help yourself. You're no better than the beasts you devour."
Alaric swallowed another bite, his movements robotic, his mind detached.
_____
Hours blurred into one another, time marked only by the harsh click of boots and the rhythmic hum of fluorescent lights. Alaric had learned not to hope, not to anticipate anything beyond the next agonizing moment.
Dr. Halloran re-entered the room with a confident stride.
"You've been quite the compliant little specimen lately," Halloran remarked. He stopped in front of Alaric, towering over him. "Obedience deserves a reward, wouldn't you agree?"
Alaric stared at him, his expression carefully neutral, though the faintest flicker of curiosity betrayed him.
Halloran's smirk widened as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I thought you might like to see your pet."
The words struck Alaric like a blow, his carefully constructed facade momentarily cracking. He straightened, his eyes narrowing. "I get to see him?" he asked, his voice hoarse, though the disbelief was evident.
Halloran chuckled darkly, pacing around Alaric like a predator circling its prey. "Indeed. You've been so... good. And good behavior must be encouraged, don't you think?" He stopped abruptly and leaned in close, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "But don't mistake this for kindness. You've only earned a few minutes, nothing more."
Alaric nodded stiffly, swallowing his pride. He knew better than to argue.
"Follow me," Halloran commanded, turning on his heel.
Alaric rose to his feet excitedly, and trailed after Halloran. Guards flanked them as they walked through the labyrinthine corridors, their silence oppressive.
Eventually, they arrived at a pair of heavy metal doors labeled Training Grounds in bold, black lettering. Halloran placed his hand on a scanner, and with a soft beep, the doors slid open.
The sight that greeted Alaric made his stomach churn with hunger. The "training grounds" were a grotesque arena, its floors stained with blood and its walls lined with cages. Inside, figures moved through grueling drills, their bodies battered and broken under the watchful eyes of overseers armed with shock batons.
Halloran gestured grandly toward the scene. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his tone almost jovial. "This is where discipline is forged. Where weakness is stripped away, leaving only what's useful."
Alaric said nothing, his sharp eyes scanning the area. Then he saw him.
Huddled in the corner of a cage, his form battered but unmistakably alive, was his pet. Their eyes met his through the bars, wide with recognition. Relief flickered across his face, followed swiftly by apprehension.
"Ah, there they are," Halloran said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Still in one piece, as promised."
They didn't speak, but the relief in
Eric's eyes said everything. For a fleeting moment, the horrors of the training grounds seemed to fade away.
Halloran's laughter shattered the fragile moment. "How beautiful," he sneered. "But don't forget, Alaric—your pet is here because of you. Their suffering is tied to your failures. Keep that in mind the next time you consider testing my patience."
Halloran's voice echoed behind him as he left the room. "Earn my favor, Alaric, and maybe next time, you'll be excused from experiments and your dog won't have to be tortured when he does something wrong."
The guards shoved Alaric into the cage, the clang of the metal door locking behind him. He stumbled forward but quickly regained his composure, his sharp eyes scanning the confines of the cage.
Eric was already inside, sitting against the far wall. His piercing gaze followed Alaric's every move, as though assessing every inch of him. The faint glint of blood on Eric's lips caught the dim light, and he lazily wiped it away with the back of his hand, his expression shifting to something between surprise and curiosity.
"Well," Alaric drawled, his voice low and smooth. "You look worse than I expected. Guess they've been keeping you busy."
Eric didn't respond, his focus shifting to the far corner of the cage that only now Alaric had taken notice of. There, a pile of bodies lay haphazardly, twisted and broken, their lifeless eyes staring into nothing. The faint coppery scent of blood mingled with the stale air, but Alaric didn't flinch instead he smiled cruelly .
He began to circle the cage.His eyes never left Eric, watching for any sudden shifts, any tells.
Eric tilted his head, smirking slightly as he rose to his feet. The movement was unhurried, almost casual, but there was an edge to it—a quiet power that radiated from him. He was taller than Alaric remembered, broader too, though his lean frame still held that same deceptive grace.
"Something catch your eye?" Eric asked, gesturing vaguely toward the pile of bodies. His tone was conversational, but Alaric knew killing so many was ripping Eric apart.
Eric suddenly closed the gap between them, his arms wrapping around Alaric from behind in a movement that was both desperate and startlingly gentle. His chin rested lightly on Alaric's shoulder.
"I missed you," Eric murmured, his voice low but thick with emotion. "You don't understand how much."
Alaric stiffened, his muscles going rigid under Eric's touch. His breath hitched, but he didn't move right away. For a moment, it felt as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the past and present colliding in ways Alaric hadn't prepared for.
But then, the memories crashed in—sharp and unrelenting. What Killian had done to him had hurt him and Eric reminded him so much of him. Alaric pulled away abruptly, as he stepped out of Eric's grasp.
Eric froze, his arms falling to his sides as if they'd suddenly become useless. His piercing gaze locked onto Alaric, wide and searching, the vulnerability in his expression raw and unguarded.
"Did... did I do something wrong?" Eric asked, his voice trembling slightly. He took a hesitant step forward, his hand half-raised as though reaching out for Alaric again. "Tell me what I did. I'll fix it. Whatever it is, I'll fix it."
Alaric's back was to Eric now, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He forced himself to take a steadying breath before turning back to face him. His expression was unreadable, his icy gaze carefully detached, but his voice softened as he spoke.
"No, Eric," Alaric said quietly, his tone carrying an undercurrent of weariness. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why?" Eric demanded, his voice cracking. The vulnerability was gone now, replaced by a desperate need for answers. "Why won't you let me in? Why do you keep pulling away?"
Alaric hesitated, his gaze flicking away briefly before returning to Eric's. For a moment, the mask he always wore slipped, and something haunted flickered in his expression.
"Because you remind me of someone," Alaric admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Someone who hurt me."
Eric's face crumpled at the words, the weight of them hitting him like a blow. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice laced with anguish. "You have to know that. I—" He cut himself off, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep himself together.
"I know," Alaric said softly, his gaze steady but distant. "I know you wouldn't. "
Eric's chest heaved as he stared at Alaric, his emotions raw and barely contained. He took an unsteady step forward, his hands trembling at his sides, before suddenly surging forward and grabbing Alaric by the arm.
Eric's trembling hand moved up again, this time more controlled, as he reached for Alaric's face.It was if he could sense someone had touched Alaric and was now wiping away their dirty hands on him.
"Who was it?" Eric asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alaric didn't answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. It was a taunting, knowing smile that Eric knew.It was the smile of Alaric wanting to hurt someone.
"I kissed someone," Alaric said casually, his tone laced with deliberate cruelty. He leaned in just enough to close the distance between them, his icy eyes locking with Eric's. "My past lover, to be exact."
Eric's jaw tightened, his breath hitching as Alaric's words sank in. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but his gaze didn't waver.
"You're lying," Eric said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, a flicker of doubt that Alaric immediately seized on.
Alaric's smirk deepened, his voice dropping to a low, mocking whisper. "Am I? Maybe I missed the way they felt. Maybe I wanted to taste what it was like again." He chuckled darkly, leaning in even closer until his lips were nearly brushing Eric's ear. "Or maybe I just wanted to see how you'd react."
That was all it took. Eric's eyes flashed, a predatory gleam overtaking his usually controlled gaze. In a heartbeat, he grabbed Alaric by the collar and slammed him back against the cage wall. The sound of metal rattling echoed through the space, but Alaric didn't flinch. Instead, his smirk only grew, as if he was daring Eric to go further.
"This isn't funny?" Eric growled, his voice low and dangerous. His hands tightened on Alaric's shirt, his breathing ragged as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.
Alaric didn't answer. He didn't need to. The look in his eyes, the infuriating smirk on his lips, said enough.
Eric snapped. He surged forward. His teeth bit down on Alaric's lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and when Alaric gasped, Eric's tongue darted out, licking at the metallic taste that now coated his lips.
When Eric finally pulled back, his chest was heaving, his gaze fixed on Alaric with a mix of anger and something far more dangerous. Alaric's lips were swollen, a streak of blood painting them like a macabre mark.
"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Eric said hoarsely, his voice shaking with barely restrained emotion. "To push me until I broke. To see what I'd do."
Eric's grip loosened, his hands falling to his sides as he stepped back. His gaze flickered over Alaric's face, searching for something—anything—that would give him an answer, a reason. But Alaric's expression was as unreadable as ever, his icy detachment firmly back in place.
"You don't feel anything for them— right?" Eric said quietly, his voice laced with a bitterness that made Alaric's smirk falter for the briefest of moments.
"I never loved Eleanor," Alaric said suddenly, his voice low but firm. His gaze was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.
Eric's lips pressed into a thin line, his fists clenching again, but he didn't respond—it was her name. He turned away, his shoulders tense as he walked to the other side of the cage, putting as much distance between them as he could.
Alaric's tongue darted out, slowly licking his lips, savoring the lingering taste of blood. His smile curled further, a dark amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked at Eric's retreating form. He had expected some kind of reaction, but seeing Eric unravel like this was almost too satisfying. The power he held over him was intoxicating, even if it was fleeting.
He barely had time to enjoy the moment before the door to the cage creaked open, and Dr. Halloran stepped inside, his presence calm and almost indifferent. His white coat gleamed in the dim light, and his glasses gleamed as his sharp gaze fell on Alaric.
"It's time for your treatment," Dr. Halloran said, his voice smooth, as if nothing had changed.
Alaric's smile faded just a fraction as he turned toward the doctor, his eyes narrowing. He had been dreading this moment, but there was little he could do to escape it now.
He glanced back at Eric, who had grown increasingly frantic, pacing like an animal in a cage, his eyes wild with fury when he saw they wanted to take Alaric back . His hands gripped the bars, his chest heaving as he watched Alaric, his lips curling back in a silent snarl.
Dr. Halloran's eyes flicked to Eric, noting his agitated state with an almost detached interest. He raised an eyebrow, a dark glint crossing his face. "I see we've had some... emotional turbulence," he remarked dryly. He stepped closer to Eric, inspecting him as though he were a subject in one of his experiments.
Eric snarled, his eyes flicking between the doctor and Alaric. "What the hell is going on here?" he spat, voice thick with frustration and hurt. He started pulling at the bars of the cage, desperate to break free.
Alaric stepped toward him, trying to steady the situation, but his voice remained cold. "No, Eric. Calm down." He said it more to stop the chaos than for any genuine concern. His words had little effect; if anything, they seemed to fuel Eric's rampage.
Dr. Halloran glanced at Alaric, considering for a moment before he gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "You know, I've been thinking." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe... maybe it's time I experiment with Eric."
Alaric's eyes narrowed sharply in anger. He simply watched as Dr. Halloran's gaze shifted back to Eric, who was now thrashing against the bars in a frenzy, his voice frantic.
"Please," Eric growled, eyes blazing with a dangerous mix of pain and rage. "Let him go ,take me instead!" His body was trembling with the effort to break free, but the cage was too strong, and the restraints too tight.
"No," Alaric finally said, his voice laced with a warning.
Dr. Halloran only chuckled softly, as if Alaric's words were nothing more than an amusing side note. He turned to the guards who had been standing silently by the door, waiting for the next instruction. "You heard that—he doesn't want the vampire to replace him."
Eric's wild eyes flicked from Alaric to Dr. Halloran, his gaze almost pleading as though searching for some unspoken reassurance.
Alaric held his stare for a moment before silently turning and walking away. The rest of the day blurred into a haze of experiments and cold precision, yet Alaric's thoughts were elsewhere—fixated on Eric's desperation and the ever-lingering presence of Killian.