"Get comfortable, little vampire. Your time will come soon enough."
...
The chamber was silent for a moment after the cloaked figure's words, save for the faint clinking of chains as the captives shifted uneasily. Max leaned back against the cold stone wall, his crimson eyes flicking over the others in the room. The tension was palpable, a mix of fear and resignation hanging in the air like a heavy fog.
The scaled man broke the silence first. "Well, since we're all stuck here, we might as well know each other's names. I'm Tarren. Used to be a merchant before… this." He gestured vaguely to the scaly patches covering the left side of his face and neck.
Max raised an eyebrow. "And they turned you into… that?"
Tarren shrugged. "An experiment gone wrong. Or right, depending on who you ask. What about you, vampire? Got a name?"
"Maksimilian, but you guys can call me Max" he said curtly, his gaze still scanning the room. `Though it doesn't feel like that name fits this body. But that aside, my name is majestic`
The hulking brute in the corner let out a low grunt. "Names don't matter here. Only survival." His voice was deep and gravelly, a stark contrast to the relative softness of his features. Despite his massive frame, there was an odd gentleness in his eyes.
Tarren rolled his eyes. "Ignore Grall. He's been here longer than most of us and thinks he knows everything."
Grall didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the far wall as if lost in thought.
The girl with the glowing veins hesitated before speaking, her voice barely audible. "I'm Lynara." Her glowing blue veins pulsed faintly, casting a faint luminescence around her. "They said my blood is… special." She wrapped her arms around herself, her posture defensive.
"Special?" Max echoed, his curiosity piqued.
Lynara nodded but didn't elaborate. Her eyes darted to the door, as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment.
"Well, we've all got something that makes us 'special,'" Tarren said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be here."
Max leaned forward slightly. "What is this place? What do they want?"
"They want what they always want," Tarren replied bitterly. "Power. Control. We're just ingredients to them—pieces of some grand puzzle they're trying to put together."
Grall finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Most don't last long. They use you until you're spent, then toss what's left."
Max's fists clenched. `This place is worse than I thought.` He looked at each of them in turn. "How long have you all been here?"
Tarren scratched at one of the scales on his neck. "A few months, maybe? Time's a blur in here."
"Weeks," Lynara whispered. "But it feels like longer."
Grall shrugged. "Years."
Max's eyes narrowed. "And no one's tried to escape?"
Tarren let out a hollow laugh. "Escape? You're kidding, right? Look around. Do we look like we're in any condition to fight our way out?"
Before Max could reply, the heavy door to the chamber creaked open. Two guards stepped in, their dark armor gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"E-3183," one of them barked, his voice devoid of emotion. "Your turn." He glanced at Max.
Max's eyes flicked toward Tarren, who gave him a grim nod. "Good luck, vampire."
The guards approached Max, their movements precise and mechanical. They unlocked the chains securing him to the floor and hauled him to his feet. He didn't resist, knowing it would be futile—for now. Instead, he glanced back at the others.
"Don't get too comfortable," he said, his tone laced with determination. "This isn't over."
Tarren smirked faintly. "We'll see."
...
As Max was led out of the chamber, the door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the muffled voices of the others. The guards marched him down a dimly lit corridor, their armored boots echoing ominously against the stone walls. The air grew colder with each step, and faint noises—distant screams, metallic clangs, and guttural growls—filtered through the oppressive silence.Max's crimson eyes darted around, taking in every detail. The corridor opened into a larger chamber lined with cells. Inside, he caught glimpses of others like him—or worse. One cell held a man whose arms were replaced by chitinous claws, his eyes glowing faintly with a sickly green hue. Another contained a creature that was little more than a mass of pulsating flesh, its multiple mouths murmuring incoherent words.
The guards pulled him past the cells and through another heavy door. Beyond it lay a sterile room illuminated by harsh, artificial lights. The walls were lined with shelves filled with vials of strange substances and instruments that looked like they belonged in a torture chamber. In the center of the room stood a metal table with restraints, its surface gleaming under the light.
"E-3183, lie down," one of the guards commanded, his tone devoid of any emotion.
Max hesitated, his gaze flicking to the table. "What if I say no?"
The guard didn't respond. Instead, he raised a device that crackled with energy, a clear threat. Max gritted his teeth and climbed onto the table, his movements slow and deliberate. The restraints snapped shut around his wrists and ankles, locking him in place.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—the cloaked individual who had purchased him. Their hood obscured their face, but their voice was cold and clinical.
"Let's see what secrets you're hiding, little vampire."