He looked at me, and said, "As you see baby, we have a future together, and it is not so bad, I can be a decent guy when I want to, I am not a monster all the time, this is just part of me and maybe you can teach me to love you."
I said nothing. I am a goddamn pretender, so one of my knacks was telling when someone lied and these spewed lies one after another. So no thank you, there will be no happy future for him and me, only I will find a way to get rid of him. Pain and agony that ravaged me, had taken already a lot out of me. My belly was not getting any smaller yet and my skin was super sensitive.
He unchained me and lifted me into his arms. That hurt too as my skin felt everything and he dug his fingers into my skin, making my mind go blank from pain as the sensation and torture of pain overwhelmed my mind completely. He rubbed my stomach as he spoke.
"There, there baby, well, feel it all of it, just feel it, oh I love to see you in such pain,"
His voice was soothing, but his words were so freaking creepy. I was in so much pain I could do nothing. Sweat poured out of me, and moans and cries of pain erupted from my lips as he manipulated my body when he carried me to be tortured even more.
He carried me to the first machine and put me in. The cold steel mesh dug into my very sensitized skin and he trussed me against it, with belts that went over my thighs and my chest. That one had spiked chains, too.
He took my wrist and pressed those damn spikes into my wrists.
He explained, "These spikes are hollow, and there is a drug in reserve that will pour into your tissues. I need to press these spikes properly into your wrists so that my little concoctions will be absorbed and affect you."
He closed the lid, so I was trapped in. I was inside the machine, and my head was a kind of support outside the machine.
He remarked, "This is so much fun as now I see your face, in pain, in agony, and it just makes this so much fun." Then he put the machine on.
His voice was satisfied as he got on explaining what I would have to suffer next. "This is a device that looks at your internal organs. I've now programmed the machine to start breaking down your organs slowly and pleasurably. It injects everything into them. This device injects, but it now focuses on your organs. We'll see when we switch to the next device. You get a few substances on your wrists too. It affects the function of your fingers. I want to make you a little more helpless."
Blades and injectors sank into my flesh, and hot pain poured inside me. Throbbing agony started on my wrists, spreading in my palms and my fingers, and then it seeped upwards. I could feel my fingers contracting into fists, almost. The pain was excruciating. The sensation of agony and anguish the device caused was incredible.
I didn't think I could have been any harder pain than the jelly in my bowels caused me to be, but the device made every organ in my body just about scream in pain. My skin was inflamed, and hot pain was everywhere with such intensity that it made any kind of thinking impossible.
I could feel my heart pounding, and it hurt, too. Probes were inside my chest, and my lungs, making me gasp I had arrhythmias, and my liver was a throbbing mess of ripping dull aches. My kidneys seemed to be almost liquified, because the pain moved, and spread everywhere, my bladder was full of tantalizing agony, and the pain made me vomit but as my esophagus was in treatment, nothing came out, only a burning sensation spread inside my chest as my esophagus was ripped apart and stomach acid poured into my chest cavity, I was causing myself even more pain.
Pain once again was my life, my everything, and I was helpless to do anything other than feel this anguish ripping my very being apart. My body could not take it anymore, but the machine kept my tissues alive, so the pain didn't ease up at any time. It only got worse when all my mental protection and my determination to survive and hang on, were dismayed by insistent pain, and torment, leaving me messed up and unable to react, only moaning huskily, tears stung my eyes but I did not sense those.
The machine was relentless, and I don't even know what substances it was putting in me, but I do know that at some point, I blacked out because the next thing I knew; I was waking up on a steel table again, chained to spiked cuffs that tore my painfully contracted hands and wrists, Damon watching me with satisfaction. There was again stuff dripping in my cannula as I got my vision working even a bit. Some bags were almost empty, so I had been at the table for a while.
He went to his dictation machine and started to dictate as there were still bags to dripping into my body, my belly was somewhat smaller but pain was still there, everywhere in my body. I was full of bruises, black and deep ones, those kinds that come from internal bleeding.
His voice was clinical. "The subject has been in machine one, to be treated in her internal organs for 22 hours. The subject has multiple internal bleeds and most of her organs have not yet recovered fully, the subject has received now 12 bags of substances four and nine, and five bags of substance two. Dripping is commenting and once these bags are done, the subject will be put to treatment for her skeleton. Her wrists and palms have been treated so her tendons are shrinking, pulling her fingers into fists, so she cannot use them. Rage has been dealt with by initial sedative jelly and rage blocker and some go to multiplication enzyme. My goal is to use all the treatments efficiently and in the maximum amount of time while getting a decent amount of substances into her. My prediction of how long the subject can take this is about ten to twelve weeks and then I will commence pre-planned recovery treatment for her and study its efficiency, too."
He shut the dictation machine with a click. He typed something on his laptop and then walked to one shuttle. This was fully encasing, meaning I would be again in darkness. It was also a lot bigger than the rest of them. He read something on panels, pressed a few buttons, and checked something out. He opened it fully.
He came at me and took the bags off my cannula as they were empty now. He pressed my belly, causing me to scream, but it was as if my lungs weren't working so freaking well.
He said, "The next machine will take care of your bones, then. As you can see, the jelly in your bowels is starting to ease up a bit, so you can take more. We've still got a lot to go through. "
He picked me up; he had that apron on, and he carried me to that machine. Now he secured my limbs to some kind of rods and put belts over my body, too. My skin was still very sensitive. I was tired. He strapped a tight, heavy belt over my still very painful stomach, making me gasp and cry out.
He said mockingly, "Come on baby, this little thing hasn't yet started and you are moaning. Try to suck it up. You are stronger than this."
When he had finished securing me, he shut the lid, encompassing me into the darkness where was only pain, torture, and smell of my pain, blood, sweat, piss. This machine crushed my bones over and over and slowly. I could feel the steel clamping around my arm, and the pressure increased until the bone gave way.
Now and then, the machine would break my bones. Sometimes it squeezed., sometimes it twisted. It caused unbelievable pain, and I passed out from time to time only to wake up again in agony. It broke my bones, causing all sorts of break mechanisms that there is how can human bone break; it did all to me. Many fragments of bones pushed through my skin.
It could grab my wrist and start to twist it as the rest of my hand was locked tightly in place until again the bone broke. I finally lost consciousness with this device, too. For a long time. When I came to, I was again in table bags dripping into me, my chest was crushed, my bones were mush, I had open fractures everywhere, my spine was out of alignment, and pain tore through me, through my body, making me shudder, not even understanding a now word about what Damon spoke.
He dictated again once he had walked around the table and kept his monologue on, now I had no sense of what he was saying, I could see the enjoyment in his face, hear it in the tone of his voice but the actual message never came through, I had no sense of time I could feel weakening of my body, my weight plummeting, my soul crushed, my fighting spirit crushed by sheer pain and agony, by my helplessness and his cold clinical enjoying gaze as he saw what shape I was.
The next device stimulated my nervous system, it caused so much pain that I was most of the time out cold or in some kind of vegetative state where the pain was less and I was hardly aware of my surroundings, Damon was less happy about that and he used stimulants so I could not withdraw into my mind to be safe from the pain. Agony, torture, mental and physical were everything that there was. No other thoughts were on my mind.
I endured it for as long as I could, but I had no sense of time, and then he switched me from one device to another, never telling me what was next, so the devices came randomly. I woke up sometimes on the table and sometimes on the device. My whole body was torn to pieces, slowly and methodically, by these hellish machines, but this was not the organized thing.
He put me in the machine, pressed a few buttons and the machine tore me apart, then when he changed the machine or dripped those poisons in me he dictated in what shape I was like he had no idea and this was all just a test to him. I just noticed how he was enjoying himself and absolutely enjoying himself. He was conducting whatever this poisoning was, but most important for him was my pain and agony, my weakening, my destruction, how helpless I was, how weak, crushed.
He gave no mercy. He had at least five different machines that he used on me, plus then several poisons by snakes and other critters, as he knew how they affected me, and how they would use up all of my healing. And then this fake tenderness of how he brushed my hair out of my face and enjoyed it when I flinched and moved my head away from his touch.
Time after time, just as my strength began to wane, his pleasure seemed to increase. He was destroying my organs, my muscles, my bones. He didn't drug me in any way. No, he just used poisons and toxins, so the pain would be as bad as it could be. Often, I would pass out from pain and shock, so he controlled me with sheer pain. I knew I had lost weight by leaps and bounds.
My healing abilities had been tested, and he liked to experiment. He could put me on the machine, randomly put the settings any way he wanted, and then see what the machine did. Yes, the equipment did. And he got to dictate what shape I was.
Then he might explain to me how this helps his work in the future as he now understands how to use these machines better, so I am a little like a test subject too. He did all kinds of very creepy things, talking about things, my situation, my body, what he was going to do next, and how he would now change the settings and see will it would make much of a difference.
Now I was shivering on the table in the cold. I was again on IV and those damn bags drained inside me. Damon came up beside me and brushed my hair away from my forehead. I flinched and tried to move away.
He said, " Baby, I think you have an infection. But not yet. I want you to be my challenge to take care of. And remember. The lesson continues. I'll get you better, but no sleeping now. I'll keep you chained to the bed. We need to get you in much worse than this, then I will get my challenge and you get your lesson. It will be so pleasurable to see you lying in bed, chained by spiked shackles, and know that you are fully dependent on me, and the care that I provide for you. Of course, it is your behavior that orders what kind of treatment and care I will give you, so you will learn to take the correct attitude and be properly thankful for everything I do for you."
He continued to torture me for an incredibly long time, or so it seemed, by subjecting me to machine after machine, increasing the brutality of the settings, administering more poisons, inflicting more pain, and giving me numerous stimulants to keep me awake and accelerate my body and metabolism, causing me to lose weight, my condition, and my strength.
Then he came to me again when I was exhausted on the table, covered with wounds, while one machine was cutting and slashing my skin and my muscles with different blades. I had no energy to shake; I had no fever, my vision was blurry, the pain messed my mind up, and I could smell everything, and understand most of the time what was going on. He hadn't cleaned a single machine in all this time, and I knew, I could smell every time he put me back on the machine, how many germs every machine was teeming with. My gut was crushed and I knew how nasty bugs I had in there, so whatever infection or infections I had, they were nasty.
He said, " Now, now you're in for a challenge. Let's see now. We've got sepsis, you're not keeping your temperature, you're full of deep festering sores, you've got organ problems, you've lost weight and a lot of it. Your bones are not healing. I don't hear much of a heartbeat. You are pale and lethargic. I bet you weigh less than 25kg. Now you're a challenge. But one more thing before we get on. I need to make sure that there are no shortcuts in your recovery."
He took an ampoule and syringe, drew the drug into the syringe, and injected it into his vein, then he took collectors, put them in his teeth and stuff was pouring out, he poured liters of stuff, and he poured everything down the drain as his teeth were empty, then he gave me same stuff and empty my teeth too, it made my head hurt even more and he destroyed my stuff too. It drained the rest of my little energy that I had.
He wrapped me in a moldy blanket and carried me back to the trunk of the car. He tucked me in there and put some kind of canisters so I was in a very uncomfortable position. I gasped in agony. He started driving and drove for a long time. I managed to sleep for a while, or else I passed out from the pain.
Eventually, the car stopped. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, and pain was the only thing that kept me awake. He came and opened the trunk, and picked me up, all wrapped up in this moldy, smelly blanket that was rough and hurt my skin. I could feel my open sores throbbing as mold rubbed into them. Mold-caused skin infections are difficult to treat, and I was in terrible shape. I got worse by the minute.
I had just enough energy to open my eyes as the chilly night air hit my face as he walked into the house. I recognized the Michigan house. I knew it wasn't a very fancy medbay around here. But this one had now made it his life's work to torture me so much for the good times. While I was going to recover from this, I knew a little separation might be in order.
The pain and the whole shed session messed me up and once again, there was no Damien, only Damon who had hurt me and a long time, brutally, while enjoying it. I needed my time, but when and how? I just wasn't sure how to do it. He carried me off to Medbay and put me in the spiked cuffs and it did not take the moldy blanket out from under me.
He just opened it and let all the open sores on my back be against those moldy spots and whatever else seeped into this rough blanket. He had gotten me tiny spiked cuffs so that my skeletal wrist was tightly clasped. He once again pressed them carefully in my flesh so they were tight around my wrists are hot throbbing pain started to run in my arms and my palms too.
He said. " We were in the shed for over two months, eleven weeks. Isn't that quite a long time? Yes, I have strengthened you well."
Unbelievable. He tortured me for over two months. He went on first to eat himself and put a sheet over my naked body. The sheet was turning red and yellow with blood and pus from these sores. He said nothing. He just left to eat and go shower, to freshen up.
He came back much later and took the sheet off. He had put scrubs on and a plastic apron, three pairs of gloves, and he took some swabs, and saline and came to clean my wounds. He poured saline concentrate into the bowl and got water from a spigot to it, diluting it, but he measured nothing.
As he poured saltwater into my wound, I screamed from pain; He got up with a huff, took a dental syringe, and came at me, paralyzing my vocal cords as he continued to pour saltwater in my wounds, then tapping them with swabs, not gentle and careful manner, he didn't even cleaned them fully. He did that just to hurt me.
He cannulated me and put me on pure saline drip or some drug that made me feel very confused and helpless, not sedating but just tiring me out. Wound cleaning continued, he pressed and pushed, as he removed pus out of them but not much as he hated my secretions, I had a diaper because he didn't want to catheterize me, and empty the bag, my pee was something that repulsed him, as all of my bodily fluids.
He put my bones in some sort of alignment, and he took a lot of breaks. I was most of the time alone, seeing the IV stand, the cannula was now on my elbow, so I saw that all the time. And then, on top of that. I had wounds he had to clean; it was done without painkillers, or if he gave me something, it was about the equivalent of human ibuprofen. It helped a little. Day after my condition got worse, and he cursed, he was upset as his ministrations wouldn't get me any better and I was more and more out of it, not really reacting, and his grand plan to get me in shape slowly didn't really work at all.
He had paralyzed my voice box so I wouldn't scream so much. I had a diaper on because my bowels were leaking all the time. He had me catheterized, eventually because I made no pee and he could feel my bladder being full of concentration, but he didn't have to change the bag very often. He gave me very dilute nutrient solutions and didn't use his blood at any time.
Daily he came at me, pressed hard on my lower belly, on my bladder and thick bloody concentrated urine seeped into the catheter. It was often more or less blocked, but he enjoyed causing me pain. I was most of time out of it unless he was not torturing me.
Just dressing the wounds made them throb for hours. It was as if he had the knowledge and theoretical skill to do what needed to be done, but a complete lack of empathy and caring. He cleaned nothing very carefully or properly. It was like he didn't bother to do it. He was a cold, distant clinician and enjoyed how weak, helpless, and in pain I was.
He didn't monitor my condition or ensure care I was warm enough. He didn't give me caffeine or blood to drink. He was not so dexterous as usual and his grips were painful, his handling of instruments clumsy. It was like he knew what he was supposed to be doing but had no hands-on expertise. It was like he was a first-year medical student.
He had used his hands to hurt, not heal, so he had no idea. I could see that he was angry, as this is not going as it should. first of all I was too silent, too out of it, not begged him or talked at him. I was just being there. Getting weaker so there was no gratitude in me, no pleading for him to continue and I did not tell him what to do, i could have, but I chose not to.
Then Samuel came to visit with Colin. As he heard them coming, he went to the drug cabinet, took out some drugs, drew them into a syringe, and came and pressed it into my cannula. My mind went blurry and my eyes were heavy. He took the clean sheet and put it over me. Then he tried to make everything look like he actually was treating me.
I heard men come in and Damon tried to get them to leave, telling them I was asleep and weak still. And oh, how he put on a show. He explained to them how he tried to fix me when his rage led to him torturing me. He told them how he had gotten enraged with me when I didn't want to spice up our sex life by getting a few more girls on. How I had attacked him and called then Jarod and complained to him about my husband.
But neither Colin nor Samuel believed him after Samuel and Damon had gone to the other end of the medbay to talk about me.
Colin came up to me and said, "Damon's not well, is he? Don't worry. We'll get him to Dresden, or Dresden will be here. He'll want to curse you for being infertile, but just keep eating those contraceptives, anyway. Young lady, your straps are not fine and you are almost in a critical state."
I was a little more lucid and said to Colin, my voice was weak but I did get some out, "Colin that is Damien, smell him, wet dog, astray, could your leprechaun sense him, is he different from Damon, because he has no skills to care for me, he has a theory but no practice, I suspect he is his own person and he is somehow put inside Damon's mind."
I was so damn tired all the time. Not much strength for me to be awake.
Colin frowned. He got very tense, as he glanced at Damien. Once again I smelled fresh grass, and clovers in the sun, and his pupils were four-leaved clovers as he said, his leprechaun said, "Child, rest now, you need to rest, that is evil being. I can sense it, but I cannot help you with your quest of removing him. He is not your husband, but a close one. Beware, child, he can manipulate your mind too."
Colin shuddered, and he was normal. He blinked a few times, patted my shoulder, and said, "Rest, your straps are really cranky."
I watched as Colin went behind Damon and quickly took and snapped his neck. Then they carried Damon out of the medbay. I was thinking of trying to sleep as throbbing pain all over me was easing or then I was just getting so much weaker.
After some time, Samuel returned and came up to me and said, " First things first. Where does it hurt the most? You are very weak, and Damon's treatment was already getting on your straps and badly. Luckily we happened to come here when Dresden was asking where you were and I happened to catch up with the Salvatore. Do you believe he first said you were in New Mexico, but Dresden did a trace on the day, so he was a little surprised when we got here? But I have a feeling that you, my lady, are going to get some rest and then I'm going to get you well. You need some serious work, I see."
I said, "It was Damien, not Damon. He tortured me for eleven weeks. But I try to remind myself that it was Damien, not Damon, but god that is hard. He can be so Damon like, it is downright creepy."
Samuel said, "Now don't think about it. Try to rest. Nothing bad is gonna happen anymore. We got you. Let's get you now little more comfortable."
Samuel walked over to the medicine cabinet and began to curse harshly. He came over to me and said, "Little delay. it seems there's no medicine to put you to sleep, but don't worry, I've got some painkillers in the car."
I said," I saw him flush some drugs down the drain and he has the substance that he used to empty his teeth and mine too, so no dentals."
Samuel stomped off, muttering something. It sounded like a very long and quite inventive string of very harsh and descriptive curse words aimed at Salvatore and his person and also his body, too. I was amazed that gentle Samuel knew that kind of language.
I was still lying in the restraints, helpless, weak, tired, tortured. And I knew I couldn't punish Damon for this if he got on the surface and got Damien under control because he couldn't always help himself. When he got upset or blamed himself, that gave Damien the power to get on the surface and do this kind of torture. I just had to keep believing in good times.
I hated my state of being; I saw damn IV stand, felt these damn shackles on my wrists, this moldy blanket that was still under me, I could feel how full of something my diaper was once again, my powerless my body was when I looked my body, I was a skeleton with skin on. My skin was on fire, there was so much pain all over me.
Samuel finally came back with the syringe and said, "This will help with the pain, at least for a couple of hours, so I can get you transferred to somewhere where I have some medicine."
I was silent for a moment, and then I remembered. I said, " Well, we have warehouses where they've brought in medicines from the pharmaceutical facilities. One warehouse is about 5 kilometers from this house. Is there anything there? You have seen a few of these lots that we have acquired, the nearest base is about a 45-minute drive, and there will be drugs to put me out, but this warehouse is closer, The keys are in my bag, it is that little green plastic flag what opens the warehouse door."
Samuel rubbed his chin and said, "I'll go and have a look, but now I'm going to give you this medicine. Will you suffer trying to sleep, or will you have nightmares? Your straps are very weak and you are in a critical state. Did Damon give you anti-hibernation? " I shook my head.
I said, " Take these shackles off my wrists. They hurt too."
Samuel lifted the blanket and saw the spiked chains only then. His eyes were yellow when he looked at me. Then he twisted the chains open, got some bandages from the cupboard, and bandaged my wrists. He gave me an anti-hibernation drug and turned me gently on my side so he could inject it into my brain. Then he put a pain relief injection in my cannula and pressed the plunger. The pain stopped or lessened considerably, and I felt how powerless I was. I let my eyes close and fell asleep.
Damon could feel himself returning to normal or getting a good grip on himself. He felt Damien fall asleep or go down. But he also remembered everything he did to Mimi, including the treatment, and he knew he had gone too far. Now he couldn't. Eleven weeks and that stunt with Adam and Mimi's heat and when he had brought those whores in the house and fucked them.
He had no right to interfere with her care. Even if it had been Damien, how did he feel it, too? Was Damien just part of him? He felt and remembered too much, also Mimi's revulsion when he had brushed her hair out of her forehead. He didn't say a word, he just went and drove away. On the way, he called a couple of women already. He needed to unload, to forget. He was a sick bastard and Mimi deserved better than him.
Damien was happy, even Dresden's potion put him to sleep he knew that once he would be awakened, things would carry on, the damage had been already done, he could feel it in Damon's mind and a few little hints so that Damon went to fuck women and not care for Mimi.
When Damon cared for Mimi or fixed what he broke, it gave Damon power because it was Damon's purpose, to mend what he took apart and that was something he just prevented. When he prevented Damon fulfill his purpose, he weakened him. Keeping Damon out of the picture would have also an effect on Mimi. Mimi would drift closer to Adam, causing her and Damon's love to take a good hit.
When Samuel came back with the drugs, Colin and Dresden told him how Damon had just driven off. Samuel rolled his eyes. But fine. He'll fix Mimi without Salvatore. He used the drugs and made sure Mimi was under a deep anesthetic, then asked Charles to fly them to Chicago.
Now, Mimi would rest in the incubator, and he and Colin would take care of her alone. Mimosa and Mirella were fine but asleep. Samuel found this interesting: Damon never wanted to hurt either of those two, just Mimi. Samuel and Colin talked a lot about Damien, too. How this could be prevented, and how could they help Damon?
But once again Samuel knew Damon was a rat race of self-blame, and self-loathing, giving unwillingly Damien power. He and Colin weren't sure that could Damien actually corrupt Damon. Could he influence Damon so much that Damon would become a monster himself, too?
Mimi was kept asleep, and slowly but surely, Samuel got her better. It was difficult as the moldy blanket had gotten sores on her back in a terrible state and Mimi had to be turned every few hours because the whole girl was one big wound. Mimi's bones were in splints first and Damon's blood seemed to help. Samuel had it limited supply though, so he healed only the most critical wounds with that.
First two weeks he and Colin lived in Medbay, Colin had his supply of leprechaun substances that he gave her through a feeding button in her stomach. Mimi was operated on in the third week and her organs were replaced with those obtained from Adam. They strengthened Mimi's straps, fed her, and gave her as much as her fragile system could absorb.
It was most important to keep her fully pain-free and sedated, in a deep, dreamless state, so her straps got stronger. Day by day, her body began to heal, sores scabbed over, and infection started to lose its grip. Mimi got weight and was less skeletal and weak.
After eight weeks in Chicago, Samuel and Colin knew Mimi could safely wake up. They had done extremely hard work and both of them were tired but extremely happy. Mimi was not in the best shape, but she was infection-free, healed, and she was well enough to start waking up.
There had been no word from Damon other than a few rumors Salvatore was in a shagging mood again, and the ladies were getting a ride. Samuel wanted so badly to shout at Damon, but what good would that do? Worst-case scenario, he would throw a hissy fit. Damien would wake up, and then Dresden would be back in business.
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GOT IT