Chapitre 12: 11. Hello.
I woke up to when someone was feeling me up. I remained still because this was not one researcher. I heard Adam's voice or actually smelled him. The pear and the other men smelled of lemon and lime. I listened to the men's voices talking about my condition and what they were supposed to do to me. How troublesome I would be. I held myself still and didn't react in any way when one man groped me through even though I knew I had stitches and wounds and felt the pain but didn't let it show.
The men then moved a little further away to talk and put extra blankets over me. Well, I wasn't cold, and I was normally a cooler air loving person, so I had to control myself not to snatch the blankets off me right away. They felt suffocating and heavy.
I worked quietly and efficiently, and all the cannulas and drip tubes were gone in less than a minute. I was able to keep my movements small and unobtrusive. Or so I assumed. I noticed I wasn't tied up.
"This is your funeral." I thought gloomily.
I felt my rage rise to the surface and help me get this damn drug out of my head. My head was aching and dizzy, I was mildly nauseous, and I could smell the food, but I wasn't hungry, not at all. I knew I should eat because I had lost weight and a lot. I remembered bits and pieces of some procedure and I had the idea that I had to be made weak in some way for something to work properly. But my memories and recollections were fuzzy at best.
The men sat on the sofa, chatting quietly after finally leaving Mimi to sleep. Bran looked at Samuel, who was clearly in his thoughts, and knew that although Samuel was a doctor, a healer, that was not all that Samuel was. Sometimes, he wanted to be a killer, not a healer, and it could well be that if Mimi was treated in the same way, it might get Samuel's killer instincts to surface too, but now he had no access to the power of Marrok which he could have used to restrain Samuel with ease.
Adam said: " She's awake, and she's already disconnected from all the hoses. She thinks she's being sneaky. She's a quick one, I'll give her that, and she's got her temper on. "
Adam's voice came closer. "You might as well open your eyes and come in here and have something to eat."
"All right. I'm awake then. Where did you see that?" I muttered and crawled up.
Fucking stitches. I considered ripping them off for a moment, but they were in a place I had a hunch I might regret afterward. They stung and pinched nastily, but I let them do their job for now. For some reason, my wounds healed quickly, quicker than they should have, but then again, I had been rejuvenated by whichever serum, so I had learned to accept everything and not wonder too much.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a while and then carefully got up; not dizzy, excellent. The nausea had gone, too, which meant the rage was doing its job. I was wearing only a patient gown. This wasn't a backless gown; it was a dress of some sort. I walked over to the table to sit down and looked at each man.
I said, "I'm Mimi Springcove; nice to meet you, and I see I've got you in trouble than when you tried to save me. "
Adam was awake and was an even more stunning revelation. He was imposing, strong, and very handsome. I thought that if a man looked like that and spoke to me under other circumstances, I would probably be red as a crab.
Adam said, " Don't blame yourself; you're the victim here, not the culprit; this was our fault, too."
Next to Adam was a blond surfer guy, not quite looking like Chris Brown, the vet, but close.
But I somehow thought the surfer outfit was just a disguise. This surfer gave me a sense of danger, a different kind of danger than Adam, a sense that this one could do pretty much whatever he wanted and not regret it. And somehow, this one wasn't as young as he looked. He didn't look so harmless, either.
The third guy was the tallest. He had bright green eyes and was more plain-looking, but I wanted to make this guy smile for some reason. This was obviously a doctor.
He said, " You've been through quite a change, and all these procedures are not comfortable or painless, but try to take it easy."
All the men exuded strength, instinct, confidence, and deception. Especially Adam. Somehow, he was slightly bent over towards me as if he wanted to get up and come to me, but he controlled himself.
I took one sandwich and ate a piece. Yikes. It was dry and not tasty. I put the sandwich back on the table. I wasn't hungry now, and I felt somehow naked and bare under the scrutinizing gaze of the men. These were werewolves, and I thought they were always observing me, seeing my insecurities, pain, fear, and rage. I felt almost defenseless.
Samuel said: "You have to eat, really. You're really underweight, and whatever they do to you, you won't last if you don't eat. And eat well. I hope you're not one of those vegetarians. "
I said, "I'm not starving. I'm just waking up, and I'll see in a minute if I can get anything down, but that dry bread, yuck, took my little appetite. "
Adam looked at me momentarily and said in his quiet, dangerous voice. "I can always force-feed you; it's no trouble. I'm bigger and stronger, and you little girl has no choice but to eat once I start feeding you."
I replied in a hopefully determined, confident voice. " I'll wash and dress first, then see if I can get anything down. I'm not promising anything yet. I feel dirty, and a good shower will do the trick."
Samuel said, " Those stitches in your stomach, you won't go to any wash or pass out from the pain when the water hits them. Those are fresh and should almost have a bandage on them. But the pain is too much, and you won't be able to take it. The young lady is beginning to learn now that we're going to help you wash and wash your hair, and then you're going to get dressed, properly dressed; you're so damn skinny and under-heated, you may not be hungry for that reason alone. So eat and eat well."
I didn't feel like fighting, so I said, "All right, let's go then. You help me, and I'll see what I can eat and wear something other than this bloody robe. I'm not a fancy lady; my language can be such that you may not be used to hearing it from a woman's mouth. "
And I started walking towards the shower room.
Adam said: " The shower's this way. It's not a shower there. It's a closet. And don't think we're afraid of a few swear words. Or scared of you. Yeah, the vampires told us what you were trying to do, and I could see your willingness to fight, but now you need to learn to think before you act. Your rage helps you act, but it also clouds your judgment, making you unnecessarily reckless and fearless; fear is good; it keeps you safe and sound. "
I sheepishly went to the right place and sat down on the toilet seat. I said nothing about the brief lesson, then decided to be a good girl. I kept my rage on a bit the whole time. I was pissed off at every little thing. Adam came and without further ado, grabbed the robe off me. Samuel took the bandages off my legs and arms; there were big, deep, fucking painful bruises. I was gasping for breath in pain.
"I'm sorry. I'm trying to be gentle, but you have some nasty bruises. They've taken bone marrow samples, and it's not a painless operation," Samuel pointed out.
Eventually, he got all the bandages off. Adam brushed my hair and started to wash it. Bran and Samuel dampened the towels and started to wipe me off very gently. Bran's eyes were almost black, and his expression was tight. The washing felt like heaven, and I didn't think my body was beautiful at the moment. I was more like a skeleton with skin on. The men were gentle but firm, and I especially loved it when my hair was clean.
Samuel said: "Don't mind my father. He doesn't like women being treated like this."
Bran said, "No one should be treated like this. I can only imagine what all the other people have to suffer at their hands."
The wash felt nice, and I didn't even get as cold as I had thought I would. I didn't even realize how much my hair had grown when Adam finally braided it. My braid went all the way down to my shoulder blades. Samuel and Bran wrapped me in a towel, and Adam went through the closets, looking for clothes for me.
After I had put on what felt like a hundred pieces of clothing because there were at least two of everything and because I was so thin, even my pants had to be tied with string to keep them on, the men led me to the table to eat. The extra clothes had the good side of providing padding under my bony arse, and the chair wasn't quite so hard to sit on.
But I wondered what I could get down. I still wasn't that hungry, and somehow, the men's care had put my rage down, so I didn't feel quite as fired up as usual. I was calm, tired, and strangely trusting. Adam was the one I felt most trusting for some reason.
Adam said, "Do you drink coffee?"
" Mmm mmh, " I said yes and walked over to the table to see what I could eat. Samuel made the coffee, and Adam pushed me to sit at the table.
I had a glass of milk and one sandwich with a couple of slices of ham and a leaf of lettuce on top. I ate the sandwich slowly and drank my milk, which was fat free but went down well. The sandwich was quite dry, but I washed it down with the milk. My stomach actually gurgled as the food went in.
"How do you take your coffee?" Samuel asked. "Cream and sugar?" He continued.
I replied, " Actually, aspartame-based sweetener and milk."
Samuel came up to me and said in a brisk voice. "So cream and sugar, and don't even think of continuing to eat that way. Bran and Adam, see, this individual is eating almost a thousand calories and drinking juice or something with more calories than that fucking water milk."
Adam and Bran got to work as instructed and started cramming more sandwiches, some meat, probably some creamed potatoes, and an orange juice can in front of me.
Bran said: "Start eating. Go ahead. I heard your stomach growl when you ate, so start eating it well."
I said, "I can't get all that down. I'm not that hungry." Somehow, the amount of food in front of me seemed overwhelming, and I tried to eat or drink something. Drinking seemed the wiser option.
I sipped the orange juice and coffee that Samuel had brought. Samuel put the food in order in front of me. First, there was a huge steak dripping with fat. Fine, let's try then. Meat is good for you and there are calories in this one and a decent amount of them. I looked at the steak, boldly took a fork and knife, cut a small piece, and chewed long and hard before swallowing. The meat tasted good, but getting it down took time, and I thought I'd be kind to myself and congratulate myself on every bite I could get down.
Adam had had enough and came closer. He took the fork and knife and cut the steak into pieces. Then he started to feed. When I tried to get up from the table, Adam grabbed me in his arms, held me with one hand, and fed me with the other. I finished the whole steak. Bran and Samuel had already chopped up the next meal.
I don't know how many plates Adam force-fed me, but eventually, he said, "Now you have a full stomach."
The sly one had kept his hand on my stomach the whole time, feeling when it was full. I figured I had at least coffee and orange juice because I felt like I had drunk at least a liter of both. We moved to the couch, and I got to sit by myself. Samuel must have poured me at least six cups of coffee with cream and sugar. I felt very full and almost sluggish. Lethargic.
Adam said: "Maybe next time you'd really like to eat for yourself, not that I can feed you."
I said nothing. Then I heard footsteps approaching and got ready for action. I glanced at the possible weapons and made a plan. I took out my rage. There would be a knife on the table. That would be good, I could slash. I didn't think of any consequences; I just reacted in my usual way. I tried to escape. Before I could even tense my muscles, I was back in Adam's arms, who had effortlessly grasped my wrists with one hand and his other hand gripped my body in place.
Bran said: " It does you and us no good to attack everyone. They'll just knock you out and keep you drugged all the time. Is that what you want?"
I replied in a low, agitated voice. "Let me go; I'll always take any chance I get to escape; you never know when you'll get away."
I felt my rage sweep away the last vestiges of fatigue, and the adrenaline made my heart beat harder.
Bran said." Calm down, put your rage down, and think before you act. It's hard to escape if you're unconscious."
Adam said soothingly in my ear. "Calm down. We are in the middle of the ocean. Even if you can escape from this room, how do you think you're going to get out? Maybe you're going to rob a lifeboat and row away. No, the escape has to be planned and thought out. What you need to do now is to be calm and get to know your surroundings. Far too many people are on this ship for us to take over the ship. Violence is not the answer yet."
The door opened, and a group of people entered. Six guards, with stun guns and net throwers at the ready, spread out on either side of the door and pointed their weapons at us. Three cleaners or kitchen staff came with trolleys, collected the dirty dishes, and replaced the clean coffee pot.
Then came this doctor. Fucking chubby one. "Oh, I wonder if you're keeping the wild beast in check? What do you think of the beast? Isn't it a good rage already? There's not much thought in that head when the rage comes out, just as it should, but it's nothing new to you animals. The rage, that is."
He looked at Adam, Samuel, and Bran contemptuously, as if they were lower beings than him.
He couldn't get any reaction out of Adam, who was remarkably calm and almost looked like he didn't even need much strength to hold me down. Bran and Samuel were equally half-indifferent, almost bored. They didn't let the man's fucking hit them.
"Excellent, excellent. Now you can get to know each other for a few days. The chef will come and talk to you somewhere in between."
The doctor approached me and Adam. He looked directly at me.
" You'll get quite a few days of treatment here like everyone else. You shouldn't even try to escape. You won't get far. You can always try, beast, but I can guarantee that soon you'll be too weak to even walk, but then you'll be ready for your new life."
He came up beside me and took a syringe with a needle from his pocket. He removed the needle cover and stuck it into my shoulder.
"Just in case you decide to let go of your grip and see what the beast can do." The fat one said to Adam.
Samuel stood up, and the man backed away a few steps. He took from his pocket some kind of device with green tape. He pressed the button, and suddenly, Samuel fell unconscious to the ground.
"As you can see, you have now been fitted with sedation implants. I won't tell you where, but I can tell you that you can't get them off, you can't even find them. And several of my colleagues have control devices for your implants. One false move, and you're asleep."
His voice was confident and self-satisfied as if he was enjoying himself immensely by having such an upper hand over werewolves.
Meanwhile, three nurses lifted Samuel onto the bed and bound him with metal handcuffs.
The medicine the doctor injected into me began to take effect, and my head began to lean against Adam's shoulder. I tried to fight it, but my rage had no such resistance.
The doctor watched as the target omega was sufficiently sedated before pressing the other two controls. The unconscious men, like Target Omega, were lifted onto their beds and restrained. One by one, the nurses took the men and woman out of the room for the procedure. The woman's immune defense continued to be destroyed and studied to prepare the target for the retrovirus, while the men were examined, sampled and had all the necessary genetic material taken from them.
The nurses knew their lives were cheap if they ever spoke of this ship or these targets...Most of the men who had been involved in these transfers and captures had been shot, those who had been spared had fallen victim to Dr. Kendrick's ruthless brainwashing, and there were usually no survivors. And being brainwashed to live, and after all the drug trials, that was no life. They had seen a few victims and kept their mouths shut and did as they were told.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone