Chapitre 217: 16. White Flag.
The feeling that I was being stalked and chased continued in my mind; Damon wasn't talking anymore in my head, and the pressure continued, but I had evolved, and now I wasn't willing to be a victim. Even though I went to the store, I felt like Damon was there, even though I didn't see him inside the house.
Every time I woke up, there was a black rose on the bedside table, and I had some medicine in me. The syringe was always neatly left on the table. There would be no point in running away. Adam and Samuel were swearing, and neither of them could get to me because it was such a bad alpha crisis. Some alpha had gone completely mad and was now attacking everyone.
Even though he was pushing, chasing, and stalking, the panic that came over me wasn't on all the time, as I learned to control myself. It was hard, but I did it. And the whole effort was worth it, as I felt a slight irritation from him in my head at not being such a perfect victim.
Now, it had been a week of stalking and chasing, and I was already in full panic mode, nervous, not sleeping, if not completely restraining myself, but deep down, I was letting my developing anger towards Damon grow.
I knew that even though this was his reaction; he had never explained to me directly what the fuck he and the originals had a problem with each other. Or at least he had with them because, from what I had gathered from Nick's talk as a pretender when I had analyzed him, he didn't hate Damon at all.
He didn't see it as a threat, and I wondered if there could be a reason for it, but even though I had told Jarod this, he couldn't say for sure either. I knew it was another jealousy thing, and on the other hand, I wanted to explode with rage, but the safe place I had created in my head, the hiding place where Damon couldn't get in, well, I raged there.
A voice in my head said, " You should try to get some rest, darling. I want you to be at full strength for your lesson."
I didn't even bother to answer. I tried to watch everywhere and all the time. I was on the move, and no, I couldn't see where the fuck the whole fucking guy was. I was in one room when there was a crack. I turned around, but nothing. I went into the kitchen and now I heard somebody fall from somewhere. I was alert.
The same thing went on for three days. Noises, distinct noises that Damon was in the house, and yet I never saw him. I was in the kitchen, and I looked out the window because I had just heard another noise outside. My hands were shaking now from sheer nervousness.
I didn't know why this was happening to me. I'm immortal. Nothing can happen to me. I'll be fine, but the anxiety didn't ease. Then I got fed up and packed my bags and drove to Arkansas when I looked at the gigs and there was a shortage of people. I protected myself and go to the gig to be around quite a fucking lot of people all the time.
Arkansas was a big place for us; there were well over 100 fleas in the base every day, and once I got the gig attitude on then, the anxiety and pressure took a back seat again.
A sinister voice said irritably in my head, "Don't think, darling, you'll be safe for long. Your lesson is going to be brutal, painful, and very educational, and it's going to happen."
Yeah, I thought in my mind, then it will, but for now, I'm concentrating on the gigs and venting my anger at them. I was actually pleased as I approached our base. I would get to do gigs with Harrison after a long time and he was a really reliable man in his position.
When I arrived at the base, I went inside. There was the usual hustle and bustle but a bit more chaos than normal; I started to put things in order and then after a few hours had a quick visit to my office as I hadn't had time to go there yet.
On my desk was a note and a phone. It said, "I quit, Harrison."
it was Harrison's work phone, and one man, a medic, Otto, came in talking about something and said, " Oh, yeah, Harrison left three weeks ago."
So this wasn't Damon's doing. Fine; Harrison had really left.
I put the phone in the drawer, put the note in the trash, focused and said, " So what's up?"
Otto gave me more enzyme data that had been collected, as well as a file that had been found in the medical files, on me. I quickly went through it, remembered the tests, and then put it in the safe to be.
I was on base for three days, yes anxiety was in my mind all the time but I found that when I concentrated on the job I could control myself, but I knew I couldn't do the job for the rest of my life and Damon is so stubborn he's going to do something to me, but I wasn't going to be a frightened easy victim now.
Then we got a gig. This was a rescue or destruction gig, and for me, it was pretty damn personal because this was a Krycheck facility, so I was in on the job. There would only be two rescuers, me and Hannah. She would deal with the transporters while I would get the people awake.
This one didn't have too many victims, by our estimate, less than 20, but even they had to be rescued. We had a good number of destroyers and collectors because the meds and information about this place were very important. We planned the job in 24 hours; we knew where to hit and at night.
I sat in my study and read through the paper one last time, then sighed and leaned back in my chair. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to calm my mind completely. Something about this gig gave me a bad feeling. I tried to get it out of my head.
It wasn't like me to anticipate anything, and then when I wasn't quite alert because of Damon, I didn't even think that my premonitions could come from a Mimosa, but then again, it wouldn't have been any use even if I had known.
I sighed and saw from the wall clock that it would soon be time to gear up. I then went to get dressed. There were actually 22 of us for this gig: five collectors, five movers, two rescuers, and ten destroyers. There was no formula for what quality we were going to bring to the gig, it was decided on a per gig basis.
I felt my mind calm down as it always did when we went to a gig, and at the same time the adrenaline was flowing, Otto was there too, our doctor and he was one of the collectors, it was good to have a doctor with you if possible and there were only a few doctors that I knew of that wanted to be on the gig.
I then went to get dressed, I had my own locker, and I started pulling my gear on, headset in my ear, microphone on my collar, watch on my wrist, all my safety gear on, guns, tranquilizers too, and then off we went.
We got there. It wasn't fenced, but there were cameras and tripwires so the destroyers could get to work while we waited our turn. It was a dark night.
The moon's narrow crescent didn't light up much and the heavy clouds that had been in the sky since daylight hadn't really moved, so we couldn't see the stars. This was another very poorly lit building as they had nested here secretly, so couldn't put proper outside lights and a fence around the building.
I breathed deeply and calmly; the pressure was still on my mind, even harder than before and it made me think somehow that really? Damon wouldn't be the right man for the fleas, as well as he might have been, but I didn't know all his sides.
So our differences of opinion on these studies and experiments were now the biggest dividing factor, and I knew I was doing the right thing and I didn't want someone in this job who didn't fully believe in it.
There was a whistle again, and we ran behind the building to the fire door and up to the fourth floor. Here I couldn't use the drone because there were cameras on the poles and it would have been too difficult to move the drone without it getting caught in the camera. I would have had to aim the drone so high that the thermal cameras wouldn't have worked so well.
We went inside and I went to the next floor, where some of the victims were. Otto and a few collectors came to the same floor to see what they could find. I crept down a quiet corridor, no guards anywhere to be seen, and I couldn't even hear the hum of the machines.
The disinfectants and hospital stench went through my nostrils, reminding me where I was. The menacing pressure in my mind added an even creepier note as memories began to flood my mind, and I suddenly felt a satanic telepath rummaging around in my head, thinking how wicked he really was when he pulled those memories out, the ones he had dispelled in time.
So he could use my memories as weapons. Fine, I decided there and then that no more dispelling of memories. I need to keep them in my mind, not let such weapons in Damon's hands.
At the other end of the corridor was a patient room, and I opened the first door carefully. There was a woman sleeping in bed; she was on an IV, tied to the bed, and when I approached her to wake her up, she startled awake and started moving rhythmically while mumbling something.
I couldn't make out what. I tried to talk to her. But she ignored me. A large scar ran across her forehead and I gave her a cursory examination. Physically, she seemed fine but mentally.
I said into my microphone because now I wasn't sure what to do with this, " Flea Leader to the doctor. Can I have a consultation? There are survivors here, but they are damaged."
Otto replied, "Roger that. I'm on my way"
After a moment, Otto came in; I stepped back as he looked through the woman, examined the other victims in the room, motioned me aside, and said, " These victims are lost cause. There is no one here. These are living dolls. Easier to manage and use in tests. I guess Krycheck will sell some of these to other facilities, ready-made victims. They have had major brain surgery, lobotomies, and, worse, extensive brain damage, and these will not recover, not even with vampire blood or your blood. We can't help them; the best thing for them to do is end their suffering, and when we blow up, they will meet a relatively fast and painless end. "
I nodded and knew what I had to do.
I said, " Go ahead, I'll take care of these. "
I touched the bag of medicine with the sedatives in it and let him assume I was just stunning the victims. He left.
I just didn't have enough meds with me to kill them all, so I approached the first victim, tried to calm her, grabbed her neck, slid my hand under her head, and, twisted once, broke her neck.
When her expression was calm, dead, I took a picture. If she had relatives, this would be better than showing them the truth. I continued moving from one bed to another, doing everyone the same favor, and protecting my mind so that Damon wouldn't even suspect what I was doing. There were eight rooms, six people per room, and no hope.
It helped a little when I heard that 16 victims had been found elsewhere and rescued and lots of information and medicine. This was a quick job, and I kept myself completely under control. I didn't even sedate the victims, I just put them out of their misery by snapping their necks and taking a picture.
Then I was done, and we pulled out of there. I saw the corridors were full of dead guards and there were a couple of them in the yard. This one had been quite a frenzy when I had done my job.
We got to the car; the building shook and started to collapse as the powerful explosives did their job, as always, there was enough evidence left so that the authorities would have a reason and then these chemicals would make life harder for the bad guys when they got the wrong attention.
I was numb. I didn't know what to feel other than disappointment that I hadn't saved anyone. I killed, murdered in cold blood, and remembered how I had killed those werewolves, Ben. I questioned my decision so many times on the way to the base, but I didn't let anyone see the fight inside, the self-reproach, the feeling of powerlessness and helplessness that I knew was all my own and not from Damon.
We arrived at the base, then we unloaded the car, and I went to unpack my gear first. When I got inside, I contained my reaction as Damon sat there chatting with the men, watching the gigs and discussing them as if he had been in a flea for a long time.
He turned to look at me and smiled fucking coldly; no one noticed when he said, "Go on baby, get your gear off; I'm here to take you home so I can spend some quality time with you."
I nodded and went to take off my gear. Now I didn't understand this job at all. Normally, he wouldn't come out when he was stalking, but if I had been then too boring a victim, and now the lesson was lost on me; I just didn't know what the name of the game was in the first place.
When I showered and changed my clothes, uploaded the victims' photos, and sent them to the authorities I felt like such a fucking monster again and now I needed to tell someone and I wanted someone to take me in their arms and convince me that I did the right thing and get this fucking guilt out of my head.
I then went into the hall where Damon was still doing gigs and planning them, and I didn't suddenly see anything wrong with his suggestions; maybe we could have an opportunity here.
He saw me and smiled, but the smile didn't reach his beastly eyes, and although his voice was normal, a chill went down my spine.
He said, "Oh baby, you're ready. Come on, let's go in my car," he grabbed me, and we went outside; he went to his car, reached past me, and said, "Let me open the door."
Before I could move, he had stuck a syringe in my heart, pressed the plunger, and whispered, "Lessons begin now, darling." The darkness took me away.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone