Chapitre 316: 35. Cool.
The next morning, I groggily woke up to the faint scent of black roses permeating the air. As I stumbled out of bed, my eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of a colossal bouquet of black roses resting on the kitchen table. Bloody hell, how the hell did it get in there?
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up and noticed another used syringe on the bedside table. A shiver ran down my spine as I examined my wrists, discovering minor cuts from the barbed handles. Someone enjoyed playing rough and fast.
Suddenly, a chilling voice echoed in my head, warning me not to be so trusting and reminding me of the dangers that lurked after a heatwave.
"You shouldn't, baby, be so trusting that I don't remember what can be done to you after a heatwave. Now I have full access to the entire house, and you can't stop me."
Fear gripping my heart, I immediately called Adam and relayed the unsettling events. He suspected Damon had mastered the art of traveling with shadows and urged me to rid the house of as many shadows as possible. But I knew it was impossible to eliminate them all; there would always be a lingering shadow waiting to torment me.
Determined to stay vigilant, I braced myself for what lay ahead. I couldn't afford to sleep. Instead, I roamed the house and the ranch, desperately searching for any broken lamps or shattered mirrors, trying to banish the darkness that seemed to follow me. Black rose petals scattered across the beds, some adorned with spiked shackles, while empty syringes taunted me from the bedside tables.
Damon's voice continued to invade my thoughts, teasing, taunting, and haunting me. The feeling of being hunted consumed me, becoming more unbearable with each passing day. Three agonizing days went by before I couldn't take it anymore. I needed an escape.
Getting into my car, I embarked on a drive, hoping to find solace in the open road. But Damon's presence persisted, his voice echoing in my mind. "Oh baby, a road trip. How interesting. Aren't you driving pretty fast? You should be careful not to have an accident. Are you such an excellent driver?"
Glancing into the rear-view mirror, I noticed an SUV tailing me, its presence looming ominously. Fine, I thought, a sports car against an SUV. Everyone knows who would come out on top. However, my relief was short-lived as the SUV abruptly turned after 10 kilometers.
As I passed by a deserted petrol station, Damon's voice again filled my mind. "You should probably have stopped for petrol and a bite to eat. You'd get more mileage out of it."
Panic crept in as I realized there was no one behind me. Damon was seeing through my eyes, invading my thoughts so I couldn't comprehend. Perhaps he was a telepath, a powerful one at that. But I refused to let fear consume me.
The tormenting comments continued relentlessly, clarifying that this was more than just a game played through my eyes.
Shadows. Swearing under my breath, I anxiously wondered if he could slip into the car unnoticed through the dimly lit shadows. The trunk was the only place where shadows lurked unless he cunningly hid under the seat now. I shook off my unease and pressed on.
Running low on gas, I pulled into a nearby station to refuel and grab a bite to eat. The enticing aroma of freshly baked bagels wafted through the air as I treated myself to a stuffed bagel, a fizzy soda, and a steaming cup of strong coffee.
Damon, always unsettling, remarked, "I'm glad you're finally nourishing yourself. You'll feel better soon. Let's see how much longer I can toy with you before I make my move."
I did my best to dismiss his eerie words and focused on savoring my meal in the car. Prior to getting in, I had diligently inspected every nook and cranny to ensure he wasn't lurking nearby. The bagel was a delightful blend of flavors, complemented by the invigorating jolt from the coffee and soda.
As I drove, Damon's voice echoed in my mind, "Imagine, baby, if there was something extra in your coffee. Take note of any subtle changes in how you feel. Remember those insipid calendula drops..."
I attempted to convince myself that it was all just Damon's attempt to unnerve me. I would not let him succeed. I had one final precaution in place. Pulling into a rest area, I popped open the trunk, first grabbing the tranquilizer gun from the front seat, and then accessing the entire storage system to administer three shots of adrenaline. I injected one into myself, feeling a surge of anger course through my veins. If there had been anything in the coffee, it would have no effect now.
Satisfied, I returned to the car, only to find the tranquilizer gun missing from the front seat. Panic gripped me as I realized the implications. Damn it, Damon had somehow slipped in undetected, likely emerging from the nearby woods and shadows.
I resumed driving, and his voice infiltrated my thoughts once more. "Impressive arsenal you've got there. Shame it was not easily accessed, along with that tranquilizer gun. Serious stuff, indeed. You'll experience it soon enough, baby. Let's see if adrenaline can counteract this drug."
I kept driving and tried to ignore the comments. The next time I stopped at a rest stop to take a piss, the tranquilizer dart flew right over my shoulder and sunk into the tree in front of me. I turned around, and no one was there.
Damon said, "Isn't this a nice game? I'm in two minds whether or not to use this gun on you. If it's strong and you sleep like a million years, I have to wait to deal with you, but then again, you've got the rage on display and those adrenaline shots so that you could be in a pretty good mood. Yeah, I'll be ready in a minute. Now, baby, I can't really wait any longer. Oh yeah, talk to Adam, and you'll know where you're going."
I called Adam, who told me the Chicago medbay had been destroyed. Every incubator and a lot of antibiotics used on me—not anesthetics or sedatives, but fever meds and all the dental stuff—were destroyed. Samuel was injured. Damon had worked on him really badly, and Colin had his hands full on treating Samuel.
Oh fucking hell, I thought to myself.
I kept going until I had to refuel again. It was night, and I found a convenient petrol station that was open at night, too. I was hungry, so I thought I'd get a proper lunch for myself again. I had been on the run for several days, running on adrenaline and rage.
I locked my car and walked inside the petrol station, the sound of the door closing behind me. As I entered, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, illuminating the rows of shelves filled with various products. There was a faint click behind me, but I brushed it off, paying no attention.
Navigating through the aisles, I surveyed the items on the shelves, their colorful packaging catching my eye. The air carried a faint scent of fuel mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I selected a drink and something to eat, envisioning enjoying them with a slushy from the malfunctioning machine.
Approaching the counter, I noticed there was no one there. "They must be in the back room," I thought, as the sound of my footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor. The anticipation of being served made me feel a sense of reassurance.
Disappointed by the broken slushy machine, I shrugged it off and proceeded without it. Just as I turned around, I heard approaching footsteps. I met his gaze, and his expression sent a chill down my spine. His eyes bore into me, devoid of any emotion, as if I were nothing more than a piece of meat.
Curiosity and concern compelled me to inquire about the missing seller.
"Where is the seller?" I asked, hoping for a simple explanation.
Damon nodded toward the back room and replied, "A little cleaning never hurts. A good meal was."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but notice the locked door and barred windows trapping me inside the station.
Aware of the impending danger, I took a few steps back, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me. Despite my bravado, I couldn't shake the feeling of being completely outmatched. Damon towered over me, his imposing figure exuding strength and power. His age and experience were clear in his every move.
Realizing the gravity of my mistake, a sense of dread washed over me. I foolishly believed I could take on Damon with my bare hands and emerge victorious. The reality of the situation sank in, my confidence fading as quickly as it had appeared.
I had been on the run for several days, my heart pounding in my chest. Exhaustion consumed me, as I hadn't slept or rested. Every step I took was fueled by pure adrenaline and seething rage. Just as Damon had taught me, my rage made me reckless, and it wasn't long before I found myself pressed against the cold wall, my stomach flattened, Damon's grip immobilizing me completely.
I could feel the sharp prick of the needle as Damon plunged it into my upper arm; a mix of pleasure and satisfaction could be heard in his voice. Slowly, he pressed the plunger, the rhythmic motion of his hand continuing to rub against my skin.
His voice hissed in my ear, sending chills down my spine, "Did you know, baby? This is the same stuff that was in your tranquilizer jelly. Remember how it made you feel? Helpless, vulnerable. Now, we wait for it to take effect, and then the real fun begins. Or rather, I will have my fun."
Desperation surged through me as I struggled, attempting to break free, to squirm and kick, but Damon's hold was unyielding. I could sense his triumph, his pleasure in overpowering me. Within a mere seven minutes, the medicine crept up on me despite my raging state.
Damon's voice broke through the haze. "Look, baby, this isn't what rage is meant for. I designed it this way. Your rage is useless against this one. You're calming down nicely now. I just need to prepare a little more for our journey, and then I can fully indulge myself. You do not know, baby, how long I've yearned for this. My moment of glory. The sheer bliss it brings me."
My muscles betrayed me, refusing to obey as Damon turned me to face him, his eyes locking onto mine. Helplessly, I was turned over onto a table, my neck exposed. The sharp prick of a needle pierced deep into my brain, injecting something unknown. Mimosa groaned in the recesses of my mind, collapsing in a heap. Mirella, too, succumbed to slumber.
I had hoped that at least one would remain awake, as both would be useful. Already in a zombie-like state, Damon guided me, helping me up and leading me towards his car. It was parked nearby, and I couldn't comprehend how he had managed it.
He put me in the back seat where the spiked handcuffs were installed and closed them. They had a strong spring mechanism so that you couldn't escape them easily. He gave me another injection directly into my vein, and I felt the drug come on even more, and I couldn't get a grip on my rage. He buckled me in with my seatbelt, got in the driver's seat himself, and drove off.
As we drove in silence for what felt like an eternity, I could hear the faint hum of the engine and the occasional swoosh of passing cars. The dimly lit interior of the car cast eerie shadows, creating an atmosphere of unease. Suddenly, breaking the silence, he spoke, his voice filled with a sinister undertone.
"You're probably wondering how I move from shadow to shadow," he said, his words hanging in the air. I could feel a chill run down my spine as his words sank in. "I don't move that way," he continued. "There was an old tunnel under your ranch, hidden secret rooms. I can hide in the shadows, blend in, but I don't travel between them."
A sense of dread washed over me as he revealed his ability to manipulate perception. "A little compulsion can work wonders," he said with a wicked smile, "make Adam believe I was always there." The thought sent shivers down my spine.
He confessed to having a helper, someone to deal with Adam and assist in his trip to Chicago. The passing hours seemed to blur as we raced towards the airport. I could hear the whir of the plane's engine in the distance, promising an escape from this nightmare.
As we arrived at the airport parking lot, he turned to look at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes, filled with a sickening satisfaction, locked onto mine. "Oh baby," he whispered, his voice dripping with malevolence, "this is going to take time, but forever is a long time. I get to play with you for as long as I can."
The weight of his words settled heavily upon me, and a sense of urgency washed over me. I knew I had to escape his clutches. The thought of what he had in store for me sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
With a mix of determination and fear, I vowed to uncover every hidden passage and tunnel, to leave no stone unturned in my quest for freedom. The anticipation of what lay ahead was palpable, the unknown lurking in every corner.
The air was thick with tension as I braced myself for the horrors that awaited me. But as terrifying as it was, I knew that the only way to survive was to confront the darkness head-on.
He stepped out of the car and approached me. I remained in a state of utter helplessness as he freed me from the restraints and unbuckled my seatbelt. Guiding me towards the plane, he unlocked the door and undressed me completely, leaving me exposed on a table adorned with menacing spiked handles.
A shiver ran down my spine as he took a scalpel in his hand. With precision, he made an incision just below my diaphragm, exposing my vulnerable abdominal cavity. I watched in both horror and fascination as a thick tube was inserted deep within, sending a chill through my body.
Suspended from hooks on the plane's ceiling, many large bags filled with vibrant orange jelly swayed ominously. Gradually, the jelly flowed, draining from my abdomen surprisingly rapidly. A peculiar sensation enveloped me as Damon meticulously caressed and massaged the jelly into my abdomen.
The jelly's potent scent lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of the scalpel. I could feel the viscous substance being absorbed into my body, causing my thoughts to grow hazy.
The pressure and discomfort intensified as Damon continued to knead my distended stomach, although the jelly had long since been drained. My consciousness teetered on the edge, as if on the verge of surrendering to unconsciousness. Finally, Damon settled into a seat, and I willingly let go, allowing myself to slip into the abyss of oblivion.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone