Chapitre 57: 17. Killing me Softly.
When they threw me out, I told them to deliver me to my Sicilian house. It had been one of my ultimate sanctuaries all along, and it would be good for me to recover there. I already recognized that I had an infection, but because the pack leader was sick, no one looked at my results and didn't see the problem.
I did not say anything to anyone that I had a pretty rough time coming ahead because my past haunted me. In the form of hallucinations, I struggled to keep myself sane until the boys were gone, and then the past took me over.
********************past, in the shed***************************
I was lying on my side on a pallet, those opened petri dishes near me. Damon worked something near me, and I was just too tired to see what it was. I tried to move away from them. I was so broken and so exhausted and I knew that I had probably some sort of infection, but I did not want more.
Soon Damon came next to me and said," Well baby, let's get those infections taking over, shall we? First, I have little supplies here to give those germs the best possible opportunity to infect you. "
He turned me on my back and saw the big open wound in my abdomen. His touch burned me. He took the bottle of cultures and poured it into my abdomen, making sure it flowed deep into my abdomen.
He said, "Now, let's make sure that they can have a warm, nice nest there. You see baby, I am now pulling this wound close with butterfly tapes like this, quite tightly and then I put this very tight and thick dressing, non-breathable, over this wound, so these bacteria can multiply. "
I could feel his fingers burning in my skin, tapes sticking in my skin, and then a tight, thick dressing. I knew that getting peritonitis in this state was no good...
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I sat up, and panted, feeling that burn in my skin, looking at my abdomen, but no burn marks there. Those damn symptoms were on me, still making me so damn sick, unable to make this damn infection go away. I swore that this needs to be changed, not rob all of my spleens and my thymus out of me, because I would then get sick so damn easily. I grew them for a reason.
It took time for me to see where in hell I was. It seems that in my hallucinations; I moved all around the house. I was now in a cellar and got up, walked into the kitchen, and tried to drink, but I had no thirst so much.
Now, I should get myself fixed. And that's difficult. I had my cupboard here, a wicked variety of antibiotics, but when the problem was that I, girl attacked the antibiotic, I chopped it off. I hadn't got the hang of it yet. I don't know what the component of Damon's antibiotics had always been that I didn't chop them up, but nobody had got round to making one for me, and oh boy, did I have scientists on the case and lots of them.
But first, I had to suffer these satanic potion-induced symptoms, and it could be days before I could get the infection. Damon had completely disappeared from my mind, and I hoped there wouldn't be another memory right away when I should be functioning.
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"Well, baby, let's take these infections a few notches up. See here your arm you don't have skin at all, so here I am gonna smear these cultures and right, like this all over them and then we put again this dressing over them, so they got a nice moist warm place to grow. "
Damon's voice oozed malice and glee as he felt how his touch burned my skin.
He wrapped my thin arm in something like cling film and then took a thick intubation tube and said, "Well then, next up, put something in your throat. "
He had restrained me now with straps on my back so I could not move and he put the spreader in my mouth, opening it. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my throat as he scraped it raw.
" Now baby, this is a thick intubation tube and I have roughened this up. See, this is quite a nasty feeling, but this holds so well culture on all of these grooves, see I am putting again several here. Now, I am gonna stick it into your throat, this will be felt, but I will not secure it too tight, just enough that you can't get it out, but I let it move in your throat, so this will scrape your throat all the time." His voice was a malevolent whisper. Making shivers go down to my spine.
He pushed that tube deep into my throat. It was like molten pain would have gone into my throat. I tried to gag it out, but he filled the balloon just that it moved, but not enough.
His falsely soothing voice made me shiver from disgust, "Now baby, soon you will be having a fever, so I want that fever blazing in you, see I have a very thick and warm sleeping bag here. Now I am lifting you here, like this, and let's zip this up. It is quite comfy, right? Now it is good that fever can rise as high as possible."
He put me very warm and soft sleeping bag, secured it tightly around me, and put a hood over my head. I was left trussed up in that sleeping bag. To wait for those infections would get a really nasty hold on me. He talked to me soothingly, touching, enjoying how his touch burned my skin every time more and more badly.
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I found myself again somewhere around my Sicilian huge manor. Now I was perched high up on the bookshelf, when I came to, out of the hallucinations, and now I had fingerprints on my skin, and burn marks. This was not good, not at all. My body could not handle so freaking much.
The fever didn't subside in three days, and the infection had got a pretty fucking good foothold, but when I started hallucinating, sometimes I was in a shed, lying there on the shed, powerless, hoping Damon would let me go. The infection got a hold of me. I trembled in that damn sleeping bag, feeling the fever just keep on rising. Damon measured it, talking to me and waiting for my fever to drop, marking my infection going in sepsis.
In between, I was conscious and sane, and I tried to do something: cannulate myself and put some fluids in the drip. But as my hallucinations took over, I moved, went away, and I had no idea where, ripping everything out, hurting myself in the process, and often got some residual feelings on wounds in me when I got my mind coherent for a few hours even.
I could feel my weight rapidly dropping as my body burned through the infection at an alarming rate. It was an intense struggle, especially after having my spleens removed. But I refused to give up. Immortality and resilience were on my side, even as I lay still, allowing the fluids to drain from my veins, desperately trying to maintain my sanity before the fever consumed me once again. It was not a long time since my sanity was on.
Charles, as a trusted husband, expressed his growing concern about Mimi's condition with Adam, who shared his unease. They both knew that her infection was not the only thing to worry about. It was something far more sinister. They knew they had to help me, so they equipped themselves with energy shields and made the decision to investigate. They could feel it in their souls that Mimi was not fine, not at all.
They arrived at the portal room and descended the stairs, marveling at the opulence of the place. Consulting the magical map, they discovered Mimi was located on the fifth floor. Charles, with a pang of nostalgia, gazed at the crystal crown he had placed there decades ago. He told it about Adam. Teleporting to the fifth floor, they scanned the area to find her.
The door of one room stood open, and Charles cautiously entered. There was no light in that room. In air smelled so many things, infection, her blood but most of all, her fear. The air was heavy with the scent of fear.
He took a few steps and called out softly, "Honey, Mimi, we are here with Adam. Are you okay?"
A few steps in more, he could see a tiny figure next to the wall. There she was, sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth, her face marked with angry red burns. Charles noticed a new mark appearing on her face as she muttered incoherent words, struggling to breathe. Those were like fingerprints.
Charles understood she was hallucinating and her body made those hallucinations true. She was utterly terrified, begging Damon to stop, pleading not to be killed again. And then, she let out a piercing scream that sent chills down Charles's spine.
Reacting swiftly, Charles sprang into action, gathering me in his arms and carrying me to the safety of the bed. He enveloped me, his purring vibrations offering solace, as he tried to soothe my trembling form. I had no idea how long it took me to get coherent enough to actually realize him to be next to me, keeping me safe the only way he knew how.
I could feel his purr, his strong hands around me, keeping me still, so Adam could cannulate me. I could hear him swearing, as I was so damn dehydrated that finding a vein was difficult. Then the prick of a needle took me back into the shed, being tortured and I had no idea from how many different sessions images and scenes flooded into my mind.
I sometimes got away from them, making them chase after me. One of them had to keep me in his arms all the time. And take it all my fear, my pain, my desperate pleas not to die, to make the pain go away, to make it all end.
At that moment, amidst the chaos, I felt a glimmer of safety. Someone was there, taking care of me, holding me close, and protecting me. And as I squirmed restlessly, I realized I was cradled in either Adam's or Charles's arms.
"I'm contagious. You. You can't be here. I don't want this for you."
Charles just grunted something and continued to stroke me. My mind wandered into the shed and its horrors repeatedly. The next time I came to, I knew there was more than just some liquid dripping on me and then I was in Adam's arms again. My hand tried to rip out the cannula, and Adam's big hand kept my wrists immobile. He talked to me soothingly. I looked at him, seeing him being very worried and haggard, almost. I am not an easy patient.
Adam said, "Charles has gone to see if he can find an antibiotic. Don't worry, you'll be fine. We keep you safe and if we don't find antibiotics, let's see if we can make you sleep, so this infection will go away then."
I said, " Don't let Damon take me to the shed. It might be too much. It hurt so much, he wants to kill me. Please, no matter what he says, I am not so bad, am I? I mean, I don't mean to misbehave so badly.."
Adam grunted and said, "I'll keep you safe; you'll be fine. You're going to be fine. No one is taking you in the shed. I keep you safe. Just try to rest.."
Mariella thought of no one but Damon, her husband, and she was taking care of him. She kept him on bed rest, not letting him worry about anything, not thinking much of anything. She gave him a sedative for five days so he would rest and take it easy. Even though he was an energy creature and he could have been up after a day or two with those antibiotics, Mariella wanted to care for him.
Then, a week later, Charles came to the medbay in a rage. Damon was already recovering, eating and drinking, a little weak, but no longer running a fever. Mariella was surprised. Damon was in a patient's bed, but with no sedative anymore.
Why is Charles so cranky? His expression was tight. He was looking for something and something had made him so close to an explosion that she did not understand right now what was going on. Charles looked through their cupboards where there was old stuff, that was not needed anymore.
"What's wrong with you?" Mariella asked as she carried a new tray of food in front of Damon.
Charles just grunted something vague and went to search the cupboards and medicines. He looked jar after jar, bottle after bottle. Urgency, irritation so visible in his movements. He was frantically looking for something and not finding it, making him even more irritated.
Damon frowned and asked, "Cornick, hey? What are you looking for in there?"
Charles grunted and continued rummaging. Mariella went and wrapped herself up in this. She could feel the tension in his magnificent body and something in his mind was bothering him very deeply.
"Come on, start telling me. I know pretty much what we have and what we don't have." She asked.
Charles turned around and untangled his wife from him.
He said, voice terse and not friendly, "Mimi, she has an infection. Evil. Do we have any Salvatore-made antibiotics for Mimi on the left?"
Damon sighed and said, " No, everything was destroyed then, and we haven't made a proper stockpile yet. We'll have to see if we can get something done. I would need a tube of her blood at least. I know she had a wicked stash of antibiotics, but they don't really suit her."
Charles looked at Mariella for a moment and said, " Salvatore. I'm not sure if Mariella will let you interfere with Mimi. See, she got you all to herself again. And the strange thing is that it only got to you and not anyone else. She had kept you sedated for five days, at least. It's like Mariella is constantly trying to sabotage your plan to help Mimi."
Mariella was silent and said," I'm not sabotaging per se; I just want to keep Damon safe. I am trying to ensure that he recovers properly."
Damon got out of bed and said, " Fine, I guess it's my turn to be the doctor. Darling, thank you, really, but I was careless and didn't put on the energy shields when I operated on Mimi. That's how I got the bug, and I'm not her half yet, so I'm trying to help get it going and get it right. You see, sweetheart, I need you here now that the lady has taken the rage out, and in a blown it out, really. It makes me wonder if there's a stone that could draw the power from Mimi that we always get to unload. So that we wouldn't be so full of ourselves that we could get the power level down properly?"
Mariella thought about it and said, " Maybe so. She has quite a lot of stones and crystals and minerals collected again. I'll have to study them and study them properly."
Mariella asked Charles, " How else did you know Mimi was sick?"
Charles looked at his wife for a moment and said, " When we have a connection, we always have and always will. I sensed and asked about Adam. He felt the same, put on the energy shields, and went to see the situation. That's how I knew. The lady weighs at most 27 kilos and lost 10 kilos in a week, so you can judge for yourself what shape she's in. Her fever is cruel. She's full of rage, trying to work, but..." Charles was silent. He looked at the floor.
Damon looked at him for a moment and said softly, fearing for the answer, " What are you not telling me now?"
Charles swallowed and said, " Maybe it's better that I bring a tube of Mimi's blood, and you can do the antibiotics here. She has very many antibiotics over there, but she chops them off, not letting them work. She told me that much. No one had gotten done with any workable antibiotic for her. We can take care of her when we get that antibiotic on, so you can take care of each other."
Number two had walked up the door, to listen to this too. He could sense uneasiness coming from Charles. He had a secret, and it was something nasty.
Mariella wrapped her arms around herself and said, " Come on, honey, really tell me."
Charles sighed and said, "Mimi is out of her mind; she has almost constant shed-session hallucinations, and she thinks it was Damon. Her body reacts, her face is full of burns, shaped like fingerprints. They will go away every time she is sane, but those times are so damn brief and they are getting less because her condition is worsening. So now I don't know how you feel about it."
Damon looked at his friend and said, " Thanks for the warning. She's harder to medicate then, as she can get allergic to my stuff."
He thought about something and Mariella came at him, wrapped herself around him, flooding her pheromones in his nose, making Damon say, "But let's see her after we do some decompressing first. Mariella insists on unloading. I need some sex to get my energies going." They started to kiss passionately.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone