I woke up tied to a hospital bed, my head muddled from the drugs. The bed was hard; I could smell the medications and disinfectants and felt terrible. I was dizzy, mildly nauseous, and also lost, and a bit scared of being tied up like some kind of rabid animal. I tried to remember what the fuck had happened, and all I could remember was how I had gone to the shop and then nothing.
I had this weird pressure in my mind, making this even more distressing, but I did not feel like a victim. My need to do something was surfacing as I got a bit more of my mind back online.
Nick and Elias must have been looking for me, but America is a big country, and I had no idea how long it had been since I'd been caught. How could they track me even? I had an IV, and my head was screwed up the whole time. My panic and uncertainty seemed to eat away at my strength, and I would fall asleep or lose consciousness, then, now, and wake up.
My sense of time was utterly gone, as well as my reason and my self-control. I almost panicked and struggled every time, trying to rip free. This white-hot flash hit my mind here and there, and everything blurred as I just had to get free.
I had no idea where I was or how long it had been since I was last awake. I felt just as awful and nauseous, but I was getting pissed off and angry. I refused to be a victim. Fury helped, and a good dose of real pissed offness helped, and I decided to try to make something happen with it.
I just focused on getting out of the fucking bed. And finally, out of my anger and frustration, I developed a rage, which made me perk up and get myself out of my resting restraints, and I ripped the fucking drip off. White hot was no more mere flash, but it was starting to burn in my mind, empowering me.
I was so pissed, I didn't even feel the pain when I ripped the cannula from my vein. I tried to escape. I got out of bed, opened the door, and staggered into the hallway, letting my rage take over and using anything as a weapon to try to get away. My vision swam, I staggered, snarled, like a feral beast. Nurses and orderlies flood in, so it made me act. I would bite, kick, and scream. I even used a drip tray as a weapon. If someone got too close, I would try to strangle them with a drip hose. I was eventually subdued, my frantic thrashing blurring into a drugged haze.
I could smell blood, wake up from time to time, see dried blood under my nails, and it was rarely mine. My mind was trying to wake up, my senses were so damn acute, I could hear that damn drip, drip, drip as drugs kept me messed up.
Time after time, I tried to run away whenever I attacked anybody and did everything I could to get away. But there were always too many opponents, and I felt that damn sting, after which the resistance was futile. For some reason, my rage grew. My anger and determination grew, and every time I was pinned to the ground or the bed and the drug kicked in, I would see this satanic man with a nasal, whining tone.
It seemed like he was just happy to have me more and more enraged- it seemed like he wanted to develop a rage in me I couldn't control. I must have killed many people every time I tried to escape, but I felt nothing about it. No guilt, no nothing.
I was lying strapped in bed, barely aware, just hearing damn twang. "Excellent, latest scans show my project is on point, and her gene expression is most dominant, what Morrisey has seen, let's up the dosage another 1,25mg/hour."
He rattled a list of chemical names, and I just could not keep up.
Someone said, "But you risk wiping her amygdala response out. Is it wise?"
"So she would be fearless, even better. Fear can be a hindrance. Do as I said, do not question me, you know what happens to those."
And then my mind shut off once more.
Sometimes, I would hear the nurses or whatever torturers they were. They would talk about how I had mutilated several, and someone was probably even dead. I felt no pangs of conscience. But I had no clear memory of anyone dying, as they got me down usually. There was this damn fat, tall guy who loved to smash me under his huge belly, and his beard reeked like garlic.
I tried to fight back; I tried to escape, and every time I tried to escape, new ways came up to keep me in check, whether it was handcuffs, some head-messing medication, or a gag and blindfold, some headphones still in my ears so my senses weren't working as they should. But I didn't give in, I didn't surrender, and I fought my way free time after time. Feeling scared faded away, there was no more any kind of hesitation, no one was scary for me anymore, not a gun, not a taser, they were just things to me.
I felt the cold floor beneath my feet. The dizziness from the drugs was almost always too much, but my rage seemed to help, and somehow, everything that was done to me made this rage bigger. My vision swam, and I was not sure how good my coordination was, even. My state of mind was weird. It was as if someone wanted to give me this huge rage. I was so out of my mind from the drugs, the pain, the despair. I was in survival mode, and I couldn't think of any motive, any plan, or why they were doing this to me.
Whatever they did to me, it always boosted this white-hot burn in my mind. It might be even physical discomfort, or some nagging sound coming from headphones, or lights flashing in the room. It felt like something gave in my mind and broke, shattered into pieces, and I had no idea what it had been. As my rage was my fuel.
Nicholas and Elias were in a bad mood, not only because their protégé had disappeared, but also because they had no idea who had kidnapped her. They suspected it was the same Satanic doctor who had brainwashed Mimi in the first place.
Three of their men had been found killed in an alley. There were no cameras at the scene to see anything, and they had plenty of help to go around as they questioned, searched, and theorized. They'd been looking for three weeks and not a single lead. Only one seller of the nearby magazine stand was soon dead after confessing to telling about Mimi and where she was, when some guys asked around that he had gotten 300 dollars for his information.
They searched across America, state by state, and eventually, their trail led them to Montana, on the other side of America. To that point, over 3000 vampires were looking for clues and the whereabouts of Mimi. Something inside Nick forced him almost to act. They weren't quite sure if this lead was right or if it was time to give up and move on. Nick was so angry, volatile as hell, and ready to rain hell on whoever was responsible, and Elias felt they had failed to protect this delicate girl. It drove them on.
Eventually, they caught one of the security guards at a bar in Montana, who told them about a patient who killed everyone when she ran away. He described Mimi accurately, and Nick's friend told him about the janitor when he was simultaneously in the bar. He described the janitor. The janitor was tall, fat, and reeked of garlic; his beergut flopped over his belt, and his unkempt beard had some crumbs of his favorite snacks, garlic bread with mayo.
But what was strange about Nick and Elias was how the janitor had described Mimi as being like a raging beast, always killing without mercy, and Mimi was said to be very violent. This janitor hinted that men in that place wanted Mimi enraged. But why?
This piqued their curiosity, and they were pretty sure that someone was again trying to influence Mimi's mind, perhaps brainwashing her or even programming her. Drug testing was also one option, and both of them knew just how nasty those experiments could be. So maybe they wanted as much adrenaline in her system and then see how drugs worked or something. Nicholas and Elias went to Montana to see this janitor and were determined to use their mind control skills to get the truth out.
Arriving in Montana, they arrived at a bar, and after lurking around for a while, they saw this janitor, a former football player, strong and muscular but with a flabby belly that betrayed a condition he no longer maintained, but had allowed the good life to ruin his athletic body.
The man was certainly not intelligent, and it was obvious that he had only gotten through school on the strength of his athletic performance. Garlic reeked across the bar, but it did not faze vampires; it was just one more rumour to fuck with humans. Nick and Elias, after spending a couple of evenings in a bar, first saw him when the janitor entered the bar, limping and ashamed of his black eye.
He started talking again about the crazy woman who would kill anyone when she escaped, no matter how chained and drugged she was. She would somehow always get away. And then people would die or get badly wounded. The man told how this woman had got hold of a surgical knife and managed to kill six before they managed to hit the woman with a taser several times. Nicholas approached the man, looked him in the eye, and asked where this facility was located.
As Nick's compulsion took hold, the man told him the location and bragged about the facility's security measures. The man praised his employers for being generous and helpful and for contributing to the greater good by manufacturing new medicines. In the same breath, he explained how, for example, this woman was used as a guinea pig to test various drugs.
These drugs would surely help honest humans in time, after they have tested and seen what works and what does not. He saw everyone in that facility as somehow lesser, so testing drugs on them was not a big deal.
The man told of a psychiatrist who was testing new drugs on this woman, and it always seemed to make her more and more furious. The disgusting piece of human filth, as this janitor was nicknamed by Nick, kept on talking. The janitor did not understand why the doctor wanted to make her more dangerous and why the psychiatrist was almost happy when she killed people and nurses without a care in the world. Not that she ever had a real chance of escape.
The drugs kept her head screwed up. Then the woman had various procedures done, and samples were taken, so she wasn't physically well, but with rage, she killed. Nicholas was very close to drinking this fucking garlic-reeking idiot dry, but Elias stopped him from doing it.
Elias stated calmly to his fiery-tempered brother, whose smoky scent was distinct as his bloodlust was higher. "We need more information, and most of all, we need help. What the idiot said, the two of us can't get Mimi out of there alone. It will require a slightly different approach, and I think it's time to get some help. We are fortunately in the right state for help, what I was thinking of."
"What do you suggest, dear brother?" Nicholas said mockingly.
Nick was always impulsive and impatient at times, while Elias planned and thought. But that didn't mean that Elias' plans were any better or more humane, especially when it came to attacking enemies. Even now, Elias was wondering who would be strong enough to get Mimi out of there in a way that would work and, most importantly, they would be safe.
Elias sighed deeply and thought for a moment until he noticed a large table at the far end of the bar filled with werewolves, just what was needed. Strong, intelligent, and willing to fight. Stubborn and proud enough that they wouldn't let him and Nick come along and would handle the rescue themselves. They are just the perfect soldiers. The vampire brothers helped and protected, but they had a powerful instinct for self-preservation and would not easily sacrifice themselves for anyone else unless it was their family.
Elias knew that Montana was a stronghold of werewolves, and usually most feral ones, so maybe they could use those to do heavy lifting while keeping themselves out of harm's way and get Mimi back. Elias was already planning to let her live with them for the time being, and this time they would keep her safe.
"We need allies, and strong ones at that," Elias said. "It's time for you, my brother, to fully embrace your other side. "
Here was the advantage that Nick was a half-werewolf, and if Nick brought his wolf out and let the wolf side show, it would be useful because wolves were pack animals, and when they would go to the most senior pack leader to ask for help, Nick, as a wolf on display, should at least listen to them, and vampires could be very persuasive.
From what Elias had heard, this pack leader whom they would go to meet was the kind of man who took all kinds of rescue cases upon himself and helped them, even helping wild werewolves in the forest, so perhaps the only werewolf vampire hybrid in the world would be just the thing to challenge this leader, and maybe he would help them.
"You can't mean werewolves?" Nick's voice was questioning.
"That's right, and not just any werewolves, but you're asking for help from the leader, the Marrok. He is the leader of all the werewolves in North America. And Montana happens to be his home turf." Elias explained.
Elias briefly explained what he had heard the wolves say. He explained just how marrok was saving everyone, and Nick would be too special just to be dismissed by Marrok. And when a wolf, albeit a hybrid, would ask for help, Marrok would be forced to listen at least.
Nicholas thought about it for a moment and tried to come up with a counterargument, but he, too, understood his brother's logic. They needed more help, and since Nicholas was half a werewolf, maybe he could get Marrok to get some men to help. The trick here was to let the wolves take over, and that's why they decided to let the janitor go, because when he returned to the bar, the werewolves would get the next interrogation shift.
Marrok lived in Montana, and somehow Nick wondered if it was just a coincidence or another one of those jobs that they ended up in the right place at the right time, the bar where the werewolves were talking about Marrok, and this stupid piece of shit janitor was there.
Nick was old, and he didn't believe in coincidences. He believed in fate and its cruelty. He had loved and been a father, but fate had shown him that such happiness was not his. He was not supposed to be in love the way he was. He killed his child, his only child, because she was a naughty, corrupt black witch. Once a witch is black, there's no going back, and Nick's daughter, Hope, had been a vampire, a witch, and a werewolf. Now Nick hoped his daughter had found peace and was back with her mother, wherever the souls of the dead were.
The vampires left the bar in search of tourists or villains to nibble on. If it were just innocent people, they didn't kill them, but they could find those who deserved to die, and it was wonderful to eat them dry, to feel the victim's heart stop and die. That was part of being a vampire. They headed to the hotel, and after a couple of days of planning and questioning, they headed into the mountains of Montana to find Marrok's headquarters.