by J Thompson
This was her male.
Her hunter.
Her Callum.
8
When will it end, when can I rest?
Helena’s throat erupted into a scream as she was pulled from the perfection of her dream and back into a nightmare. Freezing cold water coated her completely, waking her in an instant. The laughter of the guards responsible filtered through her fogged mind and made her realise her mistake.
She had fallen asleep again, and in that time the doc had once again managed to drug her and get her back into the exam room with no fight. She was once again strapped down to the table, naked and at the mercy of both the guards and the doc. Her nakedness didn't bother her as much as it used to, her dignity had long since vanished and the drawn out stares of the guards just irritated her when once they would have made her embarrassed.
“Was that little dream a good one?” Bruce, the guard, sneered as he tightened the strap that crossed her torso, his fingers deliberately pressed against her skin. “Missing your dear Callum?” He laughed and slid his hands up her body before squeezing her bare breasts, hard, instantly bringing tears to her eyes.
“He’s forgotten you, everyone you knew has.” He grinned as he taunted her. He bent his head to her ear, first licking across her cheek and making Helena shudder in repulsion. “No fucker would want you now, anyway. Well, only as a hole.”
With his parting shot, he stood and backed away, all the while his grin remained plastered to his face.
“Now, now, Bruce,” the doc chided as he turned around to face the table. He had been reading his notes whilst she had been strapped down, his mind on the test yet to come. He treated Helena as if it was her fault that the guards abused her, like this was all her fault.
“My dear, please don't antagonise my men. You are, after all, only a bit of… Oh, what's that phrase, Bruce?” The doc smiled at his men, then remembered, “Oh yes, you are but a piece of tits and arse.” To Helena, anything of the vulgar variety that came out of the doc's mouth just sounded wrong in comparison to the guards.
Helena glared at him, but said nothing. Usually, when she reacted, he would make sure her punishment was harsh, but she had become past caring. Her body still retained every scar of what they had done.
“Now, today's fun and games will start with a little shave.” The doc smiled as he turned to his tray table and collected a pair of clippers. He approached Helena's head, and all she could do was watch. Her entire body had been strapped down again, so tight she was unable to move. Helena wanted to fight but she had little energy left. Her eyes followed the doc as he shaved the hair around her temples, her long locks falling to the floor in a silken mess.
“Now, don't move, sweetheart. Stay still, I don't want to have to shave off all of your pretty hair.” The doc chuckled as he called out to one of the guards to come and hold her head down. Helena refused to give up the fight, though. She screamed as loud as she could and even tried to bite Bruce. That earned her a smack to the face and Bruce grabbing her by the hair, tugging the strands so hard she felt them rip from her scalp.
“Well, looks as though you want all your hair shaving off. Bruce, you may as well do the honours.” The doc chuckled and handed the clippers over to the guard. Helena screamed again, this time in pain as Bruce butchered her scalp with the clippers; not caring if he caught her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the silky strands, although matted, drifted to the floor. Tears fell from her eyes, even as the doc then proceeded to lather up her temples with soap. With surgical skill, he made quick work of finishing the shave before putting sticky pads in place. Each had wires attached that went to a machine nearby, as well as pads that were stuck to her throat, right over the carotid artery. The steady beep that filled the room, she now understood was her heartbeat, its sound taunting her almost as bad as the guards.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes darting to and from the doc and the machine that was wheeled closer to her table. The room had grown cold and she felt it to her core. She shivered against the metal table, her fingers making a fist then releasing. She needed to move something; her body was on edge and her mind close to breaking.
The doc’s cold voice filled the room as he started to speak into his digital recorder, making her feel once again like a lab rat would feel. “Today’s testing will again take place on Subject 12. She has been brought to the exam room after a week. We found she needed time to recoup after the last round of testing, which had positive results. She has been, once again, strapped to the table in the hopes we can prevent any injury. Subject 12 does seem to fight any and all processes.”
Helena glared again as he walked the length of the exam table, poking and prodding her injuries as he went, all the while making a verbal note of his deeds. She wanted to shout what a sadistic prick he was, but it would make no difference.
“On examination, Subject 12 is still not healing. Her accelerated healing from when we first brought her in has completely vanished and now she is not even healing like a human. The incision I made across her stomach, although stapled, seems to now be red in colour and when I palpate the soft tissue, blood and what looks like infection material secretes from it.”
Helena cried out as the doc, none too gently, pressed each wound, the pain becoming so intense she gagged as nausea tried to take over.
“If all goes well with today's testing, I will proceed to commence treatment for infection with multiple antibiotics. We are still unaware of what Subject 12 actually is, so multiple courses may be needed. However, if the skin starts to necrotize then surgery will be needed to remove the infection manually.”
The doc checked the wound on her stomach one last time before he moved away again. Instructing a guard to hold the recorder and to keep it running, he pulled the trolley that held the machine closer, the wires attaching to the pads on Helena's temples. “Today’s test will consist of shock therapy. As with the sexual response testing, I am trying to ascertain exactly how much the subject can take. In this case, how much the brain can take. As with all testing there are risks, the possibility of brain damage is high, along with brain bleeds and the onset of seizures.” He smiled down at Helena and her gut twisted. Even to her limited knowledge, sending electricity directly into the brain would be unpleasant and would put her through of world of pain. Again.
“Shall we get started?” the doc said in a sing-song voice; the scientist excited and eager to start. Helena moved her head as much as she could in a vain attempt to loosen the straps. The mere thought of what was about to happen gave her a small amount of strength to fight, although it wouldn't be much of a fight.
“Bruce, please come and tighten the straps around her head, I can't afford for her to be thrashing about once the treatment has started.”
“You bastard,” Helena shouted out, unable to keep her rage locked in. Even when Bruce forced her head down to tighten the straps, she continued to shout at the doc. “You will die, you evil piece of shit, all of you will,” she spat out. “You will beg for mercy and none will be given. I hope you rot in hell.”
“We shall see, Subject 12, we shall see.” With a sadistic smile, the doc nodded to Bruce and the guard stepped away from the table as the doc turned on the machine. A gentle hum filled the room as it warmed up and the doc collected two rods with wires attached and approached Helena's head.
“Test one: electroshock therapy, about to commence.” Helena refused to close her eyes. Instead, she glared at the doc, and hatred for this man filled her.
“I hate you,” she spat out a moment before the rods made contact with the pads at her temple.
Pain like nothing she had experienced before filled her mind, ripping her consciousness to shreds. She felt her body buck as the onslaught intensified. Helena closed her eyes but bright lights burst through her eyelids as surge after surge of electricity pulsed through her. She screamed out as her body no longer responded to her commands. Convulsions contorted her and foam formed at her mou
th. Her mind fractured, showing her every moment of her life before her abduction. Her heart, although struggling with the overflow of electric current, ached for what could have been with her male. She prayed to whatever god was listening that she would pass over to the other side to await her warrior.
The pain was so intense, Helena let go. Let go of life and of the fight. As wave after wave swept through her, Helena went with it, letting her heartbeat slow until it stopped. She let darkness descend one last time, going with it willingly.
Blessed darkness.
Blessed oblivion.
Blessed death.
9
Enforcers…
Callum
The echo of footsteps filled the alley as the males stalked their chosen path, their unit melded into the shadows, unseen by any unsuspecting mortals. Each of the six enforcers had stealth - a skill few could equal - and all had been chosen to form an Alpha team of the most lethal quality. They were the best, they were the deadliest and they had no mercy.
Tasked with the job of protecting their kind, they had all taken the abduction of one of their females as a personal blow. What made the situation even worse was that it was a female belonging to Callum; one of the six enforcers present. Taken only days before their bonding ceremony was due to take place, the loss had hit Callum hard.
Callum and Helena had been one of the last birth pairings to happen within their kind. He felt lucky to have been chosen now, feeling for the younger generation that would not have that in their lives. Forcing couples together, not giving them a chance to bond. Michael, the head of the succubi council, was convinced that this would strengthen their kind when, in fact, it was destroying the succubi breed. Fewer children were being born and more and more females were enduring maturity alone and then going rogue. He was destroying their race one decree at a time. The succubi based their existence on the bond formed at birth with their chosen. It was a sacred trust that few other races would understand.
It was obvious to most that Michael cared only for himself and the power he had gained and wielded over the race. There was little they could do at the moment, other than watch and wait. Only the return of the true monarch would give them a chance at surviving.
10
Hunting…Killing...My job.
Callum stopped in his tracks as Dominic held up a fist, the silent signal told them they were close. It had taken months to get this far, so they had to be careful, it would take only one single mishap and the mission could be ruined.
Callum moved forward, silently passing the other males as he waited for Dominic, their leader, and one of the most powerful enforcers to be born. He had his eyes closed, brows drawn in deep concentration. Dominic had gifts, ones that you didn’t question, you just went with, and right now, Callum needed those gifts to be shit hot and on target.
“Dom, you finished meditating yet? I need to piss.” Callum glared behind him as the youngest of the group, Cooper, piped up as he leant against the wall, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was a cocky bastard and usually managed to annoy most of the enforcers all at the same time.
Callum growled as he stalked up to the youngster, ready to wrap his hand around his throat, only Sebastian blocked his path.
“Callum, no, leave him.”
“He needs to shut his fucking mouth, Seb. I won’t have him fucking this up, not when we are this close.”
Sebastian nodded to Callum before he turned and cuffed Cooper upside of the head, making him cough on his cigarette. “Shut the fuck up, Coop, before one of us shuts you up permanently.”
This collection of males had been Callum’s family now for many a year, they had formed a bond few teams had, and were feared. The youngest and cockiest being Cooper, who’s mouth usually got him into more trouble than was worth. He was tall at near on 7ft, with an easy smile, chocolate brown hair and grey eyes. The next, and probably the quietest warrior, was Stefan. He had come to them from Latvia. He had lost his own bonded mate to an attack by the dark fey and he had gone on a hunting spree, destroying any fey, demon or vampyre he could find. It had only been through the help of Dom that he had come out of his berserker style daze. He had been with them ever since. He had melded into the team, becoming the deadliest male they had. With long black hair, eyes so brown they also looked black, and a build that could rival any fighter, he was solid and pure muscle.
His closest friend from childhood, Alec, had also been chosen for the alpha team. It felt good to have someone he had known since infancy at his back, he also knew how much their current mission meant to him. Alec was a brawler first and foremost, but he also had an incredible talent with a bow and arrow that few could equal. At 6ft 5 he was the shortest of the team, packed with muscle and electric blue eyes. With short brown hair that always looked mussed, he used his good looks and charm everywhere he went.. He also had the best sense of humour going, which helped lighten up some missions. But not this one.
Sebastian was a force to be reckoned with and he looked it. Keeping to the old ways, he kept his light brown hair long and tied back. With an aristocratic face, he looked like he should belong in the royal wing, not fighting on the street. He always took each and every mission personally. Both he and Dominic enjoyed using swords but they weren’t averse to using fists. Sebastian had a past, but no one ever asked about it, or asked where his own mate was. With his dark bonding marks, it was obvious he had been bonded at some point.
A loud whistle pulled Callum’s attention back to Dom, who’s fingers twitched, summoning him over.
“Callum,” Dom said, his voice quiet, yet hard. “We go in, all of us.”
“This is the place?” Callum asked, his heart beating ten to the dozen. Finally, after months of searching, months of interrogating, it had finally paid off.
“Callum, my friend,” Dom’s eyes met his own, pity already filled the orbs, “please be prepared for the worst.” Callum could only manage a nod as he drew both his daggers from underneath his jacket. He had been prepared for the worst since the day he had been told Helena was missing. At first, he had been convinced it was all his fault. He hadn’t been paying her proper attention and had avoided seeing her after missions. It wasn’t because he didn’t care for her. Hell, he loved that woman with every inch of his soul. He just didn’t want to taint something so sure and pure with stories of death and mayhem. Instead, he had stayed with Dom or Sebastian to wind down and then had gone to see her.
Only after she had been gone had her minder, Mirium, told him that Helena had left the safety of her home and their realm; had gone to the human world for one reason. Guilt ate at Callum when he learned she had felt the need to risk herself for him. She had gone to buy him a gift before they were to be joined. Her kind heart and beautiful soul gone - in the blink of an eye - all because of him.
Each male moved forward, none making a sound as they drew close to the entrance, only to stop mid-stride as a blood curdling scream filled the air. A scream filled with agony, an agony Callum knew deep inside but refused to let anyone see His own heart stopped for a mere second then started straight into a gallop, his mind in denial yet already knowing who the owner of the scream was.
“We go in hard, no mercy. First, we find our target then we free any others.” Dominic’s voice drilled into the night moments before he bent his head, eyes closed and with immense power, blew the doors to the building open.
11
Only a bond will survive
Callum sheathed both his daggers quickly, before he followed the others through the large metal doors. When they had first blasted through, any guards that had been present had been either killed on impact or knocked unconscious. Only having two guarding the entrance meant Cooper would be bored now from the lack of a fight and they wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Beyond the entrance lay a single corridor with multiple doors on each side. On a cursory glance, it was obvious they were cells, some occupied but poor souls that had been tortured to the point of death. What su
rprised him was that most were human.
One cell in particular called to him, he had walked in and had instantly known his Helena had been kept there. Her scent hung like a cloud, along with the scent of her blood. This had his fists tightening in anger. His keen eyesight noticed the markings on the wall in the corner and had him bending down. Small words had been scratched into the rock and had his heart constricting.
Strong
Callum
Love
These three words had been scratched over and over. His fingers found the small piece of stone that had been Helena’s tool. Dried blood coated it from where the sharp points had dug into her skin. Callum stood, pocketing the small rock, he turned and left the cell both eager and dreading what would be found next.
“Alphas,” Sebastian called out, summoning them all to another set of double doors at the end of the corridor. “Ready?” he asked and waited for a nod from each male.
Callum watched as both Dominic and Sebastian kicked the double doors open, entering the next room on swift feet, the rest of the men quickly followed. Callum knew the others would disarm any guards as they came face to face with a short balding man over an exam table.
Callum’s heart once again stopped as he looked down at the victim of the doctor’s mercy. His Helena lay prone on the table, covered in a sheet, her skin unusually pale. Callum approached, his hands shook as he reached out to touch her. Something he thought he would never do again.
“Helena, my love,” he whispered out as his right hand lifted and caressed her cheek. He was shocked at how she looked. Her face was sunken, showing defined cheekbones only possible from malnutrition. Her hair was gone, her head shaved clean of the long beautiful locks he had loved braiding.