Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series)

by A. Z. Green

  She recoiled from her own feet and cried out in horror. The next memory stabbed at her brain fiercely and she couldn’t push it away.

  Still lying on the metal table, she heard the chinking sound of metal instruments by her throbbing feet. The pain had numbed to a dull ache.

  The anesthetic, kicking in. Bit late for that. Still felt it. Stupid pricks, she thought sourly, trying to brave the next images in her head.

  More clinking of metal instruments. It sent shivers down her whole body and before she could prepare herself for it, the stab of metal in between her legs attacked her nerves. This time she was able to let out a muffled cry.

  The clank of metal as it hit the table was deafening.

  “She’s still awake!” bellowed a low bass voice she recognized instantly.

  The fear at the sound of his voice caused a lump to lodge in her throat.

  “Damn it,” cursed a woman’s voice. It was low and soft. The complete contrast of her current occupation. Jaz recoiled from the sound. “Well I’m definitely sure of it. Put it this way, that shouldn’t have hurt if she wasn’t.”

  “Never mind that, put her under. She shouldn’t have to be awake through this,” he growled at the woman in a whisper. It only made him sound more terrifying to Jaz.

  If her eyes hadn’t automatically opened from the stab of metal inside her vagina, she wouldn’t have dared open them right now.

  The light was blinding and she had to blink several times to adjust to it. Her eyes were watery. All she could see from her laying down position was a bumpy stone ceiling. The low light- she suspected a strong hospital light used for examinations and operations- casted eerie shadows all over the ceiling.

  She could make out two silhouettes in the room. But there could have been more for all she knew.

  Her eyes drowsily gazed down to her left until they met the fierce dark eyes of her kidnapper. Her attempt at screaming came out in a whimper. His eyes widened as if he was horrified.

  Him, horrified?? She wanted to gouge his eyes out.

  She still did.

  “She should have been well under. Are you sure she was given enough?” whispered the unknown woman.

  Jaz tried to look down but couldn’t see past her tummy. Her vision was blurred; the blinding hospital light didn’t help. Then the thought that there was a hospital light being used in this room; the metal bed, the metal objects brought her back to her situation. She was naked from the waist down. Her jeans had been removed. There was a thin sheet covering her dignity. Only it made no difference when the knowledge that this unknown woman had just shoved a metal rod up her, hit home.

  What is she doing to me?

  “Erica was sure of it. I trust her judgment.”

  Hearing her aunt’s name snapped her out of her thoughts for a brief moment.

  “Clearly a mistake,” the woman retorted.

  “Anesthetic,” the driver barked.

  Aunt Erica. You bitch. You were in on it all along. She seethed inwardly.

  One of the questions brewing in her mind escaped from her lips.“What do you want from me?” she croaked. Her voice was so weak she barely recognized it. She’d closed her eyes but the sound of shuffling close to her head made her snap them open, wide.

  The driver towered over her, blocking the light from her face. She couldn’t see his features clearly. She didn’t want to anyway. “We’re not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. I promise.” His voice was strong, resolute. She wanted to laugh at him and spit in his face. Instead she just turned her head away from him. “You got it?”

  She frowned, thinking he was addressing her.

  “Yes. This will be more than enough.”

  Jaz’s heart punched against her ribcage. She tried to move her left arm -the nearest to them- but she could barely lift it.

  A warm, tiny hand gripped it firmly but carefully. She knew what was going to come next before the prick of the needle pierced the skin of her arm. The fluid was injected into the groove of her elbow and she felt herself drift.

  The room disappeared and was replaced with darkness.

  They drugged me. Twice. Bastards. And they gave me a vaginal exam? Why? What kind of sick twisted people do that? My own aunt. Is she even my real aunt? I don’t know what to believe anymore.

  She laid down sideways, wrapped the thick blanket around her and shivered inside it though she was boiling hot to the touch. The tears flowed easily and soaked the sheets by her face. She cried herself to sleep.

  ~Chapter 9- Refuse~

  Monday May 9th, 2011, 12:40 p.m. - Locked Cell.

  The smell of food woke her. She forced her sore eyelids to open. The skin of her right cheek was glued to the sheet by dried salty tears. She peeled herself from it and sat up. Her brain flopped about in her skull making her feel nauseous.

  The aroma of charcoaled red meat and potatoes filled her nostrils. She looked towards the door and then slowly trailed her puffy eyes downwards. A plastic brown tray had been placed on the floor. It hadn’t been long since it’d been put there; the food was still steaming hot.

  She took a deep whiff of it and her stomach gurgled and groaned.

  There was also a plastic cup of water next to the matching cheap, plastic, blue plate. The only two things that stopped her from pouncing on the heavenly smelling food were her fear and paranoia.

  They’ve drugged you before.

  She had shuffled on her elbows and knees to the edge of the bed. Now she leant over, examining the plate of food as if a poisonous snake would suddenly spring out of it and bite her.

  I’m so thirsty, she moaned in her head. She looked skeptically at the plastic cup. Drugs would probably be in there too.

  She swung her legs round until they hung over the edge of the bed and rested the balls of her socked feet on the cold, light brown floor. She started unconsciously tapping her right foot at least three times a second. She did that when she was nervous, troubled or in deep thought, but then stopped when her toes began to throb.

  She anchored her hands to the edge of the bed and fixed her eyes on the food, unblinking.

  I need to eat, she persevered. My iron levels are already too low.

  You can’t seriously be considering eating that drug riddled crap? Her fiercer mental voice argued.

  I don’t really have a choice do I?

  Sure you do-

  AND BESIDES…it might not even be drugged.

  The fierce voice gave a skeptical ‘hymph!’ in reply before the reasoning voice asked,

  Okay then. What do you suppose I do?

  You refuse to eat. Jaz’s mouth opened unsurely and she contemplated this worrying option. Then she frowned.

  This isn’t a game; you know how dangerous that is.

  Would you prefer it if you spent the rest of your life alive, in here, being drugged and prodded and who knows what else?

  She didn’t like that idea one bit. Her whole group of emotional inward voices said in unison,

  I need my pills. I feel really ill.

  Tell them then! The fierce voice bellowed. Jaz cringed imagining that scenario.

  Ha! Tell my merciless kidnappers that my one major weakness- besides being locked up and given only the possibly drug infested food they provide as my only sustenance- is that I happen to be severely anaemic? Oh yeah, and um, you have my pills. Could you please give them back? The reasoning voice laughed without humour.

  Ah…

  Yeah…ah.

  Her whole brain kept repeating profanities over and over again until she lashed out physically and kicked the tray so hard it whipped across the floor, smashing into the door with a thud. Her toes smarted but it didn't deter her feelings of satisfaction.

  The water from the cup spilled into the tray, making it a murky brown swimming pool for ants. The steak and most of the potatoes were sloshed around a bit but otherwise unharmed. A few pieces of potato hadn’t been so lucky and were now little islands floating in the ant pool.

 
; It’s all yours ants. Enjoy.

  *

  Driver and the old woman stared at the monitor. They had been glued to the screen ever since the hidden camera in Jaz’s room had shown she’d woken up; for the second time.

  The first time, Driver had nearly crushed the frame of the swivel chair he was gripping, wishing they hadn’t had a microphone installed in these damned cameras.

  The sound of her crying out when she’d discovered her bloody toes still sent shivers down his spine.

  It had to be done. He didn’t need to reassure himself of that. It was a fact.

  Unfortunately, a lot of things he took no pleasure in doing had to be done.

  If they hadn’t cut her nails from the skin, her feet would have been crippled forever. His frown lines deepened as he imagined the agony.

  She’d have probably never recovered in her current state.

  She was still 'unchanged'.

  It was either this or the high chance she’d never walk again. Unaided or at all.

  There was no contest.

  The sound of something plastic crashing against the door of her room stirred him from his daydream. He looked up.

  The old woman, whose stern face was usually void of emotion, eyed the girl on the screen with a small hint of amusement and intrigue in the sharp, lined face that Driver imagined had once been very beautiful. She resembled an old Michelle Pfieffer, he’d observed many times.

  Her silver hair was shoulder length, parted at one side in elegant waves. She wore very light natural makeup apart from the bright red lipstick that accentuated her plump, wide lips. They were now raised up just a fraction in a light smile.

  “What was that?” Driver demanded.

  “Guess she’s not hungry,” the old woman commented dryly.

  A guttural growl escaped between Driver’s clenched teeth. The old woman was very good at hiding her uneasiness. “She has to eat,”he grumbled.

  “Give it time. She’ll get hungry eventually.”

  Driver grunted. The old woman watched him with the eyes of a hawk. He frowned at her and then concentrated on the screen. The girl had laid back on her bed. He could hear the tiny sobs escape between her pressed lips and gloomed. He felt completely powerless to do anything. “If she doesn’t eat something soon, I’m gonna force it down her throat myself.”

  “You and I both know that won’t be necessary,” Maria replied with a frown.

  *

  Tuesday May 10th, 5:50 p.m. Surveillance Room.

  Jaz hadn’t taken her iron pills for three days. She hadn’t eaten anything either.

  She could barely sit up in bed. The exhaustion had gone from mild to severe and she was starting to regret not eating. Even if it was tainted with drugs, she wouldn’t have to die a horrible death.

  What if she had a heart attack? She shivered at the thought.

  Her fever had gone but it had left her weak. She’d have recovered from it quicker if she wasn’t so reliant on medication to get through the day.

  I don’t want to die. But she didn’t want to be someone’s pet her whole life either.

  She started to wonder if they even knew she was anaemic. Had they figured it out yet?

  All they have to do is look in my handbag. She cursed to herself.

  Why didn’t I grab it before I ran? Stupid, stupid.

  The night before at around the same time, she had woken up to the sound of a tray scraping on the floor.

  She’d sprung up in alarm from her lying position on the bed only to lock eyes with the startled face of a young boy, barely eighteen.

  He watched her cautiously without blinking, as if trying to gauge what she would do. Even she was shocked by her reaction when she jumped from the bed and pounced on him. She managed to claw his pretty cheek with her nails before he pushed her back, hurled himself out the room and slammed the door shut with his foot. The sound of a lock bolting echoed through the thick door before all was silent.

  She sat, slumped against the wall in an awkward position panting heavily with adrenaline. The shock at her primal reaction and the rage she had felt, froze her in place.

  The fury was simmering beneath her skin; she could feel it. As her breathing slowed and evened out, the rage faded away. But she knew it was waiting.

  She didn’t catch the boy again, they made sure of that. But the food still came at regular intervals. Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. When she didn’t eat the first meal, it was removed and replaced by the second, then the second by the third. Uneaten.

  She didn’t eat any of them.

  They had left her an early dinner on the floor when she was asleep- which seemed to be most of the time now. She barely woke up to look at it before rolling over and drifting back to sleep again.

  Even the old woman’s hard shell started to crack with concern.

  Driver had slept in the Surveillance Room the night before, after she had attacked the food bringer.

  The Surveillance Room was right across the hall from his room, which was next to hers; separated by the thick oak door she’d kicked the tray at the first day. He wished she’d react like that again. He even wished she’d attack someone again. It would show she had some strength left in her. Today, she had barely moved an inch.

  Enough was enough.

  “I’m not gonna sit around any longer and wait for her to die. She’ll get too weak. Her body will cripple if she Changes now.”

  “She won’t now.”

  “What makes you so sure?” he questioned harshly.

  The old woman glared at him. There were others in the room. They were watching the two discreetly. Their bickering was their only entertainment during the long hours of watching others living their lives in the village. “You’re forgetting who she is and where she came from. Her bloodline is strong and she’s from the outside. She won’t accept her true identity willingly. That will hinder her Change.”

  Just then, a beautiful, young man with light blonde hair and freckles marched in. He had three fresh scratches on his left cheek. They looked very sore.“You sent for me?” he announced.

  Driver nodded once, his frown fading into a lighthearted expression. “You have her meal prepared?” The young man bobbed his head in reply. “Good. I want you to go in there.”

  The old woman observed Driver with intrigue. The young man’s ocean-blue eyes widened slightly. Driver just smiled.

  “What? Now?” The boy asked in a high voice.

  “Yes, now.”

  “But- begging your pardon- but she’s awake.”

  “She won’t bite,” Driver grinned teasingly.

  Alf stared at him, not finding any amusement in the private joke. “She has sharp nails, sir.”

  “I actually think this look becomes you.”

  Alf didn’t look so sure. Driver suppressed the urge to laugh. He enjoyed winding Alf up. He was like a little brother to him- though he was only a distant cousin.

  “Oh for goodness sake, what are you playing at Driver?” the old woman demanded.

  “I’m tired of all this hiding. She’s clearly trying to get our attention.”

  “She’s going to be a tad… annoyed though isn’t she?” Alf added, trying to keep his voice even but failing.

  Maria smiled. It was her first in weeks. “Understating the obvious, I think,” she noted wryly.

  “She’s weak,” Driver reassured the boy. “Just put the tray of food down. Let her see you, smile and walk out.”

  Alf stared at him incredulously. “Smile?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. Smile.”

  “She’s not a lab rat.”

  Driver glowered at Maria. His expression said, ‘Don’t you think I know that!?’. She rolled her eyes.

  The sound of something rattling caught his attention. He looked down the row at the three occupied chairs to his right.

  A young woman with bright red hair and pale freckly skin was holding a small white object in her hand. She popped the cap open and tipped open a rugby shaped
yellow capsule into her hand. She then put it in her mouth and drank it down with bottled water. He stared as she pressed the cap back on with a pop and the same rattling of pills filled the air as she placed it on her desk.

  He called to her, “Sunhild.”

  She cocked her head up, surprised to hear him address her. She fluttered her long lashes. She was a pretty little thing. He felt a quiver in his pants but it was soon gone. He had almost mastered self control of the aggressive feelings of lust that was a gift and a curse of his kind -though around Jaz, he'd almost forgotten everything he'd learnt.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “What are those?” He pointed to the bottle of pills.

  “Just a supplement, sir. Cod liver oil.”

  “What is it, Driver?” Maria knew that look in his eye.

  “Did you check her handbag?”

  “Jaz’s? No. It’s with her suitcase in your room.”

  “Alf,” Driver turned to the young man, “Go get it.” The blonde boy left hastily and returned less than a minute later with the dark blue shoulder bag. Driver snatched it from him and zipped it open. He heard the rattling before he saw it. He held up the white bottle and read the prescription. 100 Ferrous Fumarate 100mg tabs. Take TWO daily for anaemia. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

  Maria gazed at him questioningly. He chucked the pills to her. She caught them spinning the bottle round in her French-manicured hands. She read the label down the length of her nose. Her eyes widened in surprise and then the worry was clear on her face. “Shit. Alf you've got to go in there now.”

  “But she-”

  “Don’t argue! Take these with you.”

  She was about to hand over the bottle when Driver put his hand out to stop her. “Wait,” He began. He watched the girl searchingly on the monitor. “First give her a steak. A fresh one.”

  ~Chapter 10- Feast~

  Tuesday May 10th, 6:27 p.m. - Jaz’s Cell.