You're certainly lucky, in regards to your regeneration speed: after a few hours, on his body, there was no trace attesting the devastation that had been inflicted on him by the bursts of gunfire. On the other hand, I thought of going crazy for the almost continuous pinging of the bullets that were being expelled from the wounds, falling to the ground like rain. I would come to welcome that sound, though. It was always better than the screams of the guinea pigs during the transformation, night and day. I couldn't sleep; I couldn't even think. I flew into a rage many times and they gave me some sedatives, which stifled the screams in my ears for a few hours.
Now and then, they gave Raistan a few days to recover. They fed him with pig’s blood, as he revealed to me. ”Impure blood for an impure creature,” the doctor had told him with contempt. They halted the outflow of his blood and let him sleep for a few hours. He was lucky, who could sleep in the midst of those continuous shrieks! After three days of transfusion, the guinea pigs should have been ready, but the first ones died almost immediately in agony. The doctor was stunned and beside himself with rage. He rushed to Raistan, grabbed him by his shoulders, and started shaking him violently without getting any reaction from him. He was motionless, his eyes still covered by the patches.
"Tell me why it isn't working! Tell me!" the doctor yelled in his face, his eyes popping out. Raistan roused himself for just a moment to smile and hiss: "Fuck you, bastard!”
The doctor lost the little control that still remained: he looked around, panting, looking crazed in search of something, then fished out a sort of a long dagger from a steel basin and, screaming, stabbed Raistan in his chest. We all screamed, to be honest, especially when he made an upward force and...
Can I have a glass of water? It's hard for me, too. It was the worst time of all, the one that definitely drove him to the condition that he is now. He didn’t even see the dagger coming. He couldn’t even prepare for its impact. From his throat, a dreadful gasp erupted while his body arched with violence, barely restrained by the metal bands. With a move I still have nightmares about, the bastard threw the knife away and put his hands in the hole, pulling in opposite directions, widening it. Then... then he drove his gloved hand even deeper and... tore his heart out of his chest.’
Enough. Enough.
I couldn't take in another word, I'd go crazy.
I ran out of the room, with my hands covering my ears, followed by the Colonel who didn't look better than I. I cried for I don’t know how long in his arms, then I asked him to accompany me back to my hotel and he didn't object. I want to go home. I want my brothers. More than anything else, I want to wake up in my bed with you by my side and find out that this was all just a nightmare. What am I supposed to do now? What can I do after discovering a thing like that? Actually, an idea is fighting its way in my mind, but it is so foolish and irrational that I won't have the courage to propose it to anyone. Now, I have to rest but I don't know if I'll have the courage to listen to the continuation of Greylord's tale tomorrow. I really don't know.
Goodnight, my love.
Shibeen.
Tel Aviv, August 29
Tonight, I went back to the Mossad clinic accompanied by the Colonel.
He didn’t have the courage to leave me alone last night and stayed with me, but we didn’t have sex. We were both too upset. He asked if I ever considered the idea of killing you if you are unable to heal.
’Of course, I thought about it, I did nothing but all night long. I can't let him live in this state, there would be no point in it and I can’t let him.’
This is a promise, Raistan.
I gave you life and I'll even give you death, if necessary.
What about tonight? Greylord has finished his tale. He looked a little healthier and, given the nature of your recent relationship, I was happy about it. Why aren't you here, in his place? Why do the most terrible things always have to happen to you?
Everyone relies on me, they expect me to snap my fingers and heal you. Can't they realize that I, myself, am groping my way in the dark, too? I don't understand what it is that you have; I wasn’t able to examine you since my attempt to get closer to you failed. How can they presume that I am able to do something? Adam says their doctors are unable to do anything because, until now, they have never had to deal with a vampire. To them, you're clinically dead: how do you handle a dead man if not only to perform an autopsy? For those few who have managed to understand, there’s nothing wrong with you from the physical point of view, apart from the lack of a heart which is, nevertheless, useless because it has already stopped beating for more than three hundred years. They claim that the problem is more psychological, their polite way of saying that you're out of your mind and good luck. Maybe they're right, but the issue of the heart should not be underestimated, in my opinion, at least from our supernatural point of view. What else have you lost with it on that terrible day? More than that, what will you feel that you have lost? It was just a piece of flesh, my love, superfluous as your lungs or kidneys or any other organ, but if you want it back, and my instinct tells me so, I'll bring it back to you. When I tell the Colonel, he will lock me in a padded cell as well, that's for sure. How will I find the courage to ask him to go to recover a heart in a lab that, as far as I know, had been destroyed? Greylord said he doesn't know what the doctor did to it after he extracted it from your chest; they had to sedate him, too, for he metamorphosed on the spur of the moment due to his turmoil. Today, I took with me my cell phone to record every word of what he tells us. Any detail can be useful to help you, who knows. Here's the end of his story anyway.
GREYLORD'S TALE (II)
’When I recovered from the effects of the sedatives, several hours must have passed.
The lab was engulfed in darkness and silence, a sign that it was the dead of night. Even butchers have to rest.
As I was gradually getting back in touch with reality, I heard a sound coming from behind but, for a few moments, I struggled to identify it. My ears were telling me something that my mind was refusing to recognize as such. And yet... those unrestrained sobs, that constant sniffling, even the vibrations of the sheet plate against which I was leaning, were the unmistakable signs of someone who was crying in despair. I remained dumbfounded and, for a moment, I was unable to even say a word, only to hear those horrendous groans which sounded entirely alien to me. Was he crying? Was he even capable of doing that? What about me? Would I have been able to do the same in his shoes? The crying was interspersed, from time to time, with words in a foreign language in a type of incomprehensible petition. I listened for several minutes without uttering a single word, embarrassed as a male can be in the presence of another male in tears. However, I realized that I couldn't remain silent. After what they did to him, hearing a friendly voice could help. I was afraid that he was really on the brink of losing his mind. I would have already lost it a long time ago if I were in his place. On the other hand, what could I say to him? "Hey, I'm sorry they ripped your heart out, how do you feel?" C'mon...
More or less, that's what I told him, anyway.
His response made my blood run cold because it wasn't what one would expect from a person still anchored to reality.
"You're not real... you're not here with me... I'm dead and this is my hell. It's what I deserve, oh yes, yes, it's never going to end, never. I’m dead." More sobs, as if becoming aware of that fact through his own words was more than he could bear.
"Dude, people like us can hardly expect paradise, but this isn’t hell yet, even though it looks like it, and you're not dead, I assure you, not more dead than before, at least. Anyway, I'll be damned if I'm not real and here with you. Look around, it's always the same old lab where they’ve kept us imprisoned for so many days!"
I regretted my words before I even finished saying them: if nothing had changed, his eyes were still covered by bandages and he could see nothing. In fact... "I can't see anything. Nothing. Hell is a very dark place, did you know that?"
&
nbsp; Those were the last words I heard him utter. There was so much despair in them, such terror that I wondered more than once if he could see something in the black surrounding him, something so chilling that not even a being like him could tolerate. With regard to the following days, it was the usual sequence of procedures ranging from unpleasant to horrible. As far as I’m concerned, it was the most grueling phase. They had been able to obtain some healthy vampires and, now, it was my turn to convert them into invincible hybrids. Even on that occasion, they proved to be completely incompetent and groped in the dark. They even forced me to bite the first one. Bite him, can you imagine that? They had no idea of the effect a bite would have on that unfortunate. They still believed the old legends and, when they saw him die after hours of agony, they did not have the faintest idea of what had gone wrong. They, then, decided to try it with just my blood but, before they were able to obtain the correct balance, they did away with about half a dozen of their subjects.
After several days, the doctor came in with an expression of satisfaction imprinted on his face.
He let us know that the experiments were in full swing and that, soon, we would be able to see the enormous strides they have been making. He also advised us not to hope that they would end so soon because, at that point, we wouldn't be useful anymore and... The picture was quite clear, in fact. I don't know how long it was even before this happened, weeks, for sure. I just know that, one day, the doctor came escorted by two armed men, bringing with him a creature in chains looking ominous. He was as tall as I was when I transform, about seven-foot five, very muscular and dark skinned, almost grey, covered with bristly and sparse hair. His most disturbing feature was his face: it seemed as if the mutation had remained suspended half way, giving him a long face, wolf-like, but human at the same time. In his red eyes, you could read both ferocity and intelligence. I heard the doctor talking to Raistan and the sound of a rip, or rather two, and I realized that he had just torn the patches off from his eyes, but the vampire did not let a single word escape, not a clue that would help me understand if he was aware of what he was looking at.
"So, Mr. Greylord, seeing that your friend seems to have lost his ability to express himself, I will ask you what you think about this. Are you proud of your son?"
"That's not my son. My son's name is Malcolm. That's just... an abomination. You are crazy; do you really think you can control such a creature? Better yet, an army of creatures like that?"
"We don't think it. We know it. We have taken our precautions, what do you think? A chip has been inserted in his brain making him docile as a puppy when needed and ruthless when ordered. Look..."
From the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a kind of tiny remote control and pressed a button. The freak immediately started snarling at me, pulling his chains and causing me to flatten against the steel plate behind me. Another push of a different button and the monster turned into a passive and submissive being who allowed the doctor to stroke his back like a puppy. I felt that I had ended up in a science fiction B-movie, I swear.
"This creature is equipped with all of your abilities: immense strength, speed, resistance to injury of any kind, and, more than that, he's immune from the effects of sunlight and the influence of the moon. He has no consciousness, no feelings. I could command him to kill his own mother and he would obey without hesitation. However, he's able to think and make his own decisions as long as these don't interfere with the orders received. If we assign a mission to him, he would follow it to the end, as if his life depended on it. He's the perfect soldier, just what we hoped to achieve when we created this project. Too bad the Sheikh can't see the result of his efforts..."
That was a real surprise, yes.
"Why? What happened to him?"
The doctor's face contorted into a grimace.
"Unfortunately, he had a terrible accident, but his place has already been taken over by a man with his same ambition. You’ll get to know him in a few days, he's very anxious to thank you for your contribution. Then, after that, I'm afraid our journey together will come to an end. Goodbye, gentlemen, it's been a pleasure working with you, especially with you, Mr. Van Hoeck. Oh, I was forgetting to blindfold you again. It is best not to take any risk, even during these final days. I fear that the supplies of food and blood for your nourishment are exhausted. You'll have to fast for a while... See you soon, gents."
He left, his puppy trailing after him, leaving me in complete despair. Thus, the end was near, I imagined. What about him, the crazed vampire? What did he think about all this?
"Hey, Raistan, answer me. I know you can hear me! We have to try to escape again! The next time that lunatic comes back, he'll kill us, do you understand?"
But, I received no reply, neither on that occasion nor in any other. It was as if I was alone. However, during waking hours, I forced myself to talk to him almost constantly. I didn't know how much of what I said overcame the barriers that his mind had erected, but it didn't even matter to me. I was talking for myself because it helped me to remember the people I didn't want to forget. It was everything I had left. Memories, I mean. I told him things I had never told anyone and to which I won't ever refer. It's none of your business and it won't help improve the situation of your friend.
Then, one night, a loud commotion coming from beyond the lab door woke me up with a start. The fear was so great that I almost started a spontaneous metamorphosis, but I was able to repress it on the onset. I am able to think much more rationally in human form. It was a kind of explosion immediately followed by screams, gunshots, and anxious voices in a more and more deafening crescendo.
"Vampire! Hey, vampire, something is going on, can you hear it? Perhaps the cavalry has come!"
I had just finished the sentence when a group of armed men, their faces covered and with automatic weapons pointed, made their way into the lab. Soon after, a high-ranking military came in with a gun in his hand. He looked around and, having identified his target, walked towards us with a look of relief on his face. You, Colonel. To be honest, he didn't even bother with me. He approached Raistan and talked to him in a calm and reassuring tone, as if he was talking to a child. Again, the sound of ripping, but much more delicate this time.
"I found you, Atropos, you see? I have kept my commitment, now we're even! It's over; we're here to free you. How do you feel?"
Your tone, Colonel, correct me if I'm wrong, was getting more hesitant for every second that passed.
"Yes, it's true. Everything about him, from the very first moments, could be summarized in the word ‘wrong’. His immobility, the lack of any kind of reaction, and the completely absent expression in his eyes when I took the patches off them.
"It's me, Sharinsky... the whiner... don’t you remember me? What the hell..."
"It's been like this for some time. He hasn’t uttered a word since... well, I don't know. It's great to see you guys!"
"It's great for us, too. I'm Colonel Sharinsky, Israeli Intelligence. You must be Greylord, the... uhm... Soldier, release this man."
“When Greylord was free, I realized that his condition wouldn't have allowed him to stand on his feet for a long time and commanded my men to look for a stretcher while we went to the side of Atropos. I assure you, seeing him like so gave me the creeps and, when I told my man to set him free, I made a terrible mistake. As soon as the metal bands on his legs and arms were sprung opened, he hurled himself at the soldier who had just finished releasing the locks. A moment later, the soldier was knocked to the ground with a broken neck while Raistan, with his superhuman speed, had already launched himself at another agent who barely had the time to raise his gun and point it at him before being beheaded by a violent backhand.
All hell broke loose in the room. I hadn't even been able to recover from shock yet. I was immobilized, staring at the head covered with a ski mask rolling by my feet, while the other soldiers, ignoring my authority, shouted and decided to shoot Atropos. He did nothing but rest one knee on the
ground, hunched over on himself, as if he was just waiting for the burst of gunfire to end. I ordered a ceasefire and had to shout it out several times before my panicked men obeyed me. When the shooting subsided, he got up and turned his merciless eyes on me.
I believe that I owe my life to Mr. Greylord.
I had just paid off my old debt and, now, I find myself owing someone else. It must be my destiny. He stepped in front of me and ordered him to stop with authority: he did not understand that we were there to help him. Raistan continued to advance forward anyway, his body riddled with bullets from which rose a light cloud of smoke. My men surrounded him from behind; they had been able to suppress their fear and stop shooting as a result of years of rigorous training, but their eyes were clearly saying that the discipline wouldn't be respected much longer. They were terrified, as I was.
’Raistan, stop, stop, it's me!’ Greylord shouted at him, then started transforming right there in front of me.
Another frightening image I'll never be able to forget. Atropos didn't hesitate. He pounced on him and dragged him to the ground beneath him. One of my men stepped forward and struck him on his head with the stock of his shotgun, but got only a terrifying snarl and a murderous glower. We didn’t have any sedatives since we didn't think that it would have been necessary. While Greylord and Raistan were struggling, I realized that, without the help of some chemical, we wouldn't have gotten out of that situation alive without having to kill him. And, even that wasn't the easiest thing in the world either. I began rummaging the cabinets scattered throughout the lab with anxiety, throwing to the ground drawers and bowls full of surgical instruments. Soon, I was imitated by a couple of my men who seemed to have had the same idea. We found nothing, only some vials of thiopental sodium that, even before plunging the syringe in his back, I already knew was useless. And, he didn't even noticed, actually; he continued to struggle with the lycan, trying to bite him in the neck, but with no success.
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