Chapter 20 #2
But not even my nature could overcome Damien because it wasn’t about me. It was about that fucking cabin and the people who were inside it. All of this was.
Damien tightened his grip slightly before releasing me. As if to give me a little good boy pat. I pulled my fangs back and sat up.
“You haven’t cried since you’ve been here,” Damien said. “We’ll have to get that figured out.”
“Concerned about my emotional well-being?” Today, he wasn’t wearing a clean room suit. Just gloves, glasses, and the oxygen mask. His tank sat beside him on the floor. He was trying to build an immunity. Or at least, test his limits.
“Phoenix tears are said to have interesting qualities. I want to study yours. Stand up.” He stood up from his own chair. Every nerve in my body willed me to stay seated. I ground my teeth, closed my eyes, and stood, looking at him blankly.
Damien punched me in the gut. I dropped to my knees from the shock of it. The air was knocked out of me, and an intense, sharp pain spread through my midsection. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. A smile spread over his face behind the oxygen mask.
“Good job, Baz,” he said as tears slid from my eyes. He pulled out a vial and scooped one up. I fell to my hands and knees as he dropped my face and backed away, holding the vial up to look at the liquid. “Looks completely normal, but I bet this could kill an elephant.”
I crawled towards my bed. My stomach felt sore. My arms shook as I went. The anemia was just as bad as the oxygen deprivation, if not worse, because it never went away.
Suddenly, Damien was by my side, helping me into bed. I hated when he did these sorts of things. Fucking aftercare to his abuse. My dad had always made it easy. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness. I realized now that it had been a blessing because this fucked with my head.
Once I was settled on the bed, Damien’s eyes slid low on my body. I glared at him.
“You become erect whenever you give the fang sample,” he said.
“Whoops.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his mouth. There was no idea what he could be plotting. The man was brilliant, I’d give him that. And he knew a lot. He’d made an interdimensional portal afterall. And he’d found a way to get his powers, despite being born without them. Something I refused to ask about.
“Just one sample,” he started. I sighed and turned onto my side, giving him my back.
“Your sexual capabilities are an important aspect of understanding your powers.”
“I’m not being milked into a cup on camera.”
“Did you know that extracting venom from snakes is called milking? Technically, you’ve already been milked.”
“Living the dream,” I grumbled.
“What about off camera?” He asked. I glared over my shoulder at him.
Damien shrugged and walked off. I wondered if he even wanted the sperm sample he kept asking about.
He obviously had no issue with force when it came to the rest. He was either faking wanting a sample as a manipulation tactic—trying to make it seem like he could respect some boundaries.
Or, he knew this was a line that, if crossed, would ruin my good behavior.
I’d play at being his pet, but I wouldn’t let anyone touch me in that way.
No one else would ever touch me that way again.
Damien looked at his watch, collected the samples, and left the room. Pulling my sleeve down, I checked Orson’s watch too. I’d noticed a while ago that Damien spent longer in here each time. Made contact with me a few extra times, too.
Every action and word from Damien was purposeful. Grabbing me, punching me, helping me up on the bed. Sure, he was collecting samples and trying to brainwash me. But he was also slyly testing himself and microdosing on venom.
They ran resistance tests here all the time.
So far, they were going terribly. If Damien was closer to an antidote, then I wasn’t aware.
He had two goals with me. The first was to turn my venom into a weapon of mass destruction.
The second was a short term antidote for those who could afford to live.
Evil corporations were never really all that creative, were they?
Damien didn’t want to rule the world but he did want to sell it back to the people who could afford it. Imagine that? A subscription service to life itself. A monthly cure paid to the man who was poisoning you. Well, up until you couldn’t afford whatever price he put on a month of life.
With such a lofty goal, I understood now why he was so determined to keep me above all the others.
Admittedly, I’d never knew a lot about what Supra was up to, but I had seen the tests they’d made Zero run at the asylum—creating new pharmaceuticals for supernaturals.
Things like inducing heats, creating mating bonds …
Apparently, the whole reason they invented portals was to find rumored cures in other dimensions.
Instead, they got Zero, the Eldritch horror.
In the end he did in fact give them advances in so-called medicine in one way or another.
So, guess Damien would check that off as a win.
Damien was standing in the hall, peeling off his protective gear and shoving it in the biohazard box. I could hear the hall fans working double time to clear any potential venom leakage as he pulled off his oxygen mask and slipped back into his room.
Why was Damien testing his own resistance? It was an unnecessary risk that worried me.
I wasn’t an idiot. Ambush predator. That’s why Nemo said. And the basilisk's method of ambush? Luring.
Nemo had been half mad with lust before the airport.
It’d only take an hour in the back of the van before he’d abandoned his self-imposed chastity and fucked me while Bree and Orson sat front row.
And here, people lingered. The extractors pressed their gloved hands against me too long and ended up dead on the floor.
Scientists found themselves in the hall outside my room, just watching.
So the question begged to be asked. Was Damien slowly minimizing the space between us because he simply couldn’t help himself? Disloyal ass. What about Levi, huh? I swallowed thickly. What about Levi? I was still dreaming that Damien flayed my skin.