Four months later #8
Eugene straightens his shoulders, his neck cracking unpleasantly as if bone spurs are shifting under the skin. The thick dark purple lines on his forearms don’t let me forget what kind of monstrous type of alpha he really is.
"For a moment I hoped you’d say you knew nothing about this, but looks like you know plenty, and that only makes my decision easier."
I mutter under my breath, because he baited me, twisting everything so I couldn’t help but push back.
"And what decision is that."
"You’ll find out everything soon enough. Be patient, Alex. It’s not like I’m holding anything against you. You weren’t the one who did all this. But you were the first domino, and you can still end up being a way to make him feel the pain he deserves."
"This is sick, and this is not going to end well," I mutter as I look around frantically, searching for something or someone or anything that could help me escape. But we’re alone, and the room is bare except for this horrible metal mortuary refrigerator.
"Do you know where Bay is now?" he asks slowly.
I take a deep breath because my heart is beating even faster, even wilder.
Eugene’s grayish face twists into a mocking smile.
"I honestly thought he’d be harder to catch, but no one is immune to sleeping gas, not even him. All it took was releasing a little of it inside his SUV and that was it."
"Where is he," I whisper, my teeth clattering so hard I barely understand my own words.
"In a temporary safe spot, before we start the show," he says with a dark smile.
A groan escapes me. "Let us go, please, I beg you, I swear we will not take revenge, just let us go."
I know how idiotic that sounds, how absolutely impossible it is after he has spent twelve years waiting for this chance, so Eugene does not even answer. He only rises, and I almost lose the air in my lungs when I see how gigantic he is.
Yes, during the court case, I only saw him from afar. Now he seems like a true giant. I guess he must be close to seven foot six, if not taller.
His body is monstrous, his muscles bulging and knotted, and when he moves, his steps pound against the ground. I know some purple alphas can weigh about one thousand one hundred pounds, and he looks like one of them.
And he is not fat, oh no. You can feel that raw, primal strength coming off him, the kind only a purple alpha can have.
My breath catches hard in my chest.
"My inhaler," I whisper, "you’ll kill me if you take it from me, this whole game will end too fast…"
I start wheezing loudly, even louder than I need to. Eugene tilts his head a little, watching me for a moment, then says,
"You have it in your pocket?"
I nod eagerly.
"I’ll send someone to deal with it."
Then he turns and leaves the room. He doesn’t touch me, which is a shame.
My heart is pounding like crazy. This might be my only chance, the only one I have to get out of here…!
I wait a moment, wheezing as loudly as I can so that if anyone walks past the door they’ll hear that something is actually wrong.
Sure enough, about five minutes later the door opens and the omega who brought me here walks in.
You bastard, you lured me here to die, and I’m not going to show you any mercy. The thought flashes through my mind, but of course I keep it to myself.
"Hey, darling," he says, and it hits me that he must have been the one who wrote those texts. I bet Eugene would never come up with that tone, the damn traitor.
"Help me," I whisper softly, hoping he comes closer, "please help me, I’m losing my breath."
"Is this a trick? I’m not helping you, darling. Because of you two of my brothers died. If you think I’ll show you any mercy, think again."
"Just… the inhaler," I whisper, looking at him pleadingly.
He exhales loudly in frustration.
"Please…!"
"Fine, that I can do, but don’t expect me to let you out of here."
Oh, you’ll let me out, bastard, one way or another. I’m getting out of here over your corpse if I have to, I think, blood boiling in my veins.
But I make an innocent face, even a little teary, and the omega comes closer, slipping his hand into one pocket, then the other, and finds my inhaler.
"How does this work," he mutters uncertainly, looking at the device.
"Just press it once and then bring it to my lips so I can inhale the dose. You only need to help lift my head a little, I’m really weak," I whisper faintly.
With a slight grimace he presses the inhaler and then does exactly what I need him to do. His hand slides under my neck and touches my bare skin as he tries to lift my head…
And that is his mistake.
I squeeze my eyes shut and do exactly what I did to Oswald. In one powerful pull, I rip the life from his body…
It floods into me, but this time, for some reason, I don’t let it disperse. I hold on to it with everything I’ve got.
The omega’s body stiffens, grays, pales, shrivels, looking almost like a dry husk…
He collapses on top of me, pinning me down with his weight, and I groan because he’s not a small omega.
Now he’s lying across me, right over my stomach.
I curse under my breath.
Shit.
I really didn’t think this through. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I killed him and so what? I’m still chained up. Damn it.
To think I’m Blue’s nephew, yet the only thing I seem to have inherited from his genius side is the ability to do flashy tricks like calculating a natural logarithm to four decimal places!
I turn my head and look at my hands. Both are cuffed to the bed rail.
Uhmmm… wait.
I have really small hands and thin wrists. Maybe I could…? They don’t make standard cuffs for people like me. I’d need an extra-small or something.
I start pulling and twisting my hand with all my strength. I have to press my thumb painfully deep into my palm, and it hurts, scraping my skin, but after about three minutes of steady pulling I manage to free one hand. Yes!
A moment later, now knowing what motion works best, I free the other hand in under a minute.
Success, at least partially. I sit up, but then realize… so what? My legs are still chained to the bed frame, and there’s no way I can slip out of those. My feet are small but not that small.
I quickly search the omega’s pockets, but he doesn’t have the keys. What now, what the hell now…?
Wait a second. Could that energy I absorbed have given me a bit more strength?
I grab the bed rail and pull, but it doesn’t feel any easier than usual. And yet I feel that energy boiling inside me, coursing through me…
Then a terrible thought hits me, something no normal person would ever think of.
This energy…
Could I use it for something? Something truly monstrous.
Creating… an abomination.
I touch the omega’s cheek and try sending a little of that energy back into his body.
I let out a small squeak when his body twitches.
Oh fuck. What the hell. I curse, hesitating for a moment, trying to decide if I should keep going…
This is grotesque, disgusting…
Meddling with a deceased body, it sounds so wrong.
But I don’t have another choice.
I have to use anything I can, no matter how awful. Either this or Bay and I die.
So with that motivation, I try again, releasing part of that stored energy and pushing it back into the omega’s body.
It twitches again, this time head to toe. His legs jerk slightly.
This time I don’t pull out of that strange energetic connection. I hold him on a kind of energetic tether.
What if I could make use of that tether?
In my mind I create the motion and force his body to pull itself upright…
Swaying, the omega rises.
Fuck! A horror show!
Still gray and cold, but the creepy abomination is standing.
His eyes, empty, inhuman…
I burst into a stupid nervous laugh and stare for a moment, stunned.
Holy shit, I created a zombie…
Could I do more? Could I control him more consciously?
I force him to take a few steps, still tethered, steering him with my will.
He walks, stiff but responsive.
I make him turn, then kneel by the bed. I force him to grab the bed rail. It’s the typical hospital-style bed with thick metal bars.
He’s not as big as an alpha, but he’s sizable enough, maybe thanks to his grandfather’s genes. He’s at least five eleven and decently built.
I force him to brace both hands on the rail and start pulling with all his strength.
I push pulses of energy through him with each pull. I’m surprised by how much force this zombie can generate. The frame creaks painfully, again and again.
Pull, zombie, pull!
Crack!
The rail pops free from the frame. Perfect!
Now I can slide the cuffs off. I’ll still have them hanging from my ankles, but that’s fine. I drag the cuffs over the rail and stand up.
"You did wonderfully, darling," I say, patting his shoulder, stressing the word darling with a good dose of dark sarcasm.
His eyes are so… empty and wide open. I could take back the energy I gave him, but why not use him a little more?
I’m about to head with him toward the door when my gaze catches on the huge wall of metal drawers again.
The mortuary refrigerator looks kinda impressive, it’s forty feet long and…
If this is an active funeral home, there should be corpses inside, dressed in nice suits and ready to be presented to grieving families in open caskets. But maybe I could make use of them too…
I’m a disgusting person, sure, blasphemous even, but I’m fighting for my life, and their bodies aren’t going to need anything anymore.
I order the zombie to open the drawers one by one.
Most are empty, but three of them hold unsettling contents.
One by one, the zombie slides the bodies out, lying in the refrigerated body drawer… or trays, however you wanna call them.
One is an older alpha, a bit overweight, maybe died of a heart attack, though I’m not about to diagnose him.
The second is a very old beta, a librarian type.
The third is a young alpha, slim and athletic. I’m curious what killed him. They covered it well with makeup, so it’s not obvious, but I start with him.