Aaliyah POV
I wake in a cold sweat. Shivering from the feeling of the damp cement below me, I push up off the ground. I feel my muscles scream against me, but I still manage to sit forward.
No, I think to myself as I realize what I've just done. I'm strong enough to sit myself up, then I'm strong enough to go through surgery again.
I can't do this again.
My eyes move to the metal door as it creaks open. Dr. Anderson comes waltzing into the room with his sadistic smile breaking his lips.
"I see you've healed nicely," he smiles down at me, "Your surgery is scheduled for an hour."
I shake my head no as I try to fight back against the orderlies that walk in behind him. But it's no use. I have no real strength to fight any more.
The men throw my onto a wheeled patient slab and start to cart me towards the surgical room. I scream out, pleading at them to stop this, to not cut into me again.
But my words fall on deaf ears as I'm moved again and strapped down. I hear Anderson saying something about where to start, but all I hear is the buzzing of my heartbeat monitor.
I scream as the silver metal scalpel penetrates my skin over and over again. I scream and beg and plead for them to stop, to let me die.
As the blackness creeps into my vision, I pray to any god listening that this will be the moment. I pray that I never wake up again.
My prayers are ignored.
I wake up.
*****
Every moment I wake up, it's the same moments over and over again.
I wake in my small cement cell with just enough energy to lift myself up. Fear floods through me as I realize I'm starting to heal.
The doctor and orderlies drag me from the room and take me to surgery. They cut into me again while I scream for them to stop. I beg for death, only to be denied.
I hear the buzzing of my heartbeat stop and the darkness welcome me.
But it doesn't last. The doctors shock my heart. They bring me back. They deny my wish for death all so they can continue their experiments.
I will never be fear.
*****
I hear a soft creak of the metal door nudging open. Peeling my eyes open, I see a pair of dark shoes invade my vision before the person kneels down next to me.
"Angel," he whispers, his tone pleading with me. For what, I'm not sure.
I try to move, but the pain is too much. I also know what will happen if the doctors catch me moving. No more surgeries.
"Angel, please. You have to get up," he tries again. His voice is so soothing and sweet. The deep masculine tone flitters against my memory like I know who it belongs to, but his name is just out of reach.
"Come on, Angel. I'm going to get you out of here," he tries again. Now I know this isn't real. He's not real.
"Not real," my words barely break through the stifling air of the cement cell.
"I'm very real, Aaliyah. I need you to get up," his hands move to help move sit up. His hand turns my cheek so our eyes meet.
Looking into his gaze, I'm met with a deep chocolate gaze of a beautiful man.
"We need to get out of here."
He tries to lift me up, but I push against him, "No. This is a trick."
The doctors have used others to try this before. They wanted me to believe I could escape so I would fight longer. If I was fighting, I was staying alive.
I won't give them it. I'm done fighting. I'm done living.
"You are not done fighting, Aaliyah!" the man growls, seeming to read my thoughts, "You escaped this lab. You learned to trust people again even though they terrify you. You taught me what truly loving someone meant and you show me your courage every moment we are together. You are the strongest person I have ever met."
I shake my head, knowing I'm not strong.
"I'm not a trick. I am your mate," he states as an absolute fact, "And I am not leaving here without my angel."
I'm his mate? Is he real? Can I trust him? Questions fill my head as I try to remember the answers.
"Remember me, angel. Remember," he whispers before moving closer to place his lips on mine. The kiss is slow as he lets me feel our connection. Images float across my mind as I remember the man in front of me.
Him sitting by me bedside everyday, talking and laughing as he tells me stories. Walking through the woods around the pack and holding hands. Our home together and the safety I feel every time he is near.
His words of love.
"Aaron," I whimper as my memories connect.
"I'm here, angel," he kisses me again before pulling back, "It's time to go."
He stands up and offers his hand out for me to take.
"You trust me?"
Placing my hand in his, I nod, "Yes."
He smiles and pulls me up into his arms, "I'm getting you out of here. It's time for you to wake up."
But before he can take a step forward, the door opens again. Dr. Anderson waltzing in the same way he always does with his sinister smile.
"Looks like we have a new specimen," he says, snapping his finger towards the other men, "Take them both."
I feel hands rip me from Aaron as he fights five guys off. I feel the familiar blade press against my throat as the doctor tisks at Aaron. He stops fighting the moment he sees it, fear swimming in his eyes.
"Don't hurt her," he says to the doctor before turning to me, "Aaliyah, this isn't real. You need to trust me. This is just a memory. You need to wake up."
"Oh I'm going to hurt her," he says behind me, "We have a surgery this morning."
They move us both down the hall and into the surgical room. I watch as Aaron is strapped to the wall of the room. He pulls against the chains, but they don't budge.
The doctors throw me onto the table as I try to fight them, but nothing works. I'm still stuck in this cycle.
I hear my scream rattle my mind as I push against the restraints holding me down. My body is strapped against the cold surface of the metal table with the surgical lamps blinding me from above.
I can hear his voice ringing in my ears as he screams for them to stop. But I know they won't.
Science can not move forward without experimentation.
"Let her go!" he roars as I hear him pulling against his restraints. I want to tell him it's no use. They aren't going to stop.
The doctor above me pushes the scalpel into my skin as I scream out.
He roars as Anderson cuts deeper into my body. The beeping echoing around the room speeds up as the pain intensifies.
"Stop!" Aaron screams.
I feel darkness start to crowd my mind as the pain becomes too much to bear.
Aaliyah! Don't you dare give up on me, he calls out to me, Hold on, angel.
I can't do this anymore, I hear my whimper in my head. The only thing I can feel is pain. I don't even know if he heard my reply.
Stay with me, angel, Aaron whispers, Please don't give up. We don't end. Not like this.
It hurts, I can barely whimper my response to him in my mind, I can't... I'm sorry.
No, angel. This is all my fault. I should have protected you, he says to me, I'm so sorry I failed you.
No, he can't blame himself. This wasn't his fault. He didn't fail me.
He could never fail me.
He's my protector, my lover, my best friend, and my mate. He is the best person I have ever met.
Using the only energy I have left, I tell him the words I should have said since the moment I knew I never wanted to leave his side. Since the moment I knew he was my hero.
I love you.
I feel my mind moving towards the darkness.
The last thing I hear is the sound of his cry and metal breaking as the heart monitor flatlines.
This is the moment I die.
But the darkness stops. I feel everything stop. There's no pain or horror. I feel light as heat floats around me.
"Angel," he whispers above me. I feel his hands run over my face as he leans forward to kiss my forehead, "This isn't real, Aaliyah."
"Real?" my voice is a low whisper, afraid to break the bubble of safety my last moment has found.
"You're lost in your memories of the lab. You're safe right now. You're at home in our bed. I'm holding you tight, waiting for you to open those beautiful eyes of yours right now."
"Aaron, I want to go home."
"Just wake up, angel. Wake up and come home."
"How? I'm trapped," I pull against the restraints on my wrists again.
Aaron moves so fast it barely registers in my mind as he snaps the cuffs.
"It's time to wake up," he says again as he lifts me into his arms and starts to head towards a bright red door, "I need you to trust that this isn't real. You need to believe that."
"I trust you," I whisper, cuddling into his chest. Maybe this is death. Maybe this is how I start my afterlife, in the arms of the man I love. In the arms of my mate.
Real or not, as Aaron carries me through that door, I know it's going to be okay. I'm with my mate.
I have my mate.