Tap, tap, tap, tap...
Water dripping.
Wait... water? Where the heck was that coming from?
Eric blinked his eyes open and shook his head to clear his mind. Things were a little blurry as he looked around.
Okay, this was not something he'd bargained for when he'd decided to willingly hand himself over to Ben and the supreme council of werewolves. This was not it.
It took a while for his senses to awaken, and when they did...
"Argh! Shît." What the fück? He glanced to his sides and saw his arms fettered to chains hanging from the ceiling of this - silvered? - cell.
Yup, he was in a small cell, from the looks of it. In fact, he could feel hot silver rods embedded underneath the skin of his arms and legs. His feet were bare and held down to the bare silver floor by heavy platinum chains. He was sure it was the same platinum the Omni used to make their swords, because it hurt like a bîtch.
Whoever was behind this had really planned this out well, because they'd caught him off-guard. And he was rarely taken off-guard.
Now, back to the tapping sound. Where was the water? He needed to have a drink for his parched throat.
A rattling sound from within the walls caught his attention. Before his brain could try to analyse what was going on, he felt vibrations in the chains. Whatever was happening was definitely not good.
Just then, the most excruciating current ran through his arms. He clenched his teeth and hissed in pain, not wanting to show his agony.
This went on for minutes, till he couldn't take it any longer.
"Argh!"
He heard a chuckle, which sounded like it came from outside the cell. "Finally awake, huh? Good. This keeps getting better and better." The owner of the male voice jingled something. Eric held his breath in anticipation for the worst. "Let's keep the screams coming, shall we?"
Then, it happened again. This time, it was worse. Electric currents and heat were channelled into the cell and fetters. The hot silver underneath his feet scalded him; the high voltage passing through his arms sent him on screaming sessions. The man wasn't kidding when he said he needed to hear him scream.
The torture went on for twenty minutes in a wave-like pattern. Increasing and decreasing in intensity at certain intervals.
If his torturer was expecting him to beg, he was wasting his time. Eric never begged anyone, not even in fatal situations, and today wasn't going to be his first time.
"Still taking it in, huh?" The torturer tsked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Guess you're not doing the right thing with that mouth of yours."
What the fück was wrong with this guy? He was screaming his tonsils out, for heaven's sake. Wasn't that enough? Was a "please, I'm sorry" necessary? Besides, he didn't have to beg for anything. It wasn't like this was going to kill him.
After two hours, there was silence. Everywhere. Even the hard, thin walls of the small cell echoed his heavy breathing. There was only a little vent high up that served as a window. From the thin rays slithering in, he could tell it was nightfall and the waxing gibbous moon was high up. Probably almost midnight, he guessed. His senses were still in disarray from the aftershocks of the heavy current running through his bones and nerves.
It took several moments for Eric to calm down his breathing and heart rate. His pulse was freaking flying helter skelter, and it was damn hard to put it under control.
Again, whoever was behind this was really good. He had to give him a little credit for trying.
The next sounds Eric heard had him jerking his head up. He squinted his eyes - vision still not one hundred percent - and peered into the dim corner on the left side, away from the moonlight. It sounded like someone was opening the door and coming in.
He heard the metal door shut, then noticed a black figure stalk slowly towards him.
The black figure was a man dressed in black clothes with gloves and boots of the same colour. His figure seemed familiar, but his face was still shadowed.
He sniffed but got almost nothing. Damn hot silver and its stupid effects.
Knowing it was best to remain silent and pretend to be down, Eric watched the man approach.
Moonlight did amazing things - besides helping werewolves heal. It revealed things hidden in the dark. In fact, light in general was a revealer of all things.
"You," Eric seethed angrily.
"Hello, Frederick. How was your evening?" Standing now under the moonlight rays to every eye's visibility, Adrian Maverick smirked down at the fettered teenager. "I hope you enjoyed Physics 101. How about Physics 102?"
"I'll kill you, you... bàstard." He gulped down the choke in his throat, not wanting to cough or croak in front of his nemesis.
Adrian tsked under his breath. "Remember who's in charge here, boy." That last word whipped a growl from Eric's dry throat, which made him cough a little. "Now, that's to teach you."
He started circling him at a slow pace. "I'm sure you remember the summer of 1853." He glanced at the scowl on the boy's face and smirked even wider. "Of course, you do. You should remember it like a vivid dream." He bent low so his lips were mere inches away from his ear. "Or rather, like a nightmare." He quickly moved back and continued his predatory pacing.
"I remember it, too. You howled like a lost, helpless puppy. You cried and whined for help, but nobody heard you. I'm sure if not for the blood bond you have with Konrad as father and son," he wrinkled his nose at that last phrase, "no one would've known of your suffering. And you could've burned, and burned, and burned. Until you couldn't take it anymore. Until you succumbed to your rightful place."
"You're sick," Eric spat.
"You can say whatever you want, but it doesn't take away the fact that I made the so-called mighty hybrid helpless and pathetic once in his life." He added with glee, "And I'm doing it again."
"Go to hell."
"Where do we start?" he murmured to himself, completely ignoring Eric. In a few seconds, a sadistic grin lit up his face. "Ah. I know the perfect thing. Just... hang in here. Okay? Don't go anywhere."
Eric almost rolled his eyes. Almost.
"I'll be right back."
Then, he strode out of the silver box.
It didn't take long for Eric to know what the bàstard was up to. And when he came to the realisation, he hoped to God his throat was ready.
As if on cue, Adrian's voice came from outside. "Are you ready?"
Definitely, Eric said nothing. What was the point? Ready or not, it was going to come.
The wall directly in front of him changed - the panels covering it slid open. They uncovered many round slots - about sixty of them - resembling the butt of a gun, pointing right at him.
For the next thirty minutes, Eric willed himself not to wish for death.
Hot silver bullets were fired from all sixty holes, directly into his strung body. Then, electric currents were passed through him, through his arm fetters. These methods were interchanged one after the other, repeatedly.
"Argh! Argh! Shît. Argh!" Eric's cries and cusses echoed around him, causing painful tingling in his own ears.
When they finally died down, Eric took in big gulps of air in preparation for another session. Surely, Adrian wasn't done.
*****
"Where is he?"
Connor was in Safe Haven now with a hand wrapped tightly around a hunky man's throat. His eyes held fury and his hot breath could roast a whole live turkey.
The purple-faced man choked out small coughs. "I... I... don't... know... who..."
Running out of patience, Connor tossed the man carelessly to a side. His eyes scanned the faces of the timid people packed to one side. Away from him, the predator.
Pathetic humans.
"Where's Stefan?" He didn't bellow the command but every bone rattled at the authority in his voice. Even the music in the background had dwindled at his presence.
Everyone glanced at one another, as if saying to the person next to them, 'You better say something. I'd rather shut my mouth and keep my limbs intact.'
Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally counting to five. If none of these weaklings opened their pathetic mouth, they'd never like the bloody outcome.
"Get me Stefan," he said pointedly to the bartender, who was shaking like a leaf behind a beer tank. The man nodded and scampered off like a scared chicken.
Again, Connor felt pain in his arms and chest. He clenched his teeth to stall the pain. He mustn't look weak in front of these pathetic beings. Instead, he stalked to a bar stool and dropped onto it. He put his head between his hands and rested his elbows on the table.
The pains had begun while he was still spooning with his wife at home. Good thing she hadn't awoken yet, or she'd have dared to step out and rescue their son, even in her condition.
After tracing his son's scent to this place, he recognised this as one of Stefan's evening hideouts. He damn hoped the freaking alpha was around, or he'd tear this place apart.
Speaking of which, where the hell was that bartender?
The man reappeared, still shaking, with a sombre look. "I... I'm sorry, sir. Stefan has left for the evening on an important business."
"What?!" He was sure even the kids in Disneyland could hear his agitated shout. "Where's Logan?" he asked in a pitch one octave lower.
"Not here, too, sir," the man squeaked. His eyes widened, nearly bulging out, when he saw gold rings form around Connor's natural green eyes. "Uh... Sir? Can... Should I... make a call?"
"No." His voice came out husky, but terrifying. "Do nothing." He dragged himself away from the table and out of the building.
Closing his eyes, he let his beastly senses take over. He reopened them and started off in a direction. He was going to do this himself and alone.
*****
"Not giving up yet?"
Eric's head hung low, his chin brushing lightly against his chest.
"Ah. Very resilient indeed. Isn't that what Chelsea said about you when Wilheim asked why you survived the fires? I guess she was right as always."
There was that humming sound again. Eric waited. There was no point fighting. He'd even stopped screaming at some point. His throat was already a goner.
"This might hurt." Adrian made a mocking hiss between his teeth.
And it came. Again. And again.
Both the hot silver bullets and the electric current at the same time.
Eric's limp body vibrated and shook in response to their impacts. Burning pain tore through all his muscles and nerve endings. The skin around his wrists and on the soles of his feet were red and raw, since they'd stopped healing. His bare tattooed chest was scarred with holes here and there. One of the bullets was even lodged at the bottom of his pumping heart.
The only sound he made was a loud sigh.
"Frederick, how do we feel?"
He got no response.
"Frederick? Frederick?" Adrian sighed. "The rest of the Skullers need to hear about this." He whistled excitedly as he walked away from the drilling machines outside the cell.
Inside, Eric closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His inner beast awoke and took over. Sure, it was wounded, along with his vampire side. But he had to do something. Anything. To take that bullet in the base of his heart out.
He cleared his mind of every thought, and allowed both wolf and vampire to merge. Coming together, they turned him into the real hybrid beast that he was.
Doing this was risky. He'd heard that this was a hybrid's most vulnerable state, as well as his strongest part.
This was a last resolve. He had to do it, no matter what. He had to do what he'd never done in nearly a century.
Summoning his darkness.
*****
The scent trail led Connor to a heavily industrialised section with many high-rise buildings and huge factories.
With long, determined strides, he headed towards a particular tower. At one hundred floors, it was one of the tallest here.
Connor paused mid-stride when he saw that the place was deserted. No sign of life or activity. But scents don't lie. His lupine side could detect the presence of people within and without most of the structures.
He took a left turn into an alleyway, which seemed like a short-cut. It wasn't long; he emerged from the path seconds later.
As soon as he did, he heard a familiar laugh. Feminine.
He whirled on his heels and narrowed his eyes at the young woman.
"Inna Litvinenko," he acknowledged curtly.
"Hey, what's got your panties in a twist?" she giggled.
"I have business to attend to." With that, he turned in the opposite direction and strode away.
"I know you're here for Eric."
He stopped and actually turned to look at her. "If you know where he is, tell me."
"I don't. But I have my suspicions." Both of them fell into step and continued on the trail. "I stopped by in town this afternoon, and... words were flying around. Well, somebody told somebody, who told somebody, blah, blah, blah, and a friend told me that the Skullers have the German hybrid. I knew it'd be none other than Eric, and had to show up."
"As rescue hero," Connor mumbled.
Inna grinned, in spite of the gravity of the situation. "I guess, though neither you nor your son would agree to that. Arrogant bàstards."
He huffed. "We're fine without you, Inna. Don't place too much importance on yourself."
"See? Always wanting to look buff and powerful. Are you sexist?"
"I'm married."
"How does Chelsea survive?"
"Ask her yourself."
Their banter stopped abruptly as they were now a few feet away from the tower. They were sure most of the werewolves inside had already sensed their presence.
As if on cue, five people got out of the building, and started towards them.
The two of them glanced at each other, exchanging a silent message. Without hesitation, they met the werewolves head-on.
A battle ensued between them. Two against five. In half-human form, they fought their way out.
Inna left the only woman in the group alive. Connor had already made sure the others were ripped to death.
"Don't," she snapped at him when he made a move towards the woman's heart. "We need her alive for now."
Connor scoffed but turned away.
Inna held her victim by her throat and forced her to look up at her. Her amiable expression now a hard, sinister one. "Now, look here, pup. You've already lost one arm and wouldn't want to lose another. So, tell me where the German hybrid is."
The woman coughed out thick blood from her mouth. "You'd never know."
A fist slammed into her nose. "You better talk if you don't want your tonsils ripped out." She waved her claws at her face for effect.
"I'll... never tell... you," she choked out.
"Here." Connor came over and crouched down in front of the kneeling woman. "Let's do this again. Where. Is. He."
"Never... Never..." Right before their eyes, she dug her claws into her own chest and ripped her heart out. It happened so quickly that they had to gape openly in shock at the fallen body and pumping heart beside it.
"What do we do now?" Inna whispered, breaking out of the trance first.
"We go in." He rose to his feet and started his march towards the tower.
The two Talgans ran into the building, ripping off the head or heart of anyone who came at them. When they got to the fifteenth floor, they paused for a moment.
"We have to ask someone," Inna breathed out. "They must've cleared out his scent."
"I can sense that. It's untrackable now." Connor kicked a headless body under a table. "But asking won't help. These sons of bïtches are under some omertà. They'd gladly die rather than talk." He punched a number on the elevator pad.
"How do we find him?" she asked after she joined him inside the metal box and the doors slid close.
Connor cast a sideways glance at her. "Don't you know how to track wolves? Maybe staying too long in the human world did you no good."
She snorted softly. "Says the man who's been on this side for three hundred years."
"Not in urban regions."
"Really?" She quirked a brow. "How did you become this rich?"
They stepped out of the elevator and continued down the hallway. Connor shook his head. "We're not here to do an interview on my financial status, Inna. Focus."
That last word had her frowning. He didn't have to command her even if she knew this was a serious situation.
There was no more talking as Connor led the way, searching hallways, offices, rooms. Inna simply followed him, thrashing the place when necessary but not causing as much damage as the other Talgan.
She didn't mind, though. She hated the Skullers as well. They seemed to have a vendetta against her own family, but thanks to her brother, they'd laid low for a while.
"Where are you going?" She glared at Connor who was pushing himself through a narrow passageway he'd uncovered behind a bookshelf.
He didn't reply but kept on grunting and pushing.
"You do realise you can't fit through that thing, right?" She sighed aloud and crossed her arms when she still didn't get a response. "Alright. Step aside." She walked towards him, gripped his arm and pulled him out. "Let me."
"You can't get in as well," he breathed out. "It's really narrow."
She snorted and brushed past him to the doorway. "I don't think so." She peeked in and examined the walls.
He rolled his eyes behind her, his big arms folded across his chest.
Inna stood sideways, at right angles to the entrance. She slid her slender figure inside easily. "I fit."
He huffed at the triumph in her voice. "Whatever. Just get in and find a way I can get through."
"Are you sure this is the way?"
He quirked a brow. "Who's the better tracker here?"
"You don't have to answer questions with questions, Connor."
"I do that when stupid questions are asked." Her loud snort reached his ears. "Found anything?"
"No," she grumbled back.
"Be quick. It's already midnight."
"Scared of anything?"
Connor sighed. "You're lucky I don't have to kill you, Litvinenko."
"Sure thing. You wouldn't want Eric at your neck."
"Get over yourself. My son doesn't care much about you any more." He looked inside and saw that she'd reached quite a distance now. "Haven't you found any panel or whatever?"
"Panel? You didn't tell me you're looking for one."
He face palmed himself and grumbled out an exasperated sigh. "What was Natalya thinking when she had you?"
"That I'd be a great daughter."
"Well, she thought wrong," he muttered.
Two minutes later, she pressed something. "Ah-hah! Found it." The narrow passage collapsed into a wider hallway. Connor nodded with satisfaction and stepped in.
"Let's go."
The path led them to a flight of steep stairs leading downwards. They continued down the stairs and ended up in front of three hallways. Here, Connor growled out loud.
"Lost it," he grunted angrily.
Inna cast him a glance but the pain etched on his face made her keep her mouth shut. They're torturing Eric, she realised.
"I... I have to... find him." But as soon as those words left his mouth, he crumpled to the floor.
"Let me do this." She crouched beside him and placed a careful hand on his shoulder. "I can keep looking."
"No. You can't." He took in a big gulp of air. "I can feel his... pain. Like he's being tortured with hot silver. Very hot... silver." He sat back on his heels and leaned against the nearest wall.
Inna raked her fingers through her smooth platinum blonde hair. Her eyes danced around frantically, trying to find a way to help both father and son. Mind made up, she took a deep breath to unleash her senses.
She focused on one of the white-walled hallways, but got nothing. She did the same with the second one. The end had a heavy silver door without a lock.
She refocused her attention on Connor who was very calm now. "I think I've found the room."
"Did you hear his heartbeats?" he whispered.
"I don't know if they're his, but I heard palpitations."
"Let's go then." He rose to his full height.
"Are you up to it?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.
"For some awkward reason, all the pain stopped abruptly."
They speed-walked to the door and broke it down. Although, their skin got slight burns in return.
Behind the door was...
"Eric," Connor gasped. His jaw dropped at the sight of his son. It took him everything in his willpower not to break down there. "My God." He ignored Inna's shocked gasp and walked towards his son's huge form. "Hey, it's me. Your father. Konrad MacAshers."
The being a few feet away pulled out silver rods from its arms and legs, then turned to give him a black-eyed glare. It bared ferocious razor-sharp teeth at him.
Connor tensed on the spot. He held his breath as his son- no, the hybrid beast approached him. It sniffed him up and down, from head to toe. Then, it made a kind of approving sound at the back of its throat. Connor released his breath slowly and ran a hand through the beast's long hair affectionately.
Suddenly, it jerked away from him and turned to snarl at the door.
Inna blinked wide hazel eyes at it. "Hi," she said in a rather strong voice. She'd seen the damage of Eric's beast the first time he'd unleashed it. It was hostile to nearly everything. "I'm Inna Litvinen--" She sucked in a breath as she felt its muzzle on her neck.
After its thorough - but awkward, on Inna's part - survey, it nudged her aside. That nudge had her falling on her backside. She swallowed in the string of curses on the tip of her tongue, but glared at Connor who had an amused look.
Then, it took off.
"After him," Connor barked at her through the mind link. She shoved herself up quickly, and joined him to run after the creature.
It was fast. Talk about the combination of Talgan, Trincula and Vibue speed. It left the hidden hallway, and got into the outer room.
When it reached the window, Connor dived for it. But he was too late.
"No!"
His shout was accompanied with the sound of shattering glass.
"What floor is this?" Inna asked behind him.
"Fiftieth. He'll survive." He turned to her with a grave look. "But no one out there will."
At those words, Inna paled. She knew the implications. Eric's beast plus mankind... Not good.
*****
Oops! The hybrid beast is out on the streets. What are we gonna do? Actually, what are Inna and Connor gonna do? Stay tuned to find out. ;-)