Dark Confusion Read online

  “You are here, my dear, because you are special.”

  “I’m not, I’m just an ordinary girl,” Helena fired back, determined to reveal nothing of what she was. Humans - as she had been taught - were not to be trusted.

  “Ha, there is nothing ordinary about you, my dear,” he said. His voice seemed almost elated as he once again bent down and held out a hand, palm up.“Come, let’s get you off the floor.”

  Helena eyed his hand and then his face, not sure what he wanted. She would only admit to herself that she was aching and cold and wanted off the floor. Tentatively, she reached out with her right hand and placed it within his. He smiled gently as he tugged her into a standing position.

  “See, that’s not too bad,” he said and moved with her, out of the corner of the room. Helena couldn’t stop the trembling that overtook her now that she was standing.

  “There, there, this will help,” she heard his voice say before another pair of hands held her shoulders. “Keep still, I wouldn’t want to mark that pretty skin. Well, not yet, anyway,” the doc said, a smile on his lips as he pulled a metal syringe from his coat pocket. He uncapped the needle and pulled at her arm.

  Helena tried to fight off the hands that held her, only to find another male had moved to her back, stopping any form of escape. He wrapped his muscled bulk around her in a bid to stop her from moving. She again tried to fight but she found she had no strength. She poured everything she had left into head-butting the one behind her and was rewarded with a cry of pain, but not the loosening of his vice-like grip, he only tightened his hold.

  “Keep her still, please, Bruce. I can’t do this with all the shaking she is doing. That was a good shot, though, Bruce. I will give her that.”

  Helena then felt the arms that had wrapped around her, tighten further until she could barely breathe, never mind move. She watched as the needle was placed at the crook of her right elbow, and with no skill, the needle pierced her skin. She cried out from the pain of the needle and then the fire that burned up her arm.

  Her vision once again swam as whatever had been injected into her system took effect, her mind becoming a foggy mess of memories and flashbacks.

  “Hold her, Bruce. We don’t want her hurting herself by hitting the floor. Now wait; what is this?” she heard the doc say as she felt fingers trace her right hand, and her bonding mark. As his touch flickered over the scars from her choosing ceremony, she felt a feeling of repulsiveness before her mind sunk into oblivion and her heart called out to her mate.

  3

  The voices help, the voices understand.

  "Helena...Shhh, it's ok." Callum's voice drifted into her mind. The husky tone made her shiver, along with the ghostly touch of his fingers on her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the dream constant, knowing that as soon as she let go, even a touch, her dream world would vanish and she would be back in the hell-hole prison that had been her home for the past month. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel his lips on her forehead as he tried to wake her from her dream. Only, she knew this Callum wasn't real. In her dream, they lay on his huge king-size bed, the soft cotton sheets caressed her skin as she moved and she breathed in deep of a scent that was only Callum, vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. With it it brought the sense of home. She snuggled into his broad chest as he wrapped both arms around her, holding her close. "I've got you, Helena, and I won't let you go." His voice was deep but quiet and she clutched at the dream, willing it to remain. His presence - although fantasy - made her feel safe and protected. Helena was afraid, afraid of what would happen and if she would, in fact, survive to see her mate again. Would she have the strength to endure? "Helena, you are the strongest woman I know. Fight, baby." His voice vanished and with it, the dream. Helena opened her eyes and fought to hold back the sobs that threatened to overtake her. She let all the pain go with each silent tear and a new determination filled her. She would fight. She wouldn't let them win, and she would see Callum again. Helena wiped her eyes and sat up. She still felt groggy from the current round of treatment she had been subjected to, but her body seemed to be adjusting. She had accelerated healing from her succubi DNA, which meant the toxins would only affect her fully, once. After that, her body would become immune and fight them off. Helena cradled her hands, gently rubbing them against each other. They still hurt after the doc and his guards had tried breaking her fingers to see how much pain she could actually take.The doc seemed to take great pleasure in each and every scream of pain that he pulled from her. She had once tried to use her succubi gifts to make him stop, but that had ended in a severe beating when they had noticed something was different. Luckily, they still had no clue what she was, but that just meant they would try more and more ways to find out. Getting to her feet but unable to keep still, Helena began pacing around her small room and started to hum. This had become a habit, since she had been taken. Only, more recently, it had become a way to keep her sane. She had started to hum the tunes to some of the humans’ cartoon programmes, and for some unknown reason, it annoyed the hell out of the guards that were seated just down the hall. Today’s anthem was the world famous Wombles of Wimbledon, and she couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face as she hummed even louder and was rewarded by cursing from down the corridor. That was one thing they had been allowed to see in Helvetia, they had streamed all of the humans’ TV shows as well as their movies. Especially when some of the stars were immortal as well. The pacing, teamed with the constant drip of the broken water pipe and her humming, made a cacophony of sound that made the dank interior of her cell seem a little bigger. "Shut the fuck up, bitch, before we shut you up."

  Helena walked over to the door of her cell and peeked out of the now open trap door that was used to look in on prisoners and slide food into. "Now, now, you know the doc doesn't want me hurt," she called back.

  She knew she was playing with fire, but she had to fight, even if it was only by being mouthy to the guards who could and would punish her far more than she was capable of taking.

  “He won't mind a few extra bruises.” The loud words held a deadly undertone that Helena knew all too well, and her heart plummeted as she saw the owner of the voice she could never forget, step into her view. His name was Bruce, and he was the most brutal of all the guards. He offered a sadistic smile as he came to a stop in front of her door.

  “Been crying again, princess?” he sniggered out. “Awwwww, you missing your Callum?” he teased. Helena felt her blood start to boil. They taunted her all time and she always reacted. Callum was her weakness and she couldn't stop herself from taking the bait. The medication they had been forcing her to take every day, had many negative side effects. They were affecting her succubi senses and abilities. But even more alarming is they were causing her to talk in her sleep, baring her most private thoughts about her feelings for Callum, which they often taunted her with later.

  “You know, Callum will have moved on by now, princess. He will be banging someone prettier by now. Besides, he's probably some pigeon-chested toddler, anyway.” Bruce laughed and peered into the cell. “Just face it, you ain't ever going anywhere.”

  Helena looked Bruce in the eye and smiled back. He would not wind her up this time, so she kept her reply simple, “Fuck you, lurch.”

  “That's not very lady like, is it?”

  Helena turned her back on the guard and walked back to her bed. Sitting down on the filthy mattress, she let her thoughts turn to revenge. What she would do to Bruce and the doc if she got free, what pain she would exact on them.

  Lying back down, Helena grinned and closed her eyes as torture upon torture idea came to mind, giving her something else to focus on.

  She would get free.

  She had to.

  4

  Where there's pain, there's more pain

  Beep…Beep…Beep…

  “Helena, baby, wake up.” Callum's whispered words forced Helena's consciousness back from the darkness she had been thrust into
and returned her to a world of pain and agony.

  Beep…Beep…Beep…

  The constant beeping penetrated her skull first, and then the pain overtook her body, forcing it to arch on the cold metal table as a scream ripped from her throat.

  Everything hurt, not just an ache like when your muscles had been overworked, but a searing pain that boiled and rolled through her. She forced her eyes open as cries continued to fall from her throat and was faced with the smirking face of the doc.

  “She's back. Phew! That one was close. Sweetheart, please try not to do that again. Ideally, I need you alive.”

  Her chest heaved as she forced oxygen in and out of her lungs, although it hurt. Her eyes quickly took in everything, not sure how she had gone from dozing on the camp bed to being strapped naked to an exam table. Her body was exposed for all to see, but when she looked down, expecting to see her pale skin, she saw a gaping hole in her stomach.

  “Wha-What have…” She couldn't finish the sentence as the pain flowed through her once again.

  “Oh, that. “ The doc smiled again and moved down the table before he pulled at an instrument protruding from her body. Instantly, Helena felt sick as a wave of pain coursed through her, so painful she nearly blacked out.

  “I was just doing some exploratory surgery when your blood pressure dropped so low you almost flat-lined. So we had to bring you out of anaesthesia. I'm thinking we will have to finish this with you awake.” He paused and turned to collect a few more instruments before he turned back and bent close to her. “This may hurt, try not to move too much.”

  Helena closed her eyes and clenched her teeth together as he continued to mess with her internal organs - pulling and prodding. As screams tore from her throat Helenas only thought was of death, of being allowed peace and a pain free existence. But she knew no matter how hard she begged, it would be futile. That was one request the doc would never agree to. The pain continued to flow through her body, making muscles and nerves twitch in response, until Helena couldn't take any more and she let sweet oblivion take her.

  “Come on, baby, you've slept enough.” His voice calmed every nerve, muted the pain and soothed her soul. There would be nothing better than to wake up to Callum and know he was real.

  “Helena, I know you can hear me.” Her fantasy mate wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his hard body, his fingers stroking the skin of her bare arms. She felt them move to her hand and to the mark of their bond.

  “Soon this will be so dark, there will be no doubt we are bonded, baby. No doubt you are my female.”

  She wanted to smile at his words, but didn't dare in case the dream vanished, so she stayed still and listened. Callum had never spoken like this in the past, so she would take in the moment and savour it.

  “There isn't a place on this earth that I would not follow you, Helena, my love, my bonded.”

  His words started to fade until the dream had gone, replaced with darkness and silence. But even this was better than The Vault. Anything was better than The Vault.

  5

  Drips and Darkness

  Drip…Drip…Drip…

  That sound had become almost comforting to Helena, that and the constant voice in the back of her head that reassured her. It was like Callum was with her, helping her through every second of the day, keeping her strong.

  Words of love and encouragement helped her deal with some of the horrors the doc would inflict on her. Most of the time she would shout out how much she hated the doc, hated the men that helped him and hated The Vault. She came up with numerous ways they could die for what they were doing to her and the other captives. When Helena wasn't being subjected to the doc’s personal attention, she would sit in her cell and listen to the others call out for help or scream into the night as the effects of whatever they had been given, took effect.

  The frequency in which new captives appeared should have concerned Helena, but she had long stopped caring about anything.

  She looked at her fingernails - or what was left of them - as she sat cross-legged on her bed. She had awoken this time to find each nail had been removed and all she was now left with were blood-coated, bare nail beds. Every movement of her fingers caused them to throb and ache, but what caused her the most concern was after what felt like most of the day, they were still bleeding.

  She had started to notice small changes within her body a few weeks back, but now she had noticed that her usual immortal healing abilities seemed to have stopped. She now bore scars of the doc’s cruel treatment and her body retained every agonising muscle memory of the enjoyment he took out on her.

  It had been months since she had been clean. The doc liked to keep her in a permanent state of discomfort, which included no showers as well as minimal food and medical treatment. Her long dark hair felt matted. She had tried to contain the locks by braiding it, but every time she came back from being “treated”, it was loose. The doc had started to display more and more obsessive behaviour towards her, but had also started to become more brutal with his treatments.

  Helena had lost weight since she had been taken and she knew if she looked into a mirror, she wouldn't recognise herself. She would be surprised if anyone would.

  She had once been curvy. That was one of the things Callum used to mention when he held her in his arms: that he adored each and every one of her lush curves; that they were made to fit his hands alone. Now he would look at her and see only a shell of the woman she was, be repulsed by the new scar that now bisected her torso. She may have woken up this time with bleeding nails, but the memory of the pain she had been in before darkness had taken her was fresh in her mind. To look down your body and see your internal organs being moved and prodded… The physical and psychological pain had been indescribable. She had blacked out not long after.

  Helena lifted her blouse to look at the raw wound. Large, ugly staples held her skin together, but blood still seeped slowly from it, soaking into her blouse. It caused a constant throb, and whatever the doc had done on the inside hurt even more.

  “Shhhh, Helena, baby, I got you.” Callum’s whispered voice filtered through her mind. To her, it sounded like it filled the small cell, but she knew she was the only one that could hear it. Tears collected in her eyes and slid down her cheek as she tried, with everything she had, to hold on to the fantasy of him.

  “I can't last much longer, Callum. They are killing me,” she whispered back as she curled into a ball on the camp bed. She looked at her palm, her bloody fingers tracing the pattern.

  “Baby, you can and you will. I’ve got you and I won't let you go.” His voice soothed only a fraction of her soul. Her heart ached, a pain that was nearly as bad as the physical.

  “Callum, I love you. I don't want to die here.” Helena sobbed on her words as her body started to shake. She could feel her body going into shock and she went with it. Maybe now she would get peace.

  “I'm coming, baby, I’ve got you.” Callum’s calm voice caressed her mind as Helena did the one thing she knew would allow her to escape, if only for a short while.

  She let darkness take her.

  6

  Dignity there, dignity gone…and my soul

  "Helena,” he called out again. Helena wanted to answer but found she couldn't - her voice wouldn't work. Inside, she called Callum's name, begging him to not leave her. To save her from the nightmare her existence had become. But every time she felt she was getting closer to his voice, it would vanish completely.

  Helena craved oblivion. She yearned for the weightlessness and pain-free existence that only oblivion could offer.

  “Helena.” His voice sounded again before it drifted away on a whisper, her hope seeming to go with it. Callum would not rescue her, no one would. Helena had finally accepted that, but she would never show how hopeless she actually felt, not to the doc. That man preyed and focused on weakness. He hunted out hers and if he found them all, he would destroy her.

  “Subject 12.” The d
oc’s cold voice, devoid of feeling, penetrated the fog of unconsciousness that she had been cocooned within. It dragged her back to reality and back to a nightmare full of pain.

  “Wakey, wakey, sweetheart.” Helena blinked before squeezing her eyes shut again as the bright light from above, burned into her retinas, the searing pain bringing her to full consciousness.

  “That’s it. It’s about time you woke up. I need you bright as a button today. We have lots of fun planned.”

  Adjusting to the light, Helena slowly opened her eyes to find the doc’s face looming over her. It was a face she had come to loathe. Everything, from his pale eyes, to his balding hair and tea-stained teeth, set her on edge. This time he had a grin on his face, a grin that sent a shiver up her spine.

  “Ahh, that's good, we like to see those beautiful eyes of yours.”

  Helena’s gut tightened as hatred for this man filled her. She had never been a violent person; she had been brought up away from the violence of her kind. When she looked back on her life - as short as it was - she realised she had been sheltered. Not only from the human world, but also the immortal domain where she had resided.

  Her kind, by the order of the high counsellor, Michael, had been banned from any travel to the human domain without the protection of an enforcer. It had been his way of “protecting” their kind, yet it felt more like he was trying to restrict anything they did. He had demonstrated his force as a leader by stopping all bondings that were usually arranged at birth. This had been the tradition for their kind since records had begun. Initially, Helena and many others had thought this would be ok for their kind, that they were moving with the times and transitioning into the modern world. But before she had taken her regretful trip, there had been whispers of Michael now forcing bondings in an attempt to keep the bloodlines pure.