▽ ᴘᴀʀʟɪᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴏɴ ғɪʀᴇ

[Remington Rothfelder]

It seemed that Micah was not appreciative of the lack of answers, which Remington understood all too well. He had attempted to drag some of them out of her only a short while before, and she had been reticent to give him anything at all. Velveteen was on the phone, and Remi had mostly just stood back during the whole thing because he didn’t believe in really doing anything unless he could in some way add to the situation. He suspected that the two leaders of Ty were better set for handling the situation than he was. And that was when he watched the metallic blade get forced right through fabric and flesh all of the way through to a chair.

The scent of blood was faint at first, but it was there. The knife cut down on the bleeding by keeping the wound filled, but the smell of it hit his nostrils like a brick to the face. He came into contact with blood every day of his life. He had to drink it to survive, and most of the time. Well, most of the time it just wasn’t an issue. But sometimes, he just…lost it. That strict sense of control and discipline that helped to define him went completely out of the window and he just went crazy. The first time it happened, he hadn’t even been hunting. He’d been in one of those buildings filled with nothing but gangsters shortly after having returned to Harper Rock.

He had actually been hunkered down for the night with his gun and blade close at hand while he waited for the daylight to pass. There was so much carnage lying all around, dozens of corpses littering the floor, and it just became overwhelming. The smell of it was like an assault and it grated on him until he’d just snapped. He hadn’t blacked out, but he hadn’t really had any control over himself. It was like a man with an addiction in that sense. He’d torn through twenty or more men and women before he even realized he’d pulled out his sword. By the end of it, he’d been snarling, his entire body coated in the fluid that’d set him off, the fluid congealing to him, leaving him looking like he’d survived a massacre. He had.

He had to grit his jaw in order to stop himself from doing something, his fist clenching and then unclenching so he didn’t rip the woman’s spine out through her mouth. He was about to excuse himself when the wave of…whatever it was passed through him and he reigned in his need. He didn’t know how long it would last though, before that hunger for blood returned and he needed to tear her limb from limb. So he grabbed the mask off of the table and took a step towards the back of her chair. He slid the thing over her head while she was preoccupied with Micah. The padlock went on just a second later, and the click of it into place announced that it was done.

“You will learn now, or you will learn later, Satine. This is how we see you. This is what you are to us. You are a little white rabbit caught in the talons of a giant owl. We are not on equal footing here. You are food to us. The sooner you come to accept that, and give us the answers we want, the sooner you can find out if your fate is life or bird ****. You understand? “ He stepped back then, and then slid around the chair so that he could peer over the mask.

“And if you piss yourself, you can lay in your own filth. Like an animal, otherwise hold it. You're a big girl, I am sure you can.” With that, he made his way towards Vel, who was still on the phone. He caught the tail end of her part of the conversation, but for the most part, he just wanted to put a little pace between himself and the human before he did something stupid.

[Satine]

There was no warning. Perhaps the suggestion of a different approach was a brief hint but it was lost on Satine. She was using all of her energy just to stay in control. If she didn’t she was done. She knew it. So far the worst thing taking place was they had knocked her out and hauled her limp form to some hut. She still had no clue why it was called a hut. They had her restrained to a chair which was beginning to make her *** hurt. That and she really had to piss. Her lips still were split and that throb was building where Velveteen busted her in the head and knocked her out. They had the white rabbit helmet on the table and were demanding answers. The helmet over her head she hated the idea of. However, if the three staring her down like vultures waiting for the roadkill to stop struggling could only come up with that as a means to extracting information from her then it was fair to say they needed more practice on their technique.

Nothing about what was happening made sense. Not one god damned thing. Who were they? This was like a totally different world above and beyond what she had been exposed to and she thought she had seen it all. Something was incredibly off with each of them. Her mind couldn’t put it together and why should it? It would be accepting the absurd. She was left to the limits of her reality and human instincts.

The blade Satine never counted on came to view with the movement of Micah’s large hand rising from his boot. How she kept her eyes on the menacing three and his hand traveling to his boot was beyond her but she managed it. Now her eyes widened to attention. If **** wasn’t getting real before then Crocodile Dundee pulling his knife move certainly was making it happen. Her eyes tracked the blade while he rambled on about how well he took care of his weapons which of course she didn’t doubt. She was about to dismiss his turn on the soap box of interrogation until he brought it to her face. It was moving. The cold edge created a hot line at the side of her face. Did he actually cut her? Her cheek was the source of the dripping blood landing on her chest. She looked down at the growing spots that spread over the material they landed on. He did!

Satine’s mouth went dry at the awareness and her heart was racing faster than a hummingbird's wings could flap. That is when she felt the firm pat of his massive hand kiss the side of her face. Now she was having second thoughts on the effectiveness of her bold attitude. The man hardly seemed to lack a willingness to up the ante in the current standoff.

That is when everything changed. Satine felt like everything went from too fast to think straight to blindingly slow. The expression of his face changed and it was worse than ever. The flash of the blade and the rotation of the large hand holding it was the only clue she had to go on to save herself. She twitched beneath the restraints. It was hardly effective. She was going nowhere. Her eyes watched the blade with a steeled focus. If she watched it wouldn’t hurt so bad. The blade was overkill. Surely it could clear a path in dense jungle.

Everything went painfully slow from there. Her brain was sparing her perhaps or giving in to what she could do nothing about. Last thought she had was it was going to hurt if he didn’t stop short of where the tip of the blade was heading. The proof shot upward in such a beautiful red as the shock wore off and instant unbelievable pain set in through her thigh and climbed to invade every layer, muscle of her body. It hurt so badly she was unable to make a sound. That was a good thing. Micah was blasting her face with demands for her to start talking. He moved leaving the knife where it was. She looked at the handle standing on her leg. Her body began to start shaking. She was getting cold instantly. Why now? She couldn’t pass out now! She forced that thought through her panicking brain. Not now! The loud drop of a bucket landing on the wood floor near her feet caught her limited attention. The need to piss was the least of her concerns now.

Satine was terrified. If she thought she was the one in control she had just been blindsided and tossed from the fight. Her leg. It was mind blowing how badly it hurt. Cutting it off would likely hurt less. That is when Micah produced another blade. Was he for real? Who carries around not one but two of those things? Before she could entertain her mind with the unlikelihood of what was happening to deter her mind from the realities of the pain overcoming her she was greeted with the sharp edge of the blade at her neck. She felt the business end licking her skin and swore at that very moment she could lose her less than satisfying lunch and piss her pants all at the same time. Okay. Now she was getting the message. They weren’t playing around. If she didn’t have a knife to her throat she would have finally started crying like a stuck ***** saying as much. The man was out of his ******* mind and holding the handle. Desperate as she now was she looked to the other two in the room hoping to find mercy or some sense of reasoning. She knew that was looking for a miracle in a lost cause. They both watched her equally as if this was as common as someone extending their hand and introducing themselves. They had to be as crazy as the one holding a knife to her neck.

Remington made a move. For a split second she was hopeful. It was brief and ultimately not in her favor. She watched him pick up the white rabbit head. Her vision clouded with the pooling of the tears that filled her eyes. He came closer and said she was nothing more than the mask that slid over her head with his aid. The sound of the padlock fixing was loud as it set. Alarmingly loud in fact. Her eyes danced around taking in the interior of the contraption she was now in. The pain increased as Remington reminded her how dismal her situation had quickly become. No ****. She couldn’t miss that point even if Micah had not driven it all the way through her ******* thigh to begin with.

“Living proof is what I have. You can go ******* find it yourself!” Satine was not going to take all the misery and blame for this insane fiasco that had her looking what was likely the last moments of her fucked up life. “Her name is on that birth certificate. We didn’t leave the area. You want proof look up the jail roster. She is in there. She has all the answers. She should be clean by now and able to finally handle the truth. Tell her I am sorry about Chester but tough love is a *****.” Now she couldn’t handle it. her leg was on fire and the muscles twitching at the invasion that the blade provided was not helping at all. She cried out. “AND SO IS THAT ******* KNIFE GOD DAMNIT!”

[Velveteen]

She had wandered off a little, away from the the general activity as she spoke on the phone with Doc. The call lasted all of a couple of minutes and while she was disappointed to hear what had happened to two of the four samples she wasn’t too concerned. In hindsight she really should have thought of it herself, but from the moment Remington had summoned her that night, normal thought had gone out of the window. Velveteen chewed at her lower lip nervously as she nodded through the last few moments of the phone call before the line went dead. She was still trying to locate the flash drive in her mind when she turned to make her way back to the table , stopping dead in her tracks.

Sterling irises widened and it felt like the universe had just caved in on her, not only turning her world on its ear but causing it to implode at the same time. In one single moment it was as if everything had gone into overdrive causing her mind to reel and trip in an effort to process and keep up with that what was happening when suddenly time stopped. In a moment of clarity everything became so vivid. The tear that sparkled on Satine’s cheek like a diamond seemed to be frozen in place, saved for the time being from the impending shadow that was cast by the mask that would swallow that single drop borne of torment for all eternity. On closer inspection, Velveteen noticed that it wasn’t actually frozen but moving so slowly as to appear so. Everything but the dark haired vampire had become caught in this time snap as she moved freely among and around them.

Her attention was drawn to the red ravine etched into her sister’s cheek and her gaze followed the line down to the knife at her throat and then along the arm that held it. Her husband’s face was a mask of anger and rage. Hatred towards the woman in the chair shone so darkly in his usually vibrant eyes that Velveteen couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness. Remington’s face however was in complete contrast. Expressionless. It could have just been another day at the office, so to speak, for all the emotion that registered on his features. The whole thing was just so very, very wrong.

She blinked as she stepped around them, trying to understand what was happening, as if she had been little more than an observer the whole time, though she knew that to be a complete falsehood. Kneeling down beside Satine, Vel swept her hand up and held it just beneath a heavy drop of blood that fallen from her thigh, and now hung heavily in the air just waiting. As soon as the thick drop touched her skin it burst and ran, in normal time, filling the lines of her palm. She brought her hand up to stare at the crimson that stained crooked lines across her palm in wonder. From this vantage point she could see the fear that resided on Satine’s face. Velveteen knew she was telling the truth. She just knew and and now she could smell it in the blood. It was human but it was hers. Her eyes stung with confusion and sadness as she looked up to the woman who looked just like her.

Emotion overwhelmed her as she began to question all that she had ever known growing up. Was her sister the same as her? Did they share that secret? What else could she tell her about where she came from. How life might have been? Growing up Velveteen had always wished for a sister. Someone with whom she could share her fears and secrets with. Someone to play with or just hang out with as she got older. Was she a freak too? Why weren’t both of them adopted or kept? Too many questions and too many many feelings that came crashing in on her in one convoluted moment of torment. Then suddenly she heard her. Satine’s words plain and clear despite the fact that her mouth did not move.

Velveteen’s head tilted questioningly when she realised that she didn’t hear the words physically but mentally. The living proof she referred to, from what Velveteen could gather, must have been their mother. While the vampire was not about to openly admit it until she had the physical evidence….she knew. In that single, solitary moment, for her, there was no doubt.

The tear that was frozen on Satine’s cheek began to move, slowly, as whatever had held it there could do so no longer. Velveteen’s mind raced and her chest heaved with a mixture of anger, confusion, sympathy and the tattered remnants of a life she had never known. Something within her snapped and before time caught up with her once more she did something completely unexpected and teleported both her and Satine away. She needed time.

Time to think and to stop the bleeding. She had only just found her, she couldn’t lose her already.

Time.

It always came down to that. So when life rushed back in on her in a torrent of sounds, smells and colours, before either her husband or Remington could stop he,r she was gone and Satine was gone with her. She left nothing but the blood covered knife that fell heavily into the pool of blood and a whispered apology that would leave one wondering if it existed at all.