Subdue-X

The Freakshow

I could barely feel the weight of the revolver in my hand, but the cold steel dug into my clammy skin like it was trying to remind me it was there. I didn’t even know how I got hold of it—everything was a blur. One moment I was in the car, and the next, I was out on the cement, the door still swinging behind me.

Pin was already outside, his hands up, like he was trying to calm a wild animal. His eyes were wide, a mix of fear and urgency. The driver—dark-skinned and built like a linebacker—scrambled out of the car, cautiously making his way toward me.

“You’ve held enough of those, hey?” he said softly, like he was trying to pull me out of the fog in my head. Pin shot him a look, clearly hoping his idea would work. My whole body shook, and I could feel my head twitching involuntarily to the side, like my brain couldn’t keep up with the chaos.

The driver moved into my line of fire, his presence solid and unnerving. “Ana, put the gun down,” he urged, his voice steady, though I could see the tension in his broad shoulders, the slight quiver in his hands.

“I don’t want to hold them,” I mumbled, my words tumbling out of me. I could feel my fingers tightening around the gun, even though I wanted to let go. “But I always find myself holding them—”

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “This is one of the times you don’t have to hold one.”

My heart pounded in my chest, every beat vibrating through me like an earthquake. “I’m not going down there,” I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended. My grip tightened even more.

Pin shook his head, his voice gentle but firm, like he was talking to a frightened child. “I’m not bringing you down there, Ana. But I need to stabilize you first. Then we can figure everything else out. I promise.”

I could feel my breath hitching in my throat, my chest heaving as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The driver’s eyes never left mine, his voice softer than before. “You’re not alone in this, Ana. Let us help you.”

I wanted to believe him, but the gun felt like it was a part of me, like it had fused with my hand. I didn’t know how to let go.

But the world was spinning, my grip on reality slipping away faster than I could hold onto it. The driver lunged forward just as I jerked the gun up, his large hand wrapping around my arm in a firm, unyielding grip. His strength overwhelmed mine, but I fought against him with every ounce of fear-driven energy I had left. Our bodies collided in a frantic, desperate struggle, each of my movements erratic and chaotic as if I was fighting not just him, but the terrifying, disjointed reality closing in around me.

The driver’s voice broke through the turmoil, soft but insistent, “You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?” His tone was gentle, a careful attempt to reach me through the haze of panic. His presence anchoring my fractured focus.

I trembled, my voice barely a whisper as she struggled to maintain her grip on the revolver. “why do I always end up here—”

“-because you need to stop fighting us," he responds sternly.

Finally, Pin managed to get close enough to press a small adhesive strip—some sort of medical sticker—underneath my chin. A cool sensation spread from the point of contact, but the paralysis didn’t set in immediately. I could quit jerking, my mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. I noticed the white cat again, brushing against Pin's white coat. Dandelion fluff falling off his fur.

“Hold her still,” Pin barked, his voice strained as he fumbled in his coat for another sticker.

The driver grunted, wrapping his strong arms around me, his grip unyielding as he pinned me to the ground. “Ana, you’ve got to stop fighting. It’s going to be okay,” he said, his tone firm yet soothing.

Pin managed to get the second and third stickers under my chin, but I could feel the sedative taking its time. My muscles locked up slowly, and my movements grew more sluggish with each passing second. The driver’s grip remained steady, but I could sense his growing concern as my resistance waned. With a gentleness that contrasted with his imposing size, he picked me up, cradling me carefully.

“Let’s get her upstairs,” Pin said, his voice tight with urgency. “The penthouse is the closest option.”

The driver carried me inside, his broad chest warm against me as he navigated the hallways with hurried steps. I could barely move, my body numb, but my mind was still racing. He laid me down on the bed, his hands surprisingly gentle for someone so strong.

“You’re high as a kite, you know that?” he said with a chuckle, a dark humor coloring his tone. “Reminds me of my little sister when she got into Mom’s liquor cabinet.”

Ana managed a weak smile, the edges of her vision blurring. “sounds like… Anne and Green Gables…Christian can’t sleep and I never really slept…”

The driver, who I only knew as the driver, raised an eyebrow. “Christian, huh? You shouldn't be worrying about him, he’s got a way of turning things upside down, doesn’t he?” He paused, the humor fading from his voice. “I’m sure Pin has ways of collecting you sleep.”

Pin strided into the room, an IV bag in one hand, a small pulse clip in the other. “Bryce get a cold compress from the freezer,” he ordered quietly, “Put it on her forehead and cover her eyes.”

Bryce—finally a name to the man—hurried to comply, Pin began preparing my wrist, swabbing the inside with local anesthesia. “I need to get to a deeper vein,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. 

The driver returned with the compress, placing it gently over my forehead and putting a hand kny head to keep me from looking up. Shielding my eyes from the harsh flashlight he pointed at my arm so Pin could see, “What exactly does this thing do?” Bryce asked, his voice low.

“It monitors her vitals in real-time and sends the data back to us,” Pin explained quietly, I’m tired of the other one fucking up,” almost as if he didn’t want me to hear. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll know immediately.”

I could barely keep my eyes open now, the sedative from the stickers mixing with whatever else was coursing through my veins. Pin knelt beside me, his voice a soothing drone in the background.

“Alright, Ana,” he said softly, “inhale… exhale…” He jabbed my thigh with a syringe, the sedative acting fast. The world around me dissolved into darkness as I began to drift into unconsciousness.

The last word being Christian’s name lingering on my tongue and Pin exhaling through his nose in disappointment. 

“Get a hold of the guys who have Chris, I need to find out what exactly what they used.”