The Impossible- D.S X Reader and K.M. X E.M. X D.S. X Reader

Damon x reader pt. 3

I woke up in a padded white room. The only piece of furniture was a metal gurney in the middle of the room complete with straps and whatnot.

I was completely alone and also naked. I curled my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees, not wanting to be displayed so obviously.

I swept my H/L H/C hair down my front so that it also gave me a bit of cover from any prying eyes.

The mirrors that reflected my S/C face back to me were probably two-way, meaning that someone could be looking through at me. I couldn't make out a door in the room at all. It was just mirrors all around, even at my back.

I wondered where Damon was, how long I had been out, and what was going to happen to me now. What experiments were going to be done on me?

Damon and Enzo had gone through experiments before. Telling stories of how doctors rooted around in their chest cavities, removing the liver or kidneys or other organs, seeing what could grow back- which was everything- and how long it took. Even eyes. There would be no relief from the pain, a constant torture, vervain often laced in the fingertips to cause burning.

I shivered violently, feeling a pounding something behind my eyes. The lights, they were too bright. The white of this room, it was to much. And I knew it was because of what I was. I was a vampire.

Well, I was in the transition of becoming one. I needed blood, preferably human blood, to complete the transaction.

At that moment, Mr. Laritate entered the room, flanked this time by four guards, one of them dragging Damon's body with him.

In Mr. Laritate's hand was a glass of blood. I could smell it from here, a rich, warm, amazing aroma and I felt the veins underneath my eyes started to crackle and pop.

Mr. Laritate smiled, "Do you want this?"

I didn't move a muscle and I didn't answer. There would be some sort of game played. If I wanted the blood, something would happen to Damon. I knew that's what this would be, that's what it always was. In the past, in books, in movies, in everything.

"I know you do. So come over here like a good girl and drink it and then lay down on the table."

My eyes flicked over to Damon. The guard had hauled him up against the padded wall, chaining his wrists to the wall. They hung loosely as he was completely unconscious. His black hair was slick, sticking to his neck and forehead. His normally rosy complexion was pale.

"I'm not going to do anything to him. The process has already been done. It's your turn now. We simply need you to drink this and lay down on the table." Mr. Laritate said, frustration lacing his voice, "But we can hurt him if you don't."

But drinking the blood would relieve me of a torture. . . didn't they want to torture me? Yes, but they couldn't unless I became a Vampire.

I got to my feet, padding over, arms across my chest in discomfort. I reached out, taking the glass from Mr. Laritate.

I drank the whole thing before the glass was snatched from my hands. I supposed they didn't want to give me a chance to break the glass and hurt them.

Throwing another glance at Damon's unconscious, but stirring form, I climbed onto the table, laying on my back, flinching at the cold metal. I closed my eyes, unable to stare at the bright lights.

Everything was to much. I could hear sounds throughout the entire yacht, from business men- I suppose the higher ups- discussing Vampire pregnancies- to the cooks in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the science experiment happening down below. I could smell the food in the kitchen, along with both the appealing scent of Damon and the less appealing scent of the others- though their blood smelt good.