Whispers From the Moon (Complete - Editing)

Chapter 19

Nyra

The first thing that registered when I woke was the emptiness that filled my head. I was so used to that constant, warm presence that the lack of it left me feeling cold and vulnerable. The next was the burning from the silver shackles on my hands and feet attached to thick chains embedded in the wall. The cell was small and dark with no windows and only a thick iron door breaking up the monotonous grey of the walls around me. I shivered in the chill, damp air, my vest top doing nothing to protect me from the cold. In a feeble attempt to conserve whatever body heat I had left, I curled up in the corner of the room with my knees pressed up against my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I rested my head against them, shuddering momentarily as my body reached dangerously low temperatures.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, two wolves were grabbing each of my arms and dragging my semi-conscious body out of the cell. I struggled feebly, my limbs leaden and my thoughts sluggish, but they just gripped me tighter. I eventually gave up, staring at the rough concrete floor below me as they basically carried me. At one point the floor changed to white tiles and the lighting became a lot brighter. There was a sharp, sterile scent, meaning I was probably in some or other medical centre. But why would he make sure I was ok if I was a threat? Then it hit me, this wasn't a medical centre, it was a research facility. I renewed my fervent struggle, writhing and twisting in their grip in an attempt to escape their grasp. They ignored me and kept on walking.

They pulled me through a doorway and across another expanse of white tiles before coming to a halt. I looked up and my eyes fell on the operating table equipped with silver cuffs for my wrists, ankles and head. I began struggling in earnest; using their weight on either side of me, I launched myself up and backwards, essentially doing a backflip whilst they held my arms, twisting theirs into an unnatural position and forcing them to release me. I landed on my feet, wanting to make a break for it, but the world reeled around me as my weakened body struggled from the sudden movement. I stumbled, and was tackled to the ground by the two wolves, my head slamming into the tiled floor. A sharp pain radiated through my head and stars swam in my vision as I gave up the pointless struggle.

Watching me intently for any signs of another escape attempt, they picked me up and lifted me onto the operating table and clamped me into the cuffs. I was barely conscious from a mixture of exhaustion and the blow to my head so I barely noticed the searing burn from the silver. As I lay there, I began to drift off, but the sharp sting of a needle woke me. I cried out, thrashing against my constraints, powerless and at their mercy.
"Calm down or you're going to hurt yourself." The one man warned as he removed the syringe from my arm.
"What... Is... That?" I panted, sweat forming on my brow.
"An... experiment of mine." I froze at the unmistakable Texan drawl.

He ambled into my line of sight, arms folded nonchalantly over his chest as he observed me lying helplessly on the table. I attempted to growl at him, but it was a pitiful sound.
"Not so powerful now, are we Nyra?" He sneered, reaching over and twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. He obviously hadn't drugged me recently because the usual pleasant tingles were nonexistent. I snarled, managing to sound more threatening this time. He just smirked and tugged painfully hard, making me fight to hold back a yelp as the searing pain ripped through my skull.
"Get... Your filthy hands.... Off of me..." I hissed through gritted teeth.
"But don't you want the pain to go away?" He sneered, trailing a finger down along my jaw. My skin prickled in disgust.
"What P-"

It was like nothing I had ever experienced before in my life. The only thing I can even begin to compare it to is my first shift; only fifty times worse. My entire body was on fire, a blistering heat that seemed to eat away at my skin. I bit back a scream of agony as I writhed in pain, tears leaking out of my tightly clenched eyes. Blake just watched me, his features blank and emotionless. My hands were curled so tightly, my nails were biting into the skin. I felt warm blood trickle down my palms from the multiple punctures. At the same time, my jaws were clenched so tightly from holding back my screams that it was a surprise my teeth didn't crack.

As if it couldn't get any worse, a new sensation of pain tore through my body. Slowly; excruciatingly, I could feel my form changing. My bones snapped and realigned and then snapped and realigned again as my skin seemed to bubble and melt. It was too much for me and an inhuman scream tore at my throat and echoed through the building. The tears flowed freely and the blood from my hands was pooling on the table. I screamed and sobbed and writhed on the table in pure agony as Blake watched on with cold, unblinking eyes.

I don't know how long I lay there, but my throat was beyond raw and the agony was basically normal now. I'd given up fighting a long time ago and just lay there, crying silently as blood pooled around me and every bone in my body seemed to ache. Every now and then, one would crack and realign, sending sharp jolts of pain through my tormented body. It was an utter relief when I blacked out. 

***

When my eyes opened again, I was back in the dark, dangerously cold cell. I tried to get up, but my legs instantly buckled beneath me and I collapsed heavily to the floor. Probably hearing the loud clank of chains, a guard opened the door and came in. He didn't even glance at my sorry form as he moved to unchain me, fastening a silver collar round my neck as he dragged me out the door. I tried to fight, but it was hopeless, I could barely stand, let alone fight; so I let him half carry, half drag me. It was only when I spotted the white corridor that I struggled fervently against him, trying desperately to get away. To no avail. Like a sack of potatoes, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me the rest of the way. Through the door and towards the now-clean operating table. On went the cuffs and in went the needle.

And the process started all over again.