Pain raged through her neck, like acid but it kicked her into action; not hesitating to react and twisted from her Sire's grip to face her with a solid shove into her chest, sending her back with a growl, baring her fangs though her instincts raged at her to both fight and withhold, clashing together. It was confusing and it didn't help.
Ophelia regained her footing with a delicate laugh, straightening herself up, washing a tongue over her fangs. "You're lost, Childe, as I said. You don't know what to do. Fight or flee…. but you've submitted." She moved forwards calmly, her hands raised "You're mine, Michael."
Michael growled but again, she found herself a loss as she was pushed backwards until her back hit the shrine wall but the vampire continued to add pressure; pushing herself so close into her space that their bodies pressed together; faces inches apart. Her sire's scent swum around her with her closeness, filtering straight down her throat with each breath, almost overwhelming her with a flurry of emotions.
"I'm not."
"Then stop me…" her voice trailed off into a rattled whisper, her hand moving up, grasping her throat; pushing her head back.
Michael stared, feeling the grinding of the stone as she felt the pressure increase, as if the wall was made of hard cheese and bending to her, her hands immediately coming to claw at her wrists, feeling ebbs of satisfaction to dig them into her flesh….
Ophelia's dark eyes stayed fixed, amused with a pitiful expression as she observed. "If you weren't mine, you could fight my will. That's that this is… your young mind calls out and I am answering. Enforcing your need of a sire." Her other hand rose, cupping her jaw with almost a tender edge, a thumb brushing over her cheek. Tingling under her skin that made her almost feel weak at the knees, more so at the stinging bite. "Myths of vampire telepathy aren't a lie but we're more subtle than what the humans are led to believe. You're not yet…developed for that. Too young. Too…new to this life to know…."
"I. Am. Not. Yours."
"Oh, but you are, My Childe." The vampire chucked, her hand on her changing her from her throat to her shoulder to force her down, to kneel and the touch on her cheek became a forceful grip; her knees wobbled, resisting still to go down. "You're a baby. You need more than what your instincts can provide… more than just blood. You need a teacher."
Her mind touched back, reeling away from this intimate reality to… to Stamets. Georgiou. Michael found her mind sharpening. She needed them, not this vampire. Michael closed her eyes, holding her breath; trying to push away the smothering intrusion to her senses. To reject this pressure.
"No!"
Her mind cleared.
She pushed forwards. Slamming her hands straight into Ophelia's chest again; the act surprise enough to send the elder vampire back into the opposite wall; the rock cracking like dry wall but she didn't hesitate to go for the passage exit.
She had just reached the passage when she felt a weight that ploughed straight into her back; sending her spawling forwards straight into the stone steps. Under her, there was a series of low clutches as the stone caved to the force of her belly but she felt the grip at her shoulders for a fraction of a moment before the sense of gravity changed as she felt herself flung back.
The moment was slow for her though, like fighting Landry, her body adjusted to shift in the air, landing on the balls of her feet and spun around ready, sinking into a defensive crouch with a hiss. Anger washed through her body; fuelling her. She'd not give in.
Sensing challenge, Ophelia took it with a grin. No words were said, darting forwards and Michael met her halfway, slamming into her and threw her hand up into her jaw, intercepting a blow to her chest in the process but it did little to stop the force to send her back yet, like a ballerina, the vampire flipped gracefully onto the edge of the well edge, standing over her but Michael swung a kick into the soft stone she was on, letting it crumble inwards. Ophelia jumped, grasping onto the ceiling; the tone caving to her finger grips before she jumped down. Michael dived away and onto her knees, skidding around, sniffing carefully at the silence that echoed.
For a second there was nothing; her eyes and senses on high alert before she heard the whoosh— turning just in time to see a fist fly at her before she felt a bewildering pain ring through the left side of her face…. Then skin and crystal gave with a low crack before she felt the loss of vision through her left eye. New pain seared through her head like an open burn to dry ice.
A startled cry escaping her lips, the pain overwhelming as a burning sensation where here eye should be… it stretched down from the top of her eyebrow down to her cheekbone, spreading deeper…. Her cry fizzed off quickly as she felt a hand grab her jaw but she didn't hesitate to bite down as it got too close. Fangs sunk into her stone flesh before the limb was wrenched away; Michael grunted as she felt a second punch to the same spot, flaring down another wave of pain.
"Stop fighting. You can't win." Ophelia's whispered moving behind her in a heartbeat but Michael snarled, spinning around with a punch but her sire's hand grasped her fist in the same motion and twisted her around. Her grip tightened and pushed hard, sending her to her knees; her torso twisted forwards as Ophelia's hand pressed against her back as she twisted her arm up at the wrong angle. Pushing on and on…. Strain ranged though her limb first, low thungs of tings ranged as the limb began to crack… until her right arm fractured from her shoulder with the sounds of fabric turning.
Michael screamed out, her body falling forwards; just catching herself with her other as the pain seared deep, barely hearing her unattached arm as it was thrown off to the side. Ophelia's weight moving swiftly to straddle her down onto her back, pushing her entire weight down, her free arm pinned in her other grip. Her sire's other hand moving from her lips shoulder pinned at her throat tight. Angling her head back into the dirt and stone.
"Nice try, Childe… I have over three millennia over you." It was more of a statement than a gloat. The air once again shifting from anticipation to something more overwhelmingly subdued…
Michael blinked up; the lack of other eye was disconcerting as much as her senses to focus directly onto her Sire. Her scent closing in all around her, suffocating almost all over again
Ophelia leant down so their faces were inches appart, smirking again though she seemed to soften up from hostility to a subtle euphoric anticipation. "I hate you. I broke you. You're mine, regardless. Even as a vampire; you're still weak." Her head lowered deeper, inhaling her scent deeply. "I loved breaking you….to feel your bone under my fingers and feeling them snap like breadsticks… hearing your screams was like music." She breathed, her black eyes fluttering shut, blissfully recalling the memories "Whenever I think about my Bondmate…I think of you. Of doing that to you all over again." She let out a pleased sigh. "And now I can."
Michael groaned out, feeling her grip on her throat tighten a fraction. "You… can't."
A tickling laughter echoed around the stone room. "Yes, I can but not yet. No… we've got eternity together. You've got so much to learn in that time, so much to look forwards to." She smirked. "I look forwards to the day you find your Bondmate. For you to feel that link to someone who is yours. Your bond that makes your life have worth. Because I will be there to kill them." As she spoke her voice turned darker and darker. Her lips brushed against her cheek, fangs scraping down her solid flesh, "break them like I broke you. Take away your friends. Leave you…with nothing." She leant down further, breath ticking at her ear, stinging at her bite mark, "I will play my games until you join me willingly." Her voice so quiet, a whisper into her ear. "Maybe then I'll kill you for good…"
The threat hung in the air, setting deep from the intimate closeness; the contact of their flesh and how her sire seemed to act; it resonated the same helplessness she had when she was human; at her mercy. She could feel her will through her touch, it was overwhelming that it made the physical pain numb…
Michael closed her eyes. Her resolve… she could feel it start to cave…
"Burnham!"
The thick air sharpening up fast; caution rising up into the air. Ophelia hissed out with an edge of defence; fingers digging more into her flesh painfully. Both Ash and Stamets were at the edge of the shrine, their faces echoing surprise before Stamets picked up the facts before Ash; his ruby eyes turning black and his body language shifting.
"Hm,"
Her sire rose but Michael stayed down, her head turning to survey the scene; a part of her feeling disconnected to the moment. Stamets stepped in front of Ash. All feelings aside though the nature of this vampire not lost; it hung all around her. Stamets could feel it.
"I knew you'd come for your sire, sooner or later." Ophelia mused softly, her interest solely on Stamets with vast interest, "but you're no fighter, little boy."
Stamets growled but he didn't seem to do anything more, moving back; pushing Ash backwards with him. "Who the hell are you?"
Her eyes ran down his form, disinterested in the question though her hand rose to his face. Paul immediate tilted his head away with a hiss.
"You smell different… why is that?" She didn't wait for him to answer before she darted forwards, shoving him back into the wall, her hand pressed against his cheek while her other pressed against his chest. "Oh, you've got a Bondmate too...Unusually strong connection you two must have…" Unlike before, her aggression seemed to disappear to something so different, calm and curious, commenting as if remarking on a new sense of dress or style.
Ash was all but forgotten though Michael watched as he disappeared off; feeling the swell of relief that he was safe… last thing she wanted was him to get hurt because of her. Because she was too weak to face her Sire. Pain began to slink back in, burning through her face and shoulder. Michael found the strength to reach for her eye, groaning softly as the touch alone flared as the tips brushed the deep-set rugged hole in her face. She could feel the fluid building up, how it seeped down over her skin as it leaked over the edges of the exposed crysaline..
Her head rolled to the side, her eye widening as she saw her arm was dangerously close to the broken well wall. Fortunately, the limb was palm up; unable to flip or risk a slide by moving; she didn't want to be without a limb for eternity…or if there was a chance she could regrow it. But she forced her attention to move. To Paul.
She could see his clear discomfort at the vampire; her no sense of personal space at her closeness to her hands on him. A broil of protective anger washed through her but even then, Michael knew there wasn't a lot she could actually do.
"Leave him." Michael forced herself up onto her knees, ignoring how the fluid spill felt down her cheek or how she felt it soak into her shirt from her shoulder socket; the air ticking both open wounds.
Ophelia's head turned though her hands didn't move from his face nor chest. Her eyes narrowing before she scoffed a little, her demeanour shifting from curiosity to indifference. "He hasn't given me a reason to harm him…" She shrugged casually, "I—" Ophelia stopped suddenly, a blur tacking her down straight to the floor.
Michael blinked, feeling an ebb of surprise as Georgiou jumped back from her sire into a defensive crouch. Her hair was down and she was dressed down to simply a corset and pants; no shoes. And looking like she had been disturbed before her arrival. Philippa face consorted with a mix of excitement and aggression as she growled with the usual bared teeth but Michael's eyes went straight to her Sire… or more specifically, the collar that was now adorned against her pale skin.
Ophelia hissed to, her hands darting to her neck before her eyes narrowed; a shudder running through her frame in feeling its effect before she spun around but then her face changed completely as she saw her. Her head titled, a mask of surprise spreading over her face, even her mouth opened a fraction.
"I thought I left you on Titus V?" Confusion spread over her face, sniffing at Georgiou carefully. Though it took a second longer for realisation to cross her face. "Oohh, interesting… you don't smell like the one I made. You're not my Childe"
Georgiou hissed and dove forwards at her. Ophelia didn't hesitate to follow through, despite being slower, meeting Philippa half way before they became a flurry of motion. Michael could only watch in awe as they twirled, twisted and blocked, the shrine walls taking a beating as one or both slammed against it, echos of it bounding around the space.
But as they fought, Michael was able to observe. Despite Ophelia's hindered speed, they was well matched with each other, even with Georgiou's skill set. They were blocked and reflected just as easily as Georgiou blocked her and shoved her back. Neither human, they wouldn't tie; wouldn't stop.
A stale mate.
Michael hissed as she felt a grip on her side, snarling softly as she whipped around to see it was Ash. Her jaw clenched but she tore her eye away from him, a welt of guilt and shame running through stomach.
Looking at him… at Stamets, she couldn't help it. She felt weak… she hadn't felt like this before. No, this was a new sense of weakness. Thirst was manageable and predictable… she had always led since she woke, for Stamets…Georgiou and hell, even felt on good terms with Cornwell. Now those foundations were shaking. Everything she had learned was quaking. It was surreal… and hated how it made her view herself.
Now she couldn't even help herself when her clan needed her. Couldn't help Stamets… her own clan dynamic shifting on unstable sand. Because of her inabilities.
"It's okay." His arms slipped around her, to tug her along but she couldn't help but push him away. Letting out a sharp grunt softly as he hit the wall. "Mich..." Ash's face pulled up into a grimace, his eyes fixing onto her, his lips pursing but his eyes were surprised. Michael kept her gaze away, unable to look at him. She picked up her limb though jumped back to avoid the fight
She froze as she saw Ophelia up on Georgiou's back. Until the Terran bit straight into her thigh and flipped her off onto her back and jumped onto her stomach. The vampire snarled down at her.
Ophelia grinned up at her, eyes lit with both hostility and excitement; the Terran's wrists in her grip, pulling her down towards her. "You're so much more fun."
Georgiou growl rumbled, pulling her wrists back up and slammed her head down. A thundering crack echoed as Ophelia's head smashed into the stone.
"Oh…" Ophelia's eyes fluttered shut, a visible crack lining her forehead before it began to flutter shut. Her lips curled up. "I do love a good challenge." Her eyes fluttered open, winking before she arched her back and rolled, pinning Georgiou under her; forcing the emperor's arms back down; using her body to press her down further.
"Hey, princess!"
Ash's voice rang loudly, the attention barely drawn until the air was suddenly exploded with a white powder. Michael gagged, shutting off her breathing as the stench of garlic suddenly filled the air. So strong it made her gag again.
Georgiou twisted her hands free and kicked the vampire off as soon as the elder gagged. The vampire regained her footing but snarled angrily as she turned her attention to the human.
"Garlic bomb? Really?"
Ash smirked though he wisely backed away, "Whatever works."
Michael straightened herself up, Stamets pushed himself from the corner and Georgiou picked herself up, but now the air was different. The tensions was there, it wasn't gone but now, with her Sire's limited, things felt a little better; that this fight could be over.
Ophelia looked around though she seemed to have sensed the endgame of the situation before she backed away. "We'll continue this, my Childe. I promise you that." With a withering look, she shot wards the door.
Stamets's hand shot out, moving swiftly to the exit; stopping Georgiou from following. "We have to finish the mission…. Worry about her another day." He wheezed, gagging as the tainted air shot down his throat.
"We can't let her escape!" Philippa hissed, her eyes blazing.
"No." Michael shook her head, finding her voice again "We have to finish the mission. I never meant for…this to happen. We can't abandon this mission for personal endeavours, Philippa." As much as she wanted to; but right now, she was in pain and she wanted it to go away.
Georgiou's eyes glared but Michael held it, keeping her back straight though after a moment, she nodded with a sour expression.
"I'll sort the bomb." She grumbled, darting to the case wedged out of the way.
Stamets moved around, bending down to the floor sorting through the dirt until he picked up broken shards from her head, Michael airly watched as he handed them over, sparing a glance to Tyler.
Ash pulled out his communicator. "Tyler to Discovery, we're installing the bomb now. Dust up on the ground is…resolved. Transport Burnham to sickbay."
"Copy that, lieutenant."
Michael closed her eye but didn't argue. Not now. Then the familiar feeling of the beam filled at her senses…
Ash watched as Michael's form dissolved away in gold, his heart beating rapidly in his chest at the sight; her demeanour shifted, gone and…defeated. He couldn't help but feel fear at what that vampire had done to her. They knew each other, the vampire's phrases wasn't hard to miss but he never thought Michael would…cave.
He could see why though. This vampire was different. The air about her was heavy and intimidating and how she tactile she was. It made his skin crawl to see her on Michael, how she touched Lieutenant Stamets's face as if they were more than strangers. He clearly missed something there but even Stamets seemed to have caved to her without a fight...or word. Why was this vampire so different?
"What the hell…happened?" he breathed out, running a hand though his hair.
"I don't know but I hate her." Georgiou replied, her PADD in hand, her clothes torn and near shredded as it hung off her frame, exposing a lot more skin than before and dirt was encrusted over both covered and non-covered flesh. From the base, she retrieved the bomb, dropping it down into the cavern; activating the flight pack under and sent it on its way.
Ash eyed her carefully though he felt a bubble of…uncertainty. What the vampire said struck him deep; his memories of a Klingon stirred…
"She thought you were our Captain Georgiou." Lieutenant Stamets noted, his arms coming to cross his chest. "She's dead."
Ash looked away. "That…" He started, "That might not be true."
"Excuse me?"
"Captain Georgiou. Our captain Georgiou." Ash's eyes flickering to the emperor as he spoke, her eyes were to the screen but were narrowed.
"She got stabbed through the chest with a Klingon blade, Tyler. She can't have survived from that."
"Freshly dead can be…revived by medical science. Vog and…L'Rel personally remove her corpse and put it into a cryo-chamber. Originally for spare food but… L'Rell saw an opportunity to experiment after teaming up with Kol. The corpse was sent off but went missing…we assumed she was lost."
"So you think this vampire recovered her?" Georgiou scoffed, shaking her head. "It's been over a year since all that happened. Seems unlikely."
Ash shrugged but didn't refute it. He had no argument for or against but he knew what he got from Vog was true.
"For now, I believe it's best that we don't tell Burnham about this. We can't." Stamets huffed, wafting the air in front of his face. "She's got a lot to deal with now thanks to Creepy-touchy-feely back in the picture"
"Agreed." Georgiou nodded.
His jaw clenched tightly, the idea of keeping that from her felt wrong. But…after seeing today, he knew he had to. For a little while. Old wounds were opening up. She didn't need that stress. God knew what his friend would do with that knowledge. Ash inhaled, barely keeping himself from spluttering as a wave of garlic shot into his lungs, making his eyes water.
"Ook—Okay".