Derek moaned, his body still under, deep in rest of the drug induced sleep.
He stirred, trying to open his eyes, trying at least to speak or move but
his body couldn't or wouldn't comply. He could think and he could hear the
noises of the hospital, but that was it, the ability to speak or move had
left him. He starting panicking, wondering what happened. Did he had a
stroke and now he would stay like this, locked inside his own body? No that
can't be it, can it? He tried to think of the last thing he remembered, the
very last thing that came in his mind. They were talking, Nick on the
couch, Rachel on his right. Alex came running in, something about having
it. And then pain, his chest feeling like exploding. And at that moment he
remembered, he had a heart attack. It didn't explain the numbness though.
Maybe they gave him some kind of medications that caused this. And then he
realised something, and it made him panic even more, he didn't know what
time it was! What if it was already morning? What if he missed more then
one day? Then he didn't had the chance to say good bye too Nick, he didn't
had the chance to say all things he had wanted to say to the young man.
His heart monitor started beeping franticly, indicating his heart rhythm
was to fast.
A nurse came running in, warning a doctor when she saw the read outs on the
monitor. They quickly gave him a calming sedative, and Derek slipped again
in the warm and welcome darkness of oblivion.
The doctor shook his head, watching Derek doze off, his body relaxing. The fool was fighting it, like he could fight the drug that was given to him. He needed to stay under, he needed to stay away from the ritual as long as it took. He glanced to his hypodermal, a drug he knew all to way, a muscle relaxant. That way Derek couldn't warn the others, or could interfere in the ritual. The other doctors thought the heart attack had caused this state of the older precept. But he knew better. An evil and cold smile played along the lips of the man.
Alex searched the whole house, fear gripping her heart when she still saw nothing that might even slightly resemble her colleagues. What happened? Where were they? She had found the room empty, the window open. The sheet in a heap on the ground, but nothing indicating there had been a fight of some sort. She knew they had to been taken by surprise, by the followers. But that didn't ease her mind. She had failed, she had found the answer to save Nick, and she had spent hours searching. And now she had nothing, she needed Nick to do what was needed to be done. Her brown eyes looked around, filled with despair and tears. What could she do? She needed help, she couldn't do this alone. But Derek was in the hospital, in some kind of coma by the heart attack, Rachel and Nick had been taken. Who was left? Philip, no he was in Ireland, visiting his family. She sighed, walking to the control room, with in her head only one man who could help her now. She dialled the number, looking at the big screen, awaiting the video conference to be answered. Sloan looked at her in surprise, if that was possible, the precept was not so easily surprised or never showed it. But he raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening slightly.
"Miss Moreau, what can I do for you?"
His eyes narrowed this time, seeing the expression on Alex's face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her head covered in a light sheen of sweat, her dark skin looking pale this time.
"What's wrong, did something happen?"
And so Alex was forced to tell the whole story to the head of the London house, something she hated to do, since Derek didn't do it either. She had learned to take a disliking to him, the way he made remarks to the man she loved. There was no time to think like that now though, her friends were in danger, they needed her and they needed Sloan.
The leader smiled, looking at the still figure laying in his cage, the body cuddled up into a foetal position, deep in sleep. Tonight he would die, the chosen, tonight Satan would be back and reward his most loyal follower. At first he had been disappointed and even shocked when he had found out who the chosen was, he had been denying it when Beltazar came telling him Nick Boyle was the one they were searching for. He had hoped it was somebody else, he had hoped the young man could be spared, but fate had other things in mind, fate played dirty tricks with the hooded figure. So he had set aside his feeling for the young man, shaping to another form to take away the feeling his true form had. The female figure he had taken on was good, she was evil, she had no remorse or care in her emotions. But she was also weak, and he needed his true form to complete or even start the ceremony. Nick stirred, the cold floor waking him slowly. His hazel eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness in the cave immediately, as the seals had taught him. He also became aware of the figure standing in front of the cage, looking at him with interest. The figure was hiding in a large dark cape, its hood not revealing who the person was. The young man raised himself a little, leaning to the back of the cage in a sitting position. He eyed the figure, thinking he saw something familiar about the person, somebody he might have seen before. It wasn't until the figure spoke, until he recognised the soft and warm voice. The figure said something that more confirmed his suspicion then taking it away from him.
"I'm sorry Nick."
Nick gasped, his casted hand reaching to his mouth in utter shock. His eyes growing wide at the realization who it was standing there in front of him.
The doctor shook his head, watching Derek doze off, his body relaxing. The fool was fighting it, like he could fight the drug that was given to him. He needed to stay under, he needed to stay away from the ritual as long as it took. He glanced to his hypodermal, a drug he knew all to way, a muscle relaxant. That way Derek couldn't warn the others, or could interfere in the ritual. The other doctors thought the heart attack had caused this state of the older precept. But he knew better. An evil and cold smile played along the lips of the man.
Alex searched the whole house, fear gripping her heart when she still saw nothing that might even slightly resemble her colleagues. What happened? Where were they? She had found the room empty, the window open. The sheet in a heap on the ground, but nothing indicating there had been a fight of some sort. She knew they had to been taken by surprise, by the followers. But that didn't ease her mind. She had failed, she had found the answer to save Nick, and she had spent hours searching. And now she had nothing, she needed Nick to do what was needed to be done. Her brown eyes looked around, filled with despair and tears. What could she do? She needed help, she couldn't do this alone. But Derek was in the hospital, in some kind of coma by the heart attack, Rachel and Nick had been taken. Who was left? Philip, no he was in Ireland, visiting his family. She sighed, walking to the control room, with in her head only one man who could help her now. She dialled the number, looking at the big screen, awaiting the video conference to be answered. Sloan looked at her in surprise, if that was possible, the precept was not so easily surprised or never showed it. But he raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening slightly.
"Miss Moreau, what can I do for you?"
His eyes narrowed this time, seeing the expression on Alex's face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her head covered in a light sheen of sweat, her dark skin looking pale this time.
"What's wrong, did something happen?"
And so Alex was forced to tell the whole story to the head of the London house, something she hated to do, since Derek didn't do it either. She had learned to take a disliking to him, the way he made remarks to the man she loved. There was no time to think like that now though, her friends were in danger, they needed her and they needed Sloan.
The leader smiled, looking at the still figure laying in his cage, the body cuddled up into a foetal position, deep in sleep. Tonight he would die, the chosen, tonight Satan would be back and reward his most loyal follower. At first he had been disappointed and even shocked when he had found out who the chosen was, he had been denying it when Beltazar came telling him Nick Boyle was the one they were searching for. He had hoped it was somebody else, he had hoped the young man could be spared, but fate had other things in mind, fate played dirty tricks with the hooded figure. So he had set aside his feeling for the young man, shaping to another form to take away the feeling his true form had. The female figure he had taken on was good, she was evil, she had no remorse or care in her emotions. But she was also weak, and he needed his true form to complete or even start the ceremony. Nick stirred, the cold floor waking him slowly. His hazel eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness in the cave immediately, as the seals had taught him. He also became aware of the figure standing in front of the cage, looking at him with interest. The figure was hiding in a large dark cape, its hood not revealing who the person was. The young man raised himself a little, leaning to the back of the cage in a sitting position. He eyed the figure, thinking he saw something familiar about the person, somebody he might have seen before. It wasn't until the figure spoke, until he recognised the soft and warm voice. The figure said something that more confirmed his suspicion then taking it away from him.
"I'm sorry Nick."
Nick gasped, his casted hand reaching to his mouth in utter shock. His eyes growing wide at the realization who it was standing there in front of him.