::Chapter 9 ~ Intent::
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Cammy felt her body resting on something cold and solid. She couldn't open her eyes, a feeling of blindness and confusion erupted within her thoughts. Her whole body ached. She kept her eyes closed tightly, avoiding the large light above her and stood completely still when she heard someone enter the room.
"What is on her record?" A low voiced man said.
"Cammy White..." A higher pitched female voice began.
"Age: 15. Height: 5'4"/ 164 cm. Weight: 101 lbs / 46 kilos. Nationali--"
The woman hesitated, apparently distracted by something.
"She's awake, Sir. Should we contact Lord Bison?" She continued questionably.
"Yes. Alert him immediately. He has been waiting two months for her recovery. He will be very pleased." The low voiced man said.
"Right away, Sir."
Cammy heard footsteps of one of the woman leaving.
She finally opened her eyes and faced the white room. She saw the man-- He wore a lab coat and seemed to be in his early thirties. He stood composed, looking at some documents, and staring at her from the corner of his eye. She couldn't move any part of her body aside from her head, considering they were strapped to the metal table beneath her. Her muscles ached and her skin felt like she was tortured and mutilated. She felt light headed and confused.
'Two months to recover from what? What have I been doing for that long? I haven't been here that long...Have I?! No...Where am I? WHO am I?!'
She screamed aloud, frantically pulling at the straps on her arms and legs. The man in the lab coat picked up a phone and muttered something. He then rushed to her side and placed a needle into her wrist. He backed away quickly against the wall.
She screeched one last time, before feeling weak and having no command over her body. Her struggling frame conclusively collapsed onto the metal table. Feeling paralyzed, she soon fell into a light sleep.
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"Vega? You wished to speak to me. What is it?" Bison inquired, sitting comfortably on his chair, with an impatient look upon his face. Vega entered the room with not a hint of grace; which was extremely unusual for him. He seemed frantic and beleaguered.
"You know what I want..." He hissed, stepping closer to Bison.
"I cannot give you the girl." He said quietly, standing from his seat. "You knew that this would happen in due time..."
"Where is she?!" Vega demanded his tone was unmistakably full of anger and obsession. His crystalline eyes were unusually wide with hint of madness.
Bison grew irate with his tone. He only dealt with Vega for his fighting skills and though his kills weren't exactly clean, he didn't leave a trace. He couldn't sacrifice one of his best assassins, but Vega did tempt Bison to dispose of him at times like these.
"You have always had a rare fascination with her, Vega. Haven't you? Ever since the day you carried her away... She was crying very loud when I killed them, wasn't she? But not half as loud as she is now!" Bison taunted. "Do you wish to comfort her again, Vega? Well that is just too bad..."
'She is alive then...'
"Where is she?" He repeated more subdued.
"How dare you question me, again!"
Vega felt a surge of anger build up inside of him.
"You wanted me to keep track of her! She has been missing for the past two months. I think I deserve to know where she is! Tell me, damn it!"
"She will be released soon enough!" Bison was obviously getting extremely annoyed. "Leave, now!"
"That isn't... a straight answer..." Vega slowly hissed threw gritted teeth.
"You have wasted enough of my time, Vega! I will not answer any of your questions! I've humored you for long enough today, now leave!" Bison sneered angrily.
He sat back at his chair, while Vega stormed out of the room with fury.
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Vega's eyes glowed with anger, as he walked down the twisted halls of Shadowloo.
'That ugly bastard! Where is he hiding her? What did he do to her?!
What the hell do I care?
She's just a mere doll! I am a noble blooded matador...
Why do I care? What is wrong with me?!
She is so weak... Such a fool for letting this happen...
Am I taking pity on the weak?!
No…
Cammy isn't weak. Her blood doesn't taste of weakness...
Only perfection;
Her blood...
I need more of it....
Hmm…
I wonder how the rest of her tastes...
I need more of her
Why am I thinking of that now?!
I need to stop this.
~*~*~*~*~
He raced to hiscar, and immediately started the engine, driving off as quickly as he could.
He thought of nothing but the road, as he approached the crowded Thai streets. He parked at a curb, and stepped out.
The shiny lights and signs lit the urban, yet elegant street well, except in certain areas blinded by walls of buildings. He approached a large hotel; One that might have been above most people's standards. However, it was below Vega's and he simply 'tolerated' it.
Vega didn't have a 'home' in Thailand. He spent most of his nights at high-class hotels, awaiting his missions or stalking his prey.
He entered his room and laid onto the wispy sheets of his large bed. His room was ornamented with crème colored walls and black curtains.
He covered his face with his hands, as he began to think about her again. He dreaded it.
'I cannot care for someone like her... I cannot care for anyone…'
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::Authors Notes:::
Not much too add, sorry this was a tad short.