Trigger Warning: Mentions of drug use, slight torture/experimentation, sexual harassment

The room was spinning. She felt as if the world had been tilted on its axis. Her eyes could not focus. The world was only a mass of rolling grays and bright lights that made something behind her eyes ache. Her heart was in her throat, constricting her breathing and making it that much harder to stop the world from spinning.

Caroline closed her eyes but still the sense of vertigo wouldn't leave her. She squeezed her eyes closed, tensing her body, and curling into herself with a moan. She was stuck in this spinning, spiraling hell with no one to help her. She did not know how long she stayed there, curled up and spinning in darkness, but then a cool hand smoothed her hair.

The horrible vertigo distracted her from the heat of her skin. Blearly opening her eyes she sought out the hand again. Needing the hand to cool her. The hand returned again, going from her forehead to card through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly. Caroline gave a whimper of thanks.

Still disorientated Caroline just laid them, enjoying the soothing that the hand was doing. The hand's owner chuckled.

"Like a satisfied cat."

Caroline turned her head towards him, the voice was male. Her eyes still swam but she tried to focus. She could see the golden-brown of his hair and Caroline reached out to touch, but he stopped her.

"Uh-uh," the voice laughed. "And to think that this is the same person that killed my brother and my men."

Caroline stopped. She squinted narrowing her focus on the eyes. She needed to see his eyes. "Stefan?" Her tongue was slow and heavy and her mouth felt dry. Stefan gave another laugh before he moved away with this cooling presence.

"Welcome to the Facility."

"Wha—"

"Top notch equipment. Top notch scientist. All just to handle special patients like you."

"Me?"

Stefan was talking too fast. She couldn't keep up, her mind felt heavy. Her body felt heavy. She needed to sleep. She wanted to go back to the spiraling dark. She won't have to strain her mind to keep up with Stefan then. She laid back down. If Stefan wanted to keep talking she would lie here and let his monologue lull her to sleep.

"Yes. Witches. You see the elite are always looking for new entertainment and beauty regimens. And new ways to avoid death. And what better way to do that than with magic? Witches with your exceptional long life spans and beauty make the perfect test subjects.

"Besides that your magic can also help develop stunning technology. Governments pay a lot of money when we find new ways to kill each other. Magic is a new avenue that we intend to pioneer and that will give us a lot of money."

"Us?"

Stefan shushed her. He brought his hand back to her face and she leaned into the touch with a sigh. He was so cool against her skin. Stefan;s breath fanned her face and her mind sluggishly thought that she should not be enjoying his touch at all.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just sleep. You're going to have a bust day tomorrow."

He was right. She was tired. She needed to sleep. Caroline listened to Stefan and she curled back into herself, into her safe little bubble. She went away from the lights, away from Stefan and his confusing talk, and settled into sleep. She was going to have a busy day tomorrow.

Her body arched off the bed like a bow. All her muscles were taut, her body holding the uncomfortable position for interminable seconds before she just collapsed. The flesh of her ankles and wrist were raw from the restraints pulling against her skin and she let the pain wash over her.

Caroline sobbed helplessly as the men in white coats scribbled words down onto their clipboards. They shot quick words at each others as they exchanged notes. Caroline didn't care what they were saying though. She was hurt. Her body ached and her heart was pounding in her throat.

Tears blurred her vision and all that she could see was white. She hated the color white. Everything here was white, from the floors, to the ceiling, to the clothes that everyone wore. She hated the color. It was so unstimulating.

"Another trial."

The world was becoming smaller. Caroline's breath came out more rapidly through her parted lips. She couldn't see what they were fiddling with behind the panel. And she needed to use the restroom. No, no, no. They won't let her have a bathroom break. No doing so would screw the data. But would there be any harm in asking maybe one of them was humane, if she could get even one of them to look at her with even the slightest bit of pity and concern then maybe she could—

"Increase to 35 kilojoules"

Her body arched off the bed like a bow.

[Line Break]

The nights are when she sought her pleasure and received her shame.

At night that was when the guards would come with their doses. The guards entered the rooms in squads of three; two to hold the prisoner down and one to inject them. At first Caroline had fought them. She had fought them hard. Back then she had thought that the prick of the syringe would bring fire into her veins the same way that it did when the scientist "cleaned her blood". But no, these nightly doses were...different.

The first night that the needle pricked her skin and the guard pushed down on the plunger she was swept with warmth.

Warmth filled her veins and she felt light as a feather. Only good thought came in and Caroline could swear that she could smell the gardens on her childhood. Every muscle in her body relaxed, loosening one by one. Her mind slowed. Caroline slept easy through the night.

She was ashamed to say that the next night, while she fought she craved the needle.

It had been a while now since they had her hooked on the nightly dose. She didn't even bother fighting them now. She needed it to gain even the smallest sense of pleasure. She needed this. She needed it. When they entered her room she began sobbing. Heavy breathes choked her, throttling her. She didn't want to be this way. She hated that they made her become this way. This was not who she was.

Two men held her down and the last one brought the needle to her arm. Her arm was littered with tracks from the many nightly injections and daily test. She didn't like looking at her arms.

The needle went in. He pushed down. Caroline's head flew off.

"Patient 90A, tell me about yourself."

She stared.

"I know that all the tests and trials are hard on you. You've probably never been through something like this before."

She stared.

"Do you want to tell me about how witches came to be. Stefan says that it has something to do with being the descendent of faeries?"

She stared.

The doctor sighed. She rubbed her forehead.

"Wrong."

The doctor startled and Caroline was too. Was that her voice? The once melodic voice Caroline bragged about during choir as a child. No, that could not be hear voice. This place couldn't take that from her too.

"What am I wrong about?"

This place was Damon. This place had to be something of his creation. Why else would Stefan bring her here. This was revenge.

"I've been through worse."

Let Damon try to break her.

"Where are you?"

"Greenland. It's fucking cold out here. You'd think you'd see some nice grassy plains or a forest, but all I see here is ice."

"As much as I'd love to dispute the improper naming of Greenland, I need to know how much longer it will take until they are all broken."

"Only three are holding out, but we'll break them soon enough."

"How soon is soon?"

"Give me a week."

The line went dead.

There were two girls that Caroline felt a sort of kinship with in her time there. She did not know their names, but she felt a connection to the girls.

One of them was a dark haired girl with olive skin. She never saw her face, but she fought the guards with such fire that Caroline wished she could go out and help her. The girl practically burned with life as she bit, punched, and cursed the guards out. She never won. She never will win. But she fought them anyways and with everything that she had.

The other girl was small and brown skinned. She was shorter than Caroline's, but she held fire too. She did not out right fight the guards like the other girl, but she still defied them. She would hide herself and force the guards to look for her. She would steal things. She would trip them. And when she could do nothing more she would stare them down with a look that showed why Dante described the seventh level of hell as cold.

She felt close to these two girls because they fought. And seeing them fight inspired her to fight back too. She would antagonize the guards. Sometimes to the point that they hit her, but she never stopped until they knocked her unconscious or until they dropped her off at where ever she needed to be. They were the only ones left that were still actively resisting. All the others had long since broken. They cried pitifully in their cages and begged for death.

Some of them were already dead.

Caroline had to live though. She wanted Damon to see that no matter what happened to her and no matter what he did, she would live on and smile.

Besides it was only a matter of time before she would be able to burn this place down just like she did to Damon's castle.

Her least favorite doctor had a long crooked nose and a confident gait. Despite his short, stocky stature, blemished face and thick rimmed glasses he walked liked he was the hottest thing since the Avengers (and Caroline had only seen the movie once and was highly attracted to all of them).

He was a talker too. He would drone on and on about the most mundane things. Caroline would some times wonder if this was one of their tests. Another trial to see how she would react. When he noticed that Caroline was not hanging on to his every word with rapt attention and adoration he made her suffer.

It wasn't her fault that he was boring.

Today he was the one that was administering a check up. They did these every once in awhile. Making sure that the deplorable conditions that they were kept in did not end up killing them from disease or something like that. Witches were a rare commodity and they had to be well taken care of. The thought made Caroline snort and the scientist glanced up at her before smiling with his yellowed teeth.

"Ah, yes. I found what the Prime Minister of Canada said very amusing too. Such quick wit that man has. It was an honor to meet him."

Caroline's thoughts began to tunnel. She wondered how her two friends back in the cages were. She wondered if they were okay. She mainly worried about the fighter. She had been injured in her last tussle with the guards. They had broken something and though Caroline did not see it she heard that sickening crack and knew it could be nothing but bone. She hoped that she was okay. Maybe these sick fucks would actually help her for once. But then Caroline thought better than that, they would probably want to see if pain tolerance was different in witches than it was in humans. Maybe they would use this moment to extract some bone marrow from her to examine. No, these people would not heal her, it was too golden of an opportunity for them to pass. They would probably—

Caroline grabbed his hand from her thigh. She turned her head to look at him.

"What are you doing?"

He gave her a greasy smile.

"I know that you must be suffering a lot in here. All the tests that we put you through. Trust me just administering and scheduling those tests gets tiring. So, I thought maybe you deserve a break you know. A chance to relax and feel good…" He tried to move his hand again, but Caroline tightened her grip.

Caroline didn't even think. She just punched him in the face.

Her hands both tightened into fist and she let them fly. She didn't care about where she hit or how hard but she needed to hit something. She hated this place and what it was doing to her. She hated this place and what it made her. She hated that she was alone. She hated that all her friends were gone. She hated that all she had left were memories that were fading away year by year. She hated Damon. She hated Stefan. She hated who she was right now.

A savage sound rang throughout the room. It was jarring and primal. It wasn't human. Hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her off of the man. His face was bloodied and beginning to swell, but that sound didn't cease.

It wasn't until they knocked her out that she knew it came from her.

"Where are you?"

"Following a lead, sir."

"Oh? On what?"

"There is a rumor floating about that Klaus might have finally found the witch that he needs."

"Really? And where is she?"

"Rumor has it that she might be somewhere in France."

"Klaus might already be there then."

"Undoubtedly."

"Bring the witch to me. And if you can bring Klaus too."

"Alive or dead sir?"

A laugh. "You know I don't care. I just want a body."

"Of course sir."

"Ah, Stefan I knew the moment that you came to me you would never let me down."

"I never intend to Mikael."

There is a specific type of fear that spreads throughout the body when you fear for your life. It starts in your chest, a heavy ball of fear and anger because how could this happen? And what is going to happen next are the most prevalent thoughts that run through the mind but overall the only emotion that can be accurately pinpointed is fear. And that fear, it becomes liquid. It melts into a heavy, thick sludge that trudges down from the heart and coils the stomach. It grips the brain and rattle the bones. This fear is all consuming and it warps how perception. Everything is a threat, everything is a danger.

This is what Caroline opened her eyes to. This fear was wrapped around her heart, and rattling her bones. The rapid firing of guns shook the facility and the sound of explosions made the girls in their cages beads inside a maraca.

Caroline was accustomed to fear, she was used to being scared and afraid, but she was not herself anymore. She wasn't the bubbly Princess Caroline, she wasn't the Witch who Lived in the Woods. She was a hollow form of who she was. If she didn't like herself before, she hated herself now. But she would live. Damon would see her smiling face from Hell. She would live just to spite him.

When the fire stopped and the explosion ended, men flooded into the room. They wore all black tactical gear, similar to the gear that Stefan and his men wore when they came to get her. The men went door to door, cooing at the girls cowering in the corner. They shot the locks off with their bigs guns and they coerced the girls out. The man who shot off her lock looked surprised when she didn't come out immediately. She stared at him from behind a shivering frame and throbbing ribcage.

"Aren't you going to leave?" he asked. He was English, his voice having that lilting accent that the English do.

She shrugs. "The last men who came for me dressed like you put me here."

"Sweetheart, I would never put you in another cage."

Caroline looked around. The other girls were being helped out, but even the girls that she connected with we're getting up and leaving. Caroline raised her nose to him, snuffing him. "What do you want then?"

"To stop this from happening again."

Her eyes narrowed. The words of her mother ringing in her ears, but with everything that had happened her words were dulled. Caroline was tired. She didn't want to fight alone anymore.

"Come on. I dare you to give me a chance."

And the fire was reignited. Caroline looked down at him from her nose and sighed. "What's your name?"

"Niklaus, but you can call me Klaus."

Author's Note:

I'm tired. Stay safe guys.

Until next time,

wanderlust-bitethedust