Chapter 8
I awoke rather abruptly, my body jolting an attempting to shoot up right; I probably would have if it wasn't for the large straps securing me to the table. My head hurt like hell and my eyes were a little fuzzy. I tried to look around, I presumed I as still at Antigen, the room was very clinical, blinding white, and filled with medical and scientific equipment, I couldn't tell what type though. It was either Antigen or a mental hospital; I kind of hoped it was a mental hospital. I knew there was no use attempting to slip the straps; here at Antigen they're made of Graphene, a fabric two hundred times stronger than structural steal, the only thing strong enough to hold down the subjects when things get physical. I know because I helped Dr Lane source it last year.
As I examined the room a stinging tingle grew in my shoulder with the more strain I put on it. I looked down as much as I could; I lifted my head from the table, trying to get a better view. All I saw was my chest and a baby blue hospital gown covered in navy polka dots. At least Antigen had style when it came to forcibly experimenting on people.
"Miss Newgate," A blurry Dr Stevenson smiled as he waltzed through the door. I tried to speak, shout, scream but nothing came out. I lifted my head to get a better look at the man. He was smiling, quite widely, a clipboard in hand. "I see we have our mobility back, your speech will come too, it just takes times for the drugs to ware off," The old man said, checking the IV and blood pack beside the table. My eyes widened. Drugs? What drugs? Was I some sort of expendable guinea pig now? "Don't worry, we just gave you a sedative," Dr Stevenson's smiled down at me. He soon tottered off to the window to my left, showing a beautiful sweeping view of the city, the bright lights twinkling in black night. "You took on your transformation impeccably early, full moon isn't for over a week," He said, mainly to himself. He sounded fascinated, like I was some kind of experiment. It was only a few seconds later I realised what he was talking about. Full moon. Transformation. I put one and one together and got two. A tear slipped down my cheek, it was warm and tickly and I couldn't even wipe or scratch it.
"It's nothing to cry about Victoria, you're lucky Quint turned you, or you'd be probably be in a ditch somewhere, that is what happened to Dr Lane's last secretary," Dr Stevenson cooed, bending down to my level and wiping the tear from my cheek with his rough, wrinkly thumb. I turned away rebelliously, refusing to look at the old fiend. I so badly wanted to shout and spit in his face. I pulled all my strength together and focussed.
"Y…y," I choked; the word would come out eventually. Dr Stevenson grasped my chin in his thumb and forefinger, pulling my face to meet his.
"Speak up Victoria," He mocked.
"Yo...You're," I choked, glaring the old man down.
"I am, Quint is of course, as you know. His father too, plus many others working at the company," He divulged. "And now so are you,"
"How is she?" A gritty voice asked from the doorway, bizarrely I actually felt relieved to hear his voice, even though it that son of a bitch who put me in this situation. Quint strolled over, examining my condition. His face twisted into an anger I hadn't seen before, his eyes blackening. "I told you to get me when she woke," He hissed.
"She only just awoke Quint, I was about to fetch you," Dr Stevenson smiled a sickly sweet smile. "I found out some marvellous things about her," The doctor was giddy like a little school boy. Quint just grunted, reaching for the buckle on one of the straps. "Oh I wouldn't do that, it seems by turning her you have passed on some of your strength, the drugs will ware off pretty soon,"
"I'll take my chances," Quint mumbled, unbuckling me.
"Your father called, he said our work on you had reached… new heights," Dr Stevenson said, pun obviously intended. "I was going to see whether your new quality had also been passed on to her. She could be a revelation, the next generation would have no need for the injections and-" Dr Stevenson exclaimed, riling himself up.
"I already told you, she is not one of your lab rats," Quint growled, unbuckling the last buckle. The freedom felt amazing, except there was one tiny problem, I couldn't move my arms and legs, I pushed myself so hard, but only one finger twitched slowly.
"That's really not up to you son," Dr Lane's voice spoke from just outside the doorway, I couldn't see him from my spot on the table, but I knew it was him, his firm, authoritative voice gave it away. Plus the son part, that was a big clue. The room fell silent, the only audible thing being my wheezy breathes and a pair of sinister footsteps. "I told you to dispose of her," Dr Lane hissed.
"Father I-"
"Why is it son, with your impeccable senses you never seem to hear a god damn thing I say," Dr Lane's voice cut through the air like a warm knife through butter.
"I already paid for her medical care, I was protecting our investment," Quint argued.
"Jacob I'm going to step outside, this seems to be more of a family matter," Dr Stevenson dropped in to the conversation, creeping towards the door.
"You're right it is John, so I'll deal with you later," Dr Lane said, eyeing Dr Stevenson as he disappeared out the door. Dr Jacob Lane stepped forward, closer to his son, closer to me. He glanced at my helpless form on the table before glaring into his son's eyes. "Don't you try make this about the money, that is no object to us. This about you and your fascination for her. You want love? That is a human weakness!" Dr Lane bellowed, practically foaming at the mouth. I blushed, awkwardly embarrassed, but thank god they were both too focussed on the fight to notice. "You are getting soft, weak like them," Dr Lane added, pointing out the window to my left. Quint's eye twitched furiously as he gritted his teeth. Evidently his father had struck a nerve. I couldn't believe this was happening, I felt like a dead weight in the middle of a battle zone.
"Just because you choose to be alone doesn't mean I have to," Quint spoke through gritted teeth. "You cannot set the rules, you are not our creator. You cannot stand in his place." Quint growled.
"Whose? Lucians? He is long dead, the reason? He suffered from the same weakness that you are succumbing to!" Dr Lane argued. Lucian the first true Lycan, I'd read about him before. He died long before the purge, prior to us even knowing of the existence of lycans and vampires. I read that he was the first Lycan, son to a feral werewolf. He married a vampire, who was executed for their love, and that's how the war between the races began. I presumed this to be fiction, written by fan girls to humanise the Lycans, I guess I was wrong.
"That same weakness also managed to fuel a six hundred year war father; I thought you would have more respect for our elders," Quint hissed, turning away from his father. He lifted me from the table, tucking his arms under my back and knees, lifting me up bridal style. My arms and legs dangled helplessly as I rested my head against him.
"I do respect them, but it doesn't stop me from wanting us to be stronger than them," Jacob added, staring at the join of my neck and shoulder. He sighed outwardly, the muscles in his cheeks twitching ferociously.
"She is your responsibility Quint, you cannot just turn people and expect things to go smoothly, she will transform, and she will want to hunt and kill," Dr Lane warned, stepping aside for Quint to leave.
"Yes sir," Quint responded, strengthening his grip on me.
"I will be monitoring her progress, as your protégé John said she has already shown to be… enhanced… like yourself. If she is going to breathe life she may as well be of some use to us," Dr Lane added bitterly, acknowledging Dr Stevenson's findings. Quint exited the room swiftly, turning down the corridor. I recognised this corridor, the claw marks on the wall, and the debris all over the marble floor.
"Wh… where?" I struggled.
"First, your place," Quint said, pushing the 'call' elevator button.
By time he collected my things, sifted through my bag for an address, as I was still too incapacitated to give it at the time, and driven in his very nice car to my apartment I had begun to get some feeling in my arms and legs. My lips were no longer numb, and I was able to string some sort of sentence together.
"Which floor?" He asked, pulling up outside the scruffy building. The local gang was chilling on the apartment steps, checking out the vehicle. I'm no car buff; I think it was a Ferrari? Don't quote me though.
"Top," I slurred. Getting out he slammed his door shut, circling around the car to open mine.
"Can you walk?" He asked, in a short, annoyed tone. I didn't ask to be drugged. He glanced around at the gangs as they snickered.
"Maybe," He pulled me from the car, my legs weak and nearly giving way, he popped an arm around me, taking most of my weight.
"Buddy, I thought with money like yours you wouldn't need date rape to get some," One guy shouted out, smirking and licking his teeth. Quint shot them a deadly look, locked his car remotely and helped me clamber the stone steps. We managed to get to the second floor before drama ensued.
"Hey Blondie!" A drunken voice echoed. Quint carried on manoeuvring me over to the next flight of stairs. "Hey Victoria I'm talkin' to you!" The voice persisted. Quint turned us around to face my highly intoxicated and probably high landlord.
"Bobby," I murmured, sounding almost drunk myself.
"How can you…" Bobby hissed, pointing in my direction. "Ride around in a car like that, when you owe me my money?" He asked angrily, gripping onto the wall for support. I'd completely forgot my rent with all the chaos happening over the last couple of days.
"I can pay tomorrow," my words all melted into one.
"No!" He shouted, saliva flying from his lips. "You or your boyfriend pay now!" He threatened, pulling a knife out of his tracksuit pocket. I squeaked at the sight of the blade, I never was one for conflict, especially conflict that involved deadly weapons. Quint was scarily calm, but then again of course he was, I doubt that blade was silver. Quint eased me on to the stairs into a sitting position, leant up against the peeling plaster wall as he stepped towards the drunk man. Quint didn't say anything as he advanced on the man.
"Ha! Boyfriend thinks he's tough, how about I gut you rich boy," Bobby laughed menacingly. Suddenly Quint thrust his hand out, tearing straight through Bobby's flesh and into his stomach. The blade dropped to the ground out of land lord's sweaty palm.
"How about I gut you first," Quint smirked, twisting his hand through Bobby's insides. I couldn't help it, the sight was horrifying, I instantly projectile vomited onto the floorboards at the bottom of the stairs. Quint released Bobby once the life had been sucked from his eyes, his body dropping to the floor just like the knife, with a thud.
Quint's hand and forearm where bathed in blood and flesh. He stalked back over to me, stepping over my puddle of sick. He said nothing, pulling me to my feet with his clean hand. I shuddered as he helped me up the stairs, my eyes firmly fixed on the leaking body of my former land lord.
"You'll get used to it," Quint's rough voice spoke, breaking the silence as he shook of the excess blood from his hand.
"I hope not," I slurred, a rogue tear running down my face.