My pregnancy was already twelve weeks along, so time had flown by quickly. Now, my husbands, as well as Wulfe, wanted me to rough up Mariella. I couldn't help but wonder why. I knew I could do it, and Mariella might be able to handle it, but I wasn't sure. I could be incredibly creepy and nasty, and my plan wasn't just physical force but also included nasty mind games.
Well, it was what it was, so I continued to prepare my little torture chamber. I released certain pheromones and gathered my supplies, including several items with very specific uses. As I worked, I could feel my dark side, my inner torturer, slowly rising and stretching itself.
This wasn't entirely my darkness, but it was the part of me that loved to kill. When dominant, this part of me switched my brain into a completely different mode where physical pleasure was replaced by the desire to inflict hurt and suffering on others.
Wulfe had done some work with this part of me, but since I had kept it suppressed, he hadn't fully understood it. The Salvatores, on the other hand, had never truly felt this side of me. I remembered when this part had become strong before: when Bran raped me, during the alpha party, and then after Jake's death and that world-saving gig. I had let this part out then, and it had grown strong and fast.
I had mostly hidden it away, but I had taken it out here and there. As it is, it gets stronger with every terrible thing that happens in my life, so it was considerably stronger now than the last time I had truly unleashed it, given how plentiful shit in my life has been.
As I prepared my little show, I was certain that men would be watching. I knew the possible outcomes, and despite the fact that it might seem bleak to some, I was once again the alpha female, and I had my duties to fulfill.
The little snowball had just hatched a perfect plan to stay on top. I harbored suspicions about its true motive, sensing Wulfe's desire to address this particular side of things properly. Despite his repeated assurances to me and several Salvatores that I was no monster, I couldn't help but shake my head, knowing they would soon witness the truly nasty monster I could be.
And there would be no regrets; this would compel every single Salvatore to heal Mariella, not as sex slaves, but to love her dearly. This would free me to do as I pleased, without their constant hovering. Moreover, it would serve as a much-needed outlet for certain frustrations in my life.
If they truly wished to see this side of me, who was I to stop them? I was the queen of vampires, Mimi Salvatore: immortal, unkillable, a chimera, and a very nasty monster when I chose to be.
It was time to begin, and I could feel my monster side stirring, eager and ready. I had so many ideas and ample material to draw from. I knew Wulfe would also be occupied with Mariella after this, giving me time to rein in my monstrous side again, not needing him to deal with it, at least not yet. It was simply time to show them how it was done.
I walked calmly down the corridor, maintaining a neutral expression, and spotted Mariella in the upstairs living room, engrossed in a book.
Approaching her casually, I said, "Come on, let's cook. I have plenty of ingredients, and since the men are busy with God knows what, meaning the children, we can whip up something."
She rose, smiling, and replied, "Oh, that's a good idea. My nausea is easing, so I might actually eat something."
She was, once again, in decent shape, well-fed, but not for long. As she walked ahead, I reached into my pocket for a tiny syringe and abruptly jabbed it into her neck. She tensed before slumping bonelessly into my grip.
I teleported us into my private chamber. The first order of business was to hang her from the ceiling by spiked shackles on her wrists. She remained completely unconscious, a crucial part of my plan, so I stripped her naked. Her hands were spread, and she was suspended almost entirely in the air.
I then took strong, spiked, dirty shackles and spread her legs apart as well, holding her open—a perfect target. The room was quite chilly, and she was out cold. I then went to another room to change. My first outfit was sportswear: a top, tights, and sneakers with slightly spiked soles.
I was aware that men were already watching me, and I also knew Damon was becoming frustrated because Mariella had been hormonal, needy, and possessive once again. From his perspective, this was merely another lesson for Mariella.
However, he was unaware that he, along with others, would have to deal with the aftermath. After they would finally be free, it would be too late to suppress this side of me. I simply didn't want anyone to mess with me.
I began to beat, kick, and abuse Mariella's naked body. She was completely unaware of every kick, hit, and strike. I proceeded methodically, breaking five ribs in a row, her collarbone, tibia, and fibula. I dislocated her right ankle, broke her pelvis, and her cheek.
Bruises soon marred her body, making her look less like a lust queen and more like a victim. This was part of my plan, so she would wake up already bruised, sore, and in pain. I wasn't going to make this easy, but I kept my rage and creepiness strictly under control, for now. I didn't want to give the men a chance to stop me once my creepiness was fully unleashed; no, this was going to unfold exactly as I had planned.
After I had beaten and kicked Mariella into rough shape, I unhooked her, dragged her to a dentist's chair, and shackled her. I hadn't even cannulated her yet, though my dental substances were ready, and not all of them would be used in vain. My methods would work on many levels, and this would be a nasty, long lesson for Mariella and the entire pack.
Next, I proceeded to open one of my briefcases. Inside were special crystals, which I placed all around the room. Activating them one by one, I suppressed telepathy, energy usage, divine powers, and empathy. This would prevent Damon, the Salvatores, and Wulfe from having any insight into Mariella's mind, or mine for that matter.
They would only see and hear what I allowed them to. Wulfe was certainly strong, but I had my own tricks to keep him out of this for now. I had never fully revealed this aspect of myself to anyone, not even Magnum, Colin, or Wulfe, as this was one of my nastiest sides, and it would take Wulfe time to comprehend this facet of me.
A few hours later, Mariella started to stir. I was leaning against the wall, watching her, a dark smile curving my lips as she groaned in pain. I had a two-way mirror, and I knew the rest of the pack, well, most of them, were watching this. I was wearing scrubs, and Mariella was naked, strapped into that chair, in pain and messed up.
"What...argh...shit," she mumbled.
I said lazily, "Welcome back. Feeling a bit stiff? I did work you over, and since you are pregnant, no healing, plus my little crystals here might give you a nasty hangover kind of thing. Now, I must say this. I don't give a shit about your so-called secret. It was just a nice excuse for me to do this to you."
Mariella lifted her head, blinked slowly, and tried to speak. It was hard with a dislocated jaw. "Damon will stop you..."
I smiled, chillingly. "Oh, will he now? After all, you have been nothing but a cockhungry little whore, trying to make him a pussy slave when he is not in the mood. Nope. He is not going to save you, but just watch and enjoy. No need for him to dirty his paws, as he has me for this."
Mariella groaned as pain and aches started to set in.
Oh, let a bit more of my creepiness out. "Let's start then. Now, well, I must admit that your brother-in-law gave me some good inspiration as I have developed my methods over the years."
Mariella's mind was slow, and then she realized I was referring to Damien, Damon's evil twin, one I had destroyed personally. That made me a bit creepier, referring to him as a relative. I took a set of wires with strong, pincer-like attachments on one end, a bit like a car battery-starting kit, but these were a bit daintier but sharper.
"Now, I have already broken several of your ribs, so I can't put these on every one, but there are other bones in the body, you know."
I talked to myself as I walked next to her, and with a scalpel, I sliced her side open, proceeded to clamp one clamp on each rib, as Damien had once done to me.
"But you see, your brother-in-law used these clamps that pressed more and more, eventually snapping the bone, but I, despite his example, am not going to do it like that. Now, this part is from Damon. He used this bone-dissolving substance when he tortured me in Austria, so I made one of my own, again, not actually dissolving, but rather speeding up your bone formation. I am not sure if you have ever seen what bone cancer does to humans. It just eats the bone away, but it makes these spike-like growths. My substance acts a bit like that."
Mariella muttered something. It was hard to understand, as her jaw was swollen even more from trying to move it.
I slashed her arm and hooked one clamp onto her bones. Once all 34 clamps were in place, I walked to the control panel and switched it on. Smirking, I watched as my substances began to flow into her bones, interspersed with random electrical shocks. My crystals ensured she couldn't snatch the energy, forcing her to suffer through it. I was meticulously crafting her into a victim, layer by layer.
Having endured extensive and brutal torture myself, I had learned a few things. Firstly, physical pain is merely one layer; there are others, and recognizing their importance is crucial when inflicting pain.
I never delved too deep with my previous victims, perhaps out of wisdom, as I didn't want them to understand the full extent of my methods, which might have given them an advantage. This, in a way, was my secret, and I was about to reveal its full glory to my pack.
She soon began panting in pain, trying desperately to endure and remain strong, but this was only the beginning. It was time to amplify the creepiness. I retrieved a nasogastric tubing kit and inserted the tube into her nose, humming Nancy Sinatra's "Ladybird" under my breath. It was as if this process would be enjoyable for me, and in my current state of mind, it truly was.
As I moved to the side of the room where I had prepared several bags of my blood, I switched my song to "Amazing Grace," prompting Mariella to look at me with fear. I connected the first bag to her nasogastric tube and began to let it drip.
"As you know," I explained, "my powers evolve, and I mold them. I've devised a few little tricks that make the 'wulfe's spell' a bit iffy when it comes to discerning my will or my hints. And oh boy, I've put a lot of stuff into these bags. I'm letting them drip slowly; my hints are very subtle, but they do work. Just so you know."
Mariella muttered or slurred, "You are unhinged. This was not my aim..."
I simply smiled as she groaned when another jolt of electricity coursed through her.
"Have you ever heard about stillborn babies? While the phrase 'born sleeping' sounds sweet, the reality is rather more grim. Surely you understand the overwhelming feeling of holding a warm, wiggling, crying infant for the first time, seeing their eyes, and feeling that immediate love. But when an infant dies in utero, well, biology, as cruel as it may sound, begins to break down that fetus."
My inner Damien, as I almost called this side of me, knew precisely how to speak creepily. My hints were designed to deliver a long and hard psychological blow, ensuring the rest of the pack would be caring for her for quite some time, leaving me free to do as I pleased. Mariella looked at me, snarling, trying to maintain composure.
I continued my monologue: "That fetus, when it comes out, is not a pretty sight. As you know, the mother feels nothing when that heart stops, and biology takes over. And it's usually the woman who must give birth vaginally. Once the fetus is out, depending on how many days it's been dead inside the mother, there might be some rather nasty skin sloughing. This means the skin drips off, revealing bare muscle – it's rather patchy, mouth agape, not a pretty rosebud mouth. It might even be more decomposed. And, of course, being human and inherently fragile, they want to hold it, take pictures of this dead fetus, hold it, even when it looks like, well, a dead corpse."
I had some pictures, and my laptop was ready. I projected several images of stillborn babies onto the wall, choosing the most brutal ones to make Mariella gasp. She was hormonal and pregnant, so this was bound to have an impact.
" What would you do in this situation?" I mused aloud, letting her shock truly sink in. "Could you hold the baby, love it, or would it even be a baby, or just a corpse? Would there be a funeral?"
Oh, I was only just getting started. My blood carried a certain something that made these pictures sink deeply, making her feel this profoundly, positioning her as a victim. It would take a great deal of work from all the Salvatores to help her recover."
"And have you ever seen any birth defects? Surely a cleft lip is not the worst, but say, anencephaly, meaning no brain. Well, those infants look like frogs, with half their heads missing, huge eyes, and a grotesque appearance. And for humans, it is the neural tube that goes wrong, very early in pregnancy, needing folic acid. Thus, the supplements."
I took a pause. I had to make this one hit and hit hard. She was already feeling a bit of my blood, as it dripped into her stomach mercilessly. Pain tore through her, making her snarl, pant, sweat, and shake.
My concrete cube-like torture chamber, filled with my certain pheromones, crystals, and light fixtures that cast huge shadows moving on the walls, with a draft that felt on her skin from time to time, enforced her victimhood. There was no chance she would be strong after this, or that her recovery would need sex.
And why did I do this? I had my reasons, but one was love. I had taught Salvatores to love, to heal with love, and I was here making them a perfect target. It would not be a sex holiday, but she would be healed with their love, and it would be utterly new to her as well for salvatores. Despite losing them, I knew that. I had to do this.
I was once again selfless, putting others before myself. This was just one more huge sacrifice on my part, but as this was what our pack needed, it was a no-brainer for me. I just had to let them go, let them show the meaning of love, and learn to love Mariella too. There was simply no other way to do this.
I had thought this for a long time, ever since Mariella asked me this, and as I had pondered our pack, I had seen it. Our pack would never be whole unless this were to happen. What the future would be, I had no chance, but for now, I was still in the middle of my little show.