Aphrodite
Chapter 28

Time seemed an illusion in the sunless, airless confines of the prison, a world of concrete and steel designed to disorient and diminish Rachel. It felt as though her captors were intent on severing her from the very threads of her being, transforming her into something fragmented and hollow.

In the beginning, the methods were subtle: frigid air circulated, lights blazed too bright, too long, and the meals provided barely skirted the edge of subsistence. They left her stomach gnawing at itself, a constant internal shriek of hunger that reminded her of her precarious state. With no way to replenish her essence, each day she grew hungrier and weaker, a mere shadow of her former self.

As the days passed, isolation, more than anything, began to drain her life force. With no one to converse with and no touch, human or otherwise, her only companion was the dwindling landscape of her imagination.

Initially, Rachel fought back, managing to short-circuit the lighting to carve out brief moments of sanctuary in the darkness. However, her captors adapted, transferring her to a cell specifically designed to restrict her powers. Each attempt to summon her purple lights drained her further; she felt her energy dissipate with every use. Her reserves were running dry, and there was nothing available to replenish them.

When sleep finally claimed her, it was Vlad who populated her dreams. She basked in the remembered warmth of his body pressed against hers and their moments by the riverbanks. These memories formed a sanctuary she clung to, refusing to let them fade away, even if they served only as fleeting refuge from the desolate reality she was ensnared in.

In her waking hours, Rachel found herself absentmindedly tracing the Abaddon’s mark. Strangely, it was this terrible mark that offered some semblance of warmth against the artificial chill her captors seemed to delight in. Despite its origin, the mark became a paradoxical source of comfort, a constant reminder of the power it represented, even as it bound her to a fate she struggled to accept.

The scientists interrogated Rachel daily, bombarding her with a barrage of questions designed to extract her secrets. While their motives remained unclear, their human nature was evident. Determined, Rachel resolved not to become their sacrificial offering on the altar of greed and ambition.

The scientists grilled Rachel about her past, her lineage, and the mysterious realms like Inanis, about which they clearly knew so little. Despite their persistent questioning, Rachel refused to talk. She understood the weight of the silence upheld by the other creatures; if they had chosen not to divulge their secrets, she wouldn’t betray their collective decision by being the one to break.

Physical and emotional torture became the scientists’ next tactic, each session marking Rachel’s body with a map of fresh wounds and darkening bruises. When the tasers shocked her, the scent of singed flesh filled the air, and her muscles seized in agonizing cramps. These horrific experiences began to blur the line between her nightmares and reality, each visit from the lab-coated figures turning her cell into a recurring scene of dread and pain.

She cried more than she’d like to admit, tears carving their salty trails down her face. It was a bitter lesson: the protective shield her Aphrodite nature afforded her against supernatural creatures was futile against this very human menace.

One day, teetering on the brink of exhaustion, Rachel sat on the floor, her will to live slowly dissolving. Suddenly, the metallic clank of the cell door sounded. Before she could fully process what was happening, the scientists unceremoniously threw another person into the cell. A young woman sprawled across the floor, her platinum blonde hair fanning out like a ghostly halo around her face.

Rachel stared, perplexed and wary. The sudden addition of another captive left her confused; she had no idea why they had done this, what cruel game they were playing by confining another person in this miserable space.

Driven by a desperate hunger for essence, Rachel had resorted to the unthinkable. She attempted to tap into the vampiric abilities she had developed from her bond with Vlad, draining blood from the woman beside her. However, it proved futile; the bond had been broken, and the blood did nothing to restore her essence.

Rachel wept for her own actions, her heart a cauldron of guilt and regret. Her spirit, it seemed, had finally fractured under the weight of human cruelty. She felt as if her identity had been irrevocably stained, leaving her a creature of darkness, twice a killer now.

The young woman’s body lay unmoved for hours, serving as a grim reminder of Rachel’s desperate act. Waves of guilt, disgust, and self-hatred surged through her, each emotion carving deeper fissures in her already crumbling psyche.

With a trembling arm, Rachel reached toward the woman’s unmoving form. Each inch felt like a mile, her fingers scraping along the cold floor in a pathetic crawl. What drove her was regret, a need to touch what was left of the life she’d extinguished.

Rachel knew her own body was inching close to the edge of existence; her heart felt like it could give out at any moment, each beat a struggle. Gone were the sensations she once took for granted—the radiant warmth of sunlight on her skin and the earthy aroma that precedes a storm. These memories haunted her, sharp reminders of what she feared she might never experience again.

As she finally reached the woman, Rachel’s fingers brushed against her arm. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach when she felt the unmistakable, lifeless coldness of the woman’s skin—a chilling confirmation of the irreversible act she had committed in desperation.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel choked out, her voice breaking as she gripped the woman’s wrist. “I’m so, so sorry.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she gently brushed the hair from the woman’s face, revealing a youthful beauty that was marred only by their tragic circumstances. “It’s not you. It’s this place, this damned place. They’re destroying all of us.” Her voice grew softer, filled with a sorrowful resignation. “Your fate would have been the same, no matter who you encountered here. And that’s the cruellest injustice of all.”

With a weary bend of her arm, she let her head rest atop it, maintaining her hold around the woman’s wrist. The contact felt like a necessity, a barrier against the invasive coldness that should never have claimed this young life.

Her gaze drifted to the mark of the Abaddon on her own arm. A troubling thought persisted: why hadn’t any creatures come to save her? Weren’t they far more powerful than any human creation? Unless—unless—the humans had found a way to harness those powers, to replicate the indomitable abilities of the creatures. Was she destined to be discarded once they extracted what they needed from her?

“Both of you have abandoned me,” she whispered, her voice fractured by despair. “I’m starting to question whether either of these bonds mean anything at all.”

As if in response, the mark on her arm pulsed with a newfound warmth. A thin tendril of dark light spiralled out, wrapping itself around her skin before reaching toward the woman. Rachel gasped as she saw the dark and purple luminescence seep into the young woman’s arm, snaking its way through visible veins. It was as if the darkness within her had taken on a life of its own, forging a connection she didn’t fully understand, yet couldn’t pull away from.

As the last wisps of her essence trickled out, Rachel felt herself teetering on the brink of oblivion. It was as if the chilling winds of Inanis had crept into her cell, swirling around her legs before wrapping her torso in an icy embrace.

Suddenly, another luminescent thread appeared, tracing the same path into the woman’s body. Trembling, Rachel leaned forward, her palm gently cupping the woman’s cheek. Her touch revealed a startling change: the woman’s skin was warming, its previous pallor replaced by a glow.

Confused and wary, Rachel moved her fingers to the woman’s wrist, searching for a pulse. Finding none, she gasped as the puncture marks on the woman’s neck magically vanished. Suddenly, with a raspy inhalation, the woman jolted back to life, startling Rachel.

Rachel recoiled in astonishment, her own breath catching as if she had been underwater and had just surfaced. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. “I’m sorry,” Rachel stammered, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what just happened.” Her eyes wide, she stared at the woman, grappling with the reality of the inexplicable revival. “I didn’t want this. They didn’t give me a choice.”

The woman blinked her eyes open, her eyes locking onto Rachel. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

As Rachel watched the woman’s gradual recovery, she noticed something extraordinary: her own essence was regenerating. She recalled the bird by the river and glanced at the Abaddon mark on her arm. A realisation washed over her—the mark had replenished her essence, infusing her with a newfound power that far surpassed anything she had ever experienced from vampiric feeding.

Just as Rachel reached out to touch the woman again, the lights in the cell blazed to an intense brightness. She shielded her eyes with her arm. Before she could fully process what was happening, the glass door swung open. Humans clad in full protective gear stormed into the cell, their attention immediately zeroing in on her.

There was no hiding now. Two of them approached Rachel, wielding devices that unleashed shocks through her body. She screamed as simultaneous jolts struck her torso and arm, her muscles convulsing in unbearable agony.

As they carted the woman away and exited, Rachel was left curled in a foetal position on the ground. They’d seen everything. They now knew she wasn’t just a vampire, but something far more perplexing. Yet, the events had ignited a spark of hope within her. She wouldn’t give up; she wouldn’t let them conquer her. With renewed determination, she vowed to endure, for the Abaddon’s mark had revealed a glimpse of a power they could never understand. And so, she clung to that elusive hope—the one thing the humans couldn’t take away.

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