Page 9 of Ravage

"Hold her, please," he says to one of the men, a thick hand coming into view as they press down on my forearm.

"Stop!" I plead, watching in horror as Dr. West pulls the cap off the stick, bringing the needle to my skin.

"It will only hurt for a second," he replies, piercing the skin as I let out a small yelp.

My arm erupts with burning pain as the tip slides into my vein with roughness, a cannula inserted. Dr. West grabs a piece of tape from Dr. Cromwell's outstretched hand, slapping it over my skin to hold the cannula in place.

Immediately, the pain eases, but my anxiety doesn't. Reaching into a medical dish, he lifts up a vial and second needle, drawing the fluid into the syringe.

I already know that whatever is coming can't be good, but I'm helpless to stop it. The needle enters the cannula port and the feeling of cold liquid shoots through my veins.

It doesn't take long before my body slumps into the chair, muscles relaxing as my vision blurs a little. I expect to go unconscious, but I don't.

It's a horrible realization as my mind starts to swim through the possibilities of what's happening, struggling to grasp onto a single thought.

Dr. Cromwell leans over to look at me, giving me a small smile. "Feeling okay?" she asks warmly.

"No…" I manage to croak out.

"She's fine," Dr. West replies dryly, turning the machine screen to face him. "We'll start with seventy volts at an interval of one millisecond. Have you hooked up the pulse monitor?"

"Doing that now," Dr. Cromwell answers as I feel something pressed over my fingertip.

Volts…

Through the haze, it pieces together, and in a last effort attempt to fight, I throw everything I have against the straps. They tighten and press into my skin, digging painfully as I struggle.

"Don't do that, Avery…" Dr. Cromwell says concerned. "You'll be fine."

I snap my gaze to her angrily, perplexed that something so fucking inhumane is happening. "Let me go. Right fucking now."

She sighs quietly under her breath, stepping back as she glances over my body to her colleague.

"Alright," Dr. West says loudly, the machine beeping as he presses some buttons. "Let's begin in three, two… one."

It takes a minute to process what's happening, my body and mind blanking as the sound of loud hissing reaches my ears. But then I realize I can hear a scream through it.

It's mine.

Chapter 4

Damon

** Six Years Old **

I let out a little hiss as blood bubbles through the cut on my knee, stinging as I quickly wipe away gravel. It hurts—a lot, but I don't have anyone to blame but myself. Mom warned me not to take my bicycle to this part of the yard. It's become overgrown, and the recent storm that ravaged the area has spilled debris everywhere.

But I knew better.

I always do.

"Oh, Damon," I hear Mom's soothing voice as her soft footsteps approach.

Glancing up from the ground, I smile at her, the black strands of her hair dancing around her shoulders. She leans down, inspecting the graze on my knee.

"Did you come off your bike?"

I nod. "I hit a rock, I think. It hurts."

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