He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in this cell, but the starvation was starting to really get to him. Most vampires could go four, maybe five months without any food at all, but for kids like him who were still growing, he’d be lucky if he lasted a month before his mind started to go. At some point, he’d lost control of his fangs and his vision had begun to narrow turning to tunnel vision, hyper-focusing on any and all movement he managed to detect between bouts of blissful sleep. The dim light of the room was mostly welcome…but without a day-night cycle to them, there was absolutely no way to tell how much time had passed beyond the effects he felt physically. After being bound to the ground with his legs folded under him for so long, arms pulled taunt above his head by a hexed plank of wood that stretched his spine without mercy, a rough lose band of metal around his hips, he doubted he could stand up on his own anymore. His ability to heal had shut itself off quite awhile ago, thick scabbed and bruises lined his raw hips where he’d struggled and shifted against the band that had once sat rather snugly around his waist, but now hung at an odd angle on his sunken form and it was nothing but bad news. Healing was one of the last things to go. If he went much longer without food he might lose himself entirely. Shifting now only caused aches and pain to shoot through his body and clench his teeth around the metal gag in his mouth that pressed uncomfortably tight against his elongated fangs, the people who held him were surprisingly smart. This muzzle wasn’t to keep him from biting that could be done with a simple band across his mouth, no.
This gag was to keep him from calling for help.
He felt his skin squirm under the gaze of the newest observer who stopped in front of the glass of his holding cell, paper and pen in hand as he scribbled down notes. The sound was grating against his pounding head, but he welcomed any noise to the deafening silence normally present in the hallways, and as much as he hated to admit it. It seemed to be the only thing that could tear his mind away from the constant internal screams for food.
“Should we feed him first?”
“And take off that muzzle?” his eyes dulled at the answer, glowering at the two as they spoke, “Release the prep field and take him to the sealing chamber…”
Sealing? Ha…As if humans could ‘seal’ anything adequately...At least...He thought they were human. Finch turned his head as much as he could from the two behind the glass, trying to look disinterested as the barrier clicked off, refusing to give them the satisfaction of his gaze as the access door to the room opened as a third man entered.
The chain holding his arms up was abruptly slackened falling to the floor with a clank as he was dragged down with it, pitching forward as he choked on his gag, crying out in pain as his muscles begged for him to stop, to return to their previous position, but he didn't have the strength to lift his head from the floor, let alone his arms. As forehead made contact with the smooth, cool tile he was sat on, finding relief as the cold offered some sort of pain reducer to his ever-present headache, they grabbed him. His shoulders screamed in protest as his hands were grabbed, forced behind him and re-locked as the restraints around his waist and knees were opened, his back spasmed trying to readjust to not being suspended.
“Clean off that blood, we don’t want it attacking before its time” Surprisingly gentle hands wiped at the crusted blood skin rippling in displeasure and pain under the cloth as Finch tried his damdest to ignore it, tensing his shoulders and shifting what he could of his arms to distract himself.
“Remain still, or you will be drugged again” Finch froze in terror at the mention of it, barely even daring to breath as he squeezed his eyes shut in fear as he was lifted to a sitting position again, held up by a pair of hands on his shoulders. The drugs he’d only been given twice since coming here before he learned his lesson. They promised nothing but searing pain and horrific spasms as a way to control the otherwise stronger entities they had imprisoned here.
“Up boy.” Finch tried, but his knees weren’t cooperating, standing and falling over and over, his adrenaline the only thing allowing him to make any headway, until one of the men took mercy on him, hoisting him to his feet and helping him stand as he tried to steady himself and found his shaky footing.
“Not one bite attempt”
“Noted” the four stopped at a heavy duty locked door, mechanical whirring picked up as it began to open, the room inside was massive, Finch lowered his head, squinting at the sudden light after so long.
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