Omega displays signs of distress and increased muscle movements of the shoulders, neck, and torso at firm and direct questioning. Volume increased to level three.
OM: I was alone. I would shop alone while the pack did other things.
DS: What other things? Focus, Omega. Think.
Doctor begins application of designation-specific pheromone therapy to reduce Omega distress.
OM: I…work. Or something. It had to be work. It was a weekday.
Noted new detail recall, also consistent with police reports.
DS: Very good, Omega! Do you know which one? Come on; you can do it.
OM: No. I can’t remember.
Conclusion of Phase 1. Commencing Phase 2. Immediate reaction from omega subject. Cessation of involuntary muscle movements and signs of distress. Relaxed physical and mental state achieved.
DS: Anything else you remember, Omega?
OM: I was going to make spaghetti bolognaise. It was Alex’s favorite.
DS: Alex, one of your former bond mates, yes?
Omega gives affirmative head movement.
OM: His Nonna shared her secret recipe with me as a bonding present.
DS: Do you remember her name?
OM: She was always just…Nonna.
DS: Who else was there that night? Who were you making that special recipe for? What were their names?
Omega displays designation specific distress signals.
OM: Alex…Roman…Isaac. M—my alphas. They’re gone. Why are they gone?
DS: There was another alpha there that night. Who was he? Remember, Omega.
Noting use of designation specific persuasion method by Dr. Stuart. Omega increasingly agitated.
OM: I don’t know!
Request for chemical intervention noted.
~~End Of Session~~
A sharp prick of a needle in my neck drags me back toward reality, but I see their frozen faces every time I blink, the fear and pain I wasn’t there to stop. An alpha command echoes in my mind, stronger than any Dr. Stuart used on me, a command that still makes my blood turn to ice.
Never speak my name again. Forget my face. Or you will die. Just like them.
It takes less than thirty seconds for the numb bliss of the meds to kick in, and for once, I’m grateful for it. Anything to stop the images flying by. There are voices around me, but I don’t care to understand anything they’re saying. Multiple pairs of hands lift me off the floor and settle me into a wheelchair, my body limp and exhausted.
“It’s almost time for lunch. Bring her out to the dining room. She needs to get more weight on her.”
I know that voice. Claire. The nice nurse. I nod, not sure what I’m agreeing to, but willing to go with it if it gets me away from this place.
Chapter three
