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“Patient zero one nine eight has displayed more aggression and some return of memories. She had to be taken down with more than six darts before she lost complete consciousness. She’s also overdue for her next injection to control her ability to reproduce.” He pauses for a moment, and I continue to keep my breathing even. I hate that he only refers to me as a number or his daughter. He refuses to use my name. “I banked some of my sperm before the accident. I should consider impregnating her. If the offspring was raised from birth with control and drugs, would it be better than the host?” I almost react from the thought of having his baby and him hurting it that way, but I maintain my control. He continues to talk, and I slowly open an eye. His back is to me. I know the gown will make noise and I won’t have much time.
I spring up off the table, ignoring the pain from the fresh bullet wounds. At least they were attended to while I was unconscious. I move fast, becoming the killer they created. I slam his head against the cabinets in front of him. Bone cracks and blood spurts. I reach for the scalpel on the counter and hold it to his carotid artery. Gripping his thin hair in my other hand, I drag him to the chair he’s tortured me in over and over. He starts to come to, and I grab the metal pan his fake penis is in and smack him hard across the face. He falls unconscious again, and I strap him in.
I look around the room. I have to take care of him, but I have questions. I walk over to the sink and fill the now dented pan with water then return to where he’s strapped down. He comes to, sputtering and yelling, when I throw the water at his face. I stand back and wait for him to stop as I casually tie up my hair.
“I don’t know if I can find a vein, so tell me what happens if I just shock you and don’t drug you.” I keep my voice low so he’ll have to stop yelling in order to hear me. I repeat what I said, and his eyes grow huge. I walk over to the machine and look at all the dials and switches. “I’m not sure how to turn this on.” I chuckle as I flip the switch, knowing how it all works. I’ve watched so many times, I know it by heart.
“Daughter, don’t,” he barks, trying to remain in authority from his prone position with that brain helmet over his head. There are wires coming out of it that connect to the machine.
“Can I have children?”
He scoffs and starts to laugh. I hit the switch and watch as his body jolts around in the chair.
“Yes. Yes, you can,” he finally says, his voice quivering. Tears roll down his face. I remember every time I cried and begged him not to do this to me.
“Why Dante?”
He rolls his lips into his teeth, and I hit the button again. I didn’t give him the bite block, so his teeth pierce his lips.
“I was hired to kill him.” Blood drips down his chin. “Please stop, my daughter,” he begs. Spittle and blood fly around him.
“I’m not your daughter!”
I hit the button again. This time I let him have it for a bit longer. He falls unconscious from the pain, and again I fill a bedpan with water and throw it at him. He wakes up, spitting blood from his mouth. His eyes darken and his jaw squares. He’s going to try to intimidate me now.
I can’t hold in the guffaw at his audacity. He can’t manipulate me.
“Who hired you?”
With his lips tight, he just stares at me. I move my hand to the switch and watch as his eyes finally flicker with emotion.
Fear.
I hit the button, giving him a short burst. He sighs in relief, and I hit it again. I do it over and over for about six reps of quick bursts of electricity in between quick moments of peace. When I finally stop, he’s not glaring at me anymore.
“The same man who hired me to have the Rossis killed.”
His words give me pause for only a moment, and I raise my eyebrows in shock. His sinister smile is wiped from his face when I hit him with another jolt of electricity. I move toward the tray next to him and stick him quickly in the arm with the IV needle. I slide the cannula in as he screams and flexes his arm.
I love that he made this room soundproof so none of his guards can hear what’s going on in here. I don’t know how many are out there, so my next question is about that.
He has no problem answering that one. There’s seven of them. I’m sure he told them not to disturb him because he always says that.
I slide the roller clamp to open the tubing and let the solution flow into his arm. I’m not going to medicate him yet. I want him lucid to answer my questions. Moving back to the cart holding the electric shock machine, I hit a quick burst to remind him I’m still in control.
His eyes are glazed over from all the pain he’s in, but I’m not going to give him a reprieve.
“Who hired you?” I bark, waking him up before he slips into unconsciousness.
“Revello,” he slurs, and I click the button to shock him. I know Dario wouldn’t go after Dante, and he wouldn’t kill McKenna’s family.
When I stop shocking him, he’s out again. This time I smack him on the knee hard with the metal bedpan. He comes to, screaming again. I move to his feet and take his shoes off. Using the scalpel, I slice the soles of his feet as I yell at him.
“Tell me the truth.”
He stops crying, and I look up his body.
“Revello gave me the information to kill the Rossis after I was hired by that Lupo bitch that got rid of you. Then Revello contacted me again after the Rossi heir was found alive. He hired me to kill Dante.” He takes a big breath and watches me. “Please, my daughter, let me go. I’m the closest thing to a father you’ve ever had,” he pleads with me, but I laugh and move to his head.
