Danger

SAM "Well, I'm looking for someone... and I need to save someone," Sam said. Vel quipped, "So two people?" Ares, now fully clothed, nodded. "You helped me; it's only right I help you." Vel turned to her. "So what do you want to do first, find one or save the other?" Sam pointedly ignored Vel, turning fully to face Ares. "I need to find a girl and her siblings." Ares paused. "A girl and her siblings?" He echoed. "Yeah, her name is err... Aria, I believe. I don't know the names of her siblings, but she has a twin sister and a younger brother." Ares stopped walking and glanced down at her with narrowed eyes. "Who are you to them?" Vel wouldn't be ignored. He spun and placed himself in her line of sight. "Yeah, you don't even know their names. Why do you want to find them?" "Can you find them or not?" Sam snapped. Ares didn't reply but kept narrowed eyes on her. Sam released a frustrated sigh. "I don't care about finding her; heck, I've never even met the girl. But her mate wants me to find her... he's the one we have to rescue." *** SINBAD The cell I was placed in was predictably stark white, from the small metal bed to the walls and even the floor, so plain it gave me a headache. What felt like a couple of hours later, I didn't see a bleeding Garsam get thrown into the cell, and I breathed a sigh of relief. He had escaped. The door of my cell rattled. I sat up, but no one walked in. It rattled again, but still, no one entered. I wondered what was going on. Was the woman back? I stood up and walked the short distance to the door. It had a small square glass so one could look in or out. I pressed my face against the glass and looked around, or at least tried to. I could see a little tuft of hair to the side, but that was it. Whoever was outside the door either didn't want me to see them or didn't want to be seen with me. I raised a finger and tapped on the door, loud enough for whoever it was to hear but not so loud that it would draw the attention of guards that I was sure were patrolling about. The tuft of hair moved, and a figure shuffled close enough that I could see a face, but before I could take in the features, the figure bent down, and I heard a rustling sound. Something light hit my foot, I looked down and picked up a neatly folded-up note. I looked through the glass in time to see the figure in a billowing lab coat rush down the hall. I walked back to the plain white bed and opened the note. The contents of the note had me turning black in the face. I groaned; whoever wrote the note must either be a doctor or in one heck of a hurry because the writing was beyond illegible. It's a shock the sender actually expected me to read and understand this. I folded the paper and stuffed it into my pocket. It was actually annoying because somehow I was sure the content of the letter could have helped me plan an escape. The door opened with a jolt. The pale woman from before walked in; she had two armed guards behind her. She stopped at the door, but the two guards continued in and flanked me on both sides. One grabbed me, and the other worked a handcuff on my hands. I hissed at the sharp, searing pain it caused, looking down, I was horrified to see the cuffs were made of silver. I looked up at the woman wide-eyed; she knew I was a wolf. "What do you plan to do to me?" I asked, unable to shake off the feeling of trepidation gathering in my gut. She didn't reply; instead, she turned around and walked out. One guard hit me with the butt of his gun. "Move, dog," he barked. Dog? I turned to glare at him and was rewarded with a hard strike to my face. Blood trickled from the cut on my cheek. "Oh, look," the other guard said, "the monster bleeds like us." "Of course, I do, nitwit!" I bent my head to reduce the brunt of the strike I was sure would come. Preparing for the pain didn't make it any less painful, and soon I was in no mood to be rebellious any longer. They took me to a plain white room. Several desks and monitors formed an arc, and in the center of the room was an iron table with shackles. I had a feeling I wouldn't like what would happen next. One guard pushed me to sit on the table, then removed my cuffs as the other worked to secure my legs and then hands to the table. The shackles were also made of silver and burned painfully. I groaned and turned to watch as about three people in white lab coats entered the room. Other than the pale pretty woman, there was another woman whose dark hair looked familiar. She walked toward one of the monitors with her head bent. I tried to take a closer look at her because for some reason, it felt like she was avoiding my eyes; did she leave the note? One man walked toward me, his look spelled trouble; he had a pink scar that ran from his bottom lip to his chin. I wouldn't say it disfigured him because he wasn't much to look at; sallow eyes stared at me with a hint of calculating madness. "Shall we start?" He said, his voice as unpleasant as his face. The pale pretty woman nodded slowly and took a seat behind a monitor. The dark-haired woman raised her head in warning. "Don't overdo it, Steven!" Scar face waved off her warning. "I would never endanger the specimen; you should know that, Doctor Andrews." Andrews? I looked at the woman, searching for a hint of resemblance. She met my gaze for half a second and turned away so I couldn't see her. "So, you say," I heard her mumble. I tried to speak, but a shock akin to a thousand fiery ants on my skin had me screaming. The mind-numbing pain lasted for a few seconds then stopped. In the haze of pain, I turned to the blurry figure close to me. Scar face stood beside a red button, his finger hung just above it. Someone in the room called, "Increasing intensity by two." Scar face slammed down on the button. The pain jolted me convulsively; it felt like my very cells were dancing with electricity. I gritted my teeth to stop the scream that so desperately wanted to be let out. And just like before, the pain abruptly stopped. "Increasing intensity by four." No. Horrified, I was starting to shake my head when another bout of electric pain struck me. As bitter bile rose in my throat, I got a strand of clarity. Something was seriously messed up with this metal table.