Deaths Garden

CHAPTER 13 (CONTINUED)

As days turned into weeks, Pierre found himself trapped in a nightmarish existence, held captive by the infected in a white room that reeked of death and decay. Barely kept alive, he was little more than a prisoner, subjected to constant torment and suffering at the hands of his captors. With each passing day, Pierre felt his hope slipping away, replaced by a deep sense of despair and resignation. He spent long hours sitting in a corner of the room, his mind drifting in and out of consciousness as he struggled to make sense of his bleak reality. The monotony of his captivity weighed heavily on Pierre, his thoughts consumed by memories of a life that now seemed like a distant dream. He longed for escape, for freedom from the suffocating darkness that surrounded him on all sides.

Pierre's eyes fluttered open as the figure in the lab coat entered the room, his gaze flickering with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. He struggled to lift his head, his body weak and battered from weeks of captivity and experimentation. The figure approached Pierre, flanked by two others who bore an unsettling resemblance to normal humans, their expressions eerily devoid of emotion.

"You seem to have questions wondering in that head of yours," the figure in the lab coat remarked, his voice clinical and detached. With a flick of his hand, he activated a device that emitted a faint hum, its light casting an ominous glow on Pierre's forehead. Pierre tensed, his muscles tensing involuntarily as he braced himself for whatever was to come. But to his surprise, he felt no pain—only a strange sensation washing over him, as if his very essence were being probed and examined.

"Well, the answer is," the doctor continued, his words hanging in the air with a weighty significance. Pierre held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for the revelation.

"The treatment is working."

Pierre's voice croaked out, his throat dry and raw from weeks of captivity and neglect. "Treatment?" he managed to rasp, his words barely audible above a whisper. The scientist doctor regarded him with a cold, clinical gaze, his expression tinged with annoyance at Pierre's feeble attempt to communicate. "Yes, the treatment," he replied curtly, his voice devoid of sympathy or compassion. "We've been using your blood to make us refreshed, but yet still infected."

Pierre's heart sank at the doctor's words, a sense of dread creeping over him as he realized the full extent of his situation. His blood, his very essence, had been used as a tool for the infected to sustain themselves, to maintain their twisted existence at his expense. A wave of nausea washed over Pierre as he struggled to comprehend the horror of what had been done to him. He felt violated, betrayed, as if his very humanity had been stripped away and used against him But even in the face of such despair, a flicker of defiance burned within Pierre's heart. He refused to be reduced to nothing more than a pawn in the infected's twisted game, a mere source of sustenance to be drained dry and discarded.

With a steely resolve, Pierre vowed to find a way to escape his captors, to break free from the chains that bound him and reclaim his life from the clutches of the infected. No matter the cost, no matter the odds, he would fight until his last breath to regain his freedom and bring an end to the nightmare that had consumed him.

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SARAHS POV

Sarah's heart raced as she turned to the familiar roar, her eyes widening in alarm as she spotted Kraken in distress. Panic surged through her veins as she scanned the area, but Pierre was nowhere to be seen. Rushing to Kraken's side, Sarah watched in horror as the Thantor cat lunged at the large beast, pinning him to the ground with a ferocious hiss. Fear clenched at Sarah's chest as she realized the danger they were in, but she refused to let her fear paralyze her.

"Stop!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the deserted ruins. "Leave him alone!" But the Thantor cat paid her no heed, its eyes blazing with primal fury as it continued to snarl and snap at Kraken. Sarah's heart pounded in her chest as she searched desperately for a way to intervene, her mind racing with fear and adrenaline.

With a surge of determination, Sarah stepped forward, her hands trembling with the effort to remain calm. She knew that she had to act fast if she wanted to save Kraken from the Thantor cat's wrath. Summoning all of her courage, Sarah lunged forward, placing herself between Kraken and the Thantor cat. "Stop!" she repeated, her voice trembling with emotion. "Leave him alone. He's not your enemy."

For a moment, the Thantor cat hesitated, its eyes flickering with uncertainty. And then, with a low growl, it released Kraken from its grip, backing away slowly as if sensing Sarah's resolve. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah reached out a hand to comfort Kraken, her heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the encounter.

 "What Are you Doing here kraken?" Sarah Would Ask the Beast. "Its Pierre. He Was Taken By the infected" The Maine Coone would spill out. As Sarah knelt beside Kraken, her eyes filled with concern, she listened intently to the Maine Cone's words. Her heart sank at the news of Pierre's abduction by the infected, a wave of shock and worry washing over her.

"Pierre..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him in the clutches of the infected filled her with dread, her mind racing with images of him trapped and alone in the darkness. "And he called me a damsel in distress," Sarah muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. Despite her efforts to prove herself as a capable survivor, Pierre's words had cut deep, stirring up feelings of frustration and hurt.

But even as she grappled with her own emotions, Sarah knew that there was no time to dwell on hurt feelings or self-doubt. Pierre was in danger, and she was determined to do whatever it took to find him and bring him back to safety. With a determined glint in her eyes, Sarah turned to Kraken, her voice firm and resolute. "We have to find him," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "No matter what it takes, we'll bring him back." And with that, she rose to her feet, ready to embark on the perilous journey to rescue Pierre from the clutches of the infected.

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PIERRE'S POV

Pierre lay on the cold, sterile table, his body feeling drained and weak from the constant experimentation and blood draining. The dull ache in his veins seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart, a constant reminder of the torment he endured at the hands of the infected.  As the scientists and doctors continued their tests, extracting samples of his blood with clinical efficiency, Pierre felt himself slipping further into a state of numbness and despair. He knew that he was nothing more than a mere specimen to them, a means to an end in their twisted quest for power and control.

But just as Pierre resigned himself to his fate, an alarm suddenly pierced the air, shattering the tense atmosphere of the laboratory. "Intruder," the alarm blared, its shrill tone echoing off the sterile walls. Instantly, chaos erupted as the scientists and guards scrambled to respond to the threat, their focus shifting from their captive test subject to the imminent danger that now loomed over them. In their haste to address the intrusion, they abandoned Pierre without a second thought, leaving him alone and forgotten on the cold, metal table.

As the room emptied out and the red emergency lights flickered overhead, Pierre's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and hope. Could it be possible? Could help have finally arrived in the form of an unexpected intruder? And then, in a blaze of sudden motion, the door to the laboratory burst open, revealing Sarah standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the scene unfolding before her.

For a moment, Pierre could only stare at her, his heart swelling with a flood of emotions at the sight of her. Despite everything he had endured, seeing her there, standing before him, filled him with a sense of renewed hope and determination.

"S-Sarah?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible above the chaos of the alarm.