darkdreamer

Okay, here's chapter 3 of my Being Human fic for

tamakin :) , What Friends Are For. Things take a turn for the decidedly darker here :-S but I think she'll like it ;) hehe... please let me know what you think :)

*Hugs*
DoS

Title: What Friends Are For
Beta:

spikes_evilbint
Characters: Mitchell-centric, George, Annie (no pairing)
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, abuse, non-con, torture, possibly others
Summary: Mitchell isn't rescued from Herrick and the other vampires quite so quickly as in canon. By the time his friends find him, he's in very bad shape and desperate need of care and comfort.

Chapter 3
Too Much

One by one, over the next several hours, Herrick’s top men made their way into the tiny cell where Mitchell was being kept. It soon became obvious that Seth’s bitterness and resentment toward him was a fair indication of how most of the vampires felt. He’d distanced himself from them for so long, tried to be so much better than them, only to join the movement at the last minute. When word got out that he’d decided to back out again, and was no longer under Herrick’s protection, many of them found that to be simply too enticing a prospect to pass up.

The first two took out their frustrations in much the same way as Seth had done, hurling kicks and blows in his direction while ranting about how foolish and pathetic he was, how stupid he’d been to pass up such a tremendous opportunity, and how he’d never deserved that opportunity in the first place. Before they left, they tore into his throat, draining him of his blood as an added indignity.

By the time the second one left, Mitchell’s head was spinning as he struggled to cling to consciousness, dizzied and disoriented from blood loss and the numerous blows he’d taken to the head – among other places. He fought to pull himself back up into a seated position, his weakened arms giving out beneath him a couple of times before he managed to lean back against the wall, gasping for breath.

His heart sank, his stomach clenched with fear when he heard the door crash against the wall yet again, and another vampire sauntered into the room. Mitchell closed his eyes, trying to steel himself for yet another round of abuse, though by this point, he was starting to wonder how much more he could take.

Several long moments passed in total silence and Mitchell finally opened his eyes, blinking against the darkness as he focused on the face of his most recent visitor. It was unnerving, the way this stranger was staring down at him through narrowed, speculative eyes, a thoughtful half-smile on his lips.

“Well?” Mitchell winced at the hoarse sound of his own voice, which served to pretty much negate the tone of defiance he’d been going for. “Aren’t you going to take your turn? Why don’t you get a move on and get it over with?”

The stranger’s smile widened with amusement as he crouched in front of Mitchell, just out of his reach – as if I could do anything if I tried, anyway! – studying him with an intensity that Mitchell found deeply unsettling. When he spoke, his voice was soft and deceptively friendly.

“Oh, I’m going to. But I’m not going to waste this rare opportunity on a half-conscious corpse, Mitchell. I’m going to wait until you’re aware enough to… fully appreciate what I’m going to do to you.”

Something in the other vampire’s tone sent a sick shiver of apprehension down Mitchell’s spine, and he instinctively drew back against the wall behind him, warily watching the other vampire for any sign that he was about to strike. He froze, tensing in preparation as the vampire extended his fangs, his eyes going black – but all he did was tear a deep, jagged cut across his own wrist. Mitchell’s eyes widened in confusion and surprise when that wrist was then extended to him in a dubious offering.

“Go ahead,” the vampire urged him with an encouraging nod. “Drink up. It’ll help you regain your strength.” He paused, his tone lowering, his smile becoming nasty. “You’re going to need it.”

The ominous undercurrent of his words was enough to make Mitchell want to refuse the offered blood – but instinct was crying out within him, overwhelming logic and good sense, screaming at him that nothing, nothing was more important than his desperate thirst for blood.

“Go on…” The stranger’s voice was low and enticing, and Mitchell found that he could hardly distinguish between it and the voice in his head that was echoing the same tempting words. “Drink.”

Before he could think to stop himself, Mitchell had latched onto the other vampire’s arm, fangs digging in deep and drawing in long, desperate draughts of blood. The other vampire let out a soft moan of mingled pleasure and pain, breathing hard as Mitchell drank in the strength and rejuvenation his battered, weakened body craved.

With a greater effort than either of them had anticipated would be necessary, the other vampire finally wrenched his bloodied arm free, laughing a bit giddily as he tore a piece of his own shirt free and wrapped it hurriedly around the wound.

“Guess you had a bit more fight left in you than I thought,” he mused, a grim smile of satisfaction on his face. He looked down to meet Mitchell’s eyes and Mitchell froze, suddenly terrified by the expression he read there. “That’s going to make things… a lot more interesting.”

The vampire stood up straight, taking in Mitchell’s bound, kneeling form, as if trying to decide how best to approach – whatever it was he intended to do. Mitchell was fairly certain he didn’t want to know.

Not that he had a choice.

But somehow, he hadn’t imagined what this vampire actually had in mind. When his attacker suddenly grabbed his legs and flipped him over so that he was lying facedown on the mat beneath him, Mitchell’s stomach did an awful flip, as he suddenly realized what was about to happen. He struggled violently, though it was a losing battle with his hands chained to the wall.

Panic seized him when he felt hands deftly working the button and zipper at the front of his jeans, jerking them over his hips and down until they were around his ankles.

“No!” he cried out in furious outrage and fear, desperately trying to pull free as the other vampire wrapped his jeans around his ankles, effectively immobilizing him. “No, don’t!”

“Shhh…”

Mitchell shuddered as he felt slow, leisurely hands trailing their way over his bare thighs, struggling uselessly to escape the invasive touch. The other vampire rose up over him, speaking softly into his ear, without letting up his casually suggestive and utterly unwelcome caresses.

“I knew you were a pretty one,” he murmured. “But I had no idea just how much… just how much fun this is going to be. I’m really going to enjoy this…”

TBC...