2 comments/ 14618 views/ 28 favorites The Afflicted Ch. 10 By: ShyChiWriter Hey all. There is a ton of plot in this one, and very little sex. Fair warning. Votes and comments are always appreciated. Also, please do add the story or me to your favorites list if you are so inclined. Also, do check out my other stories here on Literotica. Thanks, as always, for reading. * * * * Galen had been rushed off to meet a perplexing young woman; they had no other information. Meanwhile, in the council room, Brana, Palo, and Frederique sat across from Abby, Aimée, and Claude. Claude was shackled to the table; each of the girls wore a golden collar. "Please let us go and get him," pleaded Aimée. "Take off these damned restraints and let us just go to him. We promise we'll come back!" "We have no authority to do so," said Frederique. "Before we do anything, you need to explain what the hell you were thinking." "We weren't," said Abby. The gorgeous blind empath was struggling in more ways than one. She had always been one of the most responsible of the young afflicted due to her gift. One couldn't be an empath and not feel a sense of responsibility for everyone around. To act in such an irresponsible fashion was truly out of character for her. Beyond her guilt, she was experiencing a myriad of other emotions: Fear for her beloved brother; Angst that Galen seemed determined not to allow her to mate with Claude; and beyond that she was horribly disoriented. They still had the dampening collar around her neck and she was more blind than she had been in years. Her blindness went beyond simply being able to see through the eyes of others. Abby extended all of her senses through those around her. She even sensed the emotions of others. For her, a world that had been richer than most would ever experience had been suddenly shrunk down to practically nothing. Added on to this, the dampener was giving her a horrible headache and her stomach was turning worse every minute. It was even more frustrating because she desperately wished she could truly see Frederique and Palo. Both she and Jacob had known for quite some time who Claude and Aimée's famous mother was, and had heard many stories of their father. Abby had badly wished to see them in person through others' eyes, and to feel them through her remarkable abilities. Now, in her first meeting, she had disappointed them deeply and she was hampered by the horrible dampening devices the Council guards had placed her in. "I am so ashamed, Frederique," wept Abby, "And now I've called you Frederique. Should it be Mrs. Dujobe? Your highness? I don't even know what to call you!" She wept uncontrollably and Frederique's heart couldn't help but go out to the young girl. From weeping, Abby began to choke and she soon had to turn her head and vomit into a bucket which had been placed near them. "Why is she so sick?" asked Aimée. "I'm beginning to feel the same. Why? "It's the dampeners," explained Brana. "They confuse the Affliction in a way, so you can't use your gifts. But they also greatly upset the body." Claude pulled angrily at his restraints. "We have to get him," he insisted. "And Abby and Aimée are the only ones who can. With their ability, they can go straight to him. They can find him. "What does it matter!" said Aimée in a defeated tone. "Even if we retrieve him, we'll be returning here to a life without each other. You heard what Galen said." "You heard incorrectly," said Palo. It was the first he had spoken since the arrest. In his eyes shone the intelligence of one raised among the scholars of Africa. His father and grandfather had been princes, but among his ancestors he could also count poets and scientists of great renown. As strong-willed and intractable as Palo could be - his intelligence was deceptively one of his greatest traits - the very thing which had attracted Frederique to him in the beginning. "I have studied the laws of the council," he began softly. "They are surprisingly wise and just. You did not hear through to the truth of what Galen was saying. The council values many things, not the least of which is Galen's counsel. He came here to America to test and evaluate the four of you. What you must understand is there is every chance he may well have found that Aimée and Jacob are a perfect match, or for that matter that Claude and Aimée are well-suited for each other." "Palo, is this my same husband talking?" asked Frederique in surprise. "It is, my dear," said Palo. "I have thought for a long time about our kind. The implications of endless life are something I am just beginning to understand. How morality is shaded by the possibility of centuries is a complicated thing to consider. The damned hunger of this Affliction is also unique. It would certainly take me some time to get used to the idea of Claude and Aimée being bloodmates, but when I ponder the idea of seeing them still together in one-hundred or two-hundred years, it sheds a different light." Palo continued. "No, what these youngsters must understand is the council also places immense value on loyalty and obedience. They are generally lenient when it comes to governing our behavior, but when someone in authority gives orders they expect them to be obeyed. That is what has Galen so upset. Regardless of what he might find, the council could well overrule him because of your little escapades." "We are so stupid," said Aimée to herself. "So very, very stupid." "No my daughter," said Palo, "just young." "The sun!" cried Abby suddenly. "Just now, a hint of a thought came through. They are threatening Jacob with the sun!" Frederique crossed to the iron door and knocked twice. The guard peeked in. "Fetch me Scaurus," she said softly. "Tell him to bring a team and kits of day gear as well." "Yes Frederique," said the guard in a reverent tone. * * * * Galen looked through the one way mirror at the lovely blond girl in the holding room. Two night foxes were scampering up and down her arms and nuzzling her affectionately. She was giggling joyfully at each of their playful licks. "She must be Afflicted," said Galen to Meurnat, the spy who had brought her in. "No, she's not," said Meurnat. "She walks easily in the sun and she failed the blood test that determines if someone is Afflicted - the very same blood test you invented, Galen. Galen pondered the girl with amazement and said nothing for some time. "Well," said Meurnat, "what is your explanation." "What this means is she is not a threat," said Galen. "On the home Island, the Night Foxes nipped the first-bitten when they arrived in the caves, not to harm them, but to infect them. To them, any creature who does not carry the Affliction is an enemy. Once the symbiote is in the bloodstream, a Night Fox will regard you as a friend. However, they do sometimes make exceptions. Dolphins, for example. Though they are mammals, Night Foxes haven't the slightest animosity toward them. I once visited a grotto in Capri with some Night Foxes and they played to dawn's first rays with a school of dolphins." "I don't understand the comparison," said Meurnat. "Are you saying she's a mermaid?" "I don't know what she is," said Galen with a smile. "But whatever she is, this girl is simply not a threat. The Night Foxes see her only as a friend and see no need to infect her. So, it is time to discover more about this lovely enigma." He crossed to the door and gently pushed it open. The two Night Foxes bristled at first, but upon recognizing him they scampered to his side. These two foxes were two old friends, each of them hundreds of years old. "Hello, my lovelies," whispered Galen. "It is so good to see you, again. Would you mind if I paid a private visit to our new acquaintance here?" The white, fluffy, creatures looked to him with intelligent eyes. They then glanced back at Glennis with a hint of regret, but scurried out to their keeper. "Hello, Glennis," said the doctor. "My name is Galen." "It is wonderful to meet you, Galen," said the girl. "Just so you know, I don't know if that is my true name. It is what I am called by many, however, so I make do with that." Galen nodded and sat beside the girl. The two of them remained in silence for some time. With the practiced manner of a doctor who had cared for thousands upon thousands of patients, Galen somehow knew instinctively how to best deal with this unusual young woman. He felt a strange sense of peace wash over him as her gaze lingered on his features. He had found a new sense of purpose when he learned of the return of Frederique and her children. Colette had brought a new vitality to his life. However, the peace he felt with this girl at his side...he had not felt so at rest since the two decades he had spent in Medieval Japan living with monks. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but it was a soothing, peaceful sensation. "But you are so old," said Glennis. "Your face does not speak the truth of your eyes. Your eyes have seen so very many days. How must it feel? Tell me." Galen turned to the girl with a few tears brimming in his eyes. "It is very tiring, my dear," he said. "Especially lately. Recently, I have been quite weary." The young woman put a tender hand on his arm. "But you shouldn't be. You should be happy to have seen so much." "With you here, I understand that better," said the old doctor. "But as for you? Where do you come from?" "I remember a boat," said the young woman. "It was long and there were oarsmen. The people were much like me, light hair and blue eyes...and then there was a storm. I can't remember much after that, except landing alone here in New York. I was young, just a small girl. I've gotten by somehow." "Yes, so you have." "But I've never seen the likes of you," said Glennis. "In all this time I've never seen people like yours. You have terrible hungers - frightening, really. This hunger for each other - I have seen this sort of hunger in the eyes of the men who have been at sea, and of their wives waiting for them on the docks. This fierce yearning of the body; I have seen that sort of hunger now and again. But with your kind, that frightening ache for each other is there every day." "Yes, it is," agreed Galen. "We have a great need to touch each other, in every way. Tell me Glennis, have you felt such hunger for others?" "Not much," said the girl, frankly. "I sometimes wish to hold someone, but when it comes to mating with someone - that urge has never been very strong, at least not until recently. The past few months, I've begun to feel that it might be time to try it - this mating that others do. I grow more curious each day." * * * * The whip lashed out and cut a vicious gash into Jacob's back. He cried out briefly, then willed himself to ignore the pain and began laughing. "Excellent," Jacob said. "Your man is improving. That one was definitely deeper than the last. That one will take at least ten minutes to heal." Arnet sat beside the table where Jacob was strapped and watched with an inscrutable expression. Jacob couldn't tell if his defiance was annoying the rat-like man, or titillating him in some way. All that Arnet did was watch, with no emotion passing his face as the torturer kept whipping for the next ten minutes. Jacob was secured to the table by three metal bands - one across his shoulders, one across his waist, and one at his calves. He was socked in tightly with the help of numerous locks. Jacob kept laughing when he could, and focused on the changing patterns on the walls when he couldn't. Arnet clearly knew the ways of the Afflicted, taking every precaution to assure a deplaceur couldn't find their way into the building. At last, Arnet called a halt and excused the torturers. However, he stopped a lovely woman assistant before she left and ordered her to stay still. Unquestioningly, she gazed at him adoringly while he cut a small incision on her shoulder. Placing a goblet below, he let a stream of her blood flow out until the glass was nearly full. Setting aside the goblet, he retrieved a bandage and cotton-ball to carefully patch her up. Next, he bent down to kiss her deeply. As he did, his hand reached down beneath her skirt to find its way into her knickers. She moaned as he continued kissing her, and seemed very near orgasm before he removed his hand and forced her to suck his fingers. "Your full reward will come later," he said, patting her cheek. "Thank you, master," she purred before she turned on her heel to leave. Arnet turned his attention to Jacob, grabbing a short section of surgical tubing and placing it into the goblet. He sat beside Jacob, whose face was near the edge. "Drink," he said, simply. "I wish for you to regain your strength." "Why, exactly?" asked Jacob. "I have my reasons. Please, do drink. God knows you must hunger for blood by now." Jacob was indeed starving, and had felt himself growing more and more aware of the curious scent of the blood of Arnet's assistants. It smelled very mortal, but there was still an odd tinge about it. He had no choice but to drink it hungrily and gave a sigh as his system recovered and the whip marks began healing more quickly. "We should talk?" said Arnet. "It is so infrequent that I get to have an intelligent conversation. You see, my followers, they are wonderfully devoted - but God's Strength makes them a bit boring conversationalists, especially around me. "What exactly is God's Strength anyway?" asked Jacob. "I love telling this part," said Arnet - showing the first smile Jacob had yet to see. "I especially love telling it because no one lives to pass it on. Arnet settled back in his chair and laid out his tale: "Now then, my young Afflicted named Jacob. I have a lovely tale to tell you. "Nearly a century ago, there was a great man. A powerful man, by the name of Tacito Fernandez." "The Weasel," whispered Jacob under his breath. For the first time, Jacob saw a flare of emotion within Arnet. The small man had to stop himself from striking Jacob - but he did stop, and checked himself. "I would advise you not to use that term again, young Jacob. Your death is coming, but it will be all the more painful and come that much more quickly if you blaspheme in such a way. Now, I will continue." "Tacito was building an empire. He was mere steps away from conquering the arrogant and pathetic Council who never truly understood how great his power was. If it weren't for the witch Frederique, this world would be a very different place." "Tacito's followers were tracked and hunted. They were quite nearly eradicated. I say nearly, because there was one woman, a remarkably resourceful and wise woman who was able to escape their clutches. She made her way to St. Petersburg and hungered greatly. She knew she must have a bloodmate, but the thought of taking any other than Tacito sickened her. Eventually, she absconded with a pathetic drooling bedlam idiot who was incapable of speech. She infected this poor soul and kept him chained there - laying with him when she needed to feed her Affliction. She did so, in order to carry on Tacito's line. Because, you see, she was with child... and that child was..." "You," said Jacob coldly. "Ah, my dramatic foreshadowing was well done. Indeed it was me. My mother educated me in all things about the Afflicted and kept me hidden away. The greatest thing she taught me was patience. If there had been any flaw in my father's plan it was just that. He could have waited but he grew greedy and met his downfall." "My mother taught me all she knew and waited until the day I awakened. Patience, you must remember that. When I did awaken, a less intelligent woman would have had me seek out another of our kind - but no, she knew that might reveal us. Instead, she took me to her bed and to her mate. What a wonderful surprise it was, too, when I put my teeth to her neck. You see, my gift was the same as my father's. She awoke from our mating was bound to me... enslaved to me." "Patience, remember that word, Jacob," said Arnet. "My mother fed my lust and we satisfied our thirst for blood whenever we needed. I joyfully discovered that my gift also included flying, which I got from her. It became rapidly clear that I would be able to fulfill my father's destiny." "Sadly, my mother's devotion proved to be her own downfall. When she saw what my gift was, she wished to start down the path of conquest as quickly as possible. I awoke one evening to find she had brought me an Afflicted woman and wished me to blood her so we could follow the same path. I knew that would lead to us being discovered very quickly. Galen had survived. Others had survived. With intellects built over centuries, there would certainly be alarms and tests which would detect any Afflicted person who was bound to one of Tacito's bloodline. I was forced to kill the woman...and my mother as well. She had become a liability." Arnet gave a cold smile at Jacob's reaction to his ruthlessness. "Patience, remember young man. I could take no risks. So, I bided my time. Following in my mother's footsteps, I 'adopted' several witless young women and blooded them so I might feed my hungers. Certainly, they weren't terribly imaginative lovers in bed - but what does the Affliction care when it comes to feeding incessant lust." "As I whiled away the years, I studied. I moved from St. Petersburg to Krakow, from Krakow to Vienna and so on. I haunted the libraries. Not only did I study science, I was also determined to learn all I could of the Afflicted. I found a surprising number of tomes in the libraries of the great monasteries. It was there that I also discovered some wonderful and delicious secrets about the early days of the Afflicted and how they and the church were intertwined more than the Pope or any of his predecessors would ever care to admit." "My greatest find, however, was an illuminated manuscript from the time of the Inquisition which revealed a wonderful tale - and here, dear Jacob, is where the tale gets truly interesting. You see, within that volume was a crude painting of a blazing sun and one who was Afflicted being exposed to its rays. Sketch after sketch showed a charred corpse at the end. But one, the final one, had two words written below it. Tardius Curantur. How is your Latin, young man?" "Not so good," said Jacob. "I know English, French, and German... but I've yet to get to Latin." "Pitiful," chastised Arnet. "If you had your Latin, so many of the European languages would fall right in. Just guess Tardius Curantur, what do you think?" "Umm, tardy means late, so something about late?" "Close. No, in this case, it means not late, but slow, or slowly. The phrase itself means, 'slowly cured'. I went on to read the most remarkable tale of how they had captured a small group of Afflicted and - after much trial and error - had been able to 'cure' an Afflicted man with gradual exposure to sunlight. This 'cured' man lost his gift, but he also lost his thirst for blood and the overwhelming need for copulation. What he gained, however, was the ability to walk about in the sunlight. He was 'normal' once again. He even began to age once more, and he healed more slowly." "The footnote to that tale was what happened the following winter. The place where the experiments took place was Finland. Of course, the 'cured' Afflicted man was kept in custody. However, in the depths of winter, the sun rarely shines. With the lack of the sun, the Afflicted man's Afflicted cells came back to life. They had simply become dormant, but with the darkness, they returned. On Christmas day, no less, he struck on his captors with a vengeance and left only one to tell the tale." The Afflicted Ch. 10 "So, I had my goal. It was time for me to become cured." "But why?" asked Jacob. "Why would you wish to be cured?" "What I needed more than anything was knowledge. I could not learn from Afflicted scholars and one can only learn so much by attending night lectures at Universities. So, I began a slow exposure to the sun. Ten seconds the first, day, fifteen the next. Such agony, you can't imagine. After months of this, I finally achieved my goal and for the first time in my life I took a walk beneath the shining sun. Could I fly beneath that sunlit sky? No, but I could pass among mortals and learn from them." "That is when my true studies began. I undertook mastering biology, anatomy, every science imaginable. I even studied briefly under the great Pasteur, who I understand will soon be in your ranks. My favorite discovery of all was the centrifuge. You have no idea how much can be learned from that amazingly simple device. The greatest thing I learned was this: The Affliction has two types of cells. One, is the actual Affliction, the other carries the gift itself." "I don't exactly understand," said Jacob. "Simply put, there are two types of cells; Afflicted Cells, and gift cells. What that means is I could take your blood, spin it, and extract the cells that give you that remarkable ability to turn yourself invisible, inject those cells into a normal human, and they would have the same talent. Of course, they might not know how to do it - but the potential would still be there for a few days. You see, I can certainly bite a mortal and bind them to me... but by biting them I also turn them into someone who is Afflicted at the same time. If I just use the gift cells, they are simply bound to me." "In my case, it is quite simple. One injection and the gift I inherited from my father causes a mortal to identify with me and follow me blindly. The only disadvantage is that the effect does not last forever without the Afflicted host cells to reinforce it. The dosage must be renewed within the week. I have discovered how to synthesize this, or more accurately, to grow these cells in a laboratory so that I can continue increasing my army without draining myself dry to do so. Of course, the Holy See is simply happy that I am making progress toward conquering the Afflicted, they don't wish to know about my methods of inspiring such loyalty in the black guard." "The Holy See?" said Jacob, curious. "What would the Vatican have to do with your plans?" "You must understand, Jacob. The one thing I did not have was resources. If I had any hopes of completing my father's mission, I knew I could never accomplish it on my own. What better resource to turn to than the Afflicted's greatest enemy. No one wishes to wipe out your kind more than the Catholic Church. " "That seems a bit counter-productive," argued Jacob. "Where's the logic in allowing them to destroy us? I thought you wanted conquest, not destruction." "Let me lay it out for you more plainly, Jacob," said Arnet. "A bit over a decade ago, I walked into the Vatican with an absurd amount of knowledge about the Afflicted. Of course, they didn't trust me, so I submitted to their test of sunlight, which I pass with flying colors. Once I had them in my confidence, I began to build my forces and my people follow me blindly and unquestioningly. I began to capture members of the Afflicted. The church gave me more resources, more money, more people. I now have a force numbering in the thousands ready to move in. There is only one thing the Vatican doesn't know. They don't know that I will soon retreat once again from sunlight. My gifts will return. My blood will reach full strength again and with my superior knowledge, I will be able to produce great quantities of both my Gift Cells, and my Afflicted Cells." To illustrate, Arnet held up a dart which was essentially a syringe with feathers attached. "In here, are my cultured gift cells," said Arnet. "I could shoot you with it right now and you would be bound to me, but only for a few days. What is lacking are my Afflicted Cells which would actually make you part of my brood. To date, I have not bound another member of your kind to me because they might be captured and trigger the alarm of the Council. Yet, once I retreat from the sun, I will create both types of cells. When the Black Guard goes on the attack against the Afflicted, they won't, in fact, be merely giving them God's Gift - as they call it. They will be making each and every member of the Afflicted my bloodmate - my slave. Each dart will have a mixture of both cells." "I can safely tell you that by the end of the year, the entire domain of Afflicted will belong to me. From there, I will have the resources to build enough serum to captivate the rest of the world with the serum. I shall own the night and the day. Every person in the world will do my bidding." "I don't foresee that happening," said Jacob. "They defeated your father, they'll defeat you. Frederique and her children will make sure of that." Jacob suddenly turned pale from shock. "What was that you said?" "Nothing," said Jacob through gritted teeth. "I had heard the rumors. The official story was that Frederique had perished, but there were countless whispers that she was merely in hiding. Now you tell me she has children as well? Oh, how wonderful it will be to see her, bound by her hands and feet as I make her children my slaves." "You won't touch them," growled Jacob. "Them?" said Arnet with a wicked smile. "Can I infer that you have lain with Frederique's daughter? Could it be you have feelings for such a girl? I can see by your reaction that you have. Ooh, I can imagine the whisperings in The Council: 'Frederique's daughter and a boy who can turn invisible? Imagine those two gifts combined.' Would they even let such a union occur? Now this is simply wonderful." Arnet was practically clapping his hands with glee. "Oh my dear boy," said the tiny man. "Little did I know you would bring such joyous news. I had thought to kill you this day - but I may save you a bit longer. What other information can I get from you?" "Nothing," spat Jacob. "Oh, you say that now. What will you say when you've felt the sun's rays for the first time on your skin?" Jacob's eyes couldn't help but flare in fear at Arnet's suggestion. Twice already, Arnet had opened a hole in the ceiling and threatened him. Mortals had their bogeymen and monsters to scare children, the Afflicted had the sun - and with good reason. From an early age, the fear of the sun was ingrained deeply into their consciousness. As Arnet had stated, it took him months to become ready for the sun. Full exposure to the sun for more than a few seconds was fatal to one of Jacob's kind. Arnet grinned and looked to the ceiling. "There's a reason this room is on the top floor of the building," said the son of the Weasel. "I could build prisms and mirrors - but the effect is diluted as the light travels. No, I prefer my victims to be as close to the source as they can. Jacob, please do tell me the names of Frederique's children." "No!" cried Jacob. He rued the day he had learned the truth of the matter. Abby had already known, and Aimée had let it slip one day. He had of course been bound to silence and he cursed himself for his slip, thereby endangering his dearest friend and his closest lover. "But you will!" cried Arnet. There was no dramatic build-up, no teasing this time. Arnet simply pulled a lever and a square of light was suddenly flashing across Jacob's barely-healed back. Jacob would have taken a cat-of-nine-tails... a cat-of-billion-tales over the agony he felt at that moment. Arnet watched in satisfied fascination as Jacob's skin began to boil beneath the surface. His Affliction was both dying and retreating. Ripple after ripple surged as his skin grew darker from the blood rushing to the skin as it might with a blister. Arnet was a practiced hand with the sun, and knew from the tone of Jacob's cries just when to shut the skylight. He waited until Jacob's sobs had subsided a bit, then moved his mouth close to Jacob's ear. "Their names, Jacob," he said in a sinister whisper. "Tell me their names." Jacob lifted his head as if to speak, then spat squarely into Arnet's eye. "You are resilient, if nothing else. Let's try this again." Arnet was just reaching for the handle when a sudden 'pop' could be heard in the room. "How remarkable," said Arnet. With surprising rapidity, the little man moved his hand over to another lever, and with a quick pull, a trap door opened into the floor and he disappeared. Jacob could just make out four figures from his peripheral vision. Two popped out of sight just as rapidly. "I've got the Obscuring mechanism!" said a man's voice with an English accent. "I'll start on the restraints," said a woman's voice. "Who's there?" called Jacob. "It's Bullet," said a woman's voice beside him. How are you tied in here?" "They weren't messing around," said Jacob. "There are locks underneath." "Damn," muttered Bullet. "Brolly, how're you with locks?" "Not as good as Seetha," he said. "Obscurers are off, but I don't know for how long. I'll go get her. If I can't get back, send Abby and Aimée to room 5." "Got it," said Bullet. There were two simultaneous pops. Brolly's was more of a click, but the sound of others arriving brought Jacob more comfort. "Situation?" roared the gruff voice of Scaurus. There was another pop of departure. "All quiet," said Bullet, "But the boy is locked in securely and the table is immovable. It also looks to be rigged with dynamite at the joint, so we wouldn't be wise to pry it. Brolly's gone to fetch Seetha, the lock picker. She'll be our best hope." "Damn," said Scaurus, "I was hoping this would be a quick in and out. I don't trust how quiet this is. Spartan formation, everyone, around the table." Pop, another arrival, more voices. Pop, this time it was Brolly with the lock picker he had spoken of. Jacob felt the comforting hand of a woman on his back and heard a soothing voice in his ear. "Don't worry, Jacob," said a voice in a lilting foreign accent. "My name is Seetha and I'll only need a minute or two to get you out." Pop, one final arrival. Turning his head one way and the other, Jacob could only see backs facing him, each of them holding up shields that formed a sort of wall around him. "Dynamite detached," said the voice belonging to Seetha. "I need a deplaceur to get it out of here." "I'm on it," said Brolly's voice. He popped out, and surprisingly, did not return immediately. "Obscuring is back on," murmured Bullet, looking at the walls. "Damn it," muttered Scaurus. "Seetha, how long?" "Two more minutes, at least. Damned good locks, these." "Brace yourselves everyone," said Scaurus. "Day gear stays in place. Cover the lad!" A dark piece of oil-cloth was thrown entirely over him, and just in time. The entire skylight was thrown. They squinted through their smoked goggles as their eyes became used to the light. Jacob felt a tender hand on his leg. He didn't need to see her to know who it was. "You're hurt," said Abby's voice in his head. "Not badly," he thought back. "Yes, badly," she admonished him. "I've never seen sun-scar before. Your body is almost in shock." "I'm fine, Abby." He could feel her reaching out, starting to heal him. "Don't waste your energy now," said Jacob. "Help them. You can fix me up later." They weren't able to converse any further, however, because the room was suddenly alight. The people gathered round Jacob braced themselves. There was obviously a speaking tube somewhere in the room, and Arnet's voice taunted them from above. "Do you like my locks, my long lost brethren?" he said gleefully. "They are of my own design, modified from the work of Christophe the clockmaker himself." Jacob heard a woman's voice curse quietly to his side. He instantly knew it was Frederique. "Gently, dear," said a man's voice, who he could only assume was Claude's father. "You might have rid yourself of the explosives, but you will soon pay dearly. Any wagers on how many will survive?" "I'll say, all of us make it through," said Scaurus, "Let's wager twenty dollars, I'll meet you at the West Docks tonight for payment." "What a fascinating accent," said Arnet. "The only other time I've heard one like it is when I happened across a fellow named Rutuba. He was quite the quarry. If he hadn't had such a weakness for wine, he might still be alive." "You'll die for that," murmured Scaurus. "One lock down," whispered Seetha. "Two more." "There's a score of people gathering outside the room," said Abby's voice in all of their heads. "They are... odd. They are focused on this Arnet in a curious way. They worship him." "I don't care about who they worship," said Scaurus. "What about their weapons? What are they carrying?" "Guns," said Abby. "Crossbows with darts filled with God's Strength, whatever that is." "Two down," said Seetha. "This last one shouldn't take too long." Jacob wanted desperately to reach out to tell Abby about Arnet, but she was too focused externally. "Ready," said Scaurus. "We'll need to spread around the room and present many targets." "No," said Abby. "Everyone, please, stay here, I can buy us a bit more time. They're coming!" Two doors burst open and a rush of Arnet's followers burst into the room with weapons drawn. Surprisingly though, they didn't fire. Instead, they stopped and lowered their weapons - staring fearfully at the table surrounded by the Afflicted." "What are you waiting for?" cried Arnet through the speaking tube. "Shoot! Destroy them! " "We're fearful of hitting you," said a large muscular man in the lead. "How would you hit me," called Arnet's now shrill voice through the speaking-tube. "We don't know how they captured you, but they did!" cried one of the women in the group. "Oh Master, they truly are pure evil that they could magic you into the place where that boy was." There was a silence as Arnet processed this. "Idiots," he cried. "Weak-minded idiots! I didn't think I'd have to do this by myself." "What's happening?" asked Scaurus. "It's Abby," whispered Palo who was standing near the front of the group. "The girl has clouded their minds." Abby herself was not speaking due to the intense concentration it took to place the full illusion into every mind of the enemy. "How is it coming, Seetha?" asked Frederique. "Nearly there," panted the desperate woman. "Now you will pay!" cried Arnet's voice. He rushed into the room with a huge gun which had at least fifty narrow barrels. His followers looked to him confused, having been certain he was being held hostage by the group around the torture table. Arnet pointed the gun toward the ceiling and pulled a trigger. Dozens of darts flew out of the device. They did not fly true, however, but went whizzing about in haphazard fashion. Many of them found the walls or ceiling for their target, but just as many went whizzing in curling paths toward the group. "Now!" cried Seetha at the exact same moment. The metal restraints broke free and the deplaceurs grabbed their charges. Just as the darts thunked into shields and cloaks, the entire group disappeared accompanied by the angry howl of Arnet. * * * * The receiving chamber was one of the most feared places in all of Below. The walls were lined with arrow-slots and the ceiling was lined with nets. If there were the slightest sign of compromise, the nets would be sprung - or worse. Beyond the walls of the chamber, countless weapons were drawn at the huge pop of fourteen people arriving where before there had been none. "Hold!" cried Scaurus. "Restrain me first, I've been hit!" A curious lasso descended from the ceiling and wrapped itself quickly around the Scaurus. "As have I!" cried Colette, who had been brought along on the mission because of her expertise in close combat as well as her medical skills. Another tether shot out to restrain her. "Enough," cried Frederique. "Everyone move away from each other. We will all be restrained until we can be evaluated. Everyone did as ordered and nets and ropes descended. Once they were all secure, Galen and a full complement of guards entered the chamber. "Tell us what happened," said Galen. Several people started speaking at once, but it was Jacob's voice that cut through the crowd. "Let me speak with him!" he called. "Let me explain and we'll be able to settle things more quickly. Galen and Jacob were taken to a far corner of the room and in muted tones Jacob explained all he had heard from Arnet. Galen retrieved one of the darts, which had stuck in a shield. "Ingenious," he said quietly. The dart was a small glass vial tipped with a needle like the one Jacob had been show. However, with this one, the fletchings were curved and there was one missing. It was a variation on an old archer's trick. Remove one or two of the feathers and one could shoot an arrow round corners. Arnet's needle gun had taken that concept to the extreme. The goal was for the darts to hit something, and if they flew haphazardly, they would prove impossible to block. Galen turned to examine the contents of the vial. His mind reached into the contents and evaluated it carefully. "By god, this is a brilliant man," muttered Galen. "To work on his own and decipher so many mysteries - it's a shame he wasn't with us." "Unloose me!" cried Scaurus. "I'm fine, and I have a great deal to attend to." "You'll do no such thing!" cried Galen. "No one is to be freed until I have the chance to examine them." Galen crossed to Scaurus and put a hand on the warrior's arm. Looking deeply, he breathed a frustrated sigh. "This will take a while," he said. "This serum the man has devised is fearfully deceptive. It's as though he knew of the tests I'd devised and worked on ways around them. It's going to take hours per person to truly tell." "It's not so hard for me," said Abby from where she was tied. "I can feel it. Scaurus is definitely infected..." "Muzzle the girl," shouted Scaurus. "How do you know she isn't the one infected? She was able to fool an entire room of mortals. Who is to say she's not doing the same here?" "Gag him," said Galen. Two guards reluctantly did as they were ordered, finding it very difficult to do such a thing to the most respected commander among all of the Afflicted. "Inspect me first," said Abby. "Have Madame Villepreux-Power sent for as well, between the two of you, you should be able to discover if I am tainted or not. If you find I am trustworthy, I can move things along much more quickly. Madame Villepreux-Power soon arrived and between herself and Galen, they were able to determine that there was no foreign impurity in the young empath's blood. Once she was cleared, Abby began reaching out and examining the other people. For Abby, it was both child's play, and a fascinating game of psychological chess. If someone had been hit, their primary thought was of Arnet. Yet, these were intelligent people and they knew she would be looking for that sort of thought. Those hit by the serum did their best to think of something else yet their thoughts kept returning to the small man. Like the old game of not thinking of a white tiger, those who were compromised kept returning to Arnet in their thoughts. After a few minutes, Abby called out: The Afflicted Ch. 10 "Scaurus, Colette, Palo, Seetha... and Bullet." Each of the individuals cursed vehemently as they were dragged off to more secure chambers. Abby was able to actually assist in linking Madame Villepreux-Power and Galen together so they could do a thorough examination of everyone else in practically no time, and less than an hour later the remainder of the raiding party was free and gathered in a large room to discuss the fate of their companions. "I am not terribly worried," explained Galen to those around. "From what Jacob has told me, I'm fairly certain the serum Arnet used was the variety he has developed for mortals. Like them, our friends will see the effects waning within the week. However, we should take no chances. They need to be locked in until we can be sure they are free of the effects." "Poor Bullet," said Brolly with a grin. "Why poor Bullet?" asked Frederique. "She's a jumper," he said. "The others can be left to their own devices in secure quarters. Her, she can't be left to roam free or she'll jump... and she can't be left with them or they'll try to break her restraints." "Very true," agreed Frederique. Aimée suddenly blushed and was grateful no one saw her. The implications of 'left to their own devices' became clear. Her father and Scaurus were to be locked in impregnable chambers for at least a week...together. Four Afflicted; two men, two women, and they all had irrepressible desires. She looked to her mother aghast, but Frederique seemed unphased by the repercussions. "Now," muttered Galen, evaluating Aimée, Abby, Jacob and Claude. "What the hell to do with you four." He gestured to several guards. "Separate them," he said. "Secure the deplaceur and be careful with the redhead." "But we saved Jacob," cried Aimée. "We could have easily left if we wished. I could have taken us anywhere in the world." "Calm down," muttered Frederique, who was suddenly at her side. "But..." "This is all a game," whispered her mother," and there is none better at playing it than Galen. Obey all of his orders and do not complain, and be patient." Abby had detected the conversation and had listened in. She quickly passed Frederique's counsel along to Jacob, and to Claude who was being detained in a room nearby. Frederique left Aimée to approach the group who had been hit by Arnet's darts who were now fully shackled. Scaurus and Seetha appeared to be fighting internal demons as the serum took stronger hold. Colette had actually taken two darts and was tearfully begging to be allowed to go to Arnet's side. Bullet, as always, was quiet and sullen. Palo seemed surprisingly calm. Frederique approached him and kissed him tenderly on the cheek - wishing she could have felt his arms around her once more before he was isolated. "How are you feeling, my love?" she asked. "I'm fine," said Palo. "In fact, I don't think the serum took hold at all." "Perhaps not," she said, "but we can't take any chances." "Still," he whispered. "I've been thinking, this Arnet is incredibly intelligent. I think we should reach out to him. He could be a good resource for the Afflicted. A good leader, even." "Perhaps," said Frederique patiently. A sudden recognition passed over Palo's face. "That's the serum talking, isn't it?" "I'm afraid so, dear. Galen and that other doctor, Jeanne she called herself. They will visit you periodically to assess you. Now Palo, we need to talk about your time away." She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him tenderly near his ear, and then talked softly so only he could hear. "A week is a long time for one of the Afflicted," she said lovingly. "Especially one such as yourself." "Yes, it is," he moaned. "Galen's Colette is quite the beauty and so well-rounded, and I don't mean her interests. You've always been drawn to buxom women, yes? Seetha is also an exotic beauty and I would guess is quite athletic." "Yes, she is attractive," admitted Palo. "But a week is not so long. I can wait." "Dearest," she purred. "You could not last two days on the Siren. Besides, we've had our adventures in the past. Our honeymoon. Tunisia. The Massri's?" "But we were together," argued Palo. "And we'll be together again. Palo, you have my permission," she said, her eyes full of love. "You have my permission to do anything. When we are together again in a week, you must tell me everything. Then we'll find a time to invite Colette and Seetha and Scaurus along, and you will show me everything. It's an adventure, my love. Enjoy it." Frederique left him and went to Colette who was muttering to herself. "I must reach him. I must find him..." "Colette," said Frederique with a look of pity in her eyes. "I know you'll have trouble making out what I'm saying but I want to let you know that I have given Palo full permission to take care of you in your isolation. I think you know what that means." Colette stopped rambling and looked up to Frederique surprised. "I couldn't. I love Arnet." "Yes you lovely girl, I know," said Frederique patiently. "All the same, Palo will be there and he is very skillful. It will take your mind off of things. Trust me. As for myself, I will take care of Galen. Goodbye, Colette." The five unfortunate casualties were taken off for what everyone prayed would only be a week of quarantine. * * * * A half hour later saw a special session gathered together to discuss Claude, Aimée, Jacob, and Abby. Experts of several varieties, as well as Galen, Brana, and Frederique were present. Galen, as expected, led the conversation. "What we are dealing with here, is resonance" he explained. "Just as a singer's voice can set a goblet or a bell to ringing, the more time each of these four spends with someone, the more their Afflicted cells 'ring'. All four are awakened and ready for the bloodmate ceremony and their emotional states are not helping. Times of stress make the Affliction even more ready for the comfort of a mate. If any of them spend even two or three nights with one partner, their mating instinct will be irrepressible. I still need time to evaluate who these young people should mate with and advise the Council. We can't have them jumping the gun, it almost happened once already. "So they should be kept entirely apart?" asked Brana. "They should not even be allowed to see each other," agreed Galen. "They are tuned to each other to a degree I have rarely seen. I am frankly surprised they haven't succumbed yet. It is likely because Abby has such a remarkable mind and Aimée has such a strong will that it hasn't happened yet. It is my advice that all four be kept separate until decisions are made" "I agree," chimed in Frederique. "As council representative, that is my advice as well." It had been a surprising move, but with Scaurus in quarantine due to Arnet's serum, the Council had made a spot decision to appoint Frederique as temporary head of security in the city. With her centuries of wisdom, her years working as a guard when she was younger, and her legendary skill as a fighter, she had been the logical choice. Especially since her presence was now known by the enemy, it seemed in order to let her presence be known more widely. Frederique continued. "How are we to control them? Again, the girls are the larger threat. We have countless protections against fliers like Claude. Jacob's invisibility appears compromised until he heals from his sun exposure. It is Aimée's deplacing ability that is a bit of a concern, particularly combined with Abby's talents. " "If I may," said a quiet man who had been staying shyly in the shadows. Frederique gasped. It was Franz, a man who had served as an apprentice and later a partner to her late husband, Christophe. He had huge, bottle-like glasses pushed up on his head - not to correct his sight, but because he was always working on some sort of tiny equipment. He still wore his leather gear from his workshop, scarred and scorched from countless experiments. She rushed to him and showered his face with kisses, which made him blush profusely. "It is so good to see you, great lady," he stammered. "I am no great lady," said Frederique softly. "I am a woman who finds myself in yet another time of trouble. I am deeply grateful to find you here because there are few who I could trust as much. Though he had stammered when addressing Frederique, when it was time to speak of the matters at hand, there was no hesitation in his manner. When it came to mechanisms and protection, Franz was all business. "I have been briefed on the matter," he said, "and I believe I may have a solution. It seems to me, that in the council's view, the primary threat is in the combination of the empath and the deplaceur and how they can team together to jump anywhere. The two of them together are what we fear the most. Am I correct?" He did not wait for an answer. "So, the first goal is to keep them separated, and the second is to keep them from jumping. As you all know, dampeners are a tricky thing. They essentially send out a curious vibration that serves to confuse the Afflicted cells in a host. While it suppresses the gift, it also can lead to nausea, sickness, and other adverse effects. We certainly don't want to keep dampeners on these young people for any length of time." "Agreed," said Galen. "Then with the deplaceur, I can create a device which stays dormant unless she jumps. On the first jump, it will turn on, and she will not be able to jump again. So, we keep them separated, and even if she jumps to the empath's side - they have nowhere to go." "That sounds satisfactory," said Frederique. "The empath is more of a problem," he said. "Just how powerful is she?" The room was silent until Brolly spoke. "She immobilized nearly two dozen people by creating a different reality in their heads," he said softly. "It was wondrous - but it was also frightening to consider what she could do if she were compromised." "Yes," said Franz, sadly. "I am very familiar with such a situation. When one of great power can be used for good or evil it is a blessing and a curse." He thought on the subject for a while, and everyone watched him quietly. "What I would propose is this," he finally offered. "Barbarians might simply dampen the empath and not worry about the effects until the Council makes a decision. We are not, however, barbarians. We are civilized. I can put up a shield around an area, say, a suite of rooms. I believe I can calibrate it so the empath would be unable to reach beyond that. She will have visitors, of course, but if we keep the quarters under strict guard, as soon as someone exits the area there would be an invisible curtain that would break her control once a person passed outside. That way, if she did attempt to control their minds for the wrong reasons, her sphere of control would still have little reach. I can also create a dampener that activates should she leave those quarters." "That sounds like a wonderful solution," said Frederique. "We can only hope the situation doesn't last too long." "Wonderful," said Galen. "Now, there is the issue of companions. As I have pointed out, they should not have sexual congress with any one person for more than one day. We also, however, can't insist on abstinence. If we deny them any sexual partners, The Affliction will view that as a threat and will go fully into mating frenzy." "So, regular sex with different partners," said Frederique wryly. "The poor dears, such a brutal sentence. Today is Sunday. We meet again in a week." "Yes," agreed Galen, "I will continue to study Arnet's serum, and the cells of our four promising young lovers. One week should be enough for me arrive at a conclusion. In a week, we travel to Iceland to stand before the Council." Orders were given and quarters prepared. Knowing that there were trying times to come, Abby linked the four companions and they exchanged words of love and encouragement. Their connection was short-lived, however, because guards soon arrived to place a dampener around Abby's neck. As the sympathetic guard approached her, Abby reached out one more time. "Goodbye my loves." Her voice seemed to be coming from within each of their bodies. "Love well and do not despair. I know we'll be together again soon - if not as lovers, as the brothers and sisters we are and always will be. Goodb..." But her last words were gone as the ring went around her neck. * * * * Votes and comments are always appreciated. Also, please do add the story or me to your favorites list if you are so inclined. Also, do check out my other stories here on Literotica. Thanks, as always, for reading.