Welcome to hell

**Damon**
The interior of the house was worse than the exterior. It was covered in dust and black soot, the wooden boards on the floor were cracking and rotting under our feet, and the place had seemed to be missing any, if not all of the furniture, save for a single black couch- something which, because of the state it was in, did not fit into the old house. I wondered if it was Lucien's, and then again wondered how on Earth he lived in such a place at all. It was a place barely inhabitable and, judging from Jasmine's facial expression, a place more consumed by death and broken memories than anything else.
Once we'd made it past the small lounge area, Macy and Nancy led us into another smaller room, one which I assumed to be the kitchen as it was bordered by singed counters and to the back of it had an old, broken down stove. In the centre of the room stood a large, ceramic dish filled to the brim with water. Next to it, on either side, stood two steel chairs and behind the one on the left was Oliver and a man I did not recognize. He handed Oliver a few syringes and then seemed to begin explaining how to use them in a hushed voice.
Jasmine uttered no sound, she even refused a hand I held out to her, wanting to lose herself in the horror of this house as tears fell down her face and she gulped at the lump in her throat. I wanted to say something, to tell her that she was okay, and safe and that she didn't have to think about all of this. But I couldn't, because the truth was that she was at no point okay, safe and she most definitely could not stop herself from thinking of her now-dead family. I was sure that for her, every single step was hellish torture as those dead memories resurfaced and the guilt along with it. This was my round of the game, but it didn't quite feel like it, at least not until Macy and Nancy made us take the seats at the ceramic dish. It was then that Jasmine's eyes flashed to mine and for a second, I saw her own fear flash across it, swimming in her blue eyes. I reached out to her and took her hand in mine before bringing it up to my lips and kissing at the blood-stained knuckles.
"Remember what I said in the van. We're almost there." I uttered.
She nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. I didn't blame her though; I had my own doubts as well and wondered if we'd be too broken after this to even think of having a normal life... or if we'd be alive to enjoy it. My doubts were only further fortified as Oliver approached us with the syringes and smirked at me.
"What the hell do you get out of this?" I uttered out.
"I get to see you suffer. That's enough for me. You and your father have always thought that you were better than us, the other Michaelses. It's drifted the family apart and made us turn on each other, all because you think you're entitled to the position of Alpha, all because you think that you're strong. I want to see you at your weakest so I can have the image branded into my brain, that will be revenge enough for you and your father taking everything from my own father and myself."
I furrowed my brows and mumbled out a response. "We took something from you? If you mean the title of Alpha, then I think you have it really twisted. You know for a fact that my father deserved the title out of the five of the children. Now I'm not going to pretend that I liked the man because I didn't, it's even debatable whether I loved him at all, but I have to admit that he was a damn good Alpha. Your father and the rest of the siblings have squandered the Michaels wealth. They've taken for granted everything our family stood for. So no, Oliver, I never took anything from you, and neither has my father. The only one person I could say I've stolen from would be my brother, and you know that. So, carry on acting like an insignificant little twit, it only proves to me that you never deserved to be an Alpha. All of you have this attitude, you're all spoiled and childish and hell bent on revenge. That's what this family has now become, a bunch of miserable people out on a vendetta. It's sad and disgusting and eventually, I will change it all."
Oliver chuckled for a moment before saying, "You, my cousin will never live to see the day where you're an Alpha again. So, save the speech. Now-" He then shifted his focus to the syringe in his hand, "-It's time for the fun to begin. Macy, will you get their feet into the water?"
She nodded before she neared us and kicked my shoes from underneath before instructing me to place my feet into the water of the ceramic dish. The water was cool against my skin and I sighed at the slight relief I got from it. Macy did the same to Jasmine and soon her feet were also placed in the water. And it was then that I grew quite confused and asked, "I thought this was my round?"
Nancy nodded at me and began putting on some white latex gloves. "It is your round, yes, but just like you were a part of Jasmine's, Jasmine is going to be a part of yours. Now be patient, we'll explain as we go."
Compared to Macy, Nancy seemed a little bit more pleasant to deal with despite her previous act of kidnapping me earlier.
She then moved behind Jasmine who now began staring at the room and the blankness of it. Oliver handed her a syringe with a clear liquid in it and she began tapping at it for a moment before glancing down at us, ready to explain.
"The next game is going to be quite... nightmarish, if I do say so myself. In this syringe is a liquid called 'Painful Nostalgia' Type 2. Damon will be injected with 'Painful Nostalgia' Type 1-" she pointed to Oliver, well, more specifically to the pale blue liquid in his syringe, "-it will be injected into the spine and force you into a dreamlike state. But unfortunately for you, the scientists who conjured the chemical up have done such an excellent job that they assure us that it will feel all too real and that you will hardly realise you're asleep. To make matters more... interesting, the dreamlike state you will be in will be based on a specific memory of yours, one which will replay out in front of you. You will be able to manipulate the dream, see, taste, touch and experience real emotions. Like I said, you'll hardly know that it is a dream. The catch, however, is your ability to complete the dream. If you try to wake yourself up before the dream ends its completion, the fluid injected into your spine will become toxic and it will render you paralysed. Now, on to Type 2. Type 2 will also allow you to enter a dreamlike state, but unlike Type 1, you will not be able to experience the different senses in the dream. In fact, you will hardly exist at all. Instead, you will be a watcher, watching the actions through the eyes of Damon. To ensure that you enter Damon's mind to witness his dreamlike state, we have placed both of you in water as a sort of conducting agent which reacts with the fluid in this syringe. Now although you won't be able to have as realistic an experience as Damon, it will still feel as though you're there too."
The amount of thought that was put into all of this and the intricacy of each stage of Lucien's games was mind-blowing. In a way, I felt important. how could I not when Lucien practically designed this entire game based on the deepest, darkest most vulnerable parts of Jasmine's past and mine. I wonder what part he chose to use this time.
"What memory will I be experiencing?" I asked Nancy.
Macy decided to answer though and said, "Well that's for us to know and for you to find out."
*Great, more surprises.*
Oliver began placing gloves on his hands as well and neared me. I swore, when this was all over, I was literally going to tear him limb from limb. He opened up an individually wrapped alcohol swab and grazed it against the skin at the back of my neck. Nancy did the same to Jasmine who still did not look as though her mind was here and she stared out into the water of the ceramic dish. It was quite frightening to see her so... lost, like a little puppy, unsure of herself. It was as though I were seeing a whole new side of Jasmine, one which was scared and small and weak. Had Lucien seen her like this? If he did, then I understood why he'd never want to let her go. She was so fragile and so broken I feared that she'd break apart completely right here and right now, and for a second, just a second, I forgot that she was not someone in need of my protection no matter how broken she was. I forgot that she walked around like this all the time, using a facade of strength to cover this deep fragility of hers up. Perhaps Lucien had forgotten too.
I kept my eyes on her, even when I felt the stinging sensation of the needle through the skin of the back my neck, wanting her to be the last thing I saw before I drifted off somewhere else, before I experienced my own kind of hell like she was experiencing right now.
Slowly the darkness began to engulf my vision, swallowing the image of Jasmine whole until I saw nothing but darkness, and felt nothing but the void of it as well.
*Welcome to hell.*
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Stay safe! Stay healthy! Sending all my love!