The Alpha's Breeder

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Forty Five : Knockout

WARNING: This chapter contains dark descriptions of torture and violence. Read underneath your covers, next to someone, or in the safety of a handsome man’s arms.




This room had the typical setup used for most higher up labs.

There was a computer monitor within hand’s reach to the right of my body. A monitoring device was set to the bottom of my feet. Next to it was 2 metal trays filled with different types of surgical instruments.

Further back against the wall was a set of cabinets with a sink attached.

Out of everything I saw, the only thing capable of hurting her quickly and effectively would be the scalpels. But the scalpels were on the metal trays and Candy happened to be standing right next to it.

This meant that I couldn’t grab them without having to deal with her first, which is rather improbable at the moment.

The odds are against me because I don’t have much leeway to work with. Although I was ready to beat the living crap out of her, my body was not up to it.

With my current condition, I couldn’t fight her head on or drag out the fight because I might faint halfway through.

And so, my only advantage was the element of surprise.

If I can catch her off guard and knock her unconscious before Scar comes back, I will have enough time to prepare for round 2.

The only thing I can rely on right now is being faster than her.

And I can only pray that this works.

With a deep inhalation of breath, I bit down hard on what was left of my tongue and glanced at her through the slits of my eyes.

Candy finished pulling the flaps of my stomach aside before finally turning her back to me.

She reached for something on the metal stand. Her body was semi-relaxed now that Scar wasn’t in the room and she mumbled about how lazy he was.

This was the opening I was waiting for.

Quickly, I pulled myself up and twisted my abused body around to swing my cold legs off of the metal table.

Pain flashed vividly through every nerve fiber, choking me up until the sickening urge to puke my guts out made me freeze for a whole second. Instead of focusing on it, I clenched my jaw and swallowed down the acid forcing its way up and grabbed the computer monitor with both of my hands.

Candy heard the clatter and made a move to turn her head, but she wasn’t quick enough.

Her delayed reaction was a millisecond too late.

I forcefully jerked the monitor up and dragged the cords behind me when I slammed it heavily into the side of her face.

She gave a short pained shout, raspy and high pitched, and fell forward into the metal stand. The entire room was filled with the sounds of the instruments falling off of the metal tray, clattering loudly as it hit the tiled floor.

Candy reached her gloved hand out for a pair of surgical scissors right by her head, but I kicked it out of the way with my foot, barely missing the sharp point when my toes grazed the edge.

Then, I stepped on her hand that was still reaching for the other instruments haphazardly strewn across the cold tiled floor.

“You fucking bitch! You’re not going to get out of here alive,” she seethed when I slammed the monitor against her face again and received an ugly choked scream in response.

“Neither are you.” I grinned gruesomely down at her. Blood dripped down my face in rivulets and I could only imagine how monstrous I must look right now.

At my words, her unusually confident face melted into anxiety and nervousness beneath her surgical mask.

Before she could open her mouth to scream for help, I muffled her voice with a bloody towel off of the metal stand and ignored her feeble protest.

Albeit I knew the walls were rather soundproof, I didn’t want to take the risk of giving Scar the chance to come back when I wasn’t prepared.

“The walls are soundproof, or did you forget, Candy?” I stated with a dark chuckle, panting for breath as I spoke.

Using all of my strength, I pressed the towel tightly to her face. She scratched uselessly at my arms, raking up bloody welts all along my wrist and forearm until my skin burned painfully.

But I didn’t care because my objective was so close to being knocked out.

Candy weakly struggled, her sharp nails scratched across my neck and chest, but I did not relent. I held the fabric onto her nose and mouth while repeatedly beating her face with the computer monitor.

“This is for trying to hurt my babies,” I told her in between each beating. “This is for being a bitch.”

“And this is for messing with my face.” The disgusting wet sounds along with the disturbing cracks of the hard plastic against her head made me want to throw up.

I have never done something this close to murder.

My heart was beating rapidly, palpitating at an exhilarating rate as I watched her uselessly struggle with a wondrous feeling of glee collecting in my chest.

I can see why people get high off of watching someone else struggle like this.

The feeling was rather ecstatic.

Candy choked pathetically, still scratching me until her hands trembled halfway and went limp.

I don’t know if it was my blood or her blood dripping down her face now. It collected in a puddle underneath her head, but she wasn’t dead because her chest was still rising and falling with every labored breath she took.

I’m sure that my beating wasn’t enough to kill a sicko like her, she didn’t deserve to die that easily.

From what I could tell, she might have a concussion or 2, but she won’t die.

An ugly frown blossomed on my face at the thought, and I turned my gaze to the metal trays where the sharp scalpels laid covered in my blood.

Shakily, I grabbed one of them and brought it to my eye level.

I wanted to kill her for what she did, but I’ve decided that I don’t want her to die just yet.

I want her to survive and then suffer through these injuries for the rest of her life.

Better yet, I want her to lose the ability to harm anyone else.

Grinning widely, I gripped the cold metal tightly in the palms of my hands, breathing heavily through the rush of adrenaline filled energy.

With no hesitation, I brought the blade down on her flesh, stabbing repeatedly into both of her elbows and wrists in order to completely destroy the nerves in her arms.

Blood sprayed everywhere, trickling down her arms and pooling underneath her body.

Doing this will ensure that she would never be able to use her hands again, would never be able to hurt another person the way she hurt me.

Once I finished massacring her arms, I wiped my bloody hands onto the front of her shirt, trying to get rid of the stain when I realized that I would need clothes in order to get out of here.

Damn it.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I pulled off her bloody surgical gown and noted that her regular scrubs did not look too stained with blood.

There was a little spotting, but it was fine.

I ended up taking her clothes and dressing in them.

Afterward, I grabbed a towel off of the operating table and put pressure against the open wounds on my face and stomach to stop the bleeding.

The skin burned like liquid-fire had been poured on it, but I clenched my teeth through it all and closed the flaps of open flesh. With a deep breath, I tied the towel tightly around my stomach in fear that my organs or my womb would fall out of the gaping hole they left in my lower abdomen.

At this point, my energy was starting to run low, probably from the shock and blood loss, but I didn’t have time to think about that.

Scar was probably going to come back from his cigarette break soon because it took me at least 10 minutes to beat up Candy.

And I know that my chances are too slim if I decide to run out of here.

Scar would come back to this mess, inform the higher-ups and the hunters would be after me in a heartbeat.

So that would be a big no from me.

The only way to ensure my escape is to take Scar down too, beat him up the way I did Candy.

With a small grunt, I picked up the computer monitor and pocketed the scalpel.

Since Candy wasn’t getting up anytime soon from her position on the ground, I didn’t bother to do anything else to her.

I dragged my battered body past Candy’s bloody form, turned the lights off, hid behind the door and waited for my next victim.

My heart was beating in my throat and blood was roaring in my ears, pounding like the start of a headache.

The wait was always terrible.

But, thankfully, I didn’t have to wait very long.

Not even 10 minutes later, the door handle started to turn.

I swallowed down a mouthful of saliva and metallic blood. My shaking hands tightened painfully around the computer monitor.

I pray to God that the person walking in is going to be Scar because if it isn’t, I would be pretty screwed.

“What the fuck, Candy? Did you leave already?” Scar said, much to my relief. His voice was laced thickly with annoyance.

Since my eyes have already adjusted to the darkness, I could see him fumble to find the light switch, his fingers sliding against the wall.

With one foot, I pushed the door closed.

He noticed and moved out of the way just before the door could close on him and stepped inside of the room.

Terrible move, because now he’s stuck inside of here...with me—a person he would not want to be stuck with.

“What the fu—?”

Before he could finish his sentence or flick the light on, I bashed his head in with the computer monitor.

There was a loud ‘thunk’ that resounded when Scar let out a screechy yelp and stumbled to the side, clutching his head with one hand.

He wasn’t as easy to bring down as Candy.

I could tell that he was losing focus from a concussion, but it wasn’t enough to knock him out.

“Who—?” he shouted as if that was even a good question at this point.

The computer monitor slammed into his jaw hard enough that I could hear a sickening crunch in the aftermath.

From what I have seen from wrestling fights, a hard punch to the jaw or under the chin can knock someone out.

I pray that it will or all that I’ve ever learned from watching TV is useless.

I kept smacking him in the jaw and face, ignoring his attempts to cover himself from my assault. When he tried to run, I tripped him and continued to beat him with the monitor.

Before long, he collapsed to the ground, completely knocked out cold.

From there, I used the same methods I used on Candy to destroy his hands until they both laid incapacitated on the ground.

The process didn’t take me but 10 minutes.

Once done, I searched through his pockets and found his blue surgical mask and a pair of car keys.

Breathing harshly, I dragged my tired body over to the sink, took a couple of paper towels and wet them before wiping off the blood on my face.

After that, I put the surgical mask on, opened the door and peeked my head out to look at the rather empty halls.

I knew that I couldn’t leave from the front entrance or the back entrance without having to pass the security guards. Without proper documentation and a fingerprint, they would catch me before I can do anything.

So the only other option that I could think of was their alarms.

The alarms set up inside of a government facility like this was taken very seriously whenever it goes off.

Everyone knows to run like a bat out of hell if it ever goes off.

And that was my current target.

I slowly traversed the halls in search for the red little box encased in glass and managed to find it further down the hallway.

With my right hand, I smashed the glass and quickly pressed down on the button.

The loud blaring alarms went off just like how they did at my old workplace while red lights started flashing in my vision.

Not even 1 minute after the alarms went off, people started breaking out of the rooms and running like their life depended on it.

They didn’t care about anyone other than themselves and left all of their belongings in fear for their lives.

Even the security guards were running away.

And because of that, I made it to the parking lot without anyone noticing me.

Everyone was quickly getting into their cars and driving off, ignoring my limping figure.

Since all I could hear was the sound of engines starting, I couldn’t figure out where Scar’s car was located just from pushing the unlock and lock button.

With one hand pressed hard against my abdomen, I pushed on the panic button of the remote control and found the car rather quickly.

It was a brand new black Audi with gold rims parked further away, probably because he didn’t want it to get scratched.

I huffed in annoyance and started my short trek towards it.

But, before I could make it to the car, a dark blue truck pulled up right in front of me and cut me off.

The tinted window rolled down and long blonde hair caught my attention before I noticed the familiar face.

It was Lia.

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