An intense spike of pain roused her awake.

She tried to support herself and sit, but her arms won’t move. Tingles bit into her hands, and she groaned. She peeled her eyes open to see her wrists cuffed to a hospital bed. Panic splintered her head as she yanked at the restraint. 

 

There are certain doors our minds close to protect us. Whether it’s blacked-out memories or denial—we’ve chained those doors closed for a reason. Once you break the locks, there’s no going back. You may have to accept a new reality for yourself, and that can be dangerous.

Marlena was scared that she’d already begun the process. 

She was afraid of what lies beyond the blackness. She knew there was something there lurking, waiting. 

Threatening. 

She was afraid that once she set the truth free, she’d lose the last of herself, of John. 

His face was so close to her now; she couldn’t breathe, his breath smelled of the chianti she saw on one of the shelves back at the cabin. 

 

Her fear was caught too, until she realized Fernando was alone with her in the exam room. As the grogginess wore off, she took stock of her surroundings. 

It was dark. A dim light illuminated the dirty room. 

“Why am I handcuffed? What did you do with John?” 

He kept his gaze down to the table.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of our situation. And John is in no use for me anymore.” 

He was still dressed in the same clothes. 

She twisted in the seat to face him. 

“That’s not what I asked. Why am I restrained, and where is John?” He reached for the steal table and grabbed a bottled water. 

“Drink this.” 

With a frustrated sigh, she jerked at the cuffs until her wrist bled.

“Finished?” he asked. 

“Fuck you!” But suddenly thirst gripped her throat. She tipped the bottle with her mouth and guzzled. When she pulled away, he sat the water on the bedside stand. 

 

“You said you’d release us.” 

“I never said that.” He glanced over. “I said I would release you. I didn’t say when, or how, plus we have a long way to go first.” 

“We’re not your hostages, Fernando.” 

“No, you’re not hostages. You’re a hostile victim of your own prison. Once you’re free of that, and help me uncover our past, you can go. But not before you’ll tell me the truth.” The way he said truth iced her blood. 

 

“Fernando, wait. Talk to me; I think you’re making a huge mistake here.”

He laughed, not even looking at her; his eyes were fixated on something in his hand.

“Finally, the fine Doctor Evans wants to talk. What makes you think that I want to talk to you, Principessa? Huh? After all you’ve done, after all the pain you caused me, did you ever stop to talk to me?”

She straightened her back as much as she could. The position threaded every muscle along her spine with white-hot pain. She parted her mouth to inhale a breath and then expel the ache, visualizing the pain as a physical object she could eject from her body. 

 

“Help me remember than, tell me what happened before the explosion occurred. Let me help you remember. Talk to me,” Fernando’s hand closed over her neck, holding on to her tighter. Her question lashed out like a whip, cracking the seams of time, and the past bled into the present. First, a hazy red at the corners, then the blood covered his memories. 

 

Beneath her professional obligations, a voice whispered from the dark recesses of her mind. 

A warning. 

To protect herself, she had to escape Fernando, to keep him away. 

He was danger. 

He was death.

She swallowed hard. 

 

She breathed, knowing that it was now—right now. 

She had to escape. 

She grunted and moved as she tried to drop his hands away from her throat. “If you kill me, then you’ll never truly have your revenge. You can’t destroy a dead person.” Fernando grabbed the nape of her neck and hauled her up, bringing her close. “This is the first time you’re being honest, Doc.” Anger spiked her blood, fueling a rush of adrenaline. 

 

He gripped her face and backed her against the bed, ignoring her whimpering. Her heart lurched into her throat as his gaze darkened. 

“Don-”

Then his mouth closed over hers, the kiss stealing what was left of her breath. He pulled away with a gleam in his eyes. 

“What the hell do you want?” she asked, glancing to the side. Trying to find a way to escape.

 

“You assume I want to kill you because of what you did to me,” he said as he jerked the object in his palm and clipped it to his belt. “But that’s just your guilt. You’ve trained yourself to feel it in order to blend.” He spat the words at her. “Let go of it. It gets in your way. I need you to remember.” 

 

“Fuck. Fernando, what the hell do you want from me?”

“Be a good girl and do as you told.” Through the adrenaline, she made the connection. It slid together like a puzzle piece snapping in place. He needed her memories to uncover his own. Some of his past was missing as well.

 

“Tell me the truth...or kill me...why don’t you just kill me,” she accused. 

“To be fair, I’m not done with you yet, I will make you remember, and you will help me bring down Stefano once and for all.” 

“The hell I will! Release me! Stop talking in codes for god sakes and tell me what truth you're talking about! Where is John? I want to know, tell me!” 

“You will try to run, regardless of your choice. Everyone runs from their truth. I can’t let that happen.” 

“Ok, if you want my help, I want answers. Tell me...Just tell me!!”

“Black Bird. I’m looking for Black Bird.”

“What?” she tried to move in the bed. She evaluated her state and situation. She has never heard that term. Her skin was sticky and itchy with dried sweat. She was barefoot, her legs and feet covered in dusty mud. Her pain was present, but not overbearing. They were in an underground clinic, what in the world happened there years ago. 

 

She was a psychiatrist who needed to act like one and reason with her patient. 

“Tell me about it,” she said. 

“I'm surprised you know nothing of it...years ago, Stefano knew that it would come a day, that someone might want to hurt him and his possessions. He had created a safe, holding codes, bank account data, hideouts locations,” he said, not even looking at her. “I will find it and destroy it, once and for all.”

“Where’s John?” she hoped he would keep talking.

At her impatient glare, he continued. 

“That fuck used me to get down here, to you.”

 

Oh, God, he faked it...

 

“What have you done with him?” she gritted.

“He started a fight after I put a needle in you. So I knocked him out, he’s back at the master bedroom.”

 

For all she’d learned of his psyche, she realized she knew nothing of the man. 

“Hurting people. Is that all you do? Is that a trade you picked up from your childhood?”

He smiled. “Not every confined space belongs to you, Principessa. You can stop trying to shrink me. You were never the one in control.” Heat rose to her face. Acute anger that he may be right singed her nerves.

“How long have you been plotting this?” He gripped the bed railing with both hands. “At first, I served my time in prison. Memories kept surfacing, random memories, bits and pieces; I knew what I needed to do. Then I was released.” 

“If your memory has returned, why do you need us for?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“He’s in no good use to me. He doesn't remember shit,” he said, his voice low and measured. 

“Again, what do you need me for?” He looked at her. “What have you done many years ago down here?” She held his gaze, unable to answer. 

“You abused me, us, and now, now you don’t even remember.” 

She shook her head. 

“No, that didn’t happen.” 

“Yes, Marlena. I knew, that when I am finally out of that jail cell, I’ll make John pay and once and for all, make Stefano pay, for taking my family away from me, for ruining my life. But I had to find John first. I’m good. Damn good and yes, intelligent—but this was a complex strategy over a long period of time that needed all the right pieces to fall into place. Until that night in Lugano. I found John, I knew his fucking face, but you, it took me the time to realize I knew you.” 

 

On some level, that was a likely probability. As a master manipulator, Fernando figured out her weaknesses and used them to achieve his desired outcome. And she was the vain psychiatrist that tried to control a volatile interaction with a madman. 

She failed.

 

“This isn’t what I wanted to do,” she replied to his first remark.

“But you did,” he said. “I guess something inside of you had been screaming into the void, demanding your answer, and the void heard you. This is predestined. This is why I came into your life.” 

“You are absolutely psychotic,” she said. 

 

He took out a patient folder, and her anxiety grew. Marlena tried to free herself of the handcuffs again, but they were too tight. He closed his hand at her wrist.

“Remember this?” He looked at her then. 

Panic iced her veins. 

Real panic. 

As the reality of her situation sunk in. Fernando has taken her to the O.R...What has she done there years ago? 

 

Her breathing labored as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. “This is my file. Apparently, during our sessions, I told you how much I enjoyed puzzles. There’s just something satisfying about putting the pieces together. I’ve been putting them together my whole life, searching for the one to end my suffering. You were a puzzle, Marlena. And once the puzzle presented itself, I couldn’t not put the pieces together. You created an unknown variable in my life that I had to decipher. You were the key.” 

“The key to what?” 

He didn’t answer. 

 

Instead, he moved in close to her face. “The key to what, Fernando? God, do you know how insane you sound? I never would’ve diagnosed you as delusional, but you’re making me question my integrity as a psychiatrist.” He held her wrist tightly. Her skin stung, his tight grasp a pulsing pressure locked around her arm. He ate the distance between them, his face so close to hers; she held her breath. 

 

“You forgot I’ve touched you,” he said, his words a hot whisper against her lips. “I’ve seen you naked, drugged. I’ve felt your desperation and your longing. The pain you carry isn’t physical. You’re dying for the punishment you never got, but know you deserve.” 

 

She blinked hard. Her heart constricted in her chest. “No. I want to leave. Now. Right now, Fernando. Let me go. Let me and John go” He rested his palm on her cheek. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” Then his lips tasted hers. Slow and tentative at first, he kissed her deeply, and she fought against him. His movements became frenzied as she tried to speak, begging him. 

 

When he broke away, she said again, “Please, release me.” He licked his lips as his gaze dragged over her face. “Not happening, Doc. You’ve been a very, very bad girl.” He pushed her back to the bed. Her bare feet kicked at the bed as she struggled against him. Her screams tore into the night. “You bastard!” She spat in his face, and he loved the way the motion made her tits bounce. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting her. Then pressing the syringe to her neck, he leaned down. 

 

And squeezed. 

 

It’s the fear of the unknown that plagued most of us. Even Marlena, with her knowledge and skills to defy the mind, was afflicted with the terror of not knowing what awaits her on the other side. Her body trembled in his arms. Her adrenaline careened through her system. His touch a malicious act. He ran his fingers through her hair, attempting to soothe her. She needed to be calm for this next part. 

 

“Try not to move,” he told her, pushing the needle deeper into her neck. She attempted to struggle, but her muscles were fatigued. Her energy all but gone. Her body starved and drained. This could be her breaking point, if she’d allow it. She relaxed against him. “Fernando, please. I just want to go home. I’m dehydrated and hungry. I’m dirty. I know this isn’t what you want to do. You can fight the compulsion. You don’t want to hurt me.” 

 

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “This isn’t just about your punishment.” 

 

Oh, God.

 

“Why do you think I brought you here? I wanted to find this place, where you and Stefano used us; I knew it was out there; I needed you to remember.‘Mansion Noir’ used to be right above us. I knew that if I brought you here, you’d remember and somehow, find it.” 

“Please,” she whispered.

He shook his head as he hovered over her chest. “We both have some things to figure out, Marlena. Only one way to do that.” 

 

Her wrists were grimy and bruised. Dark-red rings of dried blood marked her skin beneath the chains. Her whimpers were starting to agitate him. 

“You’re not some weak, unfortunate victim. You know why you’re here.” She released a scream. It was a cry of frustration, fear. She wiped her matted bangs off her forehead with ahead swing. “When I get free…” she trailed off, the threat evident in her callous tone. 

 

He lowered the syringe and faced her. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He glanced at her. She shivered against the bed, cold and pale. “I can’t wait for you to experience it.” 

“You can’t go through with this,” she said with less resistance. 

“Let me go, please...even if I have done all you say I did, I had no control of my actions, I wasn’t myself ” Her voice rose in anger. “You can’t go through with this because it won’t help you any. I have no memory of the past.” 

 

He paused to look into her eyes. “Some exceptions had to be made.” he tossed the syringe across the room, loving the sound of it shattering on the floor. “You have a long trail of victims, Marlena. I’ll let you recall their faces on your own.” 

“You sadistic freak, there were no victims!” She assessed. Her gown covered in filth, her skin rippled with shivers. Her head hung down, and he braced his hands on either side of her face to lift her eyes to his. 

“You can end our pain,” he said. 

 

He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, clearing away the dried tear tracks. “Relax, Marlena. Unburden yourself. Admit the truth of who you are and what you’ve done, and this all ends.” Her eyes focused on his. Then she spat in his face. 

“You’re not my fucking priest.” 

“Fine.” he shackled her feet. “See you in hell, baby.” Her shrieking increase as she gained a second wind. 

 

“You bastard!” She yanked against her restraints. “You’re a deluded hypocrite. You killed people!”

“Sweet dreams, Doc. I’ll be back for you soon; and I will need you to tell me what you know.”

Stepping out of the room, he took one last glance at her before leaving and closing the door.

“Fuck you—” she shouted. “You drugged me. Let me out! Please. God, Fernando, don’t do this.” 

 

Her cries were muffled, and when he closed the door, he lied against the closed door. 

And waited. 

 

“What did you give me?!” Her mind blurred, and she tried to fight off the haziness and her foggy vision.

 

She’d been drugged.

 

Panic was a living being inside her mind with her—the only thing telling her that she was still alive in the pitch-black. Her breaths quickened, her chest on fire as the air was sucked away. 

 

Pain stung her skin. The pain sharpened her senses. 

He couldn’t let her die. Dread raised within her, “John..help...” she whispered. 

She fell into the zone of watching—it was a calm, hypnotic state as the intrusive thoughts, which have been more frequent in the past few weeks, increased when she viewed her locked memories through an extraordinary lens. Her gasps for air pulsed her chest. Her nails clawed at the restrains. He watched from the hall through the big window how her eyes rolled up. When her hands fell away, he pressed his forehead to the glass, noticing her lips mumbling shallow pleas before she faded into blankness.

 

             “I thought you’d want to know that the last procedure was successful. There won’t be any memories left, anything of his old life. Nothing.” 

Her heart knocked hard against her chest. 

“How medicated is he?” She asked

“Very,” he gave her a tight smile. Her eyes closed briefly. She stepped forward, “If that’s so, I want to go back up to my old room. I’m done.”

His smile didn’t waver.

“Did it hurt you?”

“What?”

“Doing this every day?”

She sucked in a breath and faced him, “At first it didn’t, I was angry, I wanted to get back at him-“ she answered.

“And now?”

“Now I want out.” She lifted her chin. 

 

He took out a big syringe, and she flew from her post, her feet carrying her before she’d given thought to the consequences. The wooden door pulled at her like a net, as if dragging her from the depths of terrifying deep sea. Her momentum slammed her into the door, shaking the coat rack in.

He was a step after her, turning her against the door, he leaned in.

She fought.

“Don’t you dare touch me. I did the job, no questions asked, but that is it, that was the deal. The new experiment worked. The Nano-micro chips seem to be working better than the old ones, as you said. I’m done.” 

 

It was silent, and Marlena grew hopeful he was going to let her go. Before she had a second to react, he pushed her skirt up. Her hair stood on end as she shivered through a chill. “Well, he has better plans for you, my dear,” he growled. “..Please...he promised. I kept my end of the deal,” Tears started to flow more steadily from her eyes as she gasped for air. 

"The deal's off; he needs you for something else now."

“When I’ll leave here I’ll-” she begged quietly, closing her eyes and hoping she would wake up and the last few minutes would turn out to be a bad dream. He grasped onto the white fabric of her raffle skirt and ripped it painfully from her body.

She screamed from the shock of it. 

​

​

His fingers sunk expertly into the flash of her thigh as if he’d spent the past month memorizing her.

“You traitor” She gasped as he pushed against her, unable to stop his action. She knew how evil he was and the extent he was willing to travel to get his way. He reached the arch deep within her thigh and pressed the needle deep into her skin, and all she could do was grasp for his shoulders. Saving herself from falling. 

“It’s inside you now…” His teeth grazed her elegant jawline. “Under your skin...the one I designed” His hand tightened, and the lack of oxygen made her head swim, yet she was hyper-aware of every erogenous zone on her body—and she screamed.

 

“You know? I love it when you scream, but now’s not the time for that.” He pressed one hand over her mouth, holding the syringe against her inner thigh with the other. Her breathing grew labored under his weight as she tried to squirm from his hold, her head throbbing, and her stomach queasy. He easily outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but he was drunk with power too. All she needed was a few seconds to get away from him and grab his gun. 

 

​

Bad Wolves - Zombie

​

​

She couldn’t move her back, or her arms and her legs were useless. She opened her eyes, her vision slightly blurry, but all she could see was the wall he had her pressed against. The long needle sunk deeper into her flash.

​

Their eyes met. He lowered himself over her. Brushed her golden hair from her eyes. The action so gentle as a contrast to what he was doing. 

“You serve a greater cause .” 

Marlena trembled at his words. “Does that terrify you?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

A cruel smile slanted his mouth. 

“What are you doing to me?” she swallowed.

“Keeping you safe.” 

 

She was burning, the heat from the device in his hand swan in her blood, and she felt the burning of skin.

 

“Look at me, Marlena,” he demanded. He held her tight, his hand finding her neck and forcing her eyes on him. His fingers were making sure the needle stayed in place. “Say it. Say who you are, you know the answer, you've heard it before. Admit your truth.” His fingers never wavered, caressing the ache heating her flesh, as his other hand closed around her throat. 

“Black Bird.” Once the truth was bared, unadulterated pain swept through her. The fire seared her muscles, consuming her like a wildfire. 

 

She heard his dark groan; then his mouth was on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. His teeth sunk into her skin as she rode the last waves of pain. His mission was complete; it was in, as he intended.

“Very good.” he amused.

 

Her face flashed red with anger. She had every intention of fighting. Parting her lips, she sunk her teeth into his skin, biting down hard on the hand, covering her mouth. When she tasted metal, she knew she had drawn blood. 

“Damn! You bitch!” he howled, releasing her.

 

She kneed him in the groin, and he fell to the ground. She started to run for the door, but he was fast, and she was limping now. He reached his hand out and grasped onto her ankle, pulling her to the ground, her cry becoming desperate and loud from their struggle. With her good leg, she kicked him repeatedly.

He moaned in pain, clutching his head as blood streamed down his face, but before she knew it, he grabbed her forearms, lifting them both to their feet. 

 

He tucked her hair behind her ear. On impulse, he kissed her cheek. She flinched like he slapped her. 

 

“That’s right,” he said smirking. “Fight me, but it won't do you any good, the deed is done.”