[u][center] West Heights Apartments, Kenan. [/center][/u]

[i]Emmet was submerged, his shirtless torso dipped completely into a large glass tank overfilled past the brim with water. The gloved hands of three men, two humans and another demon, held him firmly there. His lungs burned desperately for air causing him to buck and jerk himself free. It was merely a waste of energy as the men were far stronger than his twenty year old body had been at the time, namely after two days of starving in utter darkness in a filthy hole in the ground. Their fingers wrapped tightly whenever he moved until their grasp was hard enough to leave more bruises behind. Then he heard the hollow thumps of Darius’s footsteps which approached the small group. Emmet’s panic surged through him, redoubling his efforts for freedom. Beyond the distorted water’s surface, he saw the kitsune’s face peer overhead. In his hands was an obscured dark creature, it’s lengthy and thick body wrapped about the extended glove ends which also covered Darius’s arms. Protecting him. He didn’t wear his suit but had on just a plain white button shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, not willing to allow another to step in for his role as teacher in this painful lesson. To Emmet, this was evidence Darius chose to do his own dirty work from time to time. Most often it felt his favorite student was none other than Emmet himself. 

“Tsk, tsk. I have to say, I’m disappointed in your tactics. Oh well, consider this your lesson and a warning.” Darius voice took on a tone like a parent chiding a troublesome child. Without farther words, he dropped the eel into the water. 

A current jolted through Emmet’s bare body the moment the animal’s thick body brushed him, his mouth opened in a bubbled cry. Air rushed from his lungs as water came in to replace it, choking him. His skeleton felt the fire burn within his flesh and his muscles spasm then clamped in on itself tightly. He couldn’t control the seizures that licked up and down his body, his senses darkened and dimmed in his water prison. [/i] 

Emmet slammed his hand against the shower wall. A tingling, painful and blissfully real, raced through the contact point and up his arm. Golden hair plastered to his skull and dripped droplets from their tips, one by one. His fist hand settled in place, letting hot water pour over his body. The stream twisted and warped about him as if to protect and hide him from the outside world, something it could only do until the heated water ran out. Too bad its magic didn’t include the memories. The jaded past pressed at his closed eyes unable to block out the chill inside. That was only one of the many scars left behind in his life time. It gave him a reason to consider carefully each failure, unsuccessful escape and attempted murder he tried in the years which followed against Darius. And the reasons he had stopped altogether when they went wrong. Thankfully he was the one to suffer it all, his sister blissfully unaware and somehow, some way he would keep it that way for the rest of her life. His throat constricted when he considered Olivia could possibly have to endure such events one day. Reflexively his fingers dug farther into his palms until he could feel the skin being pierced and blood swelled from the wounds. It farther tinted his emotions, swirling him into darkness where there was little escape. 
 
Faintly he wished all his memories would simply wash down the drain like the red tinted water and vanish from his mind just as quickly. Sadly, it was wishful thinking. He pressed his head upon the tile to steady his shivering body while the image was purged from his thoughts. He was foolish enough to think he could’ve outrun Darius’s grasp and escape unscratched. No…instead he ended up humiliated, starved, beaten, and electrocuted that day which compared to the future punishments, was easy to survive. He shook his head then twisted the water off before he reached around for his towel and hopped out. The effort had nearly brought him to his knees when the pain erupted through his back, lighting him on fire. 

“Fuck…” Emmet whispered in a harsh curse.

His balance faltered, his hand hastily jerked outright and sought to balance himself. It was a desperate ploy to stay upright. The whole world seemed to tilt away from him causing his arm to crumble and give, his body slowly slouched against the smooth wall until everything stopped spinning. Somehow, not completely aware how, he had managed to prop himself against the hard wall where his knees became rests for his arms. It was hard not to just curl into a ball right there on the floor. Sometime along the way his stomach was hell bent on churning up what remained of his last meal, some fast food, until it came rushing up again. Within a few minutes, the violent turning in his middle had settled into a sour lump and the floor appeared to cease its wild bucking. Thankful he didn’t need to shout for Juan, he just sat there. He didn’t have much strength to deal with Juan’s flirts in this state or prevent him from sneaking a feel so he aimed not to invite the chance. Emmet had pushed his head backwards where he looked over at his clothes sitting on the toilet’s closed lid. He found it amusing he had just recent started to remember to put the seat down when Zi started to come over, maybe a result from having a female around more often than every other weekend with his sister. His was lucky Juan chose to avoid the apartment during Olivia’s visits because he lied enough as it was to her. 

His courage seemed to have fled, a smart thing in the back of his mind, as he fought the fear at the idea of trying to stand. He inhaled cleansing breaths for several seconds before he forced himself back onto his feet. Emmet waited until the flood of blood rushing into his brain had stopped, his world once more set right and his strength returned out of pure stubbornness. 

It took longer to get dress but Emmet finally finished slipping on his jeans then using the door frame, edged his way out. His voice was weak when he shouted. “Juan… I need a little help.” 

It didn’t the demon anymore then second to appear. Still in his former attire, he stepped in close and took Emmet’s arm with surprising gentleness from the frame over his shoulder, taking most of Emmet’s weight. “You shouldn’t have bled all over the place. I told you that you lost too much blood! Never listen to me, do you hot stuff? Hope Zi likes the undead look.”

“Juan just fucking put me on the bed and get the kit. I don’t want Zi seeing me like this.” 

“And you think the fact you can barely stand will go unnoticed?” 

“Juan.” Emmet growled, his eyes lids heavy. 

“Just saying, it’s likely we didn’t get all the venom out before the operation. A simple flush of your system and fresh blood will have you sorted out in a bit.” Juan gave his medical observation. Out of habit, his shoulder repositioned itself under his load causing Emmet’s face to crunch in pain from the movement. Juan looked like he was about to slink into a corner at Emmet’s reaction but was held firmly in place by the tightened grip. “Though you realize, you might have to cancel the date now. As well as someone else will have to pick up Olivia.” 

Emmet’s expression was a heated glare at the demon as he was settled upon the bed. Juan, on the other hand, seemed have a smile linger on his lips at the suggestion before he pulled away. In moments Emmet watched Juan duck down to reach the boxes under the bed, his hand tugged one marked with a red cross then clicked it open. Wasting little time, he set aside an assortment of things: salve, two bandage rolls, tape, two clear thin tubes, a bag filled with a salt and water solution, and some butterfly needles into a neat pile. Then he turned to Emmet, his hand tied off the upper arm while he looked for an ideal vein. Emmet felt the first needle being inserted into him as Juan slipped a steel hook into the bag end, finishing up when he placed the item at a higher level to let gravity do its work. He placed the rest on the bedside table and headed into the kitchen. Emmet heard silence until the sound of the fridge opened then closed; his eyes caught Juan return with a red bag in hand, whistling a pleasant melody. Emmet knew it was from his emergency stash, harvested bit by bit over the years at Juan’s suggestion. It made going to an ER an absolute last option when a job went badly. There was also plasma stored in the same place within the fridge, hidden inside a lower, right drawer. The only bad part in the whole apartment was that there was only one place to keep everything cold. So after years of keeping his soda near several hanging blood bags he had filled, Emmet’s stomach had learned a measure of tolerance he never realize could be achieved. 

Juan’s exotic cooking also helped in that area too. 

There was a knock at the door once Juan had finished attaching the blood bag and positing it next to the IV bag. The sound made both boys turn their head, Emmet with anxiety and Juan merely curious. Without delaying for another knock, Juan motioned for Emmet, much to his annoyance, to stay lying on his stomach. Cautiously the demon moved toward the front door, his hand readied itself with a dim red glow while he twisted the knob and edged it open. All at once his stiff posture relaxed abruptly when he saw who it was.