Chapter Sixteen

1599 Words
Warning: this chapter contains gore and disturbing imagery. With one strike, the cell door crumples in a metal heap. Saoradh and I, joined in a sacrilegious monstrosity, step out of our cage, our eyes scanning the dark halls. The putrid stench of sweat, blood, and mold grips us – how dare these savages defile our brothers and sisters! A snarl escapes us and we shamble down the concrete hall. Pitiful whimpers from lupine maws wail hopelessly through the metal doors. We draw back our deformed arms and tear down the first door. It topples in a heap, and we kneel on its carcass victoriously. A wolf cowers helplessly, its front limbs still chained in the air as it struggles to balance on its legs. The metal cuffs score bloody bangles against its paws as the wolf thrashes, desperate to stand on four legs and end the discomfort. We march forward, and its eyes eclipse with terror at our form. We lift a twitching hand and rake our long claws against the metal cuffs until they crack. The chestnut wolf topples to the ground and scurries to its legs, looking up at us with fear and awe. We bare our fangs as frothing saliva dribbles to the floor – we relish the power we hold. The wolf lowers its head in submission— Wait, it looks familiar to us… Tadhg? Its name is difficult to hold onto, so we ignore it. Only freedom matters. We will not concern ourselves with something so trivial. We stomp out and bash down the other doors, freeing each werewolf with laughable ease. A door bursts open, and the beastly Fearg steps out from the wreck. It, too, stands on two legs, its eyes ablaze with rage, its scars mutilating its patchy fur, its muscles flexing as it sizes us up. Though Saoradh and I are monstrous, this demonic apparition dwarfs us. It licks its lips, squaring its shoulders as it shudders excitedly. We unleash a thundering bark at it, reminding it of its place. It snarls, and our eyes settle on the pile of molted flesh in its cell; the remains of its humanity. Fearg screams at us, its voice a haunting cacophony of wrath. It does not care who we are. It only wants blood, no matter whose. We must lead it to the savages who tortured us. The werewolves cower behind Saoradh and I. We snap and snarl at Fearg, but that only fuels its bloodlust. Fearg wishes to bloody its fangs and claws? Very well – but it won’t be at the expense of our brothers and sisters. Saoradh and I bolt forward, skittering in a rabid, drunken dance. We barrel into Fearg, who staggers from surprise, and we run. Fearg scythe-shaped claws tear silver ribbons across the metal as it chases us, the scraping and screeching biting our ears. The beast’s panting, snarling, snapping grow ever closer – hot breath ghosts across our crimson tail – a victorious shriek rips through the intoxicating air of bloodlust— We burst out the prison, bathing in the moonlight. Like a drowning man finally gasping for air, we drink in its life-giving warmth. Our lungs are filled with life, warm tears of relief fall down our furry cheeks. Its light won’t cure us now, though; it’s far too late for that. Fearg crashes out from the prison complex, and its incurable savagery is briefly tempered by the calming moon. Beneath its glow, we stand side-by-side as two cursed beasts who refuse to kill each other in such a sacred moment. The chestnut wolf steps into the moonlight and howls, its mournful tune a call to action to our defiled brothers and sisters. The other wolves with us tip their heads back to the moon to honor the Great Mother. Fearg joins in, her screech a blood-chilling oath of revenge; my own voice rings across the snowy fields as a song of relief. After a month of captivity, we’re freed. The moment is spoilt when ugly snarls ruin our howls. Guards from the Sanguine River Pack begin crowding around us. Strangled whimpers escape a few when they behold what Finna, Fearg, Saoradh, and I have done to ourselves— Fearg lunges forward, a pale flash of blinding rage – its jaws snap a guard’s throat, and the helpless victim falls to the ground in a heap. A cry for help is unleashed from its comrade. The Sanguine wolves rush Fearg; one leaps at Saoradh and I, and we wind up our long arm, launching it in a backhand – the wolf tumbles across the field, stunned. Fearg can handle these lackeys. Saoradh and I have a greater purpose. We turn to the new Shifters and motion for them to follow. We will protect them; we will free them. At any cost. We limp and shamble and crawl in skittery, stilted fashion – even still, our speed is unmatched. Strings of drool pour down our mouth, the world glazes over. There is no color, no detail – only instinct and the insatiable drive for deliverance. An earth-shattering roar grips our skull, ringing with authority. The Alpha. We turn to face him just as he tackles us – we tumble and roll across the fields, clods of ice and dirt spraying in every direction as we snap and snarl at each other. Anger flares in our chest. This is the savage who stole our freedom, who humiliated us, who robbed us of our dignity! We will avenge our brothers and sisters with his blood! The Alpha sinks his fangs in our throat, but we feel nothing. Already, our bones are on fire, our insides writhing with agony. Will his pathetic bite break through the waves of pain that embolden us? Our lips pull back in a sickening grin, and we scream at him, writhing and bucking like the rabid animal we’ve become. The Alpha jumps away, but we do not relent. We spring to our feet and body-slam the wolf, wrapping our long arms around his shoulders and hooking our jagged claws deep into his ribs. His pitched whines slice through the air – the new Shifters begin to yip, emboldened by this display of strength. They rush the Alpha, who remains trapped in our grasp, even as he desperately bites at our shoulders. His voice reaches fever pitch when five jaws rip and tear at his flesh. Saoradh and I trap him, our claws anchored in his ribcage. A cornered animal is most dangerous right before death, and this Alpha is no different. He shakes off our brothers and sisters, frees himself from our grasp, and pounces high into the air. He bears down on Saoradh and me, pinning us to the icy ground – the moonlight illuminates his fetid breath in a ghostly cloud as he opens his jaws wide to deliver a killing strike. We cry in defiance and unleash a barrage of claws and fangs. Our mind shuts down as we s***h and snap wildly – the metallic stench of blood floods our nostrils, crimson streams pour from our claws, all we can hear is our raspy breathing, our mouth slickens with more drool— we swallow chunks of flesh and fur, our heart drumming with giddiness— Something pulls us back. We shriek and writhe – we no longer sense the Alpha, but this new assailant must learn his place! We spin around – a silver wolf snarls at us – a party of werewolves surround us. Where did they come from? How dare they think they can defeat us! We will not submit! We throw our arms back and roar as loud as we can, the trees shaking in terror. A snow-white wolf with molten eyes barks, commanding us to surrender. We paw the wintry ground, furious that they interrupted my fun with the Sanguine Alpha! We push off the snow, speeding toward the silver wolf who pulled us away – he will pay! The party of wolves pounces on us, pinning us to the ground with their sheer numbers. We thrash, our throat aching with our screams. No, no, no, we will not be taken captive again! We don’t know how long we struggle under their holds; we don’t care. All that matters is freedom! The sun breaks over the horizon. It’s only now that we realize we’ve been struggling for hours, and that our struggles have melted to little more than pathetic twitches and shivers. We gasp for air, our fire finally dying down as weakness and pain overtakes us. Sunlight washes away the lupine skins of my assailants, and we lay trapped beneath the firm grips of shivering humans. “Oh good heavens, Kiana…!” one of them cries. Her voice is familiar, but we cannot place it. All we can do is jolt and shudder like a mindless animal. We snarl at the pity she shows us. We are proud of the c*****e we unleashed. “What was she thinking, doing this to herself?!” another voice cries. Again, he’s familiar. But we cannot bring ourselves to care. “Get her back home! We’re finished here!” commands another. “And round up the survivors! They’ll be joining our ranks now.” Even as the army of knees and hands release their hold on us, we can’t beckon ourselves to stand. We’re too weak, too exhausted. The commanding voice hisses in my ear, “How dare you steal the glory of another hunt? You know how badly I wanted to defeat the Sanguine River Pack!”
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