Mated to the Moon

A/N: This is the original beginning to Mated to the Moon. It is dark, it also contains rape, if you wish to bypass this then please skip forward to Chapter 1. Korra. I awoke to the floorboards creaking above me, I felt refreshed from my long nap. I’d once again dreamed of the wolf who visits me when I’m asleep in the confines of my cool and dank prison in the basement. His eyes remain a mystery to me, every time I woke up, I’d struggle to remember what they looked like, but the image is fleeting. It has been a few months since I last felt the warm rays of the sun kiss my face, if I close my eyes then I could envision the sun peek over the horizon and blind me with its beauty. Sadly, sometimes I’m locked away in this room for far too long and I begin to lose all track of time, reality will slip away from me as quickly as if you were to inhale a breath. I shifted my body weight in my stiff bed and groan, the fog that clouded my mind dissipated as I’m hit in the head with a pain so intense that I’m convinced it feels worse than childbirth. I begin to lift my face from the pillow only to realize that the blood from my open wound has seeped into the pillow overnight and had dried to it, gluing my cheek to the thin fabric. I lied back down, closed my eyes tightly and pulled away from the pillow in a quick and swift motion, separating my cheek from the soiled pillow. The abrupt separation tore apart the scabbing that had formed on my fresh wound, the thick blood trickled down my face and over my hand that I quickly used to press down on the wound to stop the bleeding. The wolf in me whimpered, I tried not to cry aloud as I stopped putting pressure on the reopened wound and instead I gently touched my cheek tracing the outlines of my fresh injury and whimpered as the events from the night before unfolded in my mind. I can still hear the crack of my cheekbone snapping in half as he swung his meaty fist into my face. The rings on his fingers dug into my cheek, piercing my flesh and making my hot blood flow from the freshly open wound on my cheek. The blood trickled down my neck and onto my breasts, soaking into my white nightgown. It had felt like I had been hit in the face with a baseball bat. My ears rang and my vision became blurry, my breathing caught in my throat as I gasped for air. The shock had overcome my small body and I collapsed to the ground; the familiar taste of blood had begun to flood in my mouth as my teeth had busted open the inside of my cheek. My breath caught in my throat as I pulled away from the memory. My cheek still burned from the cold steel from his rings as they struck my face. I must make him happy tonight, I thought to myself as I gently tugged at my thick ebony locks which were in tangles that hung over my shoulders. My hair had grown to the point that it now reaches just past my thighs. I threw the comforter off my body and climbed out of the rickety old bed and walked to the cracked mirror on my far wall and gazed into it. My reflection stared back at me, but I do not recognize her anymore. I stepped closer to the mirror and touched her lips with my freshly bloodied hand and trace the lines of her lips with my fingers. She’s damaged yet she is still beautiful with her long flowing ebony hair, rosy lips, pale skin that has been torn apart yet looks flawless with no scars, and her eyes so dark they appear black. Her eyes stared back at me with a haunting intensity, begging me to escape. He has done many things to her, but she still has a small glimmer of hope in her eyes. She was curvy, her curves were one of his favorite things to grab on to when he would force himself on her. her small frame hid inside of a white bloodstained nightgown. The nightgown was slightly see-through, her ample breasts were peaking out of the fabric just slightly but enough to tease a man and make him want to see more. Screams echoed in my head as I looked at my unfamiliar face, memories climbed forward from the dark recesses of my mind, things that I wanted to forget. They washed over me like a tidal wave overcoming a great city. It destroys everything in its wake and takes the breath away from millions as it fills their lungs with its cool streams of water. My memories will destroy me if I linger on them for too long. I felt like I was drowning, I couldn’t surface for air and I couldn’t sink to my death. I was broken and drowning in my misery and pain. I looked away from the mirror and stepped away from it, finally breaking free from the pull that it held over me. I clench my eyes closed and hum to myself as I try to distract myself from my surroundings. When nighttime comes my kidnapper will come down to the damp basement cellar that he keeps me locked away in to remind me that he is in control. I cringed and shuddered at the thought and dig my nails into my arm, slowly drawing blood. I’ve called this basement home since I was brought here against my will at the age of five. The cellars stark walls glared at me, nothing was held onto the walls that were made from old and cracked cylinder blocks. A sole dimly lit light flickered above me as I sat on my bed, the faint light above me cast shadows in the empty spaces before me. Tonight, I Imagine that he will come back down here once again to use me like a toy, I pulled my hair to the back of my ear and glanced around at my surroundings. There wasn’t much to look at, he only permitted me to have a bed and a small bookshelf with a few books on it and a cracked circular mirror that hung on the back wall. This was my prison when I acted up or else normally, he allowed me to live upstairs with my bedroom. My feet pressed against the concrete floor, the coolness from the floor traveled up my legs and through my body making me shiver. I gripped the hem of my blood-stained nightgown and stared at the only exit. My only chance at freedom was within my grasp and yet I couldn't reach it. I was being punished this time for an escape attempt, he usually keeps me down here for a week straight before he gives in and permits me to live back upstairs. I’m never allowed outside but I like to imagine what the grass and trees look like. Sometimes I can sneak out to the living room and gaze out the windows and see the leaves swaying in the wind. It’s now winter so there were no more leaves to gaze upon. I stood away from the bed and took a step towards the basement door. It's brass handle called to me and tempted me to reach for it. The rattling of the chains took me out of my trans, they were heavy and cold as they were wrapped around my ankle. He wouldn’t permit me to travel very far after my last escape attempt. For years I have been his prisoner, In the beginning, when I was first brought here all I could do was cry, I cried and begged for him to stop and take me home. I screamed for someone to save me from the man who had murdered my parents and ripped me away from my pack. No matter how much I screamed no sound ever escaped these walls. He's a man who craves power and who enjoys breaking the very thing that he stole. He enjoyed it when I cried, it gave him even more reason to mark my body with injuries that he calls harsh love. I could tell After a few years of being his prisoner that no one was coming to save me, maybe no one was even aware that I was missing. My bottom lip quivered as a tear rolled down my cheek. He has stripped me of my identity, my past, and of everything that I once was. I could hear footsteps coming down the basement stairs. I quickly gathered my bearings and went to stand by my bed as the door began to open. Time seems to slow as he opened the door, first I could see his footstep in the threshold, then his torso and finally his face. The face that’s ingrained in my mind, the face that makes me wince as he stands over me every night. I cringed at the thought. His face is the face of my captor and he goes by the name of Mr. Monroe. My name was Winnifryd but now I’m no one. Mr. Monroe stood in the door frame with his hand clenching the brass handle. “Get up, its time to clean up,” he said as he threw me the key to my shackles. He never unlocks them himself. The keys land at my barefoot and I scramble to get them, excitement filled my body as my hands shook at the thought of leaving this room even if it were for a little while. I was getting sick and tired of my weeklong punishment. I fumbled with the keys, my hands shaking as they were unable to contain my excitement. I had to quickly free myself before he punished me again. I quickly unlocked the padlock that bound the chains together around my ankle and threw them to the other side of the room. In that instant, I felt completely free as if I could run out that door and flee to safety. But it wasn’t that easy. Escaping would be the hardest thing that Id ever be able to pull off. I got up off the dirty concrete floor and walk towards him, keeping my face placid and emotionless, I refuse to show him how happy my temporary freedom made me feel even though I know all too well what awaits me once I climbed the upstairs. I walked past him and started for the stairs that lead out of my temporary tiny prison and to a trap door above my head. I felt something on my lower end, and it made me freeze, he had placed his hand on my ass and was slightly groping it. My stomach churned at his touch, a vile taste was at the back of my mouth and it took all I had to prevent myself from throwing up. “Get going!” he commanded. In the beginning, it would offend me when he commanded me like that, I was something that he could use at his disposal much less order me around. In the beginning, I was foolish and naïve, he stole my innocence and made me his broken toy that he would use whenever he wanted. We climbed the stairs and when we got to the top, I used the keys to unlock the rusted padlock that was keeping the trap door closed. I pushed on the old wooden trap door, briefly exploring the groves in the wood, its rough texture and the stench of paint that coated the other side. I pushed the door open and we emerged through to the other side. I glanced around the room that we had just entered, it was an older room on the far south side of the house the only way to get into the room was to go through Mr. Monroe’s office and through the locked door that enters this room. He loved his locks; they were meant as a precaution to keep me in and locked up. He saw me as a prize and as well as I should be. Wolves are difficult to locate and much more difficult to trap, he got lucky with me as I was just a child who hadn’t yet turned. Our kind typically does not develop their abilities until their first change after they’ve hit puberty. Mr. Monroe kept me weak so he could overpower me, it helped stop me from making my first shift into my wolf form and it prevented me from escaping and made me more susceptible to his abuse. He pushed me towards the door that leads to his office, today he had left it unlocked, it seemed like his guard was down but he does things like this just so he can toy with me. I opened the door and stepped into his office; his office was cluttered with bookshelves covered from top to bottom in tombs. The scent of cigar smoke clung to the air and invaded my nostrils. I grimaced at the smell. I hate this place. “Let’s go,” he demanded in his deep booming voice. He pressed his hand further into my back, guiding me into the hall in front of me. We walked through the hall, passing the living room, I stole a glanced into the living room as we were passed by it. It had 2 brown couches, a flat-screen TV on the far wall and in the corner of the room lied a mess of children’s toys. A lump caught in my throat as I stared at the toys but the moment, the moment didn’t last long before I was forced to move forward into the bathroom that was at the end of the hall. I looked into the mirror in front of us as we entered the bathroom and saw him smiling behind me with an evil intent in his eyes. I dropped the keys that I still held in my hand as I knew what was coming next and I was never ready for it. Some days he would be gentle with me while other days all he wants was to witness the torment on my face as he took what he believed belonged to him. He wrapped his arms around my small torso, his hands gently exploring my curves while moving upwards towards my breasts. I flinched at his touch, my mind running a mile a minute as we stood in the bathroom. He placed his thin lips on the back of my neck and began to kiss my pale flesh while working his way up to my ear where he proceeded to suck on the earlobe. My stomach churned making me feel sick to my stomach, I looked away frantically for a way to fight him off and escape his sickening hold on me. I reached for the bathroom wall as I started to feel lightheaded. A deep laugh rumbled out of his lungs as he got the impression that I was enjoying his touch, it was the opposite. I pulled away from him forcefully, embarrassment spreading to my face and feeling it work its way down my neck. I ignored him and quickly climbed into the porcelain bathtub; I was hoping that he wouldn’t follow suit like he sometimes does but I was sadly wrong. He looked at me with a familiar hunger in his eyes, He approached me and grabbed the hem of my nightgown and forced it off me. I quickly looked away while using my arms to cover my breasts. he's forced me naked and has been in me, he relishes the site of my breasts in his face. Mr. Monroe eagerly threw my bloodstained nightgown in the laundry hamper, it hit the wall with a gentle thud as it slid down the wall and into the hamper. I watched it land amongst other dirty clothes, his clothes from the night before were entwined with a small child’s pajamas. It was a pink onesie with teddy bears strewn about in an erratic pattern. The pajamas were made for a child of the age of one. A child who had soft black hair that fell into soft ringlets around her face, rosy cheeks and a beautiful face that seemed to glow whenever she smiled. He had been talking to me, trying to get my attention as I was transfixed on her small face. I could feel warm water spraying over my body and a sponge working on my arms, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see her face again. I tilted my face towards the stream of water and closed my eyes as I welcomed the warm water to hit my face and travel down my naked body. I looked down and noticed the water flushing the dried blood off my face and carrying it down the drain and away from this place. At least part of me can escape, I thought to myself. I looked at Mr. Monroe as he stood behind me completely naked, his gut protruding out a bit from lack of exercise, his hair was a mix of dirty blond hair with traces of grays throughout his hairline, it was slicked back. The water seemed to sheen from his beard, Wrinkles embraced his face as he was already pushing his mid 60's. He stood naked behind me in the shower and was washing my body for me, He enjoys touching me as my kind fascinated him and now, he owned one. I always seemed to zone out at times like this, it’s the only way that I could escape my reality. He moved the sponge to my breasts and gently pressed it into my skin and moved it in circular motions, I bit down on my lip as I tried not to make a sound. He pressed his lips down on the sensitive spot of my neck and gently dug his teeth in but not puncturing the skin. I moaned out loud at the sensation, my breathing getting heavy as tingles traveled down my spine and charged through my entire body. I reached my arms out in front of me and held onto the wall for balance. Mr. Monroe gathered my long hair and pushed it over my shoulder, so the wet mess of hair hung in front of me as I tried to tame my quickening breath. He reached down between my legs and found my sensitive spot, he gently spread my lips apart, the warm water lubricating his fingertips. He found the nub and gently worked it with his finger, finding the spot that he knew would make me react and played with it. I instinctively moaned aloud and arched my back causing my butt to graze into him. He smiled to himself and proceeded to drop the soapy sponge that he still held in his other hand into the watery floor of the tub beneath our wet bodies. "Pick it up," he said into my ear. I looked down on the sponge and gulped, he would punish me if I didn’t listen to him or if I protested, he's has given me several broken bones in the past for simply rejecting him. My body heals faster than a typical human does, but it still hurts like hell when it happens. He bit my ear hard but not hard enough to draw blood. He slid his hand down to the base of my back and forced me to bend over, he now had better access to my nether regions as well as a better view. He explored the groves between my butt cheeks and moved from rubbing my clit to forcefully slid his fingers within me. I jumped up surprised; his fingers were lubricated by the stream of water that is running over us, but the sensation still shocked me. It took all I had not to cry out. He began to work his fingers in and out of me while his other hand found my breast and worked on fondling it. I tried not to cry out while He was penetrating me with his fingers. I wanted it to end, I wanted to give up and end it all, but I couldn’t, I need to endure his torture until the day when I can save her. My vision blurred and my stomach got queasy as his fingers left my body and he moved his hands on my hips, holding onto me while I’m still bent over, I grip the edges of the tub and close my eyes tightly. I felt something hard and fleshy press between my legs and work its way to my opening, he pushed himself in me and started thrusting. I couldn’t help but moan as his girth explored my insides, I use one hand to cover my mouth to stifle the moans, he was thrusting inside me hard while holding my hips with both of his hands. my breasts smacked into my body repeatedly as he rocked my body against his. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, my body no longer listened to me, nausea flooded through my body making me lose all strength in my legs and I started to fall to my hands and knees which forced him out of me. That didn’t make him happy, he forced himself back in me and held my hair pulling my head back making my back arch into him. The showerhead pumping water over our bodies as he took a final thrust into me and pumped his seed deep into my womb. My eyes teared up as he released me and let me fall to the floor of the tub. My dark hair clung over my shoulders and floated in the water below me. The pressure started in my stomach built and worked its way through my entire body making me quiver. I began dry heaving while my elbows propped me up, time seemed to stand still while the pressure built from my stomach and the vile spew from my mouth and mixed with the water. The water running down my face masked my tears as I watched the vomit seep down the drain. He forcefully grabbed me by my armpits and forced me on my feet. He had a look of disgust on his face as his mouth was fixed in a grim line. When I was on my feet, he grabbed my soaking wet hair by the roots and yanked my head back. I could almost hear my neck crack at the motion and my eyes teared up from the pain that shot down my spine. He threw me out of the bathroom and onto the hallway floor and through the trap door and aggressively pushed me down the old wooden stairs that led to my small prison. A moment of horror fled through my body as he pushed me forward, I tried to grab onto something, but it was too late, it felt like every inch of my body had contacted the steps as I tumbled down the stairs. I used my arms to cover my healing face that was still somewhat busted open from the night before. Covering my face didn’t help prevent the awful skull-cracking noise that vibrated in my head when it met one of the steps. I landed on the cold hard concrete with a thud and uncovered my face, the room seemed to spin around me as I held my aching head and yet it didn’t take long before the world went dark. … I slowly opened my eyes and sat upright in a familiar and comfortable bed, the bed felt amazing, it embraced my body and caressed my aching limbs, my bruises stood out amongst the white downy comforter, but I didn’t care. Quiet footsteps wandered the hallway outside of the bedroom door, quiet sounds made from the tiniest of feet. My breath caught in my throat and my heart raced as I threw the comforter from my body and bolted for the locked bedroom door. I eagerly placed my ear to the door and stopped breathing in hopes that I could hear her more, he had let her out to play in the hall, he was teasing me and making me hopeful. My hands became shaky and I gulped at the realization that he had full control over her, I'd kill him if he lay a finger on my innocent daughter. My motherly instincts and the wolf in me grew enraged. She was my child and he was keeping her from me! my only child that I gave birth to while in captivity. He let me name her and allowed me to see her when I obeyed him and was good. Her footsteps faded as I could hear him lifting her and taking her into the living room to play with her toys. Tears ran down my cheeks as he took her away, I looked around the room and glanced at my surroundings. The room held a single bed, an end table, a rocking chair, and a closet full of clothes that he had picked out for me. I looked down at my flat stomach and traced the lines from my faint stretch marks from my previous pregnancy, I looked at the door quickly and frowned. I need to get her away from him, I thought to myself. But how? The grandfather clocks chime danced throughout the halls and entered my new bedroom with a graceful vibrant sound that announced that it was now eight o'clock at night. My stomach churned and growled at the stillness in the air seems to agree with the chiming. I held onto my stomach as my stomach became riddled with cramps. I haven't been able to keep any food down for the past few days, but my stomach still announced that it wanted food. I sighed and climbed onto the hardwood floor and pressed my head against the wall. It has been hours since I’d last heard the music like sounds from my young daughter on the other side of this wall. I closed my eyes and pressed my pale hands onto the cold floor focusing on the coolness seep into my fingers, up to my arms and down my body. My eyes fluttered open, I looked over to the closet that held my clothing and an idea came to me. I climbed up off the floor and walked to the closet, I sifted through the articles of clothing and found the perfect one, it was a dress made with a thicker blue material. I pulled it off its designated hanger and pressed it against my body while I swung around in gleeful circles. I smiled to myself as I wound the dress around my hand tightly, so my fist was nice and snug inside. I grabbed an extra dress off another hanger and hung it over my arm. I approached the bathroom door and swung it open and approached the green sink. I looked at my smiling face in the mirror, the wound on my cheek was almost completely healed, it wouldn’t leave a scar which made me happy. I took the dress that was hanging over my arm and used it to completely cover the mirror, my unfamiliar reflection now hiding from me like it does every time. Anger filled my body, rising into my throat and making it hard to swallow. I wanted to cry and scream but I couldn't, I’d rather be alone then get punished for making a sound. I bit down on my bottom lip holding my rage inside, I drew my bundled up fist back behind my head, clenched tight to the fabric that held my fist safely within its grasp and threw my fist at the covered mirror with all of the strength that I could muster. I heard and felt the glass shatter all at the same time, the noise echoed in the bathroom which made my stomach sink. Did he hear that? I stood still for several minutes, my fist still on the spot where I punched the mirror completely frozen in fear. The house was silent besides the faint tune from a radio playing music that I haven’t heard before. It was coming from his office as he stays in there at nighttime to work. I waited for time to pass, listening for any signs that he heard me break the mirror but there were none. I sighed in relief as I gently removed my fist from the mirror, any glass that my fist was holding down onto the frame came falling into the sink in front of me. I removed the dress from my hand and took my shaking fingers and grabbed onto the other dress that was hanging over the mirror and pulled it off. I pulled it off the mirror quickly and glanced into the shattered shards that still held onto the frame, a shattered girl looked back at me, only this time she had a plan and was determined to carry it out. I grabbed at a large sharp piece of glass that stared back at me, placing it into my hand and holding it firmly. It fit in my hand so well that I couldn’t help but smile happily. Tonight, I was determined to take my daughter and escape from his clutches. I turned around quickly and exited the bathroom, I closed the door behind me and turned towards the bed. Now I just needed to make sure that he doesn’t see the broken mirror. I walked to the bed and climbed on top of the white comforter. I lifted one of the many pillows and placed the glass shard snugly inside the pillowcase so that it would be difficult to spot. I placed the pillow back and climbed back under the covers and pulled them to my chin, the coolness from the stuffed blanket made my eyes grow heavy, I buried my face into a pillow and closed my eyes. Now I wait. … I awoke with a start with lewd moans escaping my throat, the room was dark, but I felt his familiar body weight pressing me down on the bed, my privates ached with pleasure as he trusted himself in me. I raised my arms and placed them around his neck and instinctively arched my back into him and groaned with pleasure. He leaned further into me and pressed his lips into mine roughly, forcing my mouth open with his tongue and explored my mouth. I rocked my hips with him, helping him f**k me deeper and to allow his tip to rub vigorously against my sweet spot. “f**k!” I moaned aloud without thinking. This seemed to please him, he left my lips and kissed down to my throat and sucked on the sensitive spot on my neck. A carnal instinct was rising from my nether regions and I was slowly building to a climax. I moved my hand to the back of his neck and gently held his face to my neck, he complied and kept sucking on my neck with his head buried against it. I opened my eyes and focused on thrusting my hips with his, I knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. I eased my other hand into the pillowcase and felt the coolness of the glass shard between my fingers. I moaned sweetly into his ear so he wouldn’t suspect anything and slowly withdrew the shard from the pillowcase. I pulled it out completely and held it firmly in my hand. I plunged the glass shard into the soft tissue of his neck Just as he was climaxing inside of me, spreading his seed deep into my womb. I watched as his eyes glazed over and he fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump, his blood began to spill onto the hardwood floor and seep into the cracks. I sat up in the bed and stared at his now lifeless body feeling completely dumbfounded and not believing that that worked. I touched my face and looked at his blood that now coated my fingertips. I was finally free. His lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, his blood now cold after seeping into the hardwood for what felt like hours. I stared at his body in complete shock, his blood had completely dried by now on my hands and face, I glanced down at my body and saw that my entire torso was coated in his dried blood. A distant crying in the next room broke me out of my reverie I glanced at the bedroom door nervously, unsure of what comes next. Her crying rung in my ears almost calling me, my breasts became wet at the sound of her shrill crying. I was afraid to say her name in case this was all just a dream, I didn’t want to suddenly wake up and be in the basement cellar again to find that I had only dreamt about his murder and my escape. But I wasn’t waking up, her cries are real and Mr. Monroe’s dead body at the foot of the bed was most certainly real. I made my way off the bed and walked around his dead body, grimacing at his lifeless body, I can’t let her see that. I avoided the blood puddles and tippy toed around his head, my socked feet quietly guiding me out of the room and through the bedroom door. I looked back behind me and looked down on his body once more, his head was turned towards the door and his lifeless eyes stared in my direction. Chills traveled down my spine and I quickly grabbed the door handle and swung the door shut, locking his body away in the windowless room. I stood at the closed door completely motionless as far and excitement charged through my body, I needed to go to her and stop her crying, I needed to embrace my daughter for the first time since he ripped her out of my arms. I turned on my heels and quickly walked towards the direction that her cries were coming from. I stopped at a pink room at the end of the hall, it held a crib, a changing table, and a mass amount of teddy bears. She was lying on her back with her face red from the constant crying and her small hands bundled in fists, she stopped crying when she saw me standing over her. Her eyes were filled with tears and her onyx curls were in tangles around her face, I smiled at her bed head and reached down to pick her up and place her in my waiting arms. I held her to me tightly and walked to the rocking chair that was in her room. I plopped down on the chair and held her close, her curls brushed against my face and I got a good whiff of her sweet baby smell. Tears started to leak out of my eyes as I broke down crying, she looked at me concerned and stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked on it. I was sniffling and rubbing at my wet eyes and runny nose when my tank top started to get wet, it’s like my body knew that she was hungry. I lifted the sweatshirt and the tank top so that my leaking breasts were exposed, I brought her head to one of my breasts and guided the n****e to her mouth. My sweet girl easily latched on and started to drink the milk, I smiled at her happily, at least I can feed her. I got out of the chair with her nursing in my arms, I needed to get out of there and now, she looked back at me and smiled the most beautiful smile that I’d ever seen. I can finally say her name without feeling fear or dread at our futures. I held her close and kissed her warm forehead. Ersa.