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Harlow
Three Years Ago
Holy Saints Church
The circle of robed priests around me were spewing Bible verses at such a rapid rate it almost sounded like a foreign language. Then again, it could be Latin or tongues, I wouldn’t know the difference.
Part of me was considering putting on a show for them, blowing their minds by making them think that I truly was possessed. Maybe writhing around and babbling to freak them out?
This exorcism was just as much a joke as the rest of my life, but seeing as how I was tied to a chair, there wasn’t much I could do other than internally laugh at them and wish this was over.
If I lashed out, I’d be overpowered easily. I was an omega tied down with a group of older alphas and betas. It was not a position I enjoyed.
The thick ropes scratched at my tender wrists as I struggled against them, and I knew damn well my skin would be raw and bruised if I was ever released.
At the moment, my hopes weren’t high.
Being surrounded by four priests and a bishop did not bode well for me. Their scents were twisted with a strange mix of fear, anticipation, and righteous indignation. It left their already awful scents twisted and acrid.
They even set the scene to be like something out of a cheap horror film. We were in a dirt-floor basement with stone walls. The smell of dust and wet earth hung thick in the room, making me long for fresh air.
Candles were burning on every surface of the crude wooden tables that were pushed against the wall. The basement of the church was one I had a feeling I would be learning well.
My grandmother had finally snapped when i got my diagnosis. Most would've been relieved to have answers and a round of medication to help give me a normal life.
Not her.
The bishop stood at the front, his white hair wild and unruly, his eyes just as feral. He truly thought he was here for a battle between good and evil. His alpha presence was strong, broad shoulders and angry eyes focused on me.
Dumbass.
But a scary one.
If I could get the ropes off, I could knock him out and run, and put this entire place behind me. Live a new life.
I’d use their twisted image of me to scare them and truly go feral.
I could do it.
Maybe.
“Whatever you’re thinking, my little human, would be a bad idea,” Monty taunted from my peripheral as he prowled along with the shadows that loved to reside there. Dark tendrils of shadow twisted around his broad frame. He was built like a protective alpha and infused with shadows making him a sight to behold.
My imaginary friend had been around since the first hallucinations started happening. At first, he terrified me. I was barely a teen, and seeing fanged monsters that knew me better than I knew myself was more than a little unsettling.
Hence the fun nickname.
It made him less scary to me despite his looks. His glowing, blue eyes seemed to be burning with an otherworldly fire as he stared at me. He was human in shape, just much larger than your average man.
Swirling shadows covered his form, the only thing truly identifiable was his face. The shape of his skull-like face was a mix of human and bull, long horns coming out of his head.
With his cloak of black smoke, I couldn’t make out much more, but then again, I didn’t know that I wanted to.
His scent was like a storm. A hint of electricity in the air, a cold breeze, rain, and alpha spice. Just a breath of it and I felt less alone, less like I could freefall into my mind and never come out.
Despite what he looked like, Monty had been a sounding board and a voice of reason when I needed it. Depending on the situation, he could hype me up, talk me down, or reassure me I wasn’t alone… that I was his.
Now he was the only friend I had. Thanks to Grandma locking me away like some dirty little, crazy secret.
