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He was quivering in fear and began to tug on the chains as if he could run away, but it was far too late for that. He made his grave, so now he'll have to enjoy being buried in it.
"Which eye would you like me to paint?"
Tonight is going to be a thrilling creation of justice.
Broken Mate And No Strings Attached
~WILLOW~
The dropof water that hits my eyelid wakes me in a rush, fear spiking through me as my eyes rapidly scan the dark space. One wrong move and I flinch in sheer pain, the silver burning into my flesh that's already wounded from the collar being around my neck for weeks.
I fight to hold in my scream. A tiny whimper is all that threatens to leave me as I hope the pinch of sound doesn't trigger another round of abuse. I remain completely still. The bruises and wounds all along my body are raw and tender while I don't dare to move my wrists or ankles that are encased in the metal that has a vendetta against my flesh.
How ironic life could be as a human who was hyper allergic to silver like the rest of the wolf race, but I was nothing but a vessel who wished a wolf would be hidden inside myself.
Begging Mother Moon to unlock her from whatever prison she's in so she can take me away from this segment of life that aims for nothing but to kill me.
I'm trapped. I've been here for who knows how long. The hours turn to days, days into weeks, and now I can't determine if I've been here for all eternity. I survived two hours of beatings before the darkness took me away, and all I wish is for it to return and take me away into its comforting arms.
To steal my soul while it was at it and deliver me to the Angel of Death so I can meet Mother Moon face-to-face and beg her forgiveness for whatever sin I've committed causing her to leave me astray in this dungeon pit.
The amount of pain I'm still dealing with begins to seep into my bones, and my tears do nothing but sting the cuts to my cheeks after crying too hard and receiving my consequence. It's only a matter of time before I’ll be all healed up, only to be broken down again until I can barely breathe and my consciousness fades once again.
The trickling anticipation of approaching danger creeps into my mind as the bits of hair that remain on my torn-up arms begin to rise. The scent of alcohol drifts to my nose, leaving me shaking uncontrollably as footsteps follow in the scent’s wake.
"Take a break."
The words have the guards announcing their approval before they rush to get away from the man who would be the bringer of nightmares. Too bad my nightmares are not dreams, but my current reality, and I only wish to call him the Boogeyman, so he’ll disappear when the morning comes.
It doesn't take long before the man in question emerges out of the darkness, leaving me to remain completely still while my wild eyes filled with tears lock onto his eerie ones that judge me.
The scent of mixed alcohol is stronger tonight, which only makes me fear the worst as he begins to chuckle in amusement.
"I beat your little boyfriend over there," the deep voice declares, referring to the cell that's behind him - the shadows hiding my only apparent friend in this madness.
Onyx Charm.
"He always causes a ruckus during nights like these, so I made sure to knock his head in a few times to ensure he remains out until the morning. You know how I hate distractions, especially interference when it comes to listening to your screams of terror."
The way his smile dons on his lips has me questioning whether or not I should beg for mercy, but he's already deciding on what weapon is best to use against me.
"You should give up on thinking he can save you," he voices in the darkness. "You're broken. That's exactly what you are. He's only interested in you because you're the only bitch down here with a pussy, but if there were two other teenagers here, he'd never look your way," he mocks in gleefulness.
He's preparing his weapons for when he's in the moment. The pause in choosing pulls him out of the great pleasure he takes in watching as my flesh sizzles red and opens up with the streams of blood that overflow onto the grim floors.
"One day the call will reach him, to the wolf that's slowly getting closer to showing itself. Then the mate bond will connect him to his destined wolf, and you'll be nothing but garbage to him. In fact, you’ll be a memory waiting to be voided entirely." That makes him giddy.
"Why would he want someone like you? Fat with those nasty curves of yours. Those pink locks you decided to dye without my permission. You should be so skinny your rib cage can show off its beauty. Those strands should remain white so everyone can assume you're a weak, elderly human who's approaching death. Maybe they would do the honors of ridding you from this world before I do."
Another chuckle before he's unlocking the gates and picking up his first weapon: a whip.
"Today's going to be a long session," he demands. "I love daylight savings. Allows the nights to be longer. The whip is made of a special silver, one that crackles against your flesh upon impact.
"You'll be a good girl tonight, now won't you, Willow?"
All I can do is whimper, which leaves him laughing again.
"Just like your weak mother. All that time wasted searching the lands for a worthy candidate and in the end, she gave me you. Pathetic."
