by Roxanne Lee
Panic filled his voice. Finally. "He'll die, you won't be back in time to save him."
I smiled, utterly sincere in my happiness."It's too late for you. Accept your fate."
I think my eyes closed for a moment, a deep breath filled my lungs and I found that place that so many searched for, heavenly in its purity. "I'm going to start with that part of you that you seem so fond of.."
His eyes flicked to mine and he showed only fear and understanding. I ripped the knife from his leg and sliced apart the shirt covered in sweat and filth. However disgusting I found it, touching the intended area would only be worse. I nicked his skin along the way and red rivulets bled their cries down his torso. They healed quickly enough but I enjoyed the pain I inflicted nonetheless.
I used my hardened claws to tear his trousers at the seam and waist, they fell in tethers to the floor, a symmetry of motion that was almost artistic in its floating path. I took his underwear in one swipe and he was left naked and vulnerable in his execution chair. He strained against his bonds and I laughed as the string cut into his skin and blood ran freely over his hands. I sounded maniacal even to my own ears and I sobered slightly to focus on the man attempting to free himself.
"You'd never get out of this room you know?"
He looked up at the girl that he'd so enjoyed destroying and I saw our final moments reflected in glassy eyes of destiny's divine will. I was assured in this moment, secure in the knowledge that this was right, this was fates predetermined course and I was following her perfectly drawn map.
I wrapped his shirt of tatters in my palm and bent down to take his dick in my hand. I was revolted and sickened, Ill with the thought of what I forced myself to touch again, but I soothed that savage revulsion with end results; the thought of taking away something that had hurt me so many times.
It was anticlimactic.
The slice of the knife bit into his skin and tore through muscle and flesh until I ended up with that organ in one hand completely detached from his body. I threw it to the side and shivered in disgust, it was more like a necessary evil then anything enjoyable although the blood that streamed in rivers from the now open wound was rather mesmerising."Well that hurt me more than it did you."
His gasping breaths were an improvement on the screams of a moment before and true astonishment filled his expression.
"Oh don't be like that, you knew I was going to cut it off."
He grimaced in utter agony and I only revelled in his suffering.
"Now that's over with I think some more scarring would work wonderfully."
I moved in closer to my clay, moulding the man I wanted to see, taking the lump of mud and kneading the material until I produced a piece artful enough for public viewing. I scoured his skin with claws, blood collected beneath my long nails. I stabbed at fleshy parts that gave way under a knife that became an extension of my hand. Blood flowed so freely his skin turned translucent and papery in its loss. Although his wounds still closed, I was making new ones faster than he could heal the previous.
I spent hours at his side. An accomplice to his demise, the truth of death under the misconception of life. He'd lived longer than he should of, a man with questionable powers stealing from those around him. I was his judgement, his last rite before his fall to fire and demon slavery. I would absolve him in death, torturous death that would give him nothing but memories of torment in the afterlife.
It was easier than I thought to keep him on the edge. I found, in my happiness his feeding slowed. I think if I'd been haemorrhaging pain and anger like he was, I'd see a marked improvement in his healing. I realised that all those years he'd kept me in such suffering must have been so that he could benefit more from such dark emotions. I was almost thankful that he had another motive for his nature, that it wasn't just because of someone's plan or his own sickness, he physically needed the pain he wrought.
I found myself crouched on the floor in the end, an ache settling into my hands from tensed muscles and repetitive movement. I stood and shook out fingers numb with strain and looked at the victim before me. I was now the culprit and he was the sacrifice, it was a full circle of lyrical dance.
His whisper broke through the blood that clouded my vision and I bent until his words became clear.
"You've lost him. You still lose, your revenge has cost you."
I smiled and took a handful of his hair, tugging until his throat was easily accessible. I dropped the knife and used my claws, those diamond sharp nails a better tool to cut through bone. "I've lost nothing."
I took his head. Carved through the tube that stopped any more words from escaping with his breath. I removed the most vital part of him, something that could not be returned and would not reattach itself to veins black in their foetid decomposition.
I stood with that head hanging from my hand and moved toward the door. I'd leave the body for those to find and take a memento for Lane and his patience.
I took one last look at the mess I'd left on the cement floor, that 'A' I'd carved on his chest when I'd escaped a rather inventive calling card that I couldn't help but grin at.
An Ending of biblical proportions, one that bathed my soul in light and freedom.
I smiled at my kill, he'd been so flawed and falsely confident. I was walking tall in my self assurance.
I'd lost nothing.
Chapter 39.
Matthew; the governor lacking confidence if not conviction, lasted all of ten seconds in the flood of men pushing and shoving through gates still only half way open. His throat caught in my jaw as he fell forwards. Those men behind him so eager to start the battle....so eager to die.
I bit through bone, without remorse, without hesitation. The rage my beast had fallen into a hailstorm of fury, one so damaging I flew from wolf to wolf, punching through breastbone, clawing through skulls. My opponents tried so hard to fight back but I had been made bigger and I had been nurtured better. I left one...ten...a hundred corpses in my wake, the pack kept coming and I demolished those too foolish to run.
My guards enclosed them in a tight grip of inescapable doom, a circle of imminent death. Rounding up the pack like herd, picking up the fleeing like cattle and throwing them back into the mix. Their fight lessened quickly, when they realised how unprepared they were, how out matched. The inadequacy of the previous Alpha so evident in their lack of skill. Four hundred wolves invaded my enclosure, their numbers were halved in an hour.
As I bathed in crimson, revelled in the red staining my skin with their crimes and failures, I caught a glimpse of Charlie nearing my father. He was held down by chains, ten large wolves guarding their prisoner. Still the man fought and strained against those restraints, roaring at the wolves hovering over him. Few man-made materials could keep my father so contained, it seems these governors had a few tricks up their sleeves.
I crushed a wolf's skull between my hands, claws sinking into skin and solid bone. Black blood of iniquitous souls running free and feral between my vicious fingers.
Lane was going to need a new pack, this one would be extinguished. Fortunately the females and children had not been roped into this false war. We were killing their mates though, killing their fathers and brothers. He was going to have enough problems with his appointment already, it was probably a good thing he wasn't here to share in their destruction.
A wolf charged at me from ten feet away. A sadistic grin contorted my animal's face, a monster that killed indiscriminately, a demon born from purgatory. I ripped that wolf apart, his limbs spread on the ashen ground, arterial spray poured like acid rain and covered my savage Wwlf in a bloody shower. I tore my mark through the crowd, my guards tightening that circle to meet in the middle, running over bodies falling as they moved, reducing that pack to ashes at their feet.
I took a breath as the fighting came to an end, stragglers crying for freedom and forgiveness as they ran for the wall.
No forgiveness.
No mercy.
They were caught and
swiftly beheaded as their cowardice shook their shrinking frame, their human pushing forth in an attempt to live past this night. It was fruitless, there would be no survivors.
I tipped my head to the sky, the moon shone bright and luminous in her full face, casting judgement on those that betrayed, giving light to massacres of mastery. I let that breath out in a violent roar, letting my men celebrate their victory, calling wolves to sing a song of triumph with their leader.
Charlie strode through the gate, my father still wrapped in chains walking stiffly beside him. One angry governor in each large hand, dragging their bruised bodies over their dead comrades. I walked towards them, my wolf fixated on the bleeding men in his hands.
My father huffed as I stood before them, a continuous growl vibrating my chest. "Son, could you possibly get me out of these fucking chains before you kill the only men who know how?"
His voice cut through the haze that took over all humanity within me and refocused my attention on the man still attempting to snap his bound torso. I snatched one of the governors from Charlie and grunted at him to do my bidding, his small voice was hesitant and reluctant until I snarled in his face and saliva dripped from my fangs in an obvious threat. He whispered words of old chanting and I shivered at the slimy feel of dark magic releasing constraints.
My father sighed in appreciation, "Thank Christ, those bloody chains burnt like hell."
I looked at him and saw marks striped across his skin, his shirt melted away and black burns like claw marks running across his torso. No doubt they would not heal as they should and would leave permanent scarring, I sighed within my beast and my eyes turned hazy once more.
My mother was going to kill me.
I took the governor in one large fist and roared in his face before opening my jaws to bite his screaming head off.
My father coughed beside me, "Would you mind?" He held a hand out, "I'd rather like to remove it myself."
I grumbled and threw the man in the air for my father to catch and watched as his claws burst free and sank into weakened skin as he caught the snivelling man. I gloried in his violence as he took a life quickly and efficiently, my wolf approving of his sires brutal effectiveness.
Charlie's other hand released the remaining governor and he slumped on the ground glaring up at his last rites.
"It's not over," he sneered, mutinous till the end.
He had a name; Nathaniel, one that would be forgotten on this night. I gave a nod to Charlie and he smiled in response, taking his sword from the strap across his chest the only one of us, other than my father, currently in human form. The man on the ground knew his time was at an end and made a last ditch attempt to escape. His feet were a flurry on the rusted grass as he crawled to a stand and slid on the settling frost. His arm shot out in one single motion and a shining blade caught the moons glow as it's hilt buried itself in my father's stomach.
Roars filled the camp and both myself and Charlie grabbed a hold of the fool scrambling for freedom. Charlie's beast burst through human skin, his sword dropping instantly as claws replaced moulded steel. Our animals had a moment of demanding dominance, each tugging on the body in our grip. We tore the man in half, neither willing to give up the prey bleeding and screaming from claws buried deep into skin. His death stopped our struggle and we both dropped the piece of governor we had, thrown to the floor, forgotten and discarded like rotting trash.
The doctor was waiting surrounded by guards and he moved with an efficiency only medical professionals seemed to have. I was grateful for his care of my father, my mother was a vengeful women when it came to the man now being helped to the small hospital near the gym.
Duncan appeared trailed by Sam moments later as I stood over a barely moving wolf, twitching in his throes of death, stilling as I removed his precious head.
"Well... Jus' 'bout killed everyone didn' ya Captain?"
I scowled at Sam and grunted in a beasts response. I'd left a few with their heads still attached, two to be exact, although their hearts were another matter.
"Dun know why ya face so miserable, woulda thought ya worked all tha' ou' by now." His face screwed up as he looked from the headless wolf on the floor to me standing over him. "Think he dead Captain.....you can probly' stop killin' him now."
Yes the wolf was definitely dead, the grounds of my camp were littered with similar bodies; headless corpses of rotten, shifted men. The battlefield was lit from above by floodlights chasing the darkness away. The artificial light showed a scene of conflict so brutal that the men standing, the guards worn yet still burning off that thumping adrenaline, were covered in pieces of those they'd slaughtered.
My wolf had yet to recede, the animal holding onto the reigns he'd taken, forcing my limbs to stay in his oversized figure until he was satisfied with the destruction before him. I doubt it would ever be enough, so enchanted by the woman he strove to impress that there could never be enough retribution for the harm that'd been done.
Duncan walked away to guards slowly shifting to human once more. He gathered men to drag bodies and limbs to burn on a pile. Each governor though would swing, hang suspended in full view, show the world how defeated they were.
"Ya know, she be back soon, migh' be able ta make her like ya sorry ass again."
Sam’s deep accent, mixed with cultures from places he'd lived, soothed a beast forlorn from loss. Loss of face to the mate chosen for him, loss of heart to the future he'd once seen so clearly. The massive wolf's head shook back and fore in the negative, we had both lost hope.
Sam chuckled and I snapped my head up at his laughter. "Didn' think I eva' see tha great Captain so defeated."
He lost his huge grin as soon as my eyes met his. "Snap ou' of it boy! She deserve more than you givin' up, she deserve a lot more. Put ya man pants on an' get ya woman." He huffed as he walked away, shaking his head as he called to the dogs sniffing around at the stained grass. "God damn wolves go' their heads stuck up their ass, couldn' do nuthin' withou' me."
His mutterings continued all the way into the house and I've no doubt he meant me to hear every last one of them. I was left staring at empty space for a long time, thinking about that old man and his words. He was right, she did deserve a lot more, and maybe it's about time I gave her everything instead of half of me. Charlie was competent enough, a wolf so alike my own it was a wonder he even deigned to follow me. He would be fine filling in for a while, now the governors had gone and Arya had finished what she started.
Maybe she'd give me that one chance after I told her everything, after she had all the secrets and I lay an open book before her. And if she didn't... maybe I'd just follow her anyway.
My wolf glimpsed a tiny spark, hope glittering within a labyrinth of darkened memories and sullied futures. He pounced on that spark, gripped it with claws of steel and will of iron. He would not let go, not until she killed all optimism and slaughtered all dreams.
First though, he was going to that hospital. And he would watch and wait and stand guard. He would stay motionless beside his father until the man recovered from that knife in his stomach. He would wait patiently and then not so patiently.
When the name fell from his sires lips, he would stalk that marked man, torture the betrayal out of the treasonous dissident.
Present the rebels severed head to his woman. A gift of apology to the mate he'd failed.
Chapter 40.
We entered the camp by the front gate. The crowd we'd left behind had disappeared as if they'd never been. An eerie silence smothered the grounds, still and soundless as death, hard and unyielding as a frozen Arctic plain. A small whisper of creaking the only noise disturbing this hush, a break in the blackout, a rebel in the absence of sound.
The grounds were stained in blood, a rusty red paint laying footprints to follow. We stepped through the front gates quickly before they swiftly shut behind us, Lane once more holding his palm to the outer wall and grinning with achievement when the iron moved at his command. I looked up
as we entered, the sun rising to the east casting a bright glare over the bodies creaking in the wind.
I stared, frozen in time. Fourteen headless figures, blooded and clawed, hung limply from several poles in the courtyard, scarecrows chasing the preying vultures away. The smell of burnt flesh made breathing hard and charred smoke clung heavily to my lungs. I flicked a look at Lane and saw awe on his face, a twisted grin showing his joy and light gleaming in his ashy eyes.
"They started...without me."
I sighed at him. He was crazier then a box of frogs.
A black car pulled in behind us, I startled when the engine purred and stalled, so entranced by the macabre sight before me I'd ignored every sense that I'd become so reliant on. By Lane's relaxed stance and the automatic entry the gates allowed, I guessed the car was a known visitor. I frowned at him when he cursed and looked down at himself, brushing away bits of mud and forest debris clinging to his trousers.
"What are you doing?"
His grey eyes lifted to mine and winced, "Katherine."
As if that was an explanation. The car doors opened and I turned at the subtle, sweet perfume the vehicle released. The woman the scent belonged to could only be described as beautiful. Long shining black hair on a statuesque figure of nearing six feet, strong and sure in her stance. She stepped elegantly towards us on long, athletic legs encased in expensive black, fitted trousers and stiletto heeled boots. She lifted startlingly blue eyes to me with a joyful, regal smile before narrowing them on Lane. I caught a slight nervous twitch from the blonde and my frown deepened.
As she stopped in front of us her eyes flicked to the swinging bodies and back before she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Always was overly dramatic."
Lane coughed a laugh before straightening and lowering his head towards her in greeting."Katherine."
Her gaze ran from his blonde hair all the way down to his mud encrusted boots, at which she crinkled her nose. Lane's feet moved slowly behind each other, tapping on the ground as he attempted to surreptitiously remove the dirt clinging to his shoes.