Twin Moon - Chapter 199 - Eight Years Ago
***Warning. Contains depictions of torture***
Whiskey.
I hate this place. I hate this smell. The stench of wet dog and fear. It’s repugnant. When someone dies suddenly, they leave behind the stench of their last thoughts. I've come to find that most of the time those thoughts are ones of fear. I hate the smell of it. It's what comes after, that I like the most. The scent of death. Blood, mixed with pain and a hint of helplessness, all thrown together with the scent of decaying flesh. That is the smell I like. That is what I want to be able to smell all day. If I could, I would infuse the horrendous sent into a perfume and wear it daily. The bringer of death, carrying with her the scent of your doom. Sounds good doesn’t it.
This tedious task is starting to wear on my patience. Proven so by my rush to get through this damned village. I usually love the chase, the thrill of scaring the life out of the mangey mutts, before I literally take their lives from them. But lately the excitement is dwindling. I'm getting more and more frustrated, angry even. I have never had to work this hard before, and I'm growing bored of it. No one wants to talk. Even in the face of their death, they all remain silent. Tenacious little fuckers these Weres. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. I will get what I came for sooner or later. And they will die, all of them, eventually. I'll make sure of it.
I walked through the deserted village and gazed about the small forest space. I can’t believe that these creatures live like this. Tiny little huts in the middle of the forest. Some of them looked to be powered by generators, others seemed to have no electricity at all. They live so removed from civilisation, so rough and rogue. I understand why. It's so that their existence remains hidden from the humans. But like this? They couldn’t manage something a little more civilized. Either way, this is my nightmare. I did my time in the dark and squaller. Never again. Now, I avoid it the best I can. I would much more prefer the few luxurious things this shitty life has to offer. Fancy cars, fancy hotels, the works. I have my very own little stash of items that I've collected over the years. Just little things I have found along the way. A Faberge Egg, a gold jewel incrusted crown, multiple pieces of diamond and precious stone jewellery. Apparently, people get really sentimental about their belongings, they pass them along to their kids and all that crap. So pitiful. But it worked out alright for me. Now, I have all of their precious little family heirlooms. I like to consider it payment. Along with all my little knick-knacks, I have more cash than I could ever spend in this lifetime. I've grown accustomed to the high life, and I will never go back to the scum. I would never choose to live like these creatures do, at least not voluntarily.
I fucked up on this one. In my haste to get what I came for, a few of the mongrels got away. That will probably come back and bite me in the ass at a later date. But I will punish myself for it later. I picked one of the better looking houses, the biggest, cleanest looking one. I pushed open the door and paused in the doorway, letting my eyes shut and focusing on my hearing. I could hear the wind rustling through the trees and the sound of my own heartbeat. Nothing else. Whoever lived here is either gone or laying out in the village, dead. I headed in and found the kitchen space. This must be the Alpha’s residence. It's too nice to belong to anyone else. The kitchen is still a crap heap, but it’s big-ish, nicely decorated, and most importantly, it's fully stocked. I helped myself to the cupboards and got to work making a proper meal. Something I've been missing out on the past couple of days. Once I was content with the overfilled plate of bread, cured meat and a bunch of different kinds of chutneys, I went and made myself at home on the decent sized lounge chair. I stuffed the food into my mouth as I looked around at the heavily decorated walls. Were themed memorabilia was placed in every possible place it could fit. Paintings, carvings, tapestries, all of it. It was like a heavily invested Were fanatic spewed up in here. Disgusting. One item in particular caught my attention, as I honed my gaze in on it, I was thrown back into my memories.
**Eight years ago.**
I sat in the decked out electric chair, wearing nothing but my underpants and a crop top. Freezing cold air was blowing through the only window in the concrete room, a small 40cm by 60cm open block with steel bars across it. The icy temperatures from the thick blanket of snow and the ice-covered trees outside had turned the room into a freezer. I was shaking uncontrollably with the nonstop shivers shooting through my young body. My forearms were stinging from the lashes, but I could do nothing to sooth them. My wrists were locked in place by the frigid metal cuffs. The steel bit into my skin each time I tried to move, so I had to stay still. My ankles were also locked in place, along with my waist and head. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. The shackle around my forehead hand screws and padding on it, meaning it kept me from being able to turn away. All I could do was close my eyes and scream. I managed to stop the tears, thankfully. Only a few got loose, but it was enough to earn a punishment. I'm glad I stopped myself from crying more, I wouldn't have been able to take another lashing. The skin of my arms was bright red and bleeding. Any more hits and I think they may have hit the bone.
The bright light of the projector screen flickered over my face. The same horrendous pictures would flick through quickly, over and over again, until finally landing on just one, long enough for me to study the depicted scene closely. The same process, going on for hours now. The flickering stopped and a picture of a mangled wolfs body appeared on the screen. Its head was partially severed, and all of its legs were bent in the wrong direction. There were gaping wounds and patches of missing fur scattered over its body. The amount of blood was sickening. Blood was covering every inch of its remaining grey fur, and all of the ground around it. A gentle warmth spread over the chair I was sitting in, momentarily easing the shaking of my tiny bones. For just a moment I could relax the tension of my jaw, just long enough to take a breath without the sting of the icy air burning down my throat. A new picture appeared. This time it was of a woman with her arms wrapped around the neck of a large brown wolf. She looked happy. A soft smile was on her face, and she had her eyes closed. The wolf was pressing its head into her chest as they stood together. It was a nice picture. Woman and beast, together in love and happiness. A burst of pain shot through me, coming from the collar around my neck. Shoots of electricity flowed through my little body, as I shook and screamed through the torture. Everything hurt, it was like I was on fire. The need to run, or roll, or shake it off was overpowering, but pointless, I was pinned in place. I’m not going anywhere. I screamed out, my small voice filling the room in a high pitched shrill. Eventually the electricity stopped, and the pictures began flickering again.
I breathed heavily through the pain, forcing the tears to keep away. Just as I was able to catch my breath, the pictures stopped again on another grotesque image of a dead wolf. Only this time, the wolf was hanging upside down from a pole. Its bottom half was that of a wolf, but the top half, the arms and chest, was human. The human head sat on a spike next to the body, only it had large fangs poking out of its open mouth. It was gross, sad, and scary. It made me want to cry again. I closed my eyes tight and tried to shake my head.
“Stop it. Please stop it” I pleaded. Even with my eyes closed I could feel some tears forming behind the lids. A hand collided with the side of my face, forcing my forehead to bang against the steel bar that was holding it down. I opened my eyes again and the tears fell. He laughed. He sounded both happy and really creepy.
“Are those tears?” he chuckled and wiped his finger over the wet streak on my cheek,
“No!” I screamed,
“I’m not crying, I promise, I'm not crying” I begged, but it was too late. The whip came down over my arms in a swift strong movement. The thin leather whip sliced through the skin, and I screamed again. I tried to look down at my left arm without moving my head. A fresh streak of blood trickled from the new slash.
“What’s the rule?” he yelled. He was bending down in front of me, his face only inches away from my own.
“One tear, one lash” I yelled back, trying my best to keep my voice sounding strong. Even though all I wanted was to cry.
“Again!” he roared, his hot breath bashed against my face as he screamed,
“One tear, one lash” I screamed back loudly.
“What are you?” he demanded,
“A monster”
“What are you?”
“A monster!”
“And what do monsters not do?”
“Monsters don’t cry” I yelled as loud as I could.
“And why don’t monsters cry? Tell me beast, what’s the rule?”
“One tear, one lash” I repeated again. My voice was becoming hoarse from the screaming and the cold. But I was used to this. It was a daily occurrence. The lash came down again across my arms. I bit into the side of my cheek to hold in the scream. It didn’t work. A strangled cry fell from my clenched teeth as the taste of blood filled my mouth. He grabbed my chin and leaned in close. So close that I could smell the fresh tea on his breath.
“Watch the screen” he snapped. He let go of my chin and backed away from me, letting the screen come back into view. The pictures began to change in quick succession, flicking through the gruesome images. It stopped again on another wolf, its belly was cut open and its guts were spilled out on the ground. The chair warmed again, and for a brief second, I wasn’t cold. Then it changed to a small group of giant wolves, all standing together with their big teeth facing at the camera. The collar whirled to life and the pain shot through me once again. I trembled and shook violently as I screamed in pain. I'm not going to be able to hold out too much longer. The electricity stopped and I took a large gasp of air. I was panting and sweating, but no tears fell. I think dying would be easier than this. I wouldn’t even care how painful the death was, as long as it resulted in me not being here any longer. I would take that over this. No question. The pictures started to flick through again, giving me time to calm my quick breathing and racing heart. The screen stopped on a pile of charred remains in the snow. It was still smoking, and fresh blood was all over the ground. From what I could tell, the bodies were both humans and wolves. I bit down on the inside of my cheek again, drawing more blood. Then, I closed my eyes. No more. I didn’t want to see any more. A fresh crack of the whip and sharp pain across my arms, made me scream out.
“Open your eyes Whiskey” he demanded. I held them closed tighter and tried to shake my head, but it couldn’t move from under the shackle.
“Last chance little beast, open your fucking eyes and watch the screen” he roared,
“No more, please” I pleaded, but my begging was only met with another whip across my arms. I tried to thrash in my seat. A desperate attempt to free myself, but all that accomplished was more pain on my restricted limbs.
“I warned you” he hissed angrily.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
