Dying Is The Only Way To Be Free

"That boy called me mama." The mad she-wolf screamed like a banshee, pulling my silver strands angrily.

"Get off me! What have I done to you? I don't know you!" I looked around the room, silently pleading to anyone to help me.

Raucous laughter filled my ears in response.

This female is a pack member that lost her only son years ago and lost her mind as a result.

She was locked up and put under my father's watch but I never expected that they would let her loose on me.

"That's right. This bitch killed your son and" - his voice dropped to a whisper "I heard she ate him alive." My younger stepbrother, Logan, threw his head back, laughing.

She let out an ear-splitting screech,"I will tear you up alive and search your insides for my son till I find every piece of him, you evil witch!"

She clawed and tore at my skin wailing that I must give her back her son.

If she was determined to add more scars to my extensive collection, now she was hellbent on sending me to an early grave. 

She picked me up and flung me like a ragged doll across the room and I banged my head into the glass case Father kept his prized hunting knife.

A sharp sting of pain shot through my skull and I felt something warm trickling down my face.

Blood. The metallic stench of blood filled my nostrils.

She was bent on killing me.

My wolf, Seneca, struggled to come out to defend me but I was too weak.

"Help me. Help me, please. Logan, Seth, please. I promise. I promise not to do that again. I promise not to even drink water without your permission. Please, I'm begging. She's going to kill me." Tears mixed with blood and sweat as I begged desperately.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It was my fault, please. Please stop her." My eyes were clouded over with pain and I sobbed like a baby on my knees, too tired to move.

Logan sighed, "Seth?" He motioned his head in the direction of the mad she-wolf whose fangs were already deep in my back.

Seth got up and pulled her off of me, holding her firmly. She flailed around in the air, her claws unsuccessfully seeking my face this time but her strength was no match for his. Seth was the strongest omega in our pack. He was built like a mountain.

"Now, now, Freya. You're making us look bad." He bent down till he was eye level with me.

"Oh common, cheer up. I hate to see you cry. You know that this is just a silly game we play. The thing however is that you -" he tilted my chin sharply, his malicious smile suddenly disappeared, 

"- you're ruining it for us. You're spoiling the fun, Freya, and you know how much I hate that." He dropped my chin with so much force that I hit the floor on my bleeding side.

"I'm quite disappointed, though. Where are your powers?" He made air quotes at the "powers" part.

He gasped, "No! Don't tell me that you feel like we're too small to handle it? You really think that lowly of us?"

I knew what was coming so I started to beg earnestly, "No, no, no. I swear that's not the case. Please Logan. Please. Seth, tell him. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please." I had run out of tears and my whole body jerked as I heaved dry sobs.

He stood up in his full height and ordered, "Get up." 

I scrambled to get up but he swiped his feet beneath mine and I fell forward, blood spouting out of my mouth.

"I said, GET UP and stand up straight."

I struggled to move but the pain was unbearable.

Fresh tears welled up in my eyes and I wished for the millionth time today that my father killed me together with my mother as a child.

I was a crumpled mess on the floor and black spots had started appearing in my vision. I had lost too much blood and I felt enough pain to bring an entire nation to its knees yet…

Yet, I couldn't fucking die. No matter what they did or how much I prayed, I just won't die.

I couldn't even kill myself because even for that I would need permission - trust me I tried but I got beaten mercilessly instead of killed.

So you see, my life is really not mine. I simply exist. Barely.

"What are you bloody rascals doing?" Heavy footsteps announced the presence of Beta Derek, who was my father, unfortunately.

His deep voice bounced through the walls of the wooden shed which also mostly served as a makeshift torture chamber for me.

Logan smiled up at his father.

Our father.

Beta Derek, the second-in-command to Alpha Pytor, our pack leader, towered above most werewolves at an impressive height of seven feet and two inches.

"We were just having a little fun. Nothing wrong with that."

He walked up slowly to Logan like he would approach a cornered enemy and stood directly in front him, staring icily into his eyes.

A second passed. Then forty.

Logan broke his gaze first and he turned to Seth who was still holding the mad she-wolf. She was hanging limply from his hands and foaming at the mouth.

"Drop her." His voice wavered slightly, and he looked sick, like he was going to puke.

Father had that effect on people. Every dreaded encounter leaves you visibly shaken. He was a predator through and through.

She landed with a thud and Logan turned back to Father, his face staring down intently at his feet. Whatever he was looking at must have been very interesting.

"Twenty seconds. That's all you have to clean up this -" he looked at me, " - mess."

Logan began to object, "Father, I'm sure she can do that herself. After all, she is nothing but a - -"

"Twenty seconds. NOW." He thundered. Even I that was badly wounded in several places flinched at his voice.

The mad werewolf must have heard the noise too because she started to stir awake. In one swift move, Father snapped her neck.

"Preserve her. When the demons arrive, she'll fetch a good price. Hurry up lads, the match begins in one hour and everywhere must be set."

He started to leave but stopped at the exit. "Tell your mother to dress her up well enough. I need her to fetch me money tonight."

"And I swear by The Moon Mother, if she's not able to fetch me money tonight, consider yourselves dead. All of you. Tell that to your mother." He left the room and slammed the door behind him.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Seth looked around the room. There was blood on the walls, the floor, Father's hunting gear, Logan's shoes, Seth's clothes. Everywhere.

My blood.

It looked like a drunk werewolf went on a killing spree.

Logan nodded gravely at the impassive look on Seth's face, "That's right, Seth, but you heard the old man. Let's get to work."

Do you know what my offence was?

I didn't taste the porridge I cooked before I served it to them.

Why did I do that? Because I was forced to starve for saying no to Alpha Pytor's sexual demands.

Seth kicked my prone, bleeding form on the floor. I groaned weakly, "Wakey wakey sunshine. Rise and shine, bitch."

I blacked out.