Taken in the cell again

“Shit!”, I groaned as I opened my eyes. My head was throbbing with pain.

“Where am ......”, I froze when I looked around. I was in the cell again. Yes I knew why I was brought back again in the cell. I disrespected the Alpha himself and this time the punishment was worse.

Whoever dragged me out of the Alpha’s office when I lost consciousness made sure to chain me with silver chains. They were really cutting sores into my skin and it was really paining.

Just as I was still staring at the silver chains, I heard a door opening behind me. I heard the feet against the tiled floor, the tile floor that chilled my bare feet.

The stupid beta stepped around directly in front of me with an evil smirk on his face.

“W-What do you want?” I asked in a scratchy voice. I had barely talked after I realized that the guards here never spoke. It was pointless to waste that energy when I seemed to never have any.

He chuckled and bellowed a repulsive laugh as he slapped his knee in genuine humor. After pulling himself together he cocked his head as he looked at me seriously again.

 “Looks like you still have some life left in you, but don’t worry it won’t last long. You will not be killed yet but by the end, you will be begging on your knees for death, you will regret why you attacked me.” He said cruelly and he smirked at me. Anger stirred inside my empty gut and I glared at him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I would gladly skip to death but I assure you the moment, I get relieved, I will deal with you bastard!” I spat out and my body started to shake in pure and utter rage.

His face grew red at my outburst and he clenched the bars of my cell in his two meaty hands. A growl ripped through his throat.

“You have to address me as Beta Steven you piece of shit mutt.” He yelled at me,” And if you ever disrespect me again I’ll chain your feet up too.”

I could physically feel the waves of anger that he emitted.

Suddenly he turned and shouted down the hall,” Bring me the cart.”

I was bewildered. Cart what cart. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as a young male wolf around my age walked down the hall pushing a metal cart with his head down. I craned my head as I tried to catch a glimpse of what was on it. As soon as I did I paled.

He seriously wanted to torture me right now and he had a smirk on his face.

 Small surgical knives ranging from the size of my pinky to the size of my foot. Each blade was razor-sharp and shinny. A few vials of liquids were also there and I had no doubt that at least one was the deadly wolfsbane. To finish off the assembly was a whip that looked menacing. I started to shake. I have taken a pretty good time without being beaten.

 The bastard looked over and gave me a wide smile.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you yet.” He said as the boy who had brought the cart quickly walked away. I think I might have caught a small look of regret on his face but no one would have known. No one would stop this psychotic monster.

And no one was going to save me because this was probably the Alpha’s order. My mate.

I watched him as he took out a key from his worn jean pocket and unlocked one of the rusty cardboards. I tried to become one with the cold stone wall behind me but it was no use as he stalked near to me.

 He then went to work stationing the cart against the wall and assessing the tools before him. He started to sort through them as if he were shopping for clothes at a mall until he found the one he wanted. It was a small silver knife that was just bigger than my pinky.

“Perfect one to start with don’t you think.” He started to walk towards me until suddenly he froze. “Oh my excuse my poor manners. Did you get anything to eat today?”

I looked at him angrily. My heartbeat loudly in my chest as my eyes flitted between the knife and his face. Both made me want to throw up. Then I realized something. Oh, goddess, I was brilliant. I had no clue when or if I would make it out of here alive but as I looked at him at that moment I knew one thing for sure. This bastard will get what he deserves even if I have to drag him to hell myself.

I looked at him with all the hate I could muster and snarled my words. “Rot in hell”,

That i’mmediately made him lose his control then started to cut me.

I really tried to stay strong but the pain was so much and my screams were loud.

He just kept on laughing as he watched my blood flow down and after getting satisfied, he walked out of the cell while bragging.

Now, as I laid silently on the hard floor I tried and ignored the fresh blood that was trickling down my wrists that were cuffed in silver shackles. If it was anything other then silver I would be ok but open wound exposure to silver causes werewolves extreme pain and weakens us. Unlucky for me, Steven’s favourite metal was silver. Not only did silver give us physical pain, but it also made scars if it was exposed to our raw flesh.

I knew without looking that my body was covered in thin white scars on my stomach and thick lash marks on my back. They were layered, they where interchangeable. My body was a canvas with pictures carved into my skin. Pictures, that when depicted, were the face of anguish. I was a painting titled ‘pain and suffering’. I was a collage of torture and tears. Yet somehow I still had life left in me.

And I had to revenge.