Property of a Gordon

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Weeks. That's how long I had been in this hellhole.

My body gave out and succumbed to the blackness from the severe beating I'd suffered on the first day. After, they must've injected me with something to make me shift since I hadn't done so willingly. Because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a cage, pressed up against a sickly looking wolf.

The cages were much worse than they'd looked from the outside. No one let us out regularly, so the stench of sweat and urine built up and became tangible in the worst way possible. I'd gotten used to the horrid smell over the few weeks, but I still shuddered every now and then.

The wolves weren't in good condition either. They were very lethargic, only moving when Tamer threatened to beat them again in a low, bone-chilling voice. There were strands of fur covering the bottom of the cage, drifting down like snow. Everyone was slowly losing fur, bald spots varying. I could also see the outline of ribs on several of them.

I was in better condition than most, but I was slowly deteriorating and becoming more like them. My once endless energy was draining out until all I wanted to do was sleep and never wake up. My once pristine white fur was mangled and now casted a yellow tint. Underneath the thinning fur, there were bruises as big as your palm that had come from the frequent beatings. They blossomed and bloomed all over my aching body. I was sure I had a broken bone too, judging by the pain that revealed itself every time I shifted my position in the cage.

Tamer was, well, the only word to describe Tamer was cruel. He was unusually consistent for someone so old; I'd give him that. The beatings happened daily around the same time, sometimes twice if I became unlucky that day. Most of the times I "deserved" the second beating because I would fight back by snapping my teeth at Tamer to keep him at bay. But there were days when I would just lay there and take it, too weak to do anything else.

Those days I wished for Death himself to relieve me.

The "trapping" of werewolves was something I'd heard about. It was something every wolf had heard about. The tale was a legendary ghost story. It scared the hell out of us, but none actually believed it happened.

But our parents all believed it, which is why werewolves were so scarce and nearly impossible to find. It was like trying to find the wolf in the sheep's skin. We'd managed to blend in with the humans and keep our wolves at bay, out of the moon's caressing reach. We'd learned to blend in so well we sometimes forgot about our animalistic side.

But I'd made the careless mistake of a prideful teenager. I'd been too naïve and arrogant. I had wanted to be right, just like always. But I'd never been so wrong in my life.

My friends and I had been out near the forest, goofing off and messing around like the bunch of rebels we thought we were. We weren't allowed to go near the forest, much less actually enter it. Our parents had forbidden us, telling us ghost stories each time about someone who'd been foolish enough and never returned. Going into the forest was too tempting for our wolves is what they told us. Why bother taking a risk that wasn't needed?

The forest was where the humans supposedly set up extravagant traps for us. When they told us the stories, they'd tell us about the human hunters who would crouch in the bushes with hungry eyes for days just to catch a single wolf. None of us had actually believed them, like I mentioned earlier.

So when my best friend dared me to sprint through the jungle of trees and back, I had just snorted. I told him that anyone could do that, even a toddler. I'd asked him if he remembered who I was and asked him to make it harder. So he dared me to run through the forest not as a human, but as a wolf.

I remember how quiet all of us got after the dare slipped out of his mouth. We were barely sober, straddling the fence between a clear and hazy mind. But we could still grasp how dangerous it was to take the dare. Well, we could only grasp it for a few seconds.

That's when someone muttered about it being a legend. No way was it actually true. Werewolves couldn't have been so dense about humans as to try and reveal themselves to the lowly humans. Even if it had been true, humans couldn't be that dedicated. Who would stay in a forest for days on end, grudgingly expecting to go home empty-handed? So everyone started egging me on, forgetting about their moment of sobriety.

The next thing I knew I was soaring through the forest with a stuttering heart as my paws hit the soft ground. I started enjoying the run, enough to let out a heartfelt, elated howl. That was my second mistake.

Abruptly, there was a net flying over me and then landing right on me. I tried to run faster, but I only tripped, entangling myself further. Then I struggled and caused the net to tighten around me. I started to realize around then that the more I fought with the net, the stricter it became around me.

Unfamiliar voices started shouting and yelling in every direction, scaring me out of my mind. In that moment, I found out what the true meaning of fear was. A once thought fable was becoming real and happening to me. I was able to see figures now, see their glowing, taunting smiles. They were hooting and cheering right before I felt a prick on my side and blacked out.

I woke up in the van, surrounded by guards. I'd been the first one they'd captured out of the five wolves that would fill the van. I must've shifted back while I was out because I was covered in a thick, black coat which I assumed was provided by one of the numerous guards. Slowly, the van filled with other wolves who looked almost as terrified as I felt. That's when I ended up here in this torturing cage.

Right now, I would have given anything to be hesitant enough to say no to the dare. I would have given anything to be back at home in my comforting, spacious bed. But I didn't have the luxury.

I could hear a pair of thundering footsteps right before Tamer's grisly face appeared in the room. His sickening eyes slowly traveled around the room, looking for his next prey, before they managed to settle on me. A menacing grin made its way onto his face and I could feel my heart rate picking up its pace rapidly.

"There you are, princess. Are you ready for your leash training?" He asked as if he were talking to an overgrown dog. I just bared my teeth in reply, knowing it wouldn't affect Tamer while the other two wolves in our tightly packed crate started whining as he took his time coming closer to us.

I backed away as much as I could before I hit the cage bar and was smothered in between the other two wolves. I started growling as a last defense, watching Tamer's every move.

"Do you know what happens when we've finished this?" Tamer asked rhetorically as he knelt down, looking at me with piercing eyes. "You're going to be given to a guard. They'll use you to kill and maim-nothing more, nothing less. I think it'll suit you perfectly," he said, showing me his decaying teeth. My growls just grew louder, and I didn't budge.

Tamer's eyes went from amused to cold in a second flat before he pulled out a taser from behind his back. "I knew I'd need this," he muttered before the taser pressed against my skin lightly, buzzed, and then I was out.