The Luna Cure

ONE

It was raining. That I knew.

Even with the lack of windows or doors, the smell of rain was pungent in the basement of the house. We hadn't had rain in a while. It's probably fall now.

I didn't know how many falls I had spent in this basement. But I knew I wouldn't be spending many more. The witch had taken Wendy a few weeks ago, leaving me the oldest girl here.

The oldest was always the next to go. The two other girls were so young that it wasn't even a competition, although I had no clue how old I was. Last time I checked, I was nine.

From my height and the measurements of my chest, I could no longer sell that I was nine.

There were no calendars. She wasn't here regularly enough to allow us to keep track, and the television never have enough information to let us know. Every now and then we'd get the occasional date, but only ever if it was a special occasion in the lives of the Royal Werewolves.

That's all we were told about. Every time the witch came down, it was to inform us of the wolves. I wondered how they would feel to know all these girls are kept away from society and only fed information about their lives. I'll bet it would creep them out.

But I guess I should've taken the rain as a bad omen. That is, after all, a common theme in all the books I read. Which, down here in the basement, is the only thing I can do.

After the newscaster notified us of the exciting birthday party the werewolf kingdom had had last night for the queen, it had gone to a commercial.

Batilda decided to grace us with her presence then.

She flew open the cellar door, her hands holding steaming bowls of broth, and that malicious smile on her face that only meant one thing:

One of us was leaving.

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine, but I didn't look up from my book. When I had first arrived, Batilda scared me to no end. The sound of her footsteps would make me jumpy and leave me up at night.

But now?

Now she was simply a demon I had never been able to evade. When I first arrived here, I would never have dreamed of escaping on my own. I was too young to even think of doing something like that, because my hope of someone rescuing us was so strong. But I was too old to beg the older girls to do something. From the lack of light in their eyes, I knew they had given up years ago.

I think I see that same look in mine now, although it kills me.

Now, Batilda was someone who I wasn't afraid of, but I never even thought of escaping from. It just wasn't possible. I had tried a few times over the years, or I assume years. I had nightmares about the outcome.

Batilda set down the two bowls of broth for each of the younger girls, Daisy and Millie. Both were above fourteen, but they were still the babies of the bunch.

However, Batilda usually brought food for all of us, which only cemented my thoughts.

I wasn't staying here any longer.

I wasn't surprised by this. The girls never stayed past a certain time, and I knew mine was running out. And although I should be scared of the death that no doubt waited for me, maybe it was better than never being able to speak or leave a basement.