Psychopathic (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 29

Lenora sighed one again as she twirled in her seat just waiting for the moment her door would be flung open. She could hear the footsteps approaching her office, it was only a matter of time before it happened.

Instead, she heard a knock.

"You may come in." She told whoever it was that was knocking and didn't expect one of the newest members of their group to be walking in looking displeased with something. She adjusted her glasses and motioned for him to take a seat appreciating that he closed the door behind him. "How may I help you?"

The man was tall, rough-looking, and covered in scars. A lycan nobody wanted to cross, but Lenora wasn't at all intimidated. She just sat there relaxedly as she waited for him to speak.

"I know this place is filled with people kicked out of their packs for heinous acts and all," He started looking very disturbed and disgusted as he went on. "But there are these men here who are doing something out of anger and I don't think I am okay with that."

Lenora nodded in disinterest. People were always awful like that here.

"Care to share?"

Reluctantly, the man did.

"They've repurposed the old storage room outside into some kind of torture room." He told her as she nodded her head wondering just why she couldn't get a moment of quiet for once. Her job was to be the unofficial accountant of this place and nothing more. "They had someone in mind, and I get why they're targeting him, but... I thought you should know. They're starting now."

Leaning forward on her desk, Lenora sighed.

"You're telling me some idiots here are torturing someone out of spite right now, but you agree with their choice of target?"

The man blinked at her in dumbfound at how she casually recounted his words. "Basically, yeah."

"Any idea who?" She asked already knowing who they had in mind.

It happened frequently.

"I think they said his name's Constantine."

"Ah, I see." She leaned back in her seat linking her hands together with a thoughtful look on her face before she looked at him and noticed that he still looked very much disturbed. Not everyone here was a heartless criminal. He certainly didn't seem like one. "This isn't a pack as you know. They're free to do whatever they like. We help each other, but that doesn't mean that some won't hurt you once they feel like it."

The man shifted in his seat looking around nervously. "Isn't there someone in charge around here? This needs to be stopped."

"As I said, this isn't a pack. Every individual for himself." She shrugged hoping that she cleared up the picture of how things worked around here. "We welcome all your illicit affairs and give you a place to lay low, but that's about it. People will only do something if it benefits them here."

The man swallowed. "So we're just going to let this happen?"

Again, she shrugged her shoulders not really bothered.

"A piece of advice," She told him straightening the papers on her desk as she smiled to herself feeling entertained at the idea of Constantine being tortured by a group of angry men. "If you ever hear the name Constantine, don't get involved."

"Wasn't planning to anyway." The man mumbled despite being there in her office involving himself in an affair concerning Constantine. Perhaps he thought he'd just inform her of what was going on and she'd treat it as an anonymous tip and deal with it, but he was mistaken.

She wasn't going to do anything. It was probably already over.

"Let's pray they succeed. I am on their side." She told him already resuming her work as she sifted through the files on her left, and started writing something on the papers to her right. She was the embodiment of efficiency at that moment, and the man slowly rose from his seat understanding that she was done talking.

As he walked out the door in disbelief at the complete disregard for the wellbeing of another person, he considered that maybe this group of misfits wasn't exactly right for him. There were many things wrong with the situation he found himself in, but when he saw that the storage room's door was still closed, he couldn't stay still.

There was no denying that what he was doing was stupid.

He knew that these men would have no trouble with turning on him as well and give him the same treatment they were giving their victim, Constantine, but there was no way he wasn't going to do anything.

At least he had to try.

People were oddly nonchalant about the whole thing as he made his way to the storage room, and with one powerful push, he watched as the door slid open revealing what transpired inside.

The first thing that met his eyes was the dust flying around as streaks of sunlight sneaked their way inside lighting up the dark room, and then the smell of blood and burnt flesh hit his nose making him grimace. There was a whimper, a few gurgles, and someone's strained breathing as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Earlier that day before he went to see Lenora, he saw six men drag Constantine inside.

Now he could only see three, and only one of them was standing in the middle of the place towering over everything as the two men bled out on the floor. Whatever tools they brought to torture Constantine with were now strewn haphazardly on the floor, and chains made out of silver were still around the neck of the tall figure standing there motionlessly.

"Please, please..." The whimpering man rocked back and forth on the ground pleading for something, and it almost made him wonder what but the state of him made it obvious.

He's pleading to be shown some mercy.

This scene was not what he had expected at all, and the tall figure in the middle grabbed the chains around his neck not caring about the burning pain that came from touching something made out of silver and revealed the print of burnt flesh the chains had made on his skin.

As he watched, the well-meaning man hissed at the sight making the tall figure turn around finally noticing him.

This person was still holding the silver chains in his hands not bothered by the pain as the man got a good look at his face and met his eyes.

He realized that this was a feral unlike any other he'd seen, and he recognized his face.

"Close the door."

Slowly, the man did as told right as the feral began strangling the pleading man whose pleas turned into screams as he struggled for his life. All he knew was that he wanted no part in any of that and wished he had listened to Lenora about not getting involved.

The man sprinted away from the storage room hastily, but he couldn't help but wonder just what he had stumbled into.

Ferals are wolves who lost touch with their human side and were wildly out of control. Their crazed inhuman eyes were the first thing anyone would notice about them, and they were slaves to their animalistic instincts. Once someone becomes feral there was no going back. Everyone knows that they'd lost their minds forever and were a lost cause.

He knew what he saw.

Those were definitely the eyes of a feral that he had seen on Constantine.

But ferals don't speak.

And they certainly don't have the capacity to use a broken chain as ligature to strangle someone with. All they know is to mindlessly attack with their teeth and claws, but this was different. Even his eyes didn't have the crazed usual look that ferals possessed, they were cold, calculating, and very lucid.

No, this wasn't normal.

He couldn't help but stay a safe distance away but still watch the storage room from afar. This wasn't normal at all. Constantine was feral there was no doubt about it on his mind.

So he watched and waited, and waited, and then waited some more until the door finally opened and only Constantine walked out of there with barely any trace of burnt flesh or cuts on his person.

Instead, he only looked a bit disheveled and completely normal otherwise as he left six men dead behind him.

Any traces of the feral wolf he had seen were completely gone...