Werewolf Academy

Chapter 10

I didn't know if it would help or not, but the acid in the back of my throat agreed with my decision.

It wasn't my fault as I started wandering the large place again, it was sort of starting to become a bad habit of mine to be honest.

Next thing you know, I'll be called the ghost of this place. Wandering the halls at night, looking for something to screw up.

My eyes dragged across the red walls, darkened by the night sky, the glass ceiling allowing the moon's light in.

This place was so big, that every time I went through these halls, I'd end up somewhere I shouldn't be.

The paintings on the walls indicated that this place was a lot older than everyone led on. The vases looked expensive and the occasional flowers were dead, yet held their beauty with an iron grip.

The walls eventually changed from the red plush like walls, to more like concrete blocks, with a dark grey faded color.

My gaze lifted back up to the bight full moon, shining high above the sky with the silence of house.

I continued to walk through the hall, turning a corner every so often, taking in the dungeon appearance.

Maybe I should burn this damn place down?

Holy poop!

I think I'm an alcoholic!

Wait.......that means I can drink with a purpose?

I shook my head, I defiantly didn't understand one thought I just had.

The sudden large wooden door, chained with a strong metal outline to the keypad for a code.

Each door smelled older than the earth itself, and the stench of rotten blood was soaked into the atmosphere.

I clutched the milk to my chest, the only humanity in this place, taking cautious steps and looking around.

This was a dungeon after all, and many things could go wrong. I could kill someone! Or worse! I could freaking rape them!

After all, I was a proud alcoholic. I could do whatever I pleased.

My eyes scanned all the door, yet landed on the second to last one, lingering there.

It had a distinct scent, one more bloody than the others, and a lot fresher. Yet it wasn't the smell of blood that caught my interest, dragging me towards it.

It was the person the blood had come from.

I stood in front of the large door, staring at the keypad.

What the hell was up with these?

Who puts a keypad locked door, on a wooden door for crying out loud!

These people must be idiots, I thoughts laughing inside.

My fingers grazed the keypad, doing their own little dance on top on it.

I typed in Uncle's name, it clearly flashing red.

I even tried Carol's name, the head guard, and the right hand man.

I kicked the door in frustration.

Why wouldn't it open already!

What possible password could Uncle have put? Something simple?

I had one more try remaining before it locked me out.

What does my Uncle love the most other than being a controlling butt?