The Found One

Chapter 3

"It's only one more day." Isaac offered.

"Fine one more day, but next time my father comes to Lux. Let him deal with all this insanity, Hell I'd take the mess at Hiems over this nonsense any day. It's all his fault anyway, stupid overprotective Alpha Kings." Rowan mumbled under his breath, stiffening his spine in preparation to head back into the dreaded dining hall. The twins' laughter shadowing him the entire way.

Izzy POV

Life had become routine for Izzy. Wake up, stare at the concrete ceiling. Breakfast, stare at the concrete wall. Dinner, stare at the concrete floor. Toss and turn on a lumpy mattress before falling asleep to dream of concrete walls and monsters. It was almost boring being a prisoner of them, the monsters of her nightmares. If it wasn't for the constant state of terror her life had become, she might have thought it was all a really long boring dream.

"Who gets abducted by monsters anyway?" Izzy asked out loud. She had taken to talking to herself a few weeks (or days – maybe months) ago. No longer caring what or if anything was listening to her, just needing something to listen to other then the random footsteps echoing faintly beyond the metal of her door. "And who gets fed and kept like a pet by the same idiots? I mean seriously what the fuck? Who does this actually happen to?"

She was currently sitting on the floor, her cutoff shorts and light tee, long ago passing the point of stained and dirty, and no longer resembled any particular or singular color, ripped, torn and blood stained, they offered next to no protection against the freezing temperatures of the cell. With the drastic changes in the last few days, Izzy had guessed that the seasons had changed around her. The last dredges of summer heat and life giving way without her even seeing. "Autumn. Perfect." She mumbled rolling her eyes, her head propped in her hand and her back resting against the cold door. She often sat like this when she wanted to talk, pretending someone sat on the other side listening, caring. "That means I've been here for at least two months. Well shit."

Her hair was matted, over the weeks of not bathing or brushing it had become a mass of knots and dreads, oily and dirty, hanging heavily around her shoulders. Wincing she pushed tendrils that had fallen forward from her face, hating the feel of them on her skin. Most of the time she tried to block the feel of her body from her mind, the bone numbing chill, the still healing cuts and scrapes, the ragged and uneven finger nails, her oily face, and general filth, but every once in an awhile they snuck in and she felt like vomiting. "Horrible nasty animals, making me live in my own filth." She cursed shuddering as she was hit by her own scent. "If I ever escape this hell, I swear to never take a shower or bath, hell I won't take washing my hands, for granted ever again. You hear that you mangy-flea-ridden creatures of Satan!?" She screamed. A rare burst of emotions coming through and coupling with a strange lack of fear in an unusual outburst. She hadn't addressed them in days, but without warning she felt a deep anger push forward. It raced through her, filling the numb hopelessness that had overtaken her, and then she was feeling again. It wasn't fear or sadness, no terror or self-pity, she was just plain fucking pissed off. "It's called a fucking shower! Maybe you like to roll around in the mud like deranged beasts, but normal non-freaks actually like to be clean!" By now she was on her feet. Fists pounding on the door, her thoughts for once not on teeth, or death, or even escape, only the single memory of soap and the distant feeling of being clean.

She was so consumed in her rage and meltdown that at first she missed it. The sound, so unexpected and alien it nearly didn't register in her overwrought head. Jumping from the door, her fists falling to her sides, she stared in terror as the lock tumbled.

The click as it released was like an explosion, thoughts of baths, soap and conditioner flew out the window, replaced with flashes of the night she had been taken. Monsters with teeth ready to tear at her life, how their black eyes had stared at her like prey, the feel as claws dug into her flesh. That door may have been keeping her locked up and captive, but it had also kept THEM out.