The Wolf Society

Chapter 1: Dusk is Coming

Note: I was eleven when I wrote most of this. Don't judge me 😂😂😂

        The night will find you, and when it does, it'll swallow you whole."
My pale icy blue eyes darted open, lashes spreading apart, yet yearning to be back together, to be at peace.

Peace was an impossible, unthinkable imagination created by a hoard of laughing 2 year olds. And that was that.

My arms ungratefully hoisted the upper half of my body up. Unruly, quite messy black hair found its way around me, swaying in the midst of my movement. Tan, and yet unhealthy skin ached with the want to see the light again. Despite my position in such a place, my figure had remained, although slowly slipping away from me as well.
I suppose everything was slowly slipping away.
They called me great, once. They called me heir, once. They called me important once. Now, I was nothing. Absolutely and positively nothing besides skin. My mind had slipped. My sanity had slipped. And yet, some part of me wanted to live, wanted to fight back against Arden's forces of death, my own kingdom, claiming me now, even after I had ran.
However, I did not want it back. I would take my same course of actions in a second. I would leave behind my abusive father, who would rather call me his beautiful queen, or more straightforward, wife. Yes, I would leave him in a second for this. Fighting for a meal. Facing death for a slice of bread. Sleeping on the cold ground in a alley, waiting for a drunk man to come along, only to knock him unconscious, or stab him with my only weapon, a small kitchen knife used for chopping carrots, not slicing skin and flesh. I hated them all. Every last god damned person on this pathetic planet they called Earth. I pray they rot in a hole. For now, I was here.
Prison is cold. It's depressing as hell. And that's that.
My straightforward attitude in such a situation was laughable. I was to die in half an hour. I was a ticking clock. And yet, I didn't care. Maybe this was mercy being granted to me by the gods. I don't know, I don't care.
So I sat in in my pile of straw, nibbling at my bread, my last meal, as the clock in my head ticked, ever so quickly. What was half an hour came down to a few pathetic minutes left for me in the dank, unwelcoming cell. Before my death, there would be a punishment. A torture of some sort, and I could only pray that it would not be terrible. But I knew it would be terrible, because everything was. Everything.
And then they came. They came and they dragged me into the crowd of roaring citizens, begging for blood, begging for death. For my life to end. They all came here to see my life end. I was dragged into the harsh sun, slammed to the ground with a startled  growl. A sharp pain stabbing its way through my back, and yet, I welcomed it with  open arms. And there was my father at the top of the arena, speaking the words of death, my death. His daughter's death. It was all a blur.
"As you all know, death comes with a punishment."
There were cheers erupting happily coming from the crowd. My father continued.
"Marian Eliz Gray is who we have here today for our pleasure and entertainment." My fake name.
Disgust filled me and I snarled, causing a kick from a soldier. The sun beat down on my eyes. Sweat, icy cold, formed on my back, for now, after all this, I was terrified. I thought I was ready for this. I was most certainly not. I struggled at the restraints. I struggled and struggled to no end.
"My soldiers, I have decided, deserve a little treat."
My father clapped his hands together happily.
"Do whatever you please."
Hungry growls from the soldiers. I fought against the chains until my wrists were pink, blistered, and raw. My eyes wild with a need, a want, to escape. To never look back at this terrible pit of death. The soldiers closed in on me. Chuckles with the slam of a boot into my back. I growled, as pain surged through it.
"Burn in hell." I snarled.
The soldiers chuckled, but shut up as I spit in the lead ones face. His eyes turned dangerous. Murderous. His chocolate brown eyes filled with a lust for blood. His muscles rippled as he stalked toward me, using the back of his hand to slide the spit off his face. He unsheathed his blade, slashing it, a hair from my throat. So close. He knelt down in front of me, and grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes up to his.
"Oh little girl." He snarled.
"I won't be the one burning. You will."
And with that his knife was slit in my abdomen, the metal clawing at my soft insides. I gasped, blood gurgling at the back of my throat hungrily. Wanting up. Wanting freedom from its prison, just as I did. I fell to the ground, supported by a chained hand. Tears came down my cheeks without a thought, my nose bled.
The people of Arden laughed, and they cheered. They smiled cheerfully. They raised their fists to the sky in joy, joy that blood was to be spilled. Joy as the soldiers walked away, and opened the cold, shining metal gate at the other side of the arena. Pure, and utter joy, as massive wolves, a pack of 7, charged out of hiding. Charged out of their own, personal prison. Their eyes to were filled with joy, as for a short amount of time, they were free.
Freedom is what we want. What we crave, and what we seek. That was proven now.
I slammed my fist into the ground as I bled, clutching my wound with a chained hand, the sun beating down on my back mercilessly. I scurried backwards as far as my chains would allow, back from the wolves as I shook below their icy gazes, their eyes, piercing and killer-worthy.
The prey was surrounded by the pack. The prey would die, and the pack would feast. The prey was survival, the pack was instinct. The pack was merciless, and the pack, was doom. The prey was not a rabbit, however. The prey was me. I. My own personal doom to come at dusk, had come. Dusk, in its finest, had come. And the people of Arden raved as my eyes slid closed, and as chaos erupted around me, for the wolves had not killed their prey, but they were saving it.

          Lashes parting, the small flutter of sound, there, and gone. My ragged breath, as I slid my arms up, forcing myself upward. A bed, soft, cushiony. How long had it been since I felt a bed? Blood flowing into my arms from a tube. It was so deep, so red. I gazed at it, before turning my attention to my attire and surroundings. I wore a white hospital gown with small blue dots etched into the stitching. My abdomen stung with pain following every movement. I didn't bother to examine it, I simply let my gaze flow around the room. My new prison, in a way, was blank. Completely white, with not a thing in it, not a person, no objects besides the machines I was hooked up to and a door, barely visible as it was meant to blend in.
           I, very slowly, slid myself off the bed, clutching my wound as it stung with every movement. I winced with every step as I hobbled over to the door, and slid it open, staring out into the abyss of emptiness that came with the opening of the door. The lights were dim, and I had to adjust to it, as compared to my shockingly white hospital room, it was quite dark.
           And so I limped down the hall, ever confused on how I was alive. I replayed the events of the day over and over in my head. The wolves. The soldiers. My father. The cheering of the crowd. All of it was put together perfectly in my brain, besides the ending. The wolves, had not killed me, and that was all I knew. I was very much alive, at least I thought I was. Maybe this was death, in its own, strange way. Not sure of my current position and how this was going to effect me, I stumbled forward, until finally, I saw figures off into the distance. The halls ended, and slowed as light creeped in from the point where the people stood. They were outside. Hope filled me at the sight of the outside world. In an attempt to quite my movements, I walked a little slower, before finally sliding outside into a quite beautiful forest, filled with life, tweeting birds, and forest creatures. It was all illuminated by the beautiful sun, which I had missed so very much. I ducked behind a large boulder, careful not to be seen, and pressed my back against its cool surface, leaning my head towards the two men dressed in black, armored clothes. Guns, big and strong in their beauty, were slung over their backs. Knives at their belts. I studied them, knowing I was in no position to ever take them out. They were clearly trained, with weapons and armor, and I was a 16 year old "injured little girl." So I waited, and I listened, observing.
"The girl is alive, and that's all that matters." A muscular man with his short brown hair,  cropped at the sides, with a handsome face to accompany his already apparent magnificence snapped at the other, who was clearly not as well trained. The other came with a longer black, unruly curly hair. He was somewhat muscular, but didn't wear as many badges as the other. The boy with the black hair shook his head.
"Sloan.." he murmured unhappily. "We should've stayed out of this. They'll be looking for the girl now. They know who she is, they're just trying to keep it from the public. She's the most wanted fugitive in all of Arden and not a citizen knows it. And now, look where we are. They're searching for us Sloan, and if they find us..." the boy averted his gaze. "Arden will destroy us." Sloan snarled at that.
"We keep her here. She could be the next one of us, Sergeant Davy." He said, saying his name with disdain. "You will call me General Aquarius, and you remember it." He glared at the boy, before quickly saying, "You're dismissed, Davy."
"But S- General Aquarius... you cant-"
Sloan snarled. "I'll do what I please Davy, I believe I'm the general here." Davy shook his head and backed off, walking towards another, more magnificent black, clearly armored building.
Sloan stood still for a few seconds, before finally saying, "I know you're there." His voice was cool, calculating. My heart stopped in my chest as I gazed ahead, unsure of what to do now. "Come out." Sloan murmured. I slid out from my hiding place in the boulder slowly, standing and walking towards the General, my eyes studying him intently as I stood before him. He looked down at me, observing me with his piercing brown eyes. "Adelina Deltania, former heir to the throne of Arden. Former princess, driven away by her father. Arrested for the robbery of bread." I could see him visibly fighting back a chuckle at my crime sentence.
I looked at him without a hint of laughter, of amusement in my eyes. "How do you know who I am?" He studied me as if I was his prey, and he circled me, continuing to observe. "I know everything, Adelina." He said stopping inches from my face, meeting my serious blue gaze.
"You can shoot, and you can fight." My eyes narrowed, knowing I no longer had the upper hand, if I ever did. His hand was on my cheek, as he slid his thumb down. I stared into his eyes fiercely, willing him to let me go. And he did, throwing his hand off my face.
"My name is Sloan Aquarius, and I am General of an empire." He said in a straightforward way.
"An empire?" I asked swiftly, eyes following him.
His lips edged upward in a sly smirk. "You'll be trained as one of us." He said now, not answering my question.
"Who are you, exactly?" I said with a glare.
Suddenly, his form shifted. His spine twisted unnaturally into a curve as he fell to the ground on all fours. Shocked, i stumbled back, wincing at my wound as he transformed below me, into the very creature that had just recently saved my life.