The Anthem of the Castaway

Is it Torture?

I awake to the feeling of Wolf stroking my hand with his thumb. Surprisingly, my sleep was uninterrupted by nightmare.

"Good morning." He tells me, a new gentle expression about him. Is it pity I see in his expression?

"Morning." I respond quietly. The reality of the conversation with Father and Satan sets in and I start to dread the coming days.

"I know about the meeting. Father told me your plan." Wolf says, confirming my idea that it was pity on his face.

"What do you think about it?" I ask him, deep down hoping that he agrees with the idea.

"I don't know. But I can work on more long lasting numbing solution so it doesn't hurt as much." He tells me, pausing for a moment. "I just dint see why you would out yourself up to this? It's literally your worst nightmare."

"You know, everyone keeps saying that. The difference is, this time it wont be so personal. The last time was horrible because it was betrayal and it was torture. This time it is basically ceremoniously removing my second set of wings."

"How is it not torture though? It's literally going to be done the exact same way."

"It's not torture because I don't want it to be torture." I counter, knowing those simple words would do best at explaining the idea.

You're crazy." He says while deep in thought.

I let the conversation drop and let my mind wander. What will I do when I am free? Will Father have another dreadful task for me? Or can I do as a please for a while until I get bored?

"Hey, look. You're starting to heal." Wolf says, pointing to a cut I have on my arm. I watch as it slowly stops bleeding and the inside of the wound starts healing over. "Its way sooner than I thought."

"With all of the damaged cells in my body I am not surprised that it replicated so fast." I tell him.

"I need to work on that numbing solution. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" He asks, standing up.

"Yes I do. It has to be done." I tell him.

"I guess I'll try concentrating the numbing stuff. I don't have much time to remake it." He mumbles to himself as he walks through the doorway.

"Wolf, wait up." I call out, causing him to turn back around. "Another significant reason I'm doing this is so the wings are gone. The change in the genetic code isn't going to make them wither up and fall off. They have to be removed completely, muscle and all."

"I guess that makes sense." He tells me, looking at me pitifully.

"It has to be done. There is no way around it." I tell him proudly. The dread of my decision haunts me even more, and I'm now trying to convince myself that it was the correct decision, not an impulsive mistake.

"You don't look so convinced." He tells me. My gut sinks a little knowing that he can see through my cover.

"I'm afraid." I tell him softly, ashamed to admit it.

"What are you afraid of?" He asks, coming back into the room.

"I'm afraid of pain and suffering. I'm afraid of not recovering. I'm afraid of facing Father and Satan on terms like this. I'm afraid of if it's not going to work."

"It will be okay." He tells me. "You've already said you will be okay."

"I'm afraid I've made a mistake."

"If it was a mistake then Father and Satan would never have let you continue with the plan." Wolf counters, bringing up an entirely reasonable point.

"I just feel like I can't do it anymore." I tell him on the verge of tears.

"You'll get through this. I promise." He tells me before leaving the room. As soon as he's gone, mother comes walking back in. I bury my face in my pillow and pretend to sleep, hiding the fact that I'm crying.

"I know you're pretending to be asleep." She tells me. I don't respond, instead I ignore her. I don't want her to see my weakness.

She finally loses interest and begins to read her book. After a while my mind becomes slurry and I slip into a nightmare filled sleep.

The tearing of flesh makes me scream out. Tears stream down my face, mixing with the blood from my nose. The chanting echoes loudly off of the walls of the chamber, muting out my pitiful screaming.

The wing on the other side is ripped off in the same manner, causing me to scream out. Father turns my body to face him. He meets my gaze with a hateful expression. "This is why you don't disobey." He says, his voice echoing in my head as he nabs his fingers into the fresh wounds on my back.