The world is cruel, it's a blunt statement, but a true one none the less. Ever since they came into the world, however long ago it was, it's been like this. In all honesty, they solved all the problems we couldn't, pollution, world hunger, poverty, racism, of course, they didn't solve it for us. They only solves it for themselves. who are they? They're wolves.
Apparently, by what we learned in the short hours of school when we were kids, was that they'd overridden our society filled with human normality in a matter of days. The history books frame them as heros, they say that they saved us from... whatever. But they also say that we suppressed them, that we were cruel enough to hunt them down and make them hide. No one cares about the history anymore though, all that matters is the now. Humans at the bottom, werewolves at the top, and everything in between.
God the price of food is high
I think, 50 dollars for a can of peaches. That's just what it's like down here. You work for hours upon hours upon hours, sometimes with government enstated "office jobs" working on a computer till your fingers cramp up and you can barely stay awake, or sometimes with a factory job wearing rags and sowing cloth till your hands are covered in needle pricks. Only to be rewarded with a minimum wage of 1.30$ an hour. Money is worth nothing, and we have so little of it. People walk around markets carrying money in barrels, only to walk out with a few cans of expired beans.
Putting things back on the shelves, I narrow my options down to a can of tomatoes, or a can of twenty year old green beans. Both priced over a hundred dollars, but they at least are edible. Some of the stuff on these shelves could kill you.
"Darlin! I gotta close up soon so hurry up. That big ball thing comin up has got them wolves all shaken up. Security measures on the HHS are tightened, we close at 7 now" the owner of the little corner store spoke up from her seat in the desk. She was an old woman, her hair white and receding, she never told her name, we aren't supposed to talk about our personal lives. Humans are "meant for work" they say.
"Okay. I'm finished anyway. If I may, why have the prices tripled? Last I checked these were worth twenty dollars at most?" I pointed to the cans, and her gaze followed sadly, she knows this isn't enough to feed me, my mom, and my brothers. She knows that I will probably go without food for the week, but she won't say anything. I know she won't. She cares, but not enough to put her own life on the line.
"I heard there were a few border issues, and the closest food shipment will be next month. Food is scarce dear, and expensive. You better eat all you can at that mating ball tommorow, probably will be the best meal you'll ever have" she stared at my basket and plucked the can of green beans out, knowing it's what I would inevitably choose. We can't talk about ourselves, well, we shouldn't. But we can talk about mates, it's something "written into fate", supposedly a mate is someone you are fated to be with. And wolves go all crazy for them, cause it releases some chemical in their head. I didn't listen all that well in 8th grade biology before I dropped out, so that's all I really know.
But it's something that we're encouraged to talk about, having a high rank mate of any species other than human is all we're good for. That and working like slaves. Humans don't have the best track record for accepting mates, we were made defected, we weren't born by some ancient moon goddess like the wolves, or from the light of the suns tears like the fae or witches, so we don't feel the bond as strongly as we should. It's drilled in our heads from the day we're born that we have to accept our mate and love them, as in the past humans as a whole have failed to understand. Maybe that's why we're treated like this.
"As if they'll actually feed the humans. Anyway. Thank you, I'll see you next week after I get paid" I waved at her, and she gave me a tight lipped smile, which pulled at her skin and showed how sickly she looked. She knows I'm not supposed to talk about the poor treatment of humans here, it's against the rules, but she knows I'm right. Poor woman. I probably look the same, we all do down here. I shut the door behind me, tucking the can into the brown paper bag she'd given me and beginning my journey home. I worked in a large factory, where we milled cotton and sewed large flabs of fabric that would later be turned into dresses. It was a mile or two away from the apartments where I lived, but it was right next to the old woman's store, so I could go get food right after I got paid.
Gosh this sucks
Rain was thundering down on me as I walked home, I went quickly, noting how late it was, and how soon the sun would set. If I walked fast enough then I could make it home before they started charging us for being out in the streets this late, who knows what would happen when the officer figures out that I can't pay the fine. Water soaked through my dress, it was more of a potato sack than a dress, but it covered what it needed too. But it provided little to no warmth, especially when covered in cold water.
All I could think about was going home, and just seeing my family, seeing papa with his smile, and mama with her crinkly eyes fillers with light, and my brothers. God it's freezing. Of course it rains the day I stay late to get food. I just pulled the bag over my head and ran, I know the shortcuts to my home like the back of my hand, I've been running them for years now. Even if they are through narrow alleyways, they cut twenty minutes off of my time walking home.
It's too loud for me to be cautious, the rain is pelting down all over me so hard that it almost hurts. The thin cracks in the brick walls I slip through soak with rain, and all I can hear is the noise of my footsteps sloshing in the puddles. I don't notice footsteps creeping up behind me, not until it's too late. Not until someone has their hand wrapped around my throat, a gun pressed to my temple, and I'm being forced against one of the harsh brick walls.
"Stay still. Don't scream. Or I put a bullet in that pretty head of yours" a male voice growled out, I couldn't see him, but I knew he was human. Just from the way that he talked, a werewolf didn't need a gun, and they certainly didn't need to corner me. His hand drops from my throat, but the gun is still pressed firmly against my forehead. Guns are harder to come by than food, it might not even be loaded. But I don't dare move. I can't risk it. I won't.
"Please- I have a family. Just let me live" I try to make my voice as clear as I can, but the fear pooling in the back of my head makes it wobble. This has happened before, I should be used to it now, but not every time will I be so lucky as to escape with my life. He doesn't try to meet my gaze, he doesn't even spare a moment to take into consideration my fear. He doesn't care.
I end up realizing this as his hand snakes under my dress, pulling up to grab my skin, those grimy fingers pull at the back of my underwear, and I have to suppress a scream. Just give him what he wants, he won't kill you if you let him do what he wants. I know how this works, i know that if I fight back I'm surely dead, I'm not the one with a gun, so I withdrawal my eyes and let them settle on the ground. I have to make it out of this alive.
"Cmon darlin. Let me hear your voice a little more- a woman like you should be working in a brothel, so pretty" he remarks, now he is just mocking me. He knows I'm too scared to move, His finger is just one slip away from taking my life. I won't work in one of the brothels, papa wouldn't let me, and if I have it bad, those women have it worse, they're the ones who haven't been claimed by a mate, so to the rest of the world, they're useless. My hands balled up in the bottom of my skirt as his hands roamed freely, and tears escaped my eyes. If only I wasn't born a human, then this never would happen to me. I would be living in some fancy house with jewels and silk and everything I could never even dream of having. Someone would be here to stop this, to slam this man to the ground and beat him till he's dead, why can't someone do that for me? Anyone. Please.
"I'm speaking to you bi-" the man starts up, but it seems my prayers have been answered. One of the night officers peeps around the corner, and upon seeing this, slams his boot into the man's face, sending him flying. Immediately he grabs the gun from whoever this man was, and tucks it into his own belt. I'm still frozen in my place, staring at the two while the officer holds the man' down by his neck. His head snaps towards me, and I take note of how dark his eyes are. This officer, alike many others, isn't human.
"Are you mated?" He asked, his voice low and demanding, it's for sure a wolf. It takes me a few moments to register his question, why does he need to know? But before I can answer that question in my head he juts his chin out, telling me to answer silently.
"N-no"
"And you're going to the ball tommorow?" He asks again, this time lighter, as if he's actually trying not to scare me. Then it hits me why he cares, because I'm an unmated teenager. He doesn't care who I am, he just cares that I'm a girl without a mate, and that the government makes him protect me. If I had waited any longer to answer that question, then he probably would have walked away. That's all they care about, finding mates. If I had said yes then he would have let the man go. He would've let it continue.
"Y-yes" and at that he stands up, pushing the man down into the grown with his boot, and walked over to me. I don't know wether to be more scared of him or the man behind him, who now stood up, gave me a glare, and walked in the other direction. The officer wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads me away from the alleyway. It's passed the time that he's allowed to find me for being out, but he can't, because I would be home right now if it wasn't for that man. His hand lingers firmly on my shoulder, in a clear attempt to comfort me. We walk in silence as he holds me close, which scares any other creeps from getting too close. When we reach the Main Street, He escorts me to the only car on the road. A black police car.
"Come with me, let's get you home" I don't look in his eyes, and I just let him pull me into the passenger seat. After I told him my address, and we started driving, we just sat in silence. I can tell that he's looking at me, which is unusual for one of the night officers, usually they just do what theyre paid to do. Fine humans, occasionally break up illegal dealings, and stop unmated people from getting dead. It's ironic every time I see someone take pity, they only care because they are seeing it face to face. No one cares how were treated in factories, well, no one cares to find out. I do appreciate it though, I have to, this man- or wolf- just saved my life.
"Thank you sir"
———
"This is your home, correct?" He asks, the time we spent in the car consisted of me pulling back at the skin on my thumbs, and him pretending he wasn't staring at me. Not Staring at my sunken cheeks or my hollow face, and certainly not staring at the hand print that was surely forming on my throat. His eyes actually hold care, how odd it is that someone like him is worried for a stranger like me. I nod to his question, and he unlocks the door from the inside. I reach to open my door, but by the time I get there he's already outside of the car, and opened it for me.
"I'll walk you in." I just nodded along to whatever he said, and his hand, which I now notice had a golden ring on, meaning he was married, curled ontop of my shoulder again. None of the officers ever expressed this much care, at least not the ones I've met. What's so different here? I couldn't help but glance up at him as he walked me to the front door of my family's small flat, he had short black hair, a small scar running from the far left of his jaw to the top of his lip, and golden eyes. He doesn't belong here, not in this run down section of the HHS, certainly not with me.
"Thank you so much- for all of this. I truly owe my life to you sir." I broke myself out of whatever admiration trance I was in, and bowed my head. I'm not supposed to talk to him, I'm not supposed to talk at all. But he doesn't seem like he will be tight with those rules, at least I hope so. However much I do trust him, I won't meet his eyes, that would just be disrespect.
"You can call me maven. And I'm just doing my job, I'm sorry this had to happen to you" he spoke, and this time it actually felt real. People just didn't say sorry here, because things like this happen to everyone. It shows how he's blind, how he doesn't know. But I can't blame him, he probably has a wife and kids, a happy home to go back to where he doesn't have to worry about how much a can of beans cost because he has a personal chef. How could I blame him? Ignorance is bliss. Oh what I would give for that.
"Okay. Still, thank you Maven. " and with that, we bid eachother a silent goodbye, this would probably be the last time I ever see him, which I'm almost saddened about. We'd made it to the front door, painted white with old cracking paint. And our eyes met for a single moment. They say you can see a man's souls through his gaze. And he has a good one. I'm
surprised that he doesn't hit me for locking gazes, disrespectful, they say. We both pause, then I start unlocking my front door, unlatching the seven knobs on the front. While doing so I hear his boots clank against the asphalt, then the footsteps stop again.
"Oh. Before I go. I just have to tell you, the gun wasn't loaded, there weren't any bullets"
"Oh"
If only I wasn't born human