Solum
Chapter I
"Reagan." Her voice was hoarse and raspy. She could taste the faint trickle of blood that ran down the corners of her lips. It tasted cold and metallic and reminded her of her cell. She had been crouched in a corner, arms wrapped around legs that were pulled tightly up to her chest.
She looked to her side, peering behind the two sets of bars that separated the two. Reagan, with his body slumped over against the wall. His head hung low, eyes shut, giving off the appearance that he was in a deep slumber.
"Yeah?" He answered. His voice was rugged and worn. His eyes fluttered open and he looked towards the girl. Her eyes traced his figure, taking in every detail. He had changed drastically since the first time the two met. His hair was long and black, now stopping at his shoulders. Stubble lined his chin from ear to ear. His face rigid and hard. His frame frail and weak.
His eyes were what bothered her the most. They looked drawn, rimmed with red and covered with heavy bags. They were cold, and void of emotion. Those light brown eyes no longer held a spark or the hopeful naivete of a child. Though she was certain she had changed as well. She could feel it, unlike Reagan, it was as if a light had been turned on inside of her.
"What's a beach?" She asked twirling her fingers in her lap. Though she already knew the answer to that question, he'd already told her about it. She just wanted to hear it again. His stories about the outside world enthralled her, for it was long since she'd last seen it. And even then the memories were fading her. She couldn't help but question him about it once more.
Reagan chuckled lightly, the sound vibrated through her ears forcing a smile onto her lips. She enjoyed his laughter even more so than his tales. He closed his eyes, and she knew he was reminiscing upon the memories of the days with his family.
He had told her about the countless afternoons spent with his family at the beach behind his house. It was one one of his favorite memories. He let out a sigh, "Well, you remember what the sky looks like, don't you?" The girl closed her eyes and nodded her head enthusiastically. Images of the light blue sky invaded her mind.
"Now picture the sky but instead, it's on the ground-"
"That's the ocean", she interjected, grinning at the images in her head.
He let out a small laugh before continuing, "Imagine the sun shining down on the ocean, illuminating the surface. The waves crashing against the sand, creating a white film."
She did as she was told, she could picture it all. The hot sand squishing beneath her feet and sending a warm comforting shock to her toes. The scent of salt wafting up her nose as the seagulls took to the skies.
The sun beaming down at her bringing with it a soothing warmth. She opened her eyes again, Reagan's startling cough snatching her back to reality. She hadn't even realized he stopped talking.
Before, his stories served as a reminder, taunting her of the things that she so desperately craved but were out of her reach. Now she clung onto them, in a last ditch attempt to escape her own realities. They gave her a chance to hope that she would one day experience the world outside these walls. One day have her own stories to share.
"Shhh," Raegan whispered. He had a finger placed upon his lips, his eyes sent her a silent message. She nodded in understanding and did as she was told. Her breathing hitched as she listened until she heard the jangling of keys. The entrance of the room unlatched.
The room, though not a room but instead a long wide hallway, had cells that flanked it's left and right, each holding a prisoner of its very own. A narrow hallway positioned itself in the center. A wide iron door with a single keyhole stood in the middle. Reagan's and her cells were across from each other and the farthest away from the door. The room reeked of death and decay; a putrid scent that the two had grown accustomed to over the years.
Looking out, she could see the figures of two guards emerging. The guards went to the couple of cells that held a prisoner and placed a tray through a slot in the bars.
When the guard reached her cell, she hung her head down, staring at the cracks that randomly lined the concrete floor. She was careful not to make a sound or any sudden movements. The guards before her were well-known for their brutality towards the inmates. She could hear a creaking sound as the guard opened up the slot in her cell and placed a tray of food onto the metal tray that was connected to it.
"Dinner," he stated blankly, closing up the slot. He stepped back, his keys hitting up against the bars. The two guards retreated back down the hall, their footsteps echoing off the walls. She listened, waiting until they had left before letting out a sigh and silently thanking whatever force that was watching from above. She picked up the tray, it was cold to the touch and was divided into three sections.
The larger section held a spoonful of mashed potatoes and some carrots on the side. She touched the carrots, watching as they broke apart under her fingers. A bread roll sat in the second section. It was still warm and soft.
She grinned, it was most likely Caleb's doing. In the small round section, a tin can was placed there. From the torn label that was stuck to the can, it looked as if someone had emptied and cleaned out a can of peas and filled it with water.
It wasn't much, but she was grateful nonetheless. Taking a bite of the bread, she looked at Reagan, watching with a smile as he greedily ate his food. She was pleased that he was eating again. In the past few weeks, he had gone through a phase. He'd refused to eat or even speak. When she tried to start a conversation, his replies would be short and detached. It seemed something changed in him.
She turned her attention towards the stones that sat in the corner of the cell. The stones were large but still small enough to fit in her hands. They were rough and uneven with jagged corners that jabbed at her skin. They had been broken off from the back cement wall, remnants of a prisoner who once attempted to escape.
Now they served a different purpose. They helped her keep track of time over the years. When the first set of guards came in to deliver their meals, she knew the day was beginning. By the time the second guard rolled around, she could tell that the day was coming to a conclusion and would place a tally mark on one of them.
Each stone held three hundred and sixty-five tally marks, one for every day of the year. The stones had been Reagan's idea, and she was glad he had come up with it. They helped keep her sanity.
"Aria", Reagan called. She turned to face him. It had been a while since she had heard him say her name. Another smile crept onto her face at the realization that the old Reagan was starting to make an appearance.
"Remember when we first met?" He asked, his eyes glazed over as he reflected upon the sudden memory. The girl, Aria, smiled, of course she remembered. It had been one of the most memorable moments of her life. The day that everything in her changed.
Reagan being four years older than her had been twelve at the time. The guards had brought him in and placed him in the cell across from her. He looked petrified, small sobs had escaped his little body while tears poured down his face.
She had tried her best to reassure him that everything would be fine but even she herself, had a hard time believing her words. After his crying died down, Reagan had introduced himself and told her his name. When it was Aria's turn she had looked down in shame. She couldn't remember hers though to be fair, she wasn't even sure she had one.
Reagan had picked up on this and even offered to give the poor girl one, in which she eagerly accepted. He told her she reminded him of a girl he had read about in one of his books. A superhero named Ariel to be exact. He had chosen to name her that but eventually decided that he liked Aria even better. Reminding him of his sister, he decided that she too would be the same age as her.
Reagan informed her that his pack had been ravaged by the people that imprisoned them. His family killed and he taken prisoner. His eyes glazed over at the sullen memory, a lone tear ran down his cheek. Briskly wiping it away, he asked her what pack she was from.
The little girl had been bewildered, to say the least. She had no recollection of her home or parents, let alone what a pack even was. Seeing the look of confusion she wore, he had asked, disbelief written on his face, "Don't you know what a pack is?"
She shook her head no.
He had looked up, staring intently into her eyes, as if he was searching for something, "But you're a werewolf too how could you not know?"
She looked at him. "What's that?" She asked him, confusion on her face as clear as the clouds in the sky. His mouth hung open, gaping at how out of the loop she was. It seemed that her question had taken him by surprise.
He shook his head in astonishment, "How can you be a werewolf and not know what you are?" It was unheard of, a werewolf that was unaware of what they were. Usually pups were taught of their heritage from a premature age.
She shrugged her shoulders, she hadn't much memory of who she was. Her past was a haze, a distant memory that was long forgotten. Reagan had proceeded to tell her what a werewolf was in which she responded by looking down at her hands. He told her werewolves had fur, yet not an inch of hair could be found on her body, excluding the ones that flowed down her back.
"No I'm not," she had protested.
He had frowned and nodded his head adamantly, "Yes you are, I can see it in your eyes."
My eyes? The little girl thought, she had been perplexed as to how they equated to her being an animal.
"Every werewolf has a distinct pattern of eyes that other werewolves can pick up on. That's what my father told me." He leaned his head out through the bars and showed her his eyes, "You see the pattern around the black part?"
Aria looked into his eyes she noticed the pattern he had been telling her about. The gold specks surrounding his pupil were shaped into semi circles, intertwining with each other. Following along, more gold lines shot out from his cornea making equally parallel semi circles, starting from the corners of his eyes and ending at his iris.
"Yours are the same, except instead of semi circles, yours are in the shape of little swirls. I've never seen a werewolf with those eyes before," Reagan stated, captivated. It was true, he had never seen such eyes before, not even in the great book of supernatural creatures his father had forced him to read. He pulled his head back into his cell and leaned against the concrete wall.
"But why don't I have fur?" She had objected.
He smiled at her, "Well that's because you haven't shifted yet. It's okay though I haven't either," he had reassured her, "when you shift then you turn into a wolf."
Reagan proceeded to teach her everything his father had lectured him about werewolves. He told her about alphas who ran the packs like a monarchy, about shifting and most importantly about mates that were bestowed upon each werewolf by the gods themselves. The little girl listened intently, it was then that her fascination with his stories began.
Reagan, though still a young child and unaware of this, had given her a sense of identity. He made her whole, imparting to her a piece of herself that she never knew existed. He had told her who she was and more specifically what she was.
"You still there," Reagan stirred, breaking Aria out of her deep thoughts.
She looked at him, thanking the gods for bringing him into her life. She couldn't imagine her life without him. Before he came, she longed for the day that death would descend upon her. A deep sense of loneliness had washed over her cloaking her with its shadow of despair and sending her on a downward spiral. Each time the guards would come in, she had hoped that it would be the day they would finally take her away and end her life.
"You saved me that day", She told him, honesty lacing each word. It was the truth. Reagan had given her new purpose in life and a reason to wake up every morning.
Reagan stretched out his legs, he folded his arms across his chest, "I know. I could see it in your eyes. Something in you changed that day. It was like a dark cloud had been lifted off of you. "
Aria nodded her head in accord. He was right, something had changed. The loneliness that she had been accustomed to had dissipated. It was as if a soft glow now radiated from her body. A hopeful glimpse of the future now consumed her thoughts.
She picked up a stone and placed a tally mark, it was almost filled with marks and she knew the year was coming to a close. She closed her eyes. Nine. Nine stones. It had been nine years since Reagan and her first met. Though, how long she had been confined in this place, she wasn't exactly sure of. She gazed upon the small cell. This room was her home or at least the only one that she had ever known.
"Night Aria," Reagan's voice breathed into the dark room.
"Night Reagan." Aria sighed in contempt, allowing her dreams to consume her thoughts.
*******
The feels. Aww man I promised myself I wouldn't do this. Man nine years -wipes sweat- can you guys believe that?! Do you think you can handle that? Let me know what you would have done if you were in that position. As always don't be shy of clicking that vote button.