Rejected Mate and Following Fate

I wake up groaning, spitting blood and phlegm and scramble to get off the floor in the pitch black of my room. The hot fluid running down the sides of my face tell me my ears are bleeding, my heads aching like it just got stomped repeatedly, and I'm so dizzy I can't seem to focus on anything. The air is deathly cold, and I scrape my hands around the dusty wooden floor to get my bearings. I've no idea what's happened, why there's no light anymore, or why I'm so messed up, dazed, and confused and my body aches badly

The air is filled with noises so terrifying I freeze in utter fear as they filter through and I pick them apart, stilled as I listen and try to make sense of what they are. My heart grippe din icy terror.

Screaming…. howling. Wails of despair, and sobbing. Something else too, a weird almost chatter like taunting noise, that I swear is exactly how I would imagine the devil would sound laughing. It sends the fear of god through me and I shudder violently, pulling myself up to huddle on my ass, aware I can move again if a little slowly with great effort. My limbs are insanely heavy and I'm hazy and not all the way here.

The air is filled with a metallic stench, so intense it makes me gag, completely vile in its density and although I have no idea what's going on, my internal instincts are warning me to be very, very afraid. I shiver and curl up into a ball, trying to be small as childhood instincts take over, swallowing down the urge to cry and struggle to not gasp as much, because it's making me lightheaded. I screw up my eyes to get them to adjust to the pitch blackness faster to make out all the forms and shapes of my room. My sight adjusting quickly and letting me see some of my surroundings.

There's a sudden thud, thud, thud, that piques my attention like a sixth sense and echoes my way softly, my stomach turning with fear induced nausea as I zone into it. I hold my breath and freeze, as still as a statue, as I tune in, trying to focus all my effort on what it is. It's less imposing than the rest of the noises, sort of dull, and heavy, and foreboding, but it's slicing through and pulling my painful hearing it's way, demanding attention. Getting closer, I can feel it, almost like each thud syncs with my heartbeat and my pain drops to my stomach with every bang of its intimidating noise. I tremble inside with extreme terror, knowing that it's coming my way.

The overwhelming stench of something familiar begins wafting my way as I focus my energy and it distracts me from listening. I know the smell, it's not metallic it's a scent. A wolf scent, familiar … someone I know.

I don't know what's happening, but instinct makes me push back, despite the world tilting and swaying around me and I slide backwards under the nearest bed. Scrambling flat again and using my palms and all the strength I can muster to force myself into the shadows of my only protection. I inhale sharply and that scent forms a picture in my mind of the face it belongs to, so clear, now it's almost upon me.

It's Vanka's. It's her smell, her scent. Strong as though she's afraid, or in wolf form. I don't know.

I claw and pull myself under, breaking nails in the painful process as I scramble in panic. Something telling me to hide. Until I'm concealed by the sheets she leaves hanging over with her refusal to make her bed, and for once, I'm glad of their untidiness. Thankful her bed is always a mess, leaving chaos around it which now conceals me, and I curl into my own body to fit in one corner. I peer out, gut telling me that I should be quiet and stay hidden. I hold my breath and cover my mouth with my own hand as tears begin to fall quietly down my cheeks. Fear trying to consume me, making me shake so badly I'm sure it'll give me away.

My door is still open, and as I start to become accustomed to the dark, my nocturnal eyes coming out to play for the first time since my turning, I make out something passing by the open space and inhale quickly to quiet myself into stillness. Heart bursting through my chest, pounding my ribs erratically as tears drench my hand and wrist.

swaggers by in the space out there, imposing, and blurry as I adjust, but it pauses and stops, right outside. Almost like it senses me and I recoil some more, trying to make myself as small as I can. I'm so scared. It turns slowly to peer my way, everything in me turns to ice as a terrified feint drains

I know there's at least one more up here…." The bloodcurdling words make me scrunch my face up to combat hysterical tears, the voice alien to me, almost satanic, low, and husky, with a

nothing that I 've ever encountered before and dampening over the one I vaguely recognize. It's not Vanka but I can smell her close which only confuses my fear addled brain. The sadistic laugh that follows his bold verbal's,

can hear your heart beating little one.... Bumpity, bumpity, bump, bump, bump. You're scared…. Why don't you come out and play, like your friends are doing? I want to play with you too…." He laughs again, a sound that curls my toes and sends shivers across my scalp and down my spine, so that I shudder uncontrollably. The sound

cover my mouth again, tighter, as the urge to break into a sobbing cry hits me harder and I shake, holding my breath and praying to god he leaves me alone. I don't know who he is, and I'm so disoriented, the smell overpowering my senses, that I 'm trying hard not to gag while keeping my focus on this stranger. I can taste something foul in the air, hitting my tongue, invading my lungs, awful and cloying. So metallic and potent

his intentions aren't good. I can almost taste his desire for blood, and it renders me completely useless. Frozen and afraid. He ventures

him. Gagging on my own vomit, I can't block out her scent…. Panic, hysteria, and the crumbling of my mental state as I identify what and who he has with him. There is no mistaking who has fallen foul to whatever this is, I can't unsee or blot it out no matter how much I try and turn away, wash it out of my eyes and mind with snottery

me, dragged by this monster and being used as a toy for his sick twisted

want to have to drag you out from under there. It's not fun if I have to do that." There's a sneer of venomous hatred in his voice, and I imagine the way his face curls into a sadistic grin, glaring my way through the

weight, her body splaying her arms out in a star shape and I recoil, tears blurring my vision as I try and get as

no match for this thing, then I'm not either. I don't know how to fight; I've never had to. I'm not a warrior or even aggressive. I'm a

me, when suddenly, the entire bed is ripped from above me, the gust of the action throwing my hair around my face and he sends it crashing into the other wall effortlessly, displaying strength much like ours. I gasp and react with a shuddering splaying of arms, over my head defensively as it flies and lands over on top of

trying so hard to make my body work with me, to command it somehow, but nothing is happening. It's like my brain is on slow motion, and my limbs are in hibernation. I shake my head, try to dislodge

still, and it's like time has slowed so his movements are almost paused, as instinct takes over, finally. Blood rushing and pumping at speed as

I'm stronger and faster like this in human form since turning, our wolves are way more so. I need to turn, to survive and to heal, to fight. We only heal fast when in form. We only have abilities of extreme strength, ferocious aggression and razor-sharp

through mirror and splintering wood into a heap on the floor, as heavy objects tumble on top of me. Pain slicing at my body as I convulse at the assault and am rendered mute with the

in agony and bleeding out. I scream out loud. A blood curling wail of agony as I'm inflicted with a