The White Wolf (Book One)
Chapter 18. 91 Days

Isla POV

Crassus and I were taking and tearing up sheets to make clothing for ourselves, The early springtime weather still has a bite to it, wherever we are.

We have been using the water from the basin to wash our bodies and try to keep the clothes we have clean.

I have been hyper focussed on cleanliness, because, well, I had nothing better to do.

About 3 months ago, every week one person is taken from their cell and they never return but we have not had any new prisoners come in, Someone is looking for information...

Our numbers are dwindling within the cells. No one speaks unless it’s necessary, silence reigns supreme within these walls.

Fear evident within all of us, Our faces show the look of despair and hopelessness.

We all know something is wrong. There is fuckery afoot.

We remained in physical and mental darkness.

The unknown being the largest part of our fears.

Not Knowing is worse than Knowing at this point.

Every now and then Screams would resonate through to the Cells from an unknown location.

Somewhere close, But not close enough.

We can hear them coming from the staircase, they come to claim their next victim. The footsteps drown out any other audible sound, The silence that follows the footsteps are almost as dreary as the eyes that examine the footsteps trajectory.

Who is next? is the question that looms between all of us.

Who is next? Next to suffer in pain, haven’t we all experienced enough torture, this place will destroy anyone’s mental health.

Everyone taken fought for their lives.

Loud screams of panic would echo throughout the cells as they fought.

I would close Crassus’s ears and hold him close to me in order to protect Him.

I knew he could still hear the sounds, I felt him shudder and shake with fear. It killed me to know that I couldn’t protect him from this trauma.

He was so young and so fragile.

He didn’t understand and I didn’t know how to explain to him a Three year old what situation we are in.

I couldn’t even explain to him or even Lie and say that I could make it better.

I couldn’t I didn’t know anything.

There was a sound at the end of the corridor, The footsteps are coming, Multiple footsteps signaling they have come for this week’s Victim, Panic-stricken, I hid Crassus away under the Bed. Today felt different, I could feel it in my soul. I could hear the footsteps, each step made my heart race, bile was building in my throat. fuck...

The Gate to my Cell opened, I knew this day would come, my heart sank into my chest I felt Amera push forward, she wanted to fight, I felt the goosebumps erupt all over my skin and my body temperature rise.

They won’t have him, I knew struggling wouldn’t be smart so I walked with my hands in front of me. Hoping they would take me and leave him be, all the while Amera was ready, ready to shift and fight within a split second.

The three guards with Red eyes took me silently, they never made eye contact or spoke, Their heartbeats were steady and their breathing was regular. But when they touched me I felt ice-cold shivers, As if they didn’t have a soul, I felt an emptiness when they touched me. But it was not I who was empty, It was them..

Crassus started sobbing and my heart shattered, knowing he was afraid he would never see me again. That same fear was flowing through my entire body. He would be alone with his fear. What if I don’t come back, what will happen to him?

I followed them up the stairs, dragging my feet along the cold marble floors, my nerves pushing vomit and bile up my throat, I swallowed hard as the large Iron door opened to a bright room.

Do the cells lead straight into an Office?

My eyes struggling to adjust to the bright light.

I couldn’t see much as I hadn’t been exposed to such a bright light in Months.

Focussing on trying to see was tough although I couldn’t hear much except for moving papers and the Red eye’s heavy calm breathing next to me.

Amera noticed they had no sents, They smelled of earth and nothing more. This is the strangest thing, everything had a scent, I mean even grass had a scent.

I allowed my eyes to adjust to the light, It didn’t take long at all, When I could open my eyes fully I couldn’t Believe them, for what was in front of My eyes seemed so crazy.

I was in a Witches Wikka room.

A large room of deep burgundy red furniture and fixtures, the Ceiling and rooms color was of a dusty black and grey, The Ceiling trusses were high and angular, they held many artifacts and skeletons of Dinosaurs and Monsters hanging from the Ceiling. This room almost seemed to be a research Lab, But I recognized that this was a Wikka room because, well, there was no carpet and a huge pentagram painted on the flow with white paint.

Bookcases stretched from wall to wall and Floor to Ceiling, many of the books were covered in dust, some were old, very old. Their covers started to crack and split at some places due to wear and tear. Age has not been kind to these books. I could smell mold, Mold usually fucks up books because, where there is damp, there is mold.

Many large Wooden tables held powders and all sorts of small vials and bottles filled with Goddess knows what.

I hadn’t had enough time to see what was in them because My attention was drawn to a man sitting by the Fireplace, drink in hand, Dressed in the finest dark blue suite, Acting as the king of the fucking Castle.

I recognized that ratface.

I had met him the same day I had met Clayton.

The one I disliked Immediately.

He sat smiling to himself with one skinny leg draped over the other, swirling his drink as if he was awaiting some important introduction, Looking smug as a pug on a rug.

“Oh!, great Smeagle, why hath though brought me here,” I asked sarcastically in a hushed tone.

Knowing who ‘smeagle’ was, immediately dropped his ugly face into a scowl.

He was the one that walked in front of Clayton the day we met. The one Amera and I didn’t like.

The one that smelled like a Rat.

Septimus’s smile dropped, Insulted by the name I called him and I presumed to mock him for his old tastes in Furniture and his Old Castle.

“Seems that a betrayer and a slaughtered of innocents, doesn’t actually live so wealthy. This place stinks of Rat shit and mold. Seems to be the perfect habitat for a Smeagle looking Mother F#@cker like you” I hissed through my teeth.

I smiled after that as if nothing was wrong. I wanted to piss him off.

I could smell my own breath and body odor, knowing I could insult him even though I was pretty much-oozing filth, I still held on to my Self-worth, I was to be a Luna of a great pack, What was Septimus? He was just a shriveled, Old, and bland Man. I'd look better than him.

“I see that your Time downstairs hasn't curbed your tongue, you little bitch” he hissed.

“I would be dead by the time the sarcastic streak leaves my body”, I smiled back politely, knowing I was hitting a nerve.

“I guess you are the Mastermind behind the Drug addict look-alikes here with their red eyes?” I asked, Annoyed.

“Oh yes, They are my new Coven Members, I am their Supreme” He advised smugly.

“Coven? As in Witch Coven? , I only see shifters and Were-creatures under your ‘coven’ " I teased.

He tensed at my Blatant lack of respect.

“ I also see free will is not apart of being in your coven? “ I queried further.

Poking at the Smeagle looking mother fucker with my rude demeanor.

I wanted him to lose his Cool, I wanted that victory.

“You insolent little bitch, I will have your skin Peeled off whilst you are awake!” He screeched at me, he sounded like a strangled bat. There are no manly qualities to him.

There he was, the power-hungry, low self-esteem bitch, he was hiding behind his cool facade, I knew that if I could get under his skin, I could get answers.

“So I guess you are using me to get to Clayton. A man you were obviously spying on?” I proceeded to ignore his huffing and puffing.

He was heaving like a fat kid in a marathon. I could sense his anger, it was Red hot and he was close to losing it.

“I had infiltrated many Packs and Covens in order to gain information”. was all he said, I saw his hands twitch and fidget at his sides but his face was a picture of calm. He was maintaining his cool.

“So Mr Evil Villain, I am here, I am listening. You want an audience to marvel at your master plan and applaude you for being cunning and intelligence, flying under the noses of so many powerful people and have them at your beck and call if needed. What is the end goal?, The big shock in your plan? The one to ake your betrayal the greatest? to make all of this 'worth it' ”

I was poking at him wanting information, desperately wanting answers, answers I have craved for 3 months. I needed to know what his Plan was and if I could put a spanner in the works

My Ears could not believe what they had heard, My response was of pure rage and anger at what he advised next.

“Sons and Daughters are dead because of you, The Ground that is red with their Blood is your doing. The price of your greed would be you Blood and Your Soul, Septimus, you will die, By My hand or by Clayton. You are toxic and cruel, You poisoned the minds of innocents to do your own bidding. You are the only true monster that exists. There will be Retribution”