Slain

Chapter Chapter Nine



This world, I'm in

It's cool, it uses everyone.

This world, I'm in

It's cold it judges everyone.

-Only Human, by Madyx

The sound of feet thudding against the stone floors silences our plan making. The boy, who I now know as Hayes, scrambles across the room, resting his back against the wall and pretending to sleep. I’m confused by his behavior, but I don’t have time to question it. The door to our cell is swung open and a wolf I don’t recognize walks in.

“Get up,” he demands. I stare up at him from my spot on the floor in disbelief. Does he think that I’m healed enough to just jump to my feet?

With great difficulty, I push myself into a seated position, wincing at the pain radiating from my wounds. Apparently, I’m moving too slow, so the wolf reaches down and grabs my right arm and jerks me to my feet. A cry of pain escapes me as the wounds on my right side stretch and tear, reopening the torn flesh.

The wolf ignores my pain and drags me out of the cell. I stumble behind him as he leads me up a narrow spiral staircase and through a few short hallways before finally coming to a door in which he shoves open revealing an office. Demon sits at the large desk in the center of the cluttered, crowded office, his eyes trained on me the second I’m in his view.

“Slayer. Have a seat,” he instructs. The wolf still clutching my arm walks me into the room and pushes me down into the empty chair in front of Demon’s desk. Once I’m seated, Demon waves his hand at the wolf. “Leave.” The wolf does as instructed without a word, closing the door behind him.

Demon stares at me in silence for a few more seconds, studying me as if he can learn whatever it is he wants to know by simply staring.

Finally, after several seconds of uncomfortable silence, he speaks. “So, you really are the slayer they spoke of.”

I frown at his words. “The slayer who spoke of? Why do you keep talking about me like that?”

“That’s not important,” he snaps. “What’s important is what you’re going to do for me.”

“And what is that?” I ask dryly.

His eyes slowly travel down my body, making me shift slightly in unease. His dark eyes flick back to mine as he says, “like I said before, I have a vendetta. I want you to kill the alpha of your mate's pack.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why would I do anything for you? You abducted me, then you threw me into an arena and made me fight seven wolves to the death! Where in your tiny, twisted brain do you think that any of that will make someone want to help you?”

Demon leans forward in his chair, his eyes narrowed and locked with mine. “You’ll help me because if you don’t, I’ll kill everyone you love. You’re mate, your friends, your family, all of them. And I won’t be merciful.”

I smirk triumphantly at him despite the sick feeling in my stomach. “Too bad I don’t actually have a mate and I don’t have anyone else I care about.”

He lifts an eyebrow, obviously not buying my lie. “Well then, why don’t I just have some of my wolves go gather up that fake mate of yours and his family and kill them. Then at least, you’ll have their blood on your hands.”

My jaw tightens in anger at his words. “Why can’t you just kill the alpha yourself?”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “That’s none of your business. Your only business is to kill the alpha.” He lets out a long sigh, glancing down at his folded hands. “Once you’re healed, we’ll make the plans for his murder.” As soon as he says that, the door to the office opens and the wolf from before strides back in.

He grabs my arm again and pulls me back to my feet before dragging me from the room without a word. I stumble behind him, trying to keep up with his long stride while also trying to cause myself as little pain as possible; it doesn’t work. By the time we make it to the stairwell, he’s basically dragging me behind him, supporting my weight by gripping my upper arm. Descending the stairs is by far the most painful part of our little journey. Each step he drags me down elicits a muffled groan as I grit my teeth through the agony. The wolf seems less than concerned, lugging me behind him like a sack of potatoes rather than a person.

We thankfully reach the bottom of the spiral staircase where the wolf roughly guides me past a single cell before halting abruptly and pulling out a set of thick iron keys. He jams the corresponding key into the lock, giving it a twist while simultaneously pulling the barred door outwards. Once the door is open wide enough, he pulls me around and shoves me into the crack, releasing my arm as soon as I’m over the threshold. I stumble into the cell as he slams the door behind me, locking it and stomping away before I can catch my breath from the pain that’s surging through my body. Hayes is suddenly in front of me, his clammy hands grasping at my shoulders to steady me. He succeeds in halting my forward motion but forgets that my left shoulder is shattered.

I gasp in pain and jerk away from his touch, my right arm instinctively shoving him away from me. In realization, he jumps back, sputtering apologies.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I mutter, waving him off once I’ve gained control over the pain. I take a deep breath as I blink back the tears that had formed and hobble to the pile of blankets on the floor, using the wall to lower myself to the ground with great difficulty.

Hayes stands across the cell from me, wringing his hands and chewing his bottom lip absentmindedly. “Are you okay?”

I nod, settling into the thin blankets as best I can. “We need to get outta here soon.” The mildewed smell of the blankets mixed with the musty, damp air makes my stomach roll.

He nods, his eyebrows pulled together as he thinks. “Like, sooner than planned?”

“Yeah,” I flip one of the blankets over, revealing the crude map of the building that Hayes and I had been working on before the guard interrupted us. “I should be fully healed in a few days and by then he wants to plan out this guys murder. I’m not down for killing anyone else, so I wanna get as far away from this nut job as I possibly can.”

Hayes sits on the floor beside me, his eyes focused on the map. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

I stare down at the map blankly, a flurry of emotions swirling in my chest as I contemplate the possible outcomes. “Well…” the realization that I could cause both of our deaths during our attempt at escape steals my voice. I always thought I would be strong and fearless in life or death situations, but it seems that once faced with it, I’m paralyzed by fear.

I clear my throat, trying my best to ignore the fear that’s gripping my chest. “I guess our best chance is after the guards get off around midnight. There should only be one stationed after that, right?”

“Right,” he confirms, nodding.

“So, we’ll give him a couple hours. When he gets tired, we’ll make a break for it. Do you think you can take him out without making much noise?”

He seems unsure. “I don’t know…”

“You’ll have to. It’s the only way we can get outta here without him signaling anyone else. I’ll help as best I can, but I had a hard enough time taking the stairs earlier.” Hayes nods, his eyebrows furrowed in worry once again. “So, Demon’s office is to the right of the stairwell. We can either go that direction and chance the psycho being up at the ungodly hour of 3 am, or we can go left and take our chances in the unknown.”

Hayes seems underwhelmed by our options, a frown slowly taking shape on his dry lips. “I guess I’d rather go through unknown territory than passed his office. I’m sure he has your scent memorized. It would be riskier to go passed his office on the off chance he’s in there awake and catches your scent.”

I nod in agreement with his logic. “Alright, then we go left. I think that if the opportunity presents itself, we should try to mask our scent. That way they can’t track us as easily.”

He hums in agreement, leaning forward on his hands. “But what could we use that would mask our scent?”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to pass a bathhouse where there could be some scented oils or something?” I say hopefully. Hayes seems doubtful but doesn’t crush my hopes by saying so. “Either way, we’ll need to be fast. So you said that from the arena, the nearest stretch of forest is this direction?” I point to a place on our map, praying that it’s at least semi-accurate.

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s in that direction though.”

“That doesn’t matter. As long as we get out of here and far away, we’re good. We’ll worry about the rest when we get there.” He nods, chewing on his lip again. “Why don’t you get a little rest? I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we’ll switch before we leave.” He nods, getting to his feet and shuffling across the small cell, laying down next to the far wall.

I lean my head back against the cold stone, squeezing my eyes shut as guilt courses through me. I killed people. I actually killed people; ended their lives. What if they had families?

I clench my teeth, holding back the sob that rises in my throat. Never once did I think I would feel so terrible for killing werewolves. That’s what Slayers are meant to do; we’re meant to protect against werewolves. But for some reason, I feel such heavy guilt weighing on my chest.

I try to change my direction of thought, not wanting to think about this anymore. Stockholm syndrome Jack decides this is a perfect time to make a reappearance, making my mind wander to Fluffy. Irritated, I shove him from my mind and shift my sitting position. This is gonna be a long night.

It feels as if I'm being shaken awake as soon as I close my eyes. After three hours of unbearable silence, I decided to wake Hayes and try to sleep to escape my thoughts. This only lead to unrestful sleep that seemed to last seconds.

I hold back a groan as I blink open my eyes. Hayes leans over me, his sickly pale, gaunt face hovering inches above mine. He puts a finger to his lips as a signal to stay silent before leaning back to allow me space to sit up.

Bracing myself for the pain, I roll onto my good arm, putting as much weight as possible onto my forearm to minimize pain in my injuries on my side and thigh. The shift of weight is painful enough, but the struggle to push myself into a seated position nearly ruins our chances of escape.

I bite down hard, clenching my teeth so tightly I feel I might break my jaw in two as I attempt to keep the whimpering at bay. Hayes tries to assist me as much as he can, but the number of injuries littering my body make it difficult for him to get any sort of hold on me without causing more pain.

Several seconds of excruciating pain later and I'm seated against the wall breathing as heavily as I can manage without alerting the guard. Hayes watches me worriedly, unable to bring me any relief. After a few seconds more, the pain in my body dulls enough for me to focus on Hayes.

I nod to him and he stands, carefully walking to my side and gently grabs my right arm, seeing as my left shoulder is shattered and its corresponding forearm nearly torn to shreds. Hayes mouth's a countdown. When he reaches one, he pulls on my right arm while I use as much strength as I can manage to push myself into a standing position against the wall. The issue with this set up is that, though my upper body injuries are all on my left side, my lower body injuries cover my right side where most of my weight is being pulled.

The stitches holding the large gash in my side tear apart at the strain placed on them, making me gasp in pain. Hayes immediately stops pulling on my arm and I collapse back to the ground. Hot blood runs down my side from the now reopened wound, but I don't have time to inspect it, because the sound of feet approaching catches my attention. Hayes scrambles across the room and throws himself to the ground, pretending to be asleep just as a guard steps into view and scowls into our cell.

Because of my injuries, I can't lay down and feign sleep, so I remain in my seated position and meet eyes with the guard, a new plan forming in my mind. I only hope that Hayes catches on.

"What's with all the noise?" the guard asks gruffly.

I frown at him, trying my best to seem innocent. "I have to pee, but I can't get up. I'm too injured."

"Just pee there," he mutters, about to walk back to his post.

"Wait," I call out frantically. He pauses, looking back into the cell with an annoyed huff. "Can you at least help me over to the corner?" I can tell he's about to give me a firm no, so I continue. "If I pee here, I'll have to lay in it and then my injuries will get infected and I could die. Your alpha needs me alive. Who's fault do you think it would be if I died because of sitting in my own urine?"

I see fear flash in his eyes before he growls lowly and turns, pulling out his keys. He pulls the door open and strides into the small cell, reaching me in two steps. I stare up at the tall wolf, hoping that Hayes has caught on by now.

He bends down, putting a large hand under my right armpit and the other on my left hip, surprisingly avoiding all of my injuries. With little effort, he hoists me to my feet and walks me over to the designated "crap corner". Once he releases me, I hesitate. I lied; I don't actually have to pee and, even if I did, I definitely wouldn't with this creep right behind me.

"Wel-" he's cut off just as he's about to question why I'm just standing there. I turn as best I can to see thin arms wrapped around the wolfs neck. The wolf struggles against Hayes' grip, thrashing and trying to slam him into the walls, but he surprisingly holds tight. Within seconds, the wolf is sinking to the ground until finally, he goes unconscious.

Hayes straightens up, grabbing the keys off of the guard before looking to me. "Now what?" He whispers and I resist the urge to facepalm.

Instead, I look down at my side to inspect my reopened wound. Blood soaks through the shirt and even my pants, dripping down my leg. Lifting the soaked fabric from my body, ragged flesh, and sticky, dark blood is revealed. I look back up to Hayes. "Get me one of those blankets."

He does as I say, bringing it over to me quickly. "That's going to cause infection," he says, watching as I tear the worn fabric into a strip.

"I'll worry about that once we're out of here. I can't leave a trail of blood behind or they'll just follow it," I say as I wad the rest of the small blanket up in my hand and push it onto the wound. With gritted teeth, I cover the wadded cloth with the strip and wrap it around my waist, tying it on the other side as securely as I can.

"Okay," I breath, meeting eyes with Hayes once more. "Let's go."

Hayes immediately steps up to my side and tucks his shoulder under my good arm, supporting my weight on that side. We begin to quietly shuffle from the cell, closing it behind us before creeping down the corridor. We reach the narrow spiral staircase and I wince, remembering the last time I took that.

Hayes continues forward, leading me to the bottom of the staircase. With gritted teeth, I begin to climb the stairs, trying to ignore the burning pain in my body. I'm on the verge of tears by the time we reach the top of the stairs, but I force myself to continue, knowing we need to get as far away as we can as quickly as we can.

I urge Hayes to the left and we begin shuffling down the dimly lit stone corridor, flinching at the slightest scuff of our feet. Our progress is painstakingly slow due to my injuries and lack of strength, causing me to lose hope. I'm about to tell Hayes that we should go back when voices echo down the hall. My limbs go numb with fear as we freeze.

Hayes is the first to recover, tugging me towards the nearest doorway. Luckily, the room is empty, seeing as we stumble into the dark sitting room blindly. Hayes hurriedly drags me over behind a couch, pulling me down to crouch behind it. I slap a hand over my mouth to muffle the whimper that escapes from the sudden shift in my injuries.

My heart hammers in my chest as the voices grow closer, now accompanied by the soft tapping of their feet. My body tenses as they pass our room. When the sound of their feet grows softer, I begin to relax. Hayes stands, checking to see if the coast is clear. When he's satisfied with the distance of the two wolves, he returns behind the couch to pull me back to my feet.

With much difficulty, we get me on my feet and ready to continue where we left off; our hearts pounding in anticipation. We begin making our way down the hallway again. I keep my eyes peeled for any way we can escape. It's as if hours have gone by before we round a corner and a large window comes into view.

"There," I say, pointing at the window. "That's how we get out."

Hayes releases me when we reach the window and glances out of it. "Well, we're on the ground floor, so that's good," he mutters. His dark eyes meet mine questioningly as he asks, "How are we gonna get it open? There's no latch."

I curse under my breath, scanning the window for a way to open it. He's right, this window is solid glass; there's no way to get out without breaking it. I shake my head, we're gonna have to find another way."

Hayes nods and moves to put his arm around me again. A door opens suddenly and my heart nearly stops as a wolf steps out into the hallway.

"The window, break the window," I say frantically as the wolf turns his head to look at us. His eyes widen with recognition. Hayes releases me again and grabs one of the plants to the side of the window. He slams the pot into the glass, knocking a hole into it as the wolf down the hall runs towards us, shouting for backup. Hayes kicks the remaining glass out so there's a big enough hole for us to crawl through. I realize we aren't both going to make it out now that this wolf has alerted others and I make a snap decision.

"Go!" I shout at Hayes. He looks at me in confusion. "Get outta here! I'll only slow you down, just go!"

"But-"

"I'll be fine! Get out!"

He finally nods before rushing out the window and running into the night. I watch him run as the wolf reaches me, tackling me to the ground. Just before Hayes gets out of my sight, I see a wolf lunge at him, taking him to the ground.

I land on the hard stone ground with the wolf on top of me, my head crushing against the floor. My vision blurs from the pain before everything goes black.


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