The Many-Faced Luna

Chapter 2: Basement of Fear

Nobody knew I'd gotten my wolf three months after my eighteenth birthday. I wanted to conceal it, especially from my abusive sister, viewing it as a treasured gem of wisdom and a safeguard for the future.

Crystal, my wolf, was the antithesis of Grace. While Grace had often been dark, Crystal was like a beacon for me to navigate with. Like the voice of an angel guiding me to the right choice, my wolf was my savior. I relished the sense of security she had gifted me.

“Teach them a lesson,” Crystal yelled at me, “Punch their shining teeth through the back of your skull! Then they’ll know who you are!”

I’m not sure whether I should do something like that. But the redhead stood up unsteadily, and stared at me with angry eyes.

“What are you doing to me?” He shouted, “How dare you!”

It was difficult for him to believe a maid dared to offend him. So he wanted to prove himself with his fist. That’s exactly what Crystal wanted to see. So she repeated what had happened a few seconds ago.

“Anyone wants to try it again?” She forced me to ask this question, “I’d love to help you.”

The answer was no. They had got enough lessons, and the only thing they could do now was escaping as soon as possible.

“I told you. You are much stronger than you think.” Crystal was very dissatisified, “You shouldn’t stay in that house anymore. You should leave there and enjoy freedom.”

Often, Crystal openly expressed dislike for my family and tried to persuade me to leave, but that was unrealistic–I had nowhere to go. Even with Crystal's motivational speeches–akin to a professional football coach urging his team–I couldn't listen to her advice.

But today was different. I had heard what my stepmother and sister were talking about. Escaping was no longer a choice. It was necessary.

“I’ll find a chance,” I said, “But first of all, we need to collect enough of money. Without money, we can go nowhere.”

Crystal agreed with that. It was the first time we reached a consensus on this matter.

As I stirred the pot of stew, my thoughts drifted to how Crystal had saved me again with those boys today. The whirling, spinning concoction hypnotized me as the savory spices invaded my nostrils. With every turn of the ladle, the stew neared perfection, promising a tasty dinner was soon to come. However, I could feel tension brewing as my father and Grace threw glances at one another in the dining room.

We ate dinner uneventfully. I was briefly fooled into thinking I would slip away from punishment, but my hopes were soon dashed. The phone rang, shattering the peaceful moments of serenity I'd managed to steal.

From the other room, I could hear my father's booming voice. I knew he was talking about me and something to do with the school. Scooping my final spoonful of stew, I swallowed nervously, watching my sister leave the table to join her partner in crime.

I'd just finished doing the dishes when I heard my father and Grace colluding in the next room. With feet as light as a feather, I sneaked to the nearby hallway to listen.

"Did you know Saphira left her shanty cottage today?" Grace asked in a goading tone.

"Of course. My first call of the night was from the school. She's such a troublemaker," Father said in commiseration.

“But did anyone tell you she attacked a group of boys?” The light cast shadows on Grace's arms as she flailed them dramatically. It was like watching a shadow puppet theater, with all the grandiosity included.

"Yes, that was the third phone call of the night," Father said, "Then the boys’ parents threatened me, saying I'd better deal with her."

"But you're Alpha Evergreen, Father. Nobody can tell you what to do," Grace gushed. I cringed at her overt plea to gain favoritism. What a sycophant. "But the thing is, I don't understand how Saphira was able to fight them off. It was five against one.”

"I was wondering that too, Grace," Father said. "What do you think is going on?"

"I’m not sure, but whatever it is, she’s a menace.”

"You're right, sweetheart. It's time for me to talk to her," he paused, then, in a louder voice, called, "Saphira!" After waiting a few seconds, I entered the room, pretending I'd been in the kitchen the entire time. Wiping my hands on my stew-soiled apron, I glanced at him.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You left your cottage today without my permission. Then you went to the school and picked a fight. Explain yourself." He pointed sharply at the floor with his index finger.

"Father, you can't possibly believe that story," I said, swallowing in panic. You've told me never to leave." I was afraid, but I knew that if I fought back, it would only make things worse.

"Grace and several other boys have corroborated what happened," he retorted, crossing his arms impatiently.

"Did she also tell you she purposely left her lunch behind and said she'd rat me out if I didn't bring it?" I held my hand out, pointing toward Grace.

My father snorted in disbelief and smirked.

“It is Grace who made trouble for me. She even tried to instigate those boys to hurt me. How can you turn a blind eyes to these? I’m also your daughter!”

I knew I shouldn’t say that. I had tried a thousand of times and it turned out to be useless. But I suddenly lost control, especially after learning my father’s “arrangement” about me.

How could he do this to me? Was I his biological daughter?

I hoped to get an answer from him. But what I got was a slap in the face. My head was tilted to one side. My face was burning with pain.

"Why do you blame Grace every time we argue?" He wrapped his left arm around Grace's shoulders in a supportive gesture, just like nothing had happened, "It's ridiculous how you can't see the good in your sister. After all these years, she's still your scapegoat."

While I debated whether to save my breath, Crystal's fiery anger boiled in my chest, threatening to erupt like a volcano. I battled with her, trying to quell her unbridled emotion.

'Crystal, calm down. He'll accuse me of betraying Grace, just like always. Then he'll tell me I'm a liar and punish me. All avenues point the wrong way.'

'But you should stand up for yourself. Don't allow them to bully and silence you,' Crystal insisted. 'You deserve to be heard.'

'I have tried. But I failed. Now I know that. Fighting back is a fruitless venture because you can never wake up someone who pretends to be asleep.'

Crystal was quiet, but she wasn't through. Her passion surged until it overrode my meekness, making it impossible to keep my lips sealed.

Hearing her fierce voice meld with mine, I said, "Believe what you want, but my version of events is the truth.”

My father's eyes burned with rage as he towered over me.

"You dare talk back when you're caught in a lie?" His eyebrows were low like a Neanderthal's as he glowered in my face. I was about to speak again but he stopped me, raising his hand.

"Don't say a word!"

Gripping me by the collar, he yanked me across the room until we were in front of the basement. Twisting my head back and forth, I prayed he wouldn't do what I thought he was. As he flung the door open in a swift and desperate move, I braced myself at the last minute, using all four limbs to prevent him from pushing me over the threshold.

"No, Father, please! Don't do this to me," I gasped, "You know how scared it makes me!" My voice was shrill as my panic rose. He clung to the back of my sweater, pressing his pointy fingers into my back.

"Repeatedly, you defy my rules. There is only one way for me to know where you are."

With a swift kick to my behind, he knocked me down the stairs, causing me to somersault. I tumbled end over end, my shoulders and head crashing painfully against the wall with each jarring impact. When I stopped, it was with an abrupt thud like a horseshoe in the sand. When the world stopped spinning, all I could hear was my trembling breath in the pitch-black cellar.

My phobia of the basement didn't manifest organically. Grace had used her beguiling nature to lure me down there when we were pups. As a young one, I didn't know to look for pretense on her face. Instead, I took her word for it when she told me about a forgotten birthday gift of mine down there.

I'd made it a few steps before I realized what she had done. As the shadow of the door began to eclipse the light, I spun around to block her from shutting it. Jamming my foot at the edge, Grace painfully slammed the door against my rubber sole. My toes cracked as she repeatedly mashed my foot.

"Ow! Don't Grace. Lemme out!"

Eventually, my foot grew too painful, and Grace successfully kicked my wedged shoe out of the way. As soon as the obstacle was removed, she gleefully shut the door in my face. Banging on it, I begged her to let me out, but she didn’t care. Instead, she added insult to injury.

"There's a big scary ghost down there, and he's going to eat you, Saphira!" she shouted, her voice slightly muffled, “You know what? All of us want to see you disappearing, me, mother and father. Sometimes I can’t stop my imagination, what will happen if you are sold to the Alpha King?”

If something was colder than the water, it must be Grace’s words.

“They say the Alpha King is the most cold-blooded and cruel were-wolf in the world. He takes pleasure in torturing people. How will he deal with you? Can’t wait to see that. Must be more interesting than basement and water. ”

Her giddy, sinister laughter would never leave my head. Ever since then, I shuddered to hear that cackle. She was like a possessed child in a spooky horror flick.

I couldn’t think about the Alpha King and my future fate because water was slowly submerging me. I pounded on the door for hours, my cries for my father growing more frantic as shadowy figures from my worst nightmares threatened to materialize before my eyes. Like an old eight mm movie, the sequence flipped through every boogeyman I’d feared, keeping pace with my ever-increasing heart rate.

My young brain didn't have the ability to decipher real from imaginary. A few times, I thought I felt hands on me, then I swore I saw orange glowing eyes from the shadows. I pictured people grabbing me and pulling me down the stairs into the mouth of an all-powerful devil.

For that entire day, Grace's shadow had tauntingly paused at the door just to hear me cry. I could see it through the slit on the floor as her feet tapped. At first, I thought her comings and goings were acts of mercy, but soon, it became clear that she was savoring my fear, relishing my likeness to a rat in a nest of vipers.

She was a sadist.

I’d almost given up that day, but my father saved me. When he opened the door, I was elated. My eyes must have been as big as saucers. He was my hero for a fleeting moment, but soon, he morphed into a demon as he jerked me out of the basement and carried me into his office.

I'd been crying and protesting, begging him to stop and listen to me about Grace, but he refused to acknowledge my voice. It was like he was under a trance from a Santoria curse.

That night, he beat me as though I was a side of beef from the butcher. For every bloody bruise, an equal amount of patches were numb from nerve damage. Grace had been the one who maliciously tricked me but it was me who suffered the punishment. That was how it had been since we were young, and it had been that way since.

Now, reflecting on that night, I was in the same position, locked in the basement without any control. It had been years since I'd been down here, but it wasn't any less eerie. Even though I was eighteen, I couldn't help but fear that the void was merely an artist's canvas and soon to emerge would be an effervescent face staring at me, shimmering in the darkness.

My fear was compounded when I heard twisting in the pipes, followed by Grace's malicious giggle ricocheting in the darkness. That titter of malice matched the grating sound of metal upon metal. It was like nails on a chalkboard as it dragged across, resisting the grate, but then it popped.

For a moment, I almost thought I would die there.