His Moonlight Angel

My Last Night In Hell!

“Happy birthday to me,” I muttered, the words dripping with sarcasm.

There was nothing happy about it. Birthdays were supposed to be a celebration of life, but for me, it was just another cruel reminder that I got to live… while my mother didn’t.

There were no friends waiting with smiles, no family to hug me, no one to even whisper a simple ‘happy birthday’. Just me—alone—trapped in a pack full of people who wished I didn’t exist.

I was a ghost living among the living. Pathetic, unwanted, forgotten.

Every year, the day felt heavier, like the universe was mocking me for surviving when the one person who made life worth living was gone. My heart felt hollow, my soul worn out.

I wasn’t living. I was simply existing.

And maybe… maybe that was the saddest part of all.

Sometimes, I felt like I didn’t deserve to be alive. The thought clawed at me more often than I’d admit. But deep down, I knew—if my mum were still here—she’d hold my face in her warm hands, look me straight in the eyes, and tell me it wasn’t my fault.

I told myself those words over and over again, like a prayer I didn’t believe in. I wasn’t the one who killed her, yet the guilt never faded. It lingered in my chest like a shadow that refused to let go.

With a shaky breath, I forced the darkness away and tried to think of something—anything—positive. My eyes wandered around the cramped room I called home.

A single bed sat pushed into one corner, its sheets old and rough. The walls were peeling, the paint long gone, leaving behind a tired shade of gray. A cracked full-length mirror leaned against one side, reflecting more of my emptiness than my face. My clothes—what few I had—were stuffed into worn-out boxes.

That was it. That was my world.

The rest of the room was filled with the pack’s discarded junk—broken chairs, rusted frames, things that should have been thrown away years ago. Sometimes at night, their twisted shapes seemed to move in the dark, and I could almost feel their eyes on me.

I swear they put me here on purpose. Surrounded by everything unwanted.

Just like me.

When it came to showering, I used the same bathroom everyone else did.

The difference? I only went in when no one was around. I couldn’t stand the stares, the whispers, or the way they looked at me like I didn’t belong there.

God, my life sucked.

I rolled out of bed with a groan, dragging myself into another day that felt exactly like the last. It was Saturday—meaning everyone was home. Lucky me.

I moved through the house like a shadow, silent and unseen, except when I couldn’t avoid their eyes. I made breakfast, keeping my head down as I cooked for people who wouldn’t even look at me. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air, but it didn’t feel comforting—it felt like obligation.

Then came the cleaning. The entire house. And when I say the entire house, I mean every single room.

It was humiliating. I could feel their eyes following me as I scrubbed the floors, dusted the tables, and wiped down walls that weren’t even mine to touch. They watched like I was entertainment, like the pack’s unwanted girl was some sort of joke.

By the time I was done, my arms ached and my back screamed in protest.

Dinner wasn’t part of my chores, thank goodness, which meant I had the rest of the day to myself.

I was walking back to my room with my head down, careful not to make eye contact with anyone on the way. Just as I was about to walk past Max's room, I heard someone call my name.

I stopped outside his door to hear what they were saying. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but at thesame time, I was extra curious to know what they were saying about me.

"Yeah tonight....I will f**k her tonight and when I'm done, she's all yours." I heard Khan say.

"I don't mind tapping that ass." Another voice said.

"We could make this more interesting and each have our turn with her all at once." Someone suggested.

"You watch way too much p*rn. Another voice said laughing.

"Oh come one, let a dude live out his dreams." the voice from before complained.

"Your dream is to have a gangbang with one girl and all your friends? A voice asked in disbelief.

"I don't see why the hell not!" He laughed.

"It could be fun" someone else said.

"Chill out guys, we'll all get our turn." Khan said.

"If she won't give in willingly, then we'll have to forcefully take what we want!" Josh continued with a laugh.

I covered my mouth, stifling a gasp as their words sank in.

My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat echoing louder than the last. They were planning to… to have their way with me.

My stomach twisted in terror. I couldn’t fight them—not all of them. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even fight one. My hands trembled as the truth hit me like a slap. I was trapped.

But I wasn’t going to let them take the only precious thing I had left.

I had held on to that part of myself for my mate—for the one person fate promised would see me, love me, choose me. I wasn’t about to let a pack of monsters destroy that dream.

I crouched lower, hiding in the shadows as I strained to hear them.

“Max, are you okay with this?” Khan’s voice cut through the tense silence, low and cruel.

“Are you kidding me?” Max snapped. His voice was thick with hate. “That b**ch is the reason my mum’s dead. I don’t give a f**k what you guys do with her.”

The words sliced through me like a blade.

My chest tightened, and tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

“Good,” Khan said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

That single word shattered whatever strength I had left.

I turned and slipped away quietly, my pulse roaring in my ears. Every step I took felt heavier, my breath quick and shallow.

I didn’t know where I was going—all I knew was that I had to get as far away from them as possible. Before they took from me what little I had left to lose.

I rushed back to my room, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. My hands shook as I yanked an old duffel bag from under the bed.

I couldn’t stay here. Not another second.

I was done living like a ghost in a place that never wanted me. Maybe I wasn’t ready for the world beyond these walls, but I’d rather face the unknown than spend one more night surrounded by people who saw me as nothing.

I tossed in what little I owned—some clothes, a few essentials, and a small picture of my mum, worn at the edges from all the times I’d held it. I packed light; the lighter I traveled, the faster I could run.

When everything was ready, I slid the bag back under the bed and sat there in the silence of my tiny room. The air felt heavy, thick with fear and determination.

Nightfall. I just had to wait until nightfall.

That was when I’d finally be free—

—or so I thought.

Because just as I closed my eyes to steady my breath, I heard footsteps approaching my door. Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

And then—

a hand on the doorknob.