The Saga Of The Bullied Luna’s Return

Chapter 2

The home itself was a sight to behold. Massive in size, with numerous large windows. It was constructed of stone and resembled something out of a children's fantasy book (or at least the few such novels I had access to).

I also have no idea how the majority of the interior of the home was laid out. Every time, I was forced to follow my captors as they pulled me out of the back door and down the basement steps. I was held in this room. This room was the first and only one I had ever seen in the house.

Never once did I get the chance to walk outside or interact with other people. The exact number of my extended family members who resided here was a mystery to me. From the time I could remember, I had spent my whole life behind bars. Since the day I found out that my mum had been killed.

As I was pulled down the stairs, I could feel their edges cutting into my body. When Uncle William threw me across the room, I landed hard against the stone wall on my left shoulder. Obviously, a c***k appeared.

He walked up to me, his face inches from mine, and growled, "You keep your ass down here. Do you hear me? Don't you f*****g try to run away from me again." "I'm being kind enough to wait until your eighteenth birthday, but I can stop being so considerate for you, if that's what you really want from me." His finger traced along my jaw, sending a shudder of disgust through me. "Just over a week now." I should not have reacted with fear to his words, "Soon, little Betty, soon."

Uncle William's rage caused him to lash out. His right foot shot forward and slammed into the middle of my chest with incredible force. I was left gasping for air as he kicked me again in the same spot, forcing all the air from my lungs.

He stomped out of the room after telling her, "Things will get better for you, if you just stop resisting me."

The last thing I remember is looking down into my dark cellar and seeing the light coming down from the top of the stairs. Everything was made of stone: the grey walls, the wet floor, and the lumpy cot they gave me. In the end, that was it. As I drifted off into nothingness, a single idea crossed my mind. They won't be here to feed me tomorrow, and maybe not even the day after that, so I can rest and let my body heal while I sleep off the pain.

In the end, I fell into a restless, anxious slumber. I kept going back and rehashing old recollections, both happy and bad. Only nightmares about Uncle William's intended punishment were available to me.

When I was two years old, my dream began. My mother had just taken me to a new town, a modest one nestled among the trees. It was nothing more than a few isolated settlements in the middle of a wilderness. It was claimed that a small number of stores provided locals with the basics they required to live, but the reality was that most people commuted into the city for employment.

When we moved here, I was relieved and even excited. I expected to have cousins nearby to hang out with and for assistance. The point was to enjoy ourselves. Unfortunately, mum passed away a month after we moved here.

I was sent to the cellar the day after mum passed away. I sobbed constantly. I had no clue what had taken place or why I was always freezing and starving. But no one heard my calls for help.

Eventually, I was able to control my tears. At least aloud. Although I cried less frequently than in the past, I still occasionally dissolved into sobs if I was overcome with sadness.

My mother's side of the family, including her cousins, aunts, uncles, and other assorted relatives, had stopped being friendly to me. The majority certainly weren't.

A couple of my cousins did their best to look out for me and treat me kindly when they could, but they were frequently beaten for it. When my cousin Reed tried to teach me to read and write, my great-uncle Thomas beat him in front of me.

Reed, however, was unfazed. He just kept on secretly instructing me. Both he and my cousin Bailey were quite kind to me. Because it was all they could get away with, they gave me encyclopedias to read. They were not allowed to spend their allowance on anything new for me.

I would now be a lifelong prisoner and ignorant without their help. However, Bailey was ten years older than me, and Reed was nine years older than me. Since they no longer resided there, they were unable to provide regular assistance. And I was sad about it.

Not only did Reed and Bailey suffer a defeat, but so did others. Even I was getting them on a daily basis. Whenever I attempted to flee, whenever I was caught studying, and whenever Great-Uncle Thomas or Uncle William decided it had been too long since my last thrashing.

More bones had been fractured by me than I could think of or count at the time. I would have had a lot more trouble if I didn't recover faster than a human. I was human, but in reality I was a werewolf.

The first night on the job was one I would never forget. I was a preteen. It all happened so quickly, but it has caused me a lot of grief and anxiety ever since.

The sensation of tingling and burning spread over my entire body. Since no one in my family had ever mentioned my wolf heritage to me, I was completely unprepared. I was terrified when the transformation began because Bailey and Reed hadn't considered it while they had the chance.

I felt my body contract in on itself, then extend again in all the wrong places as the scorching reached a point where I believed my skin was going to melt off. In a frenzy of fur and terror, my body had ruptured, and my voice had come out in a continuous scream.

Besides Bailey and Reed, I hadn't had any contact with my family in years. They hadn't heard my voice in quite some time, and here it was. The basement hatch was wide open, letting in an abundance of natural light.

As I raced up the steps, the light fur at the periphery of my eyes hardly registered. As I hurried passed, I accidentally knocked over my Aunt Elyria. This was my opportunity to finally get away from everything. I was finally able to leave the house after years of trying.

The concept that I was a huge guy never occurred to me. In my head, I was unstoppable. In my grotesque condition, I foolishly believed I could defeat them. That they were wolves as well was information I was missing. They started chasing me down right away.

A hundred feet out from the home, I felt someone ram into my side. It was my cousin Arlo. Just like I remembered him, he was a large, foolish guy who smelled like dirt and old socks. Now, though, he was a mysterious grey wolf. The grey was a radical departure from his dirty blonde hair colour. But I looked into his brown eyes and saw nothing but coldness.

As he smashed into me, I let out a painful grunt.

Not furious at all, Great-Uncle Thomas said, "I knew this was coming sometime soon." He seemed to have anticipated this turn of events. And to make sure you don't get any dumb notions, you'll be wearing this," he hissed at me after I told him what I was.

My left front leg was grasped and I was yanked towards him at the sound of those words. Even though I was a huge wolf, my family still scared the living daylights out of me. Great-Uncle Thomas tied something around my wolf leg, up near the joint, and I stood there petrified with horror as he did it.

Whatever he wrapped me in dug into me and started to burn like I'd been tossed into a furnace. I let out a yelp of agony, and slowly my body shifted position again.

I was back to normal in no time. I remember rolling around on the floor and screaming in agony.

When the agony subsided and I opened my eyes, I noticed that everyone around me was Staring at me. The look in Uncle William's eyes is far more penetrating than the ones he usually gives me. A gaze like that made my skin crawl as I lay naked on the ground.

Great-Uncle Thomas died suddenly not long after that night, and Uncle William became the head of the family.

I was confused as to the exact connections between any of the family members. Many people were treated as if they were family but were not related by blood. It turns out that Uncle William was a distant relative. When I turned eighteen, Uncle William made it clear that he intended for me to become his wife.

It's been over five years since then, and in that time I've spent almost all of it either plotting my escape or attempting it. The creep wasn't going to win me over. If it meant killing myself, I would stop him. I would not be his toy.