WORSE THAN DEATH
1652 Words
Elysia’s POV
The sudden pain woke me up.
It wasn’t the dull, throbbing kind; it was the sharp, stabbing kind that made me wish I were still unconscious. My head felt as if it had been split open, and something warm and sticky trickled down the side of my face…blood, definitely blood—and when I tried to lift my hand to touch it, I couldn’t move.
My wrists were tied.
Panic hit me like a splash of cold water.
I struggled to pull my hands free, but the rough rope bit into my skin, binding my wrists behind my back. My ankles were tied too, I realized, as I tried to kick and felt the same burning restraint.
No. No, no, no…
I forced my eyes open, but everything was blurry. I could see dark shapes moving nearby, but they were hard to make out. Could hear low, male voices laughing, drifting through the fog in my mind.
Where am I?
I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision. Slowly, the world came into focus.
I was on the ground, my back against something rough—maybe a tree. The ropes around my wrists were tied to it, keeping me upright. My dress was torn worse than before, barely covering me, and my entire body ached like I’d been dragged through the forest.
Which I probably had been.
Three men stood a few feet away, their backs turned to me. Rogues. I could tell by the way they moved like wild, uncontrolled animals barely holding human shape.
One of them laughed, a harsh, irritating sound that made my stomach turn.
“I’m telling you,” he said, his voice rough. “I saw her first. That means I get first go.”
“Bullshit,” another one snapped. “You knocked her out. I’m the one who dragged her back here. That counts for something.”
“You both can shut the hell up,” the third one growled. He was bigger than the other two, his shoulders broad, his voice deeper. “I’m in charge. Which means I decide.”
My breath caught in my throat.
First go. They’re talking about…
Oh God.
My wolf stirred weakly, a faint growl in the back of my mind. *We have to get out of here.*
“How?” I whispered, barely audible. “I can’t even move.”
*Then we scream. We fight. We do something.*
The big one turned around, and I got my first clear look at him. He was massive, with a shaved head and a scar running down the side of his face. His eyes were yellow and cold, and when he locked eyes with me, he grinned.
“Look who’s awake,” he said.
The other two turned to face me, their grins matching his.
I tried to shrink back, but the ropes held me in place.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please, just let me go.”
The big one crouched down in front of me, his grin widening. “Let you go? After all the trouble we went through to catch you?” He reached out, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “No, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.”
I jerked my head away, and he laughed.
“Feisty,” he said. “I like that.”
One of the others—a thin man with greasy hair stepped closer, his eyes raking over me. “She’s not much to look at. All skinny and bruised.”
“She’ll do,” the big one said. He stood, looking down at me like I was a piece of meat. “Besides, it’s not about looks, we get to have some fun before she…dies.”
My stomach twisted.
No. This can’t be happening.
The third one—a younger man with wild eyes—licked his lips. “So who gets her first?”
The big one crossed his arms. “I do. Like I said, I’m in charge.”
“That’s not fair,” the thin one complained. “We all caught her. We should all…”
“Shut up,” the big one snapped. “You’ll get your turn. After I’m done.”
He started toward me, and I felt my chest tighten, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
No. Please, No, no, no…
“Wait,” I choked out. “Wait, please. I—I’m no one. I’m worthless. You don’t want me. I’m…”
“Shut up,” he said, crouching down again. His hand reached for my dress, grabbing the torn fabric, and and I felt sickness rise in my throat.
*Do something, my wolf screamed. DO SOMETHING.*
“Please,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t…”
His hand moved to my thigh, and something inside me snapped.
I lunged forward, sinking my teeth into his arm.
He roared, jerking back, and I tasted blood—his blood.
“You b***h!” he snarled, raising his fist.
The blow connected with my jaw, and my head snapped to the side. Pain exploded through my skull, and I tasted more blood—my own this time.
“Tie her tighter,” he growled to the others. “And gag her. I don’t want to hear her screaming.”
No. No, they can’t…
The thin guy moved toward me, pulling a piece of cloth from his pocket, and I thrashed against the ropes, trying to break free.
*Shift,* my wolf snarled. *We have to shift.*
I reached for her, reached for that place inside me where she lived, and this time…this time—I felt something.
A flicker. Faint and weak, but it was there.
My bones began to crack.
The thin guy froze, his eyes going wide. “What the…?”
My hands shifted first—claws breaking through skin, fur sprouting along my arms. But it felt wrong and incomplete. My body was fighting itself, half-human, half-wolf, stuck somewhere in between.
I’m too weak. I can’t…
“She’s shifting!” the young one yelled.
The big one grabbed my throat, slamming me back against the tree. “No, you don’t,” he growled.
My shift faltered, my body snapping back to human, and I gasped for air.
“Nice try,” he said, his grip tightening. “But you’re not strong enough.”
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my face. “Now, let’s see if you taste as good as you smell.”
His teeth grazed my neck, and I screamed.
“Please! Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything—just please…”
Then there was an explosion.
The ground shook violently, throwing the big one off me. A deafening boom echoed through the forest, and I felt the shockwave slam into my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.
Birds scattered from the trees, their cries lost in the chaos. The thin one stumbled, falling to his knees, and the young one turned, his face pale.
“What the hell was that?” he shouted.
Smoke began to fill the clearing—thick, black, and choking. I couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.
The ropes around my wrists were still tight, but the explosion had loosened the knot holding me to the tree. I yanked hard, ignoring the burning pain, and one hand came free.
*Move. Move now.*
I fumbled with the rope around my other wrist, my fingers clumsy and shaking. The smoke was everywhere now, stinging my eyes, filling my lungs.
Someone was shouting. I couldn’t tell who.
My second hand came free, and I immediately went for the ropes around my ankles. My fingers slipped, slick with blood, and I bit back a sob of frustration.
Come on. Come on.
Another explosion. Closer this time.
The ground shook again, knocking me off balance, and I fell onto my hands and knees. The ropes around my ankles were still tied, but looser now.
I crawled away.
I didn’t know where I was going. I just crawled, dragging myself through the dirt and smoke, my body screaming in protest.
Behind me, I heard shouting. Fighting. The sound of bodies clashing and the sickening noise of flesh tearing.
Someone was here. Someone was fighting them.
I didn’t know if it was good or bad. I just kept crawling.
My vision blurred. My lungs burned. I couldn’t tell which way was forward anymore.
Just a little farther. Just…
Another explosion and I was thrown forward, my shoulder slamming into the ground. My head hit a stone.
Not too hard. Just enough to make the world spin.
I collapsed, my cheek pressing against the cold ground, and tried to lift my head. Tried to keep moving.
But I couldn’t.
Through the smoke, I saw shapes. Bodies struggling. Someone was on the ground—one of the rogues, maybe. Someone else was standing over him.
I blinked, trying to focus, but my vision kept going in and out.
Stay awake. You have to stay awake.
Footsteps. Coming toward me.
I tried to push myself up, tried to crawl away, but my arms gave out.
No. Please. Not again.
The footsteps stopped right in front of me.
A shadow loomed over me, tall and broad, backlit by the smoke and flames.
I couldn’t see his face. Couldn’t tell if he was going to help me… or end me.
Is this it? Is this how I die?
I thought of my mother. Of Mira. Of the life I’d never gotten to live.
I’m sorry. I tried. I really tried.
I wanted to fight. Wanted to scream. But I had nothing left.
My eyes started to close.
*Not yet,* my wolf whimpered. *Elysia, not yet*…
But I was so tired. So, so tired.
The last thing I saw was a hand covered in blood—reaching toward me.
And then….
- Writer
