The Blood Rose

Broken

2 years ago

I don’t know what it’s like to feel the sun on my skin, or to smell the fresh air after it’s rained, I never knew what safety felt like, or a mother or father’s love, I only remember pain, the King lashing me with silver edged whips or beating me with his bare fists, or whatever else he could use to hurt me.

I was a weapon, trained young, broken into submission, I’d never dare to defy the King.

He reminded me constantly that I was nothing, Only to be used for my powers, That no one would want me or save me, I am an abomination to the world, I am not supposed to exist. I don’t know why, I don’t even know who my parents are, But in my 16 years of life, No one has helped me, showed me kindness or tried to save me, So I believe the King. He’s all I have, The guards around my cell don’t speak to me, the doctors that heal me after training won’t say a word, I only get glares from these strangers, the only person who talks to me is the King.

My own wolf even abandoned me, I shifted for the first time 9 months ago and met my wolf counterpart, Saffron. For the first month she would beg me to fight, to try and escape but when I wouldn’t budge she just stopped talking to me, she was getting weak too because we don’t have proper meals, if we ever get to eat and we’re constantly injected with wolfsbane to render us unconscious or to just cause us pain. I don’t know if she’ll ever come back. I can’t heal like a normal werewolf or shift anymore, and besides when I’m training I’m here alone..

“Get up mutt” His voice echoes through the empty cells around me.

I don’t look him in the eyes, keeping them lowered to the ground and staring at his feet as I slowly rise to my mine, clasping my hands behind my back. “Your training is almost complete and when it is, You’ll slowly be introduced into my ranks as a warrior.” His voice comes out harsh, almost a growl but not quite.

I nod, knowing better than to speak to him. Last time I spoke was 6 long years ago, I was 10 and He used a whip with silver tips dipped in wolfsbane on me, lashed me at least 50 times if not more. I learned quickly to always submit, never look in his eyes and never, ever talk. Just do as he says and never question anything.

He still beats me, when he’s had a bad day I assume, But I don’t mind, I’m used to it. I have more scars than skin, I used to cry out at every kick or stab but now I just sit there, numb to it. The only time he ever gets a reaction from me is when he uses wolfsbane or silver-tipped whips which isn’t that often, thankfully.

Almost nothing hurts anymore, I’m just numb, from the inside out.

I used to dream about what it would be like to be free, What it would be like to shift again, run through the trees, feeling the wind ruffle my fur, what it’s like to hop over fallen trees or even hop in puddles for pleasure or to chase a butterfly. Sadly, I wouldn’t be able to be free. The king wouldn’t never allow that and I don’t know anyone to seek asylum with, All i know is the 2 guards who glare at me when I have a nightmare, or the doctor that glares at me when he has to give me medicine, The king who beats me and the people he makes me kill.

He says they’re prisoners, People who have committed treason or war crimes, that have threatened his rule and I, his little soldier needs to eliminate those threats. I absolutely hate taking lives, I hate how their bodies go limp and the light leaves their eyes, the fear they show me.

The King made me a monster.

I still dream about all the people I’ve murdered for him, every face haunts me every single night. I can’t disobey him again though.

The king brought me to an empty dark room, throwing me in the middle of the floor. “You know what to do.” He states before closing the door and leaving me in the dark.

I sit there and close my eyes, feeling that there’s someone else here. A rogue specifically, the smell of rotten flesh being present on him.

I feel my power crackle just beneath my skin, I call it forward, pushing it out towards the rogue, trapping him in a bubble of electricity that also lights up the room, I open my eyes and look into his fearful ones, before walking over to him.

I c**k my head as something in him calls to me, something in his eyes...something I need to see.. my eyes stare into his as I push my mind forward, trying to decipher what it is but he starts struggling, breaking my trance. I wave my hand to freeze him in place before reaching to touch his cheek, he lets out a growl as I pull the image forward.

A blood rose. Why did that call to me? What is so important about a flower? I ask myself before looking over to the naked man in front of me.

Closing my eyes I focus on him, feeling his spirit deep within me, he’s tainted with the blood of women and children, my eyes snap open and I glare at the monster before me. My hands reach for his head and twist it roughly, successfully snapping his neck.

The image of the rose comes to my mind again. Where have I seen it before?