Alpha Caius

[5 years ago….] [Loraine] That Sunday morning was different from others. That morning, I woke up to the smell of blood and charred flesh. My brain took a while to catch on, still sleep-addled and hazy from last night’s party. After all, we celebrated my 16th birthday with cakes, chocolates, and good food. My dad, the alpha of our pack CrescentMoon, had arranged it all despite the brewing tension among the neighboring packs. All my friends and everyone I loved were present.  However… My room is unusually dark. I feel strange, not strange in a good way. It feels like something bad has happened, something has gone really wrong. I sniff the air again and try to listen carefully. There’s no noise, no screams or shouts, or wailing, Nothing, but the burning smell and the smell of blood is apparent in the air. I swallow back the fear that has gripped my heart, driving away the remnants of sleep. I slowly get off the bed on trembling legs. Why was that smell coming? Our packhouse is clean and well-built. Even when the pack warriors, my brother, and my dad returns from a fight, they always make sure to not step into the pack house until they take a shower and scrub off the dirt and blood if any from their bodies. My mother made sure of this.  I open the door slowly, heart in my mouth. I peek outside and immediately regret it because the smell only grows stronger. Despite being a wolf, I feel nauseous. I think of calling out to Evan, my brother, but think against it. If we were under attack, then they would definitely hear me. I gulp and step out. I sense something sticky. I am breathing shakily as I look down to see the dark splotch on the wooden floor. It does not take a genius to guess what it might be. My heart is pounding in my ears. Dread settles like a rock in my stomach. Throwing away all rational thoughts, I frantically call out to my parents and my brother. I run madly down the corridor and down the stairs. In retrospect, I should have thought better than to go there because what I see is a sight I will never forget.  My whole family and many other pack members lie on the ground. Despite the darkness, I can see the blood, and the disfigurement on some of their bodies and faces, especially my father’s. I surge forward, slipping slightly, which I don’t want to believe is my father’s blood.  My hands are shaking as I touch his face, badly disfigured. My eyes are wide, but no tears fall as I call him, hoping that he would wake up. We are strong, right? We heal quickly. But deprive shaking him, he doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t say, “Bubba, see I am fine, it’s just a small wound. I will heal in no time.”  I crawl to my mother, who lies close by, her head lolling to the side in an awkward manner. She is a witch and she told me witches can’t be killed easily. Then how?  “Mom… hey mom, wake up,” I whisper, my voice trembling. She doesn’t wake up either. What… is happening? How did this happen? My head feels light. Where’s… where’s my brother?  I am about to go look for him when I hear.  “We missed out on this little wolf.” The voice is calm and almost cheerful. A shiver runs down my spine, I can’t seem to move from my spot, and neither do I dare to turn and look who says this, but I hear my attacker’s footsteps coming closer. I can’t die… I need to find Evan. He might be hiding somewhere too, or hurt. My eyes dart towards my parents and then flicker to the inconspicuous door that leads outside. Willing myself, I move. I have trained with my father and Evan for two years now, and everyone commends me as a good fighter, but definitely, my attacker is someone I won’t win against.  I hear a growl and just as I wrench the door and close it, his foot jams between the opening.  With all my might, I manage to slam it close and run. The stairs lead to the ground and from there, there’s an opening that leads to the forest. With a pounding heart, I open the door, which is slightly jammed from rare use. However, when I tumble out of the opening, my attacker is waiting for me.  His face is covered with a mask, but I can’t… won’t forget the scent. A musky smell, that of forest and dirt. I scramble back, but he doesn’t let me. I feel something sharp slice across my back. I scream and fall forward as my back begins to burn as if on fire.  “Hope you die slowly, little wolf. Have a nice afterlife,” he leers, breaking into a chuckle. Tears of pain and misery blur my vision while I hear him whistle as he retreats.