Chapter 5

[Presently.....]

I woke up gasping from that nightmare again. I pushed the heavy cover off and sat up.

Heavy sweat trailed down to my chin, and a wet tank top stuck to my body like a second skin.

Alas, I am drenched with sweat.

I stood up and reached for a glass of water. After quenching my thirst, my eyes darted to see what was around me.

Cave...

I am in my cave. Not from that hellish nightmare.

I feel safe, and I am in the safest place I could be, keeping myself reminded all the time.

I was able to break free, and it was an amazing feeling!

I lost count trying to escape from that horrible place. I was determined, and because of trial and error, I became aware of my strength and destroyed his haunting castle and everything he ever worked for, destroying it to the ground.

Nothing and no one were left except me. There were no other survivors after I cleared all the cells. Either they were exterminated or they failed his last test.

I was the only survivor. That's why he was so persistent and focused on me.

Thanks to that rogue, my so-called gift awakened. How I managed to kill it was beyond what my thin body could have handled. An extreme traumatic experience in my memory that I wish I could forget.

The feeling of winning was satisfying! I tore Popa apart, piece by piece, and incinerated his zombies.

I could never forget the face he had shown me before his dying breath; a picture of his angry face flashed before my eyes. It was quite a sight for sore eyes.

There wasn't any pity in me as I took his last breath like a snap of a twig. And there he thought he could tame me. Even if he tortured me endlessly, I could not submit to him.

He did not feel remorse when he killed my cellmates and let me eat them. Why should I consider his feelings if it wasn't fair play to begin with?

I survived, and I was the one who had the last laugh.

Two years have passed, and I am now 20 years old, living in an unclaimed land.

I took the masking scent spray from the small cabinet and sprayed it all over my body till it emptied.

It was the last one remaining. I knew I would visit the small village soon and buy more of these, but I wasn't expecting it to be today.

Annoyance crept into me all of a sudden.

To be frank, I hate going outside, and meeting people drained the heck out of me. I have become a freaking introvert due to prolonged years of captivity.

Still, I am trying my best to communicate with the village folks as cordially as I can. I never wanted to see them run away from the sight of me.

And I can't blame them; my eyes weirded them enough. Even I hate my eyes.

After braiding my hair, I took my black scarf and covered my face, excluding my eyes. I put on my gloves and wore my hooded black leather coat, then went off.

The puddles splatter when my boots collide. I headed directly to the small market in the village and went to look for the spray.

The area is packed with humans and Lycans, and they coexisted peacefully.

It is forbidden to sell masking sprays, but I always have my ways. In order to remain undetected by other Lycans, it is a must-have item.

As I thought, the market around me was bustling as ever. Children ran around and played cat and mouse while their parents chased after them as they passed in front of me.

My eyes, carefully scanned the area. Vendors sell a variety of fruits and other things, such as nicknacks and flowers. The stalls were piled with two lanes, left and right.

Now I have to find that crooked man.

When I went through the busy crowd, it didn't take long for me to spot my target.

He is calling out to passersby to buy his fresh fruits, but I knew it is only a decoy.

"The moon is empty. (I need your masking spray.)" His busy eyes found mine, and he cowered; however, I got a glimpse of greed in his eyes.

The hunchback merchant before me knew the code I used to say. He glared up and said,

"Twenty pounds of gold for one," he greedily said.

The amount shocked me, and I glared at him back.

He raised the prize five times more than last time. I growled lowly, making sure to deepen my voice as I spoke.

"Pray tell that you will not be in my mercy at this moment, old man."

"They—I have no choice!" He whisper-shouted. His yellow teeth gave way as he spoke to me. He hissed. "The high-ups have raided and ransacked the domain of my supplier." His eyes darted from side to side, seemingly afraid that something or someone could be listening.

My glare didn't stop there; I continued.

"Who are they?"

He gestured his dirty fingers at me to lean forward. I raised a brow and leaned at him nonetheless.

Before he spoke, he glanced from side to side again, still being cautious of someone listening.

"The royal warriors," he whispered close to my face, afraid to be heard. The stench of his breath made me nauseated.

How many weeks did he not brush his teeth?

"The Lycan King announced his royal decree a week ago, disposed of the evidence, and killed the makers of these moons (spray)."

He didn't have to whisper; I can hear him quite well, but this merchant assumed I was human as well. Because of the masking spray, I was able to hide my real identity.

I have heard of him, the Lycan King. He was rumored to be a sadistic tyrant. Ruthless, as some humans whispered around.

The dirt on which I stood today is his land, and hopefully will not extend to mine. He detests rogues like me.

I believe he did not kill all the makers; that would be stupid of him. I have this inkling of suspicion that he ordered to kill all but secretly spared one.

Because that's how I would do it: capturing one behind and use him to his advantage.

This became critical for my existence. If I ran out of masking spray, then...