Chapter 2: Home is Where Misery is

My hiss was my only reply as something rock-hard and strong collided with my jaw. A punch. A punch from a Beta with a silver gauntlet on his hand crafted like a woman’s jewelry.

My blood, warm and red, gushed out from my nose. There’s blood now, and I’m surprised-but-not-so-surprised. I was thrown sideways, stunned from the pain. 

But then another brutal blow to my face awaited.

Another Beta struck on the other side of my face and shoulder.  Bones crunched—my fucking bones. How many more bones are they going to break? Can’t they see that we—I—have suffered enough from the attack yesterday?!

My legs twisted beneath me, and the Beta’s silver gauntlet grated against my cheek as it punched me again. I ricocheted away, but met with the fist of another Beta—a blonde one whose hands were caked with as much dirt and blood as my own. I didn’t glimpse his face.

From the shouts behind me, I know my fellow Omegas are being beaten as well. Another punch hit me and it was like being slugged with a brick. Crunch, crack. Bone crunch, bone crack.

I think there were three of them, and I became their living punching bag—passed off from blow to blow from these Betas, my bones screaming in utter agony. Maybe I was screaming in agony, too. But I didn’t care.

Not when a younger Omega, probably just around fifteen, wept behind me as she was repeatedly kicked by the same three Betas that made fun of me.

Blood sprayed from my mouth, and its metallic tang coated my tongue before I could draw my next breath.

And then there was darkness.

***

My head hurt the most.

I blinked repeatedly and waited for my senses to slowly return, each pain registered in my mind one by one. Each one is more painful than the last.

My fingers twisted out of place. Dry blood coated my hair and head. There were lashes from my face, thanks to the small pool of water near me I am able to see those. I’m not just gonna look at my arm and legs since I know those are the parts the Betas probably enjoyed carving with wounds and gore the most.

The sound of dripping water first hit me, then the fading echo of heavy footsteps lingered nearby. No sky above me, only the cold damp walls.

‘Put them in The City Under. I’ll be in my private residence,’ the Alpha had said.

So this is probably The City Under, where the Omegas dwell. Where poor unfortunate souls reside.

A bright coppery taste coated my mouth—my blood.  The tang of mold and the reek of mildew scented the damp, cold air. I don’t even know how I can see properly considering this place is foreign to light and sun. Then I looked ahead and realized there were the dancing flames of the torches.

At least they put torches.

Sharp bits of hay jabbed my cheek as I eased myself in a sitting position. ‘Yes, I am in some sort of a cell in The City Under’ I thought. ‘But they’ll be kidding me if this is my room as well.’

I glimpsed at the hay. ‘Well it’s possible that this could be my room and my cell…’

I licked my lower lip and my tongue discovered the makings of a split lip. The movement set my face on fire. Wincing, I opened my eyes, but could only manage to widen them a little—swelling. What I beheld through my undoubtedly black eyes didn’t do much to lift my spirits. 

If I have any spirit left.

I was in a prison cell—and probably my room for the rest of my miserable fucking life. How could I have the guts to still call that I have a spirit?

I am their prisoner, their Omega. Their slave. All survivors of wars and pack attacks are, especially for Omegas like me. Especially to Omegas like me.

Sometimes I think that living is worse than dying, especially being under a new rule of an Alpha. And when you’re an Omega.

My only sources of light were the torches beyond the door were not enough to see things. 

Well, I am below the ground. Literally. So it’s safe to assume I am also sharing a home with rats, worms, and Goddess knows what else. 

Contrary to the beautiful modern aesthetics of The City Above, The City Under seemed to originate since the medieval era that the Alphas that ruled never bothered to renovate or at least put modernity in its walls.

A heavy footstep echoed to where I am, nearer and nearer. It became mysteriously near. Panic rushed through my bones, my blood. I gritted my teeth. 

Who would visit me here? No one would. Unless its—

The footsteps stopped at the threshold of my room-prison.

I didn’t even have the nerve to flinch as the eyes of Alpha Cain surveyed me from head to toe, before striding inside.