Tara’s p.o.v.
I know I should probably eat something, but with the way I’m feeling I lost all desire. Hoping my favorite streaming service will take my mind off of today’s strange events, I settle on the on the sofa and wrap myself up in the soft comfortable blanket that I always drape over the back of the cushions. Scrolling through all the different movies, series and documentaries, nothing catches my eye and with the yearning to be outside growing, I just can’t seem to wind down. With a sigh I untie myself from the fluffy fabric, maybe a nice hot shower will do the trick.
The bathroom is simple but functional. White subway-style tiles line the walls all the way up to the ceiling, a simple glass shower wall and a dark oak vanity with a wash basin on top, a plain white toilet bowl and just a single ceiling lamp, nothing to boast about, the water pressure is really good though, so the small showerhead usually does the trick of relaxing my tight muscles just fine, but not tonight. With the shower set to its hottest setting I try to scrub away my unease yet the feeling lingers. In all the time I’ve lived here and worked to make it a home, I have never felt anything but peaceful and calm and I don’t understand why tonight would be any different. Yes, my day was a bit weird, my car breaking down an terrible inconvenience, the interaction with just about everyone was strange today but that shouldn’t change the way I feel in my own home.My skin is almost fire engine red by the time I get out of the shower and quickly towel myself dry. Deciding its probably for the best just to go and get some sleep I take the few steps down the hall to my bedroom door, it’s a cozy little room, adorned with delicate lace curtains and a soft, inviting bed. The room exudes tranquility, with its soft pastel colors and floral accents, meant to offer a serene sanctuary for rest and rejuvenation.As I lay in bed, the darkness envelops me, a shroud of stillness that should bring peaceful slumber but tonight the tranquility eludes me and my mind becomes a battlefield of restless thoughts. My body tosses and turns, unable to find solace in the sanctuary of sleep. Images and fragments of the day swim before my closed eyes, refusing to fade away.Like a restless film playing on repeat, memories, worries and aspirations intermingle, creating a storm within. Each scene, each thought, feels as vivid as if it were happening in real-time. My room, which is usually a haven of comfort, feels foreign tonight, much like the rest of my home did. The once familiar contours of my pillow and sheets offer no respite, no sanctuary from the restlessness that courses through my veins. The softness of the mattress, instead of cradling me into dreams, seems to conspire with my wandering thoughts. The silence, normally a soothing companion, now amplifies the chaos in my mind. The rustling of leaves outside my window sounds like whispers, secrets shared by the night. Shadows dance upon the wall, casting eerie shapes that flicker and taunt me, as if mocking my inability to find peace.My body is exhausted, yearning for respite and pleading for rest, but my mind, stubborn and relentless, refuses to surrender to the sweet embrace of sleep. Its races from one thought to another, like a wild stallion galloping across an untamed field. Minutes turn into hours, and as the first rays of dawn slowly creep into the room, I can feel the weariness settling deep into my bones, the night, which held the promise of rest, has instead become a battleground of restlessness.As I finally succumb to the gentle pull of exhaustion, my dreams become fragmented and elusive, slipping through my fingers like ethereal wisps of smoke and as the morning sun casts its warm glow upon my face, I awaken, feeling both physically and mentally drained. I groggily get out of bed, nearly tripping over my bunny ear slippers while wrestling with my fluffy ,candy cane pink robe, my tired mind not able to comprehend that putting my left arm in the right sleeve is not the correct way and even turning it upside down wont fix the issue.After what feels like an absurd amount of time, i finally manage to wrap the cozy material tightly around my body and wrangle my feet into the equally soft and pink slippers. I know I look absurd and that this is more something a 5 year old would choose, but when I left the familiarity of my mothers so called care, I promised myself that I would one day make right the neglect I endured and if in any way possible I would grant my inner-child her every heart’s desire, so when I came across this robe and the fluffy bunny slippers, I felt the childish joy and sparkle deep within my soul, the choice between sleeping in a motel room for the night or spending yet another night in my car, was an easy one to make.That night I slept comfortably, surrounded by a warm pink cloud, on the backseat of my truck. Smiling at the memory and tucking my hands even deeper into the pockets, I make my way to the kitchen, coffee is what I need, and lots of it!I’m so terribly relieved mister Mason insisted I take the day off, claiming I needed the rest more than I needed the money, which is very strange coming from him, even Linda had looked at her husband in bewilderment and then in utter shock when he even suggested to pay me half of what I would normally make for a full shift if I promised to take some time to myself. I refused at first of course but he wouldn’t budge, so when Linda shrugged and nodded her head, I begrudgingly accepted and right now, I’m so incredibly thankful!With my large, strong black coffee in hand, I make my way to the porch and settle myself down on the rocking chair. The morning breeze carries the scent of damp earth that combines with the sweet tones emanating from my luscious flower garden, topped off with the strong aroma off my coffee finally gives me the sense of peace I was looking for all of last night. Perhaps I should have listened to that pull from deep inside and have spent a few minutes just breathing in the night air, but with the day I had, I wouldn’t have been surprised if monsters had come out of the shadows, I mock myself. After my third cup of coffee I’m beginning to feel slightly awake, but since I’m not working today, I’m not sure what to do with my time, there’s no laundry to do, the garden doesn’t need tending… then I remember how I used to love just hiking through nature during my time in Maine, I didn’t stay there that long, but the vast amount of nature did make me feel at ease more than I had in a long time.So with new found resolve I put on a pair of jeans, a simple black top and my sturdy black boots.With the memory of the unease I felt yesterday still fresh in my mind, I decide to head out to the back of the cottage, the woods look less dense in that direction and I’m hoping that will help my real-crime-documentary addicted brain to not go haywire.Tucking away the worries and cares of my day to day life, I close the garden gate behind me and step between the tall standing trees, their branches reaching upwards as if In silent praise of nature’s wonders. The soft crunch of the leaves under my feet forms a gentle rhythm, guiding me deeper into the enchanting forest. Sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. The symphony of birdsong fills the air, their melodies blending harmoniously with the whisper of leaves in the breeze. As I follow a winding path, past an ancient looking oak tree, the sound of trickling water grows louder, leading me to a hidden pond within a small clearing. My eyes widen in awe at the sight before me. Reflecting the serene sky, the pond shimmers with an inviting allure. Its surface is smooth like glass, rippling gently when a small breeze dances across its expanse.
Standing at the edge of the pond, I’m captivated by the sight of a majestic weeping willow, its graceful branches cascading downwards like a curtain of green, The delicate leaves sway softly, creating a symphony of rustling whispers. The tree seems to possess an air of ancient wisdom, its presence both comforting and mysterious. Beside the weeping willow, a large flat rock emerges from the waters edge. It beckons me to sit and immerse myself in the serenity of the surroundings, but just before I reach the stone, a deep voice rumbles right beside my ear. "baby girl"... Suddenly scared shitless I spin, pull my knife out of my boot and drop into a defensive stance. I look around, expecting some creep to be no more than a step away, but I see no one. "Hmmm, you're fast,.. good" the voice rumbles again, so close i would almost swear it actually sounded from within my head. “Who and Where the hell are you!” I shout, it remains quiet and for a moment I think it was just a figment of my overactive imagination, until I hear a deep guttural growl coming from the direction of the willow tree, I spin again, holding my knife in front of me. “show yourself” I call out but again I am met with silence. There’s a rustle coming from my left, and again that growling sound out of the direction of the weeping willow tree, fck, I think to myself when the voice suddenly rumbles, “Run baby girl, RUN!”I don’t know what’s going on but I take the voice’s advice and bolt back the way I came, I run faster than I think I ever have, my heart is pounding in my chest and my breath comes out in short labored puffs. I hear rustling from behind and what almost sounds like a huge heavy animal running right behind me. Too scared to look, I keep running until my foot gets caught by a tree root, I stumble, fall and roll, a huge black blur with enormous fangs is barreling towards me. With trembling hands I hold my knife out in front of me, I know it’s not big enough to do much against what ever that thing is, but if it’s going to kill me, at least I will cause it pain.Something light-grey flashes by right in front of me, seemingly heading straight for what I now believe to be huge black bear, I try to scramble back on my feet but slip, my head crashes against something hard and everything goes black.My head is pounding and my neck is stiff, I slowly open my eyes, it's dark with the exception of a blue-ish hue emanating somewhere to my left. As I try to sit up it feels as though my entire back has been scraped across rough tarmac… as my eyes begin to focus on my surroundings I’m flabbergasted, I’m home, on my own sofa, wearing my fluffy pink robe, a single bunny slipper dangling on the toe of my left foot and the blue-ish light, is the TV, where the streaming service is showing an image, asking if I’m still watching. What the actual hell?
Tara’s p.o.v. I’m restless. It’s been like this for a while now. There’s a burning sensation, deep within, like embers left to smolder for far too long, threatening to ignite if I don’t keep it contained. I can feel her stirring—the beast. Both of them, actually. I know it’s them, even if they’re not exactly the same, but they are. The wolf and the other.. the.. I dunno.. It doesn’t matter what they are. They are part of me, and they want out.The wolf is easier to deal with. She’s like the breeze on a warm spring day, playful, curious, and eager for a good run. I feel her nipping at the edges of my consciousness, her soft growls and happy whines as she tugs at my very essence. She’s impatient, wanting to chase, wanting to play. She’s a lot like me, in a way. Simple. Pure. She doesn’t understand the burden, the weight of everything that’s coming for me.Then there’s the other one. The one that burns and smolders beneath my skin like molten rock. The one that never sleeps, never calms
The roar of the crowd was my symphony, their bloodthirsty cheers a melody that stirred something primal within me. I sat atop my throne, the pit sprawling before me like a stage, where shifters danced to the rhythm of life and death. My necklace of trophies, claws, and fangs rattled faintly with every shift of my weight, a subtle reminder of the victories I had claimed. These beasts needed to know their place. They were born with power, yes, but that power was raw, untamed, and ultimately inferior to human ingenuity and control. I’d built this empire to show them that.Tonight, I expected no less than the usual spectacle. Two shifters entered the pit, one young and trembling, the other bruised but defiant. I leaned forward slightly, intrigued. The older one, Christian, had been a prize catch, the rogue shifter known for his cunning. Breaking him would be a triumph, I thought that takings his wife and child’s lives all those years ago would have done the trick but here he stands, capt
I watch from the shadows as Christian is dragged back to the cells. His head is lowered, his posture slumped, but there's something about him that doesn't break. His face is bloodied, a bruise already swelling beneath one eye, but his eyes, they're still burning with fire, still defiant, still unyielding. I can’t help but feel a flicker of something deep inside me. Hope? No. Maybe something worse.This place has taken so much from me,...so much from all of us. We’ve been chained and broken, forced to fight, to survive, to serve as entertainment for those who think they control our lives. And yet, here he is,..Christian, the rogue, the former guard, the legend, the one that brought bits of food and from what i heard, the one that saved so many when this all started.He’s not like the others. I can see it in the way he carries himself. The way his shoulders never fully slump, even when they shove him back into the cage. They throw him in like they’ve done to so many before him, and I can
Christians p.o.v. The cold, metallic tang of blood hangs heavy in the air as I sit shackled in this cold cage, my wrists chafed raw from the heavy silver cuffs binding me to the rusted bars. The distant echo of a roar, equal parts agony and rage, sends shivers racing down my spine. my heart is pounding, not with fear for myself but for the others, those who had been dragged into this hellish nightmare alongside me.My breath comes in ragged gasps as I strain against my bindings, my body bruised and battered from the trap and manhandling that landed me here. I underestimated them, the hunters, or Clan’s men, however you wanna call them, who ambushed me in the early morning. Somehow they’d known I’d come, known how to subdue me, and now I’m trapped in the belly of the beast.From my position, I Can hear the muffled cheers and jeers of a crowd, their voices rising in a sickening crescendo.The faint, rhythmic thudding of footsteps echo down the muddy path, growing louder with each pas
Tara’s P.o.v: I stumbled into the cottage, each step heavier than the last. My legs quivering from the punishing combat drills, my arms screaming in protest at even the slightest movement. The door creaked as it closed behind me, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. I leaned against the sturdy wooden frame, allowing myself a r moment of vulnerability, and exhale a shuddering breath.The warmth of the cottage greets me, though it does little to soothe the storm raging within. My fingers tremble as I peeled off the sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked clothing clinging to my body. The day’s training was brutal, yet it paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that had emerged in the clearing: fire. Raw, uncontrollable fire that erupted from my hands with a fierce, primal hunger. I felt its heat, saw its searing glow, but now, as I stand here, the memory feels distant, almost unreal.“What the hell is happening to me?” I whisper into the quiet room, nearly expecting so
Sam’s p.o.v.The morning light slices through the trees, golden and unforgiving. I’m standing in the center of the clearing, arms crossed, waiting and watching as Tara trudges into view. Her steps are slower today, heavier. The exhaustion from yesterday’s training obviously lingering in the tightness of her movements and the slump of her shoulders. Still, there’s that familiar fire in her eyes as she looks up towards me, like a glimmer of stubborn resolve that refusing to be extinguished.Good. She’s going to need every ounce of that stubbornness for what’s coming.I’ve seen my share of battles, but even if only half of what Linda told me will come to be, it’s going to be a suicide mission if she’s not ready.“Tara,” I called, tossing her weighted gauntlets. She caught them, though the force of the throw made her stagger a bit, her muscles must be sore. “Today, we focus on endurance.”She stared at the gauntlets, then at me. She wisely keeps any protests herself, though I saw a flicke