!!!! TRIGGER WARNING !!!! CONTAINS RAPE !!!!
WG-02.
Some time ago.
I've dealt with a lot up until this point. I'm proud to say that through it all, I have not broken. All my life I've known pain. I've grown up on it. Lived it, learnt it, tasted it. I know pain. I have been pushed to the furthest limits imaginable. Both in mind and body. And I've still not broken. I am stronger because of how far I have been pushed. I have endured and survived more than anyone else possibly could. I have been moulded into the ultimate weapon, created from pain to cause havoc. I am the shadow in the dark, the monster under the bed. I am the bringer of death. Nothing could ever break me. But this... This is unlike anything else that I have endured before. This is beyond the point of physical pain and mental torture. This is worse. This is a line I was naive enough to believe would never be crossed. This
Whiskey.I struggled to my feet and swallowed the whimper that nearly came out. No crying. Monsters don’t cry. One lashing for one tear.Growing up, Ilearned quickly not to cry. The scars on my back are a testament to my lesson. One tear, one lashing. My scars are years old now. No tears mean no lashings, so I letnonefall. I limped to the small sink in the corner of my room and turned on the tap. As per usual, the water was freezing. I cupped my small hands under the stream to catch the water, then gently placed my face into the collected water. I ran my wet fingers over my beaten face, letting the moister wash away the blood. I cupped my hands again and washed more water over my face. I did this until the water that dripped from my face lost its red tinge.
Whiskey. If I change without permission, the punishments that I endure are unlike anything else. They have this purple liquid, and when they inject it into me, it’s like I am burning from the inside out. It's the worst punishment by far. “Oh, please give me a reason to hurt you” Spencer sneered down at me. Heknelt downbeside me, right next to my face. He grabbed my chin and turned my head so that I would look at him. “Show me the monster, then I can really have my fun with you. Johnny Boy had his turn last night, now I want mine” he hissed
Whiskey. I hate this place. I hate this smell. The stench of wet dog and fear.It’srepugnant. When someone dies suddenly, they leave behind the stench of their last thoughts.I'vecome to find that most of the time those thoughts are ones of fear. I hate the smell of it.It'swhat comes after, that I like the most. The scent of death. Blood, mixed with pain and a hint of helplessness, all thrown together with the scent of decaying flesh. That is the smell I like. That is what I want to be able to smell all day. If I could, I wouldinfusethe horrendous sent into a perfume and wear it daily. The bringer of death, carrying with her the scent of your doom. Sounds gooddoesn’tit. This tedious task is st
Whiskey. “Watch the screen” he snapped. He let go of my chin and backed away from me, letting the screen come back into view. The pictures began to change in quick succession, flicking through the gruesome images. It stopped again on another wolf, its belly was cut open and its guts were spilled out on the ground. The chair warmed again, and for a brief second, Iwasn’tcold. Then it changed to a small group of giant wolves, all standing together with their big teeth facing at the camera. The collar whirled to life and the pain shot through me once again. I trembled and shook violently as I screamed in pain.I'mnot going to be able to hold out too much longer. The electricity stopped and I took a large gasp of air. I was panting and sweating, but no tears fell. I think dying would be easier than this. Iwouldn’teven care how painful the death was,as long asit resulted in me not being here any longer. I wo
Whiskey.I searched the village before it got too dark. It was only a small one. I'd say home to maybe less than sixty. Well, was home to them, not anymore. I did manage to find the pack library after a bit of ransacking. It was quite small, but the books and scrolls were very old, the oldest one dating back six hundred years. It was a journal kept by an Alpha at the time. He had decent handwriting, though my old Russian was a little rusty, so a lot of the text was a mystery to me. The yellowing pages were filled with pictures and diagrams and detailed notes. One word stood out among the rest.Boginya.Goddess. I read through the journal a bit more, until I was fully satisfied. This pack havedefinitely hadcontact with the Moon Goddess, or at least one of her descendants. I slipped the journal into my bag to go through more thoroughly another time.
Whiskey.As I watched the blissful and unaware smile on her face, an idea popped into my mind. I smirked down at the two bodies and slipped my blade away, then I went about putting my idea into motion. Silently I moved around the bed, the whole time the woman stayed peacefully asleep, completely unaware of the scare she was about to get. I rolled the dead man's face in his own blood, covering him all over. Then very gently I grabbed the woman’s hands and covered them in the blood as well. As I smeared the blood over the sleeping woman’s hand, I couldn’t contain the evil smirk that spread across my face. She was stupid to let her guard down. She was more stupid to get involved with a man. Love is weakness. She'll learn. I'm making sure of that. Once they were both sufficiently covered in blood, I pulled out the knife I stole from the last room and stabbed a few more holes into the dead man’s upper body. Then I gently placed th
Whiskey.I have been moulded into the perfect weapon, able to kill and destroy anyone that I come face to face with. And this human thought he could take me out with a mere bullet. So naive and clueless.His mouth dropped open as he realised that he missed meboth times, then he proceeded to empty his magazine. Firing shot after shot until he had nothing left. My body moved and glided through the air, dodging the bullets effortlessly. As I straightened my posture and glared over at him, he dropped the gun and raised his hands in surrender. A laugh burst forward before I could stop it.
Zelena. When I woke in the morning, the bed was empty. I reached out my hand and felt the space beside me, it was cold. Gunner has been gone for a while. Panic set in immediately. He couldn’t have left without saying goodbye, he wouldn’t do that, at least I don’t believe he would. I pulled on a pair of shorts and one of Gunner’s t-shirts and raced downstairs. I checked his office first, nothing. Then I checked the hall and the library, again nothing. I pushed open the kitchen door and found Nat sitting at the bench, playing absentmindedly with her bowl of cereal. “Have you seen Gunner?” I asked her as I stepped up beside her, but she didn’t respond. “Nat, have you seen Gunner this morning?” I asked again, but still got no response. What the fuck is her problem? What have I done to warrant being ignored. I hit her on the shoulder with the back of my hand and she jumped and squealed, dropping her spoon and spinning around to glare at me, “What the fuck