Without a moment's thought, she bolted from her house, traversing the familiar path toward the forest that loomed beyond the mansion. Barefoot and clad only in her pyjamas, she followed the call of the mournful howl as her guide.
She halted abruptly, her breath catching in her throat as she beheld a small, unyielding metal door flanked by two imposing guards. The moment they turned their gaze upon her, one of them exclaimed, "Luna?!"
She strode towards them, resolve etched in her features. "Luna, you shouldn't be here," one of the guards stammered, feebly attempting to restrain her. In response, she spat out, "Don't touch me," her voice a chilling whisper that sent both guards stumbling backwards as if they'd encountered a spectre.
"B-but, Luna—"
"Open the damn door."
"We can't, Luna. We must obey our Alpha's order," the guard protested, his voice quivering under the weight of her dark gaze. The intensity of her stare bore into him, and he instinctively lowered his head, exposing his throat in a display of submission. With an ethereal authority, she repeated, "Open the door."
With renewed obedience, the guards scrambled on all fours, hastily unbolting the door as if their very lives depended on it. She stormed inside, her heart racing with both anticipation and dread.
The sight that greeted her was a bitter revelation. Before she lay an underground prison, a haunting realm reminiscent of the worst nightmares: guards stood vigil at every corner, numerous cell doors starkly dividing the sullen inmates, each one a testament to despair.
"Lu—Luna?"
"Luna?"
"Luna, you can't be down here!"
Every guard present felt the air shift, startled by her arrival, her demeanour betraying a singular determination that rendered their fleeting protests meaningless. What startled her most was not just the grim setting, but the prison's unnerving cleanliness – a deceptive façade hiding the hell within.
As she traversed deeper, a piercing howl erupted from her left, slicing through the silence like a knife. Driven by instinct, she made her way toward the cacophony, her pulse quickening with each step.
At the last room, furthest from the wretched centre, two burly guards stood like stone sentinels, blocking her path with menacing glares.
"Move," she commanded, authority dripping from her words.
"Sorry, Luna, but no," one guard retorted defiantly.
"Can't do it; Alpha's orders," the other echoed, an arrogance lacing his tone.
"Move, or I will break you both," she snarled, her patience thin as fog rolling in at twilight.
"We won't move," they replied in unison, their bravado faltering against her fierce resolve.
At that moment, a savage howl erupted from within, a spine-chilling sound that coiled around her like burning chains. Pain flared in her neck, wrist, and ankle as if they were all engulfed in flames. She hissed, howling in agony, nearly collapsing at the feet of the obstinate guards, cradling her wounded body.
"Luna!" they gasped in unison, concern creeping into their tones.
"Luna, are you okay?"
"I'm fine; now please, open the door!" Her voice cracked, a tremor lacing her words that begged for aid.
One guard, guilt-ridden, knelt before her, desperation in his eyes. "I wish I could help you, Luna, but we can't."
"Open the goddamn door!"
YOU ARE READING
The One
FantasíaA regular bedtime story that was being told as a small kid turns into recurrent dreams as an adult then dismisses them as childhood imaginings. But as she passes her 21st birthday suddenly her dreams of wolves become more vivid, more realistic, a dr...
