Ghost of the Alpha

Chapter 26-Nasturtium

I ached down to my bones once conscious slowly came back to me. Lips dry. Muscles hurting. Eyes sore. My sight partially blurred before adjusting to the dim lighting of the large room. Concrete floors, crates stacked in neat rows against the far walls. Dim fluorescent lights overhead, just feet above a catwalk reaching fifty feet across from either end of the metal framed walls. No sign of a door to either side, or in front of me, and even if I could turn around, it would be hard to do so.

With the slow realization that my body has been tied down to a metal chair welded to the floor. The chains on my wrists and legs are silver, though strangely there is leather to keep the metal from burning my skin. My feet are bare, my sleep clothes still on. The inside of my mouth tastes foul, my lungs burn with each bout of air I take in. And then, there is Keres watching me from the catwalk. The mirrored glass of his helmet taunting me.

But, there is something off about him. The thought clicking in my brain once Keres stalks along the catwalk, languidly taking his time in going down the steps towards the ground. Step by step. Meticulously placed, he walks towards me. In just a matter of seconds, I know this is not the Keres that took Brenna from my mansion. This Keres is shorter than the first one. Slimmer. Not weighed down in heavy black cargo fatigues. No elaborate spray paint either on the helmet. Just simple black cotton clothes and a leather jacket covering his wounded arm.

The first one had gloves that covered the hands and fingers. Had heavy duty boots. This Keres has fingerless leather gloves. Black rubber sole sneakers. This Keres before me, is built for stealth. Made to kill quick and easy. In and out. The other one, was built to destroy without regard for being detected. That one was a fake.

But this one.

This one staring me down behind a mask of glass and plastic. This one stalking towards me, limbs long and slender at his sides. This one is the real Keres. I would know that walk and aura of calm disinterest anywhere. This is the Keres that killed my father.

"So, what now?" I sneer, keeping my body straight, not letting any sign of weakness show as Keres comes to a stop just three feet away. "What is it now that you plan to do with me? You already have what is mine locked away somewhere. What else is there for you to do? What are your plans for me? What has that sick twisted heart of yours done with my mate?"

"Oh, temper temper Alpha," Keres croons, the distorted staticky voice scolding me as if I were a misbehaving pup. "Always with the aggressive demanding tone. Always with the mine, mine, mine. You wolves sound like a bunch of harping seagulls. Wanting things. Taking things. Claiming everything you can put your filthy paws on as yours."

"Lies!" I growl, straining against the chains keeping me from tearing Keres limb from limb. "You know nothing about my kind! Nothing! You are plague to those who have been murdered by your hand. My kind has made this world change for the better, and you seek to ruin it. Like all the human Rebels, the Pride, and every other creature that wishes to destroy what my people have built."

"You mean," Keres snaps, taking one threatening step forward, head angled in such a way that the visor reflects my enraged features. "What your people stole. Everything was already built, by humans, by wolves, by the Pride, everything. We were at peace with the humans. We had everything under control, but you wolves."

Keres pauses for a moment, chuckling dryly. A sound, even though mangled by whatever voice scrambler was inside that infernal helmet, that to my surprise was awash with pain. With endless sorrow and agony. "You wolves just had to let the cat out of the bag didn't you?"

Keres turns around, walking four steps away from me, before proceeding to take out a multitude of equipment pieces from the dozens of pockets inside his leather jacket. Constructing a make shift standing camera, placing the legs and aiming the camera lens in just the right spot before turning the camera on. Keres adjusts it, making sure the entire contraption is honed in on me.