School of Affliction

6

The dungeon was a world apart from the brutal training grounds above. 

I was unceremoniously thrown into a cell, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind me with a resounding clang. The impact rattled my already frazzled nerves. I lay on the hard, unforgiving floor, shivering from both the cold and the residual adrenaline that coursed through my veins.

 As I pushed myself into a sitting position, I could feel the dull throb of my fox form fading away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

The cell was small. The stone walls were lined with old, faded scratches, evidence of past occupants who had likely spent their own share of time here. A single, thin mattress was shoved into one corner, its surface stained and threadbare.

As I sat there, trying to regain my composure, I heard a shuffling sound from the adjacent cell. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I turned my head, straining to see through the dim light. A young man with tousled hair and piercing green eyes was sitting on the edge of his mattress, his expression one of curious interest mixed with a hint of empathy. He wore a simple, ragged uniform, and the chain linking his leg to the wall clinked softly as he moved.

"New here, aren't you?" His voice was surprisingly gentle, considering the roughness of his appearance.

I narrowed my eyes, still on edge. "I guess you could say that," I replied, my voice hoarse.

He gave a small, sardonic smile. "Name's Finn."

"Vera Nightshade." I crossed my arms, trying to keep some semblance of dignity despite being naked and covered in mud.

Finn's eyes softened with understanding. He reached for a small pile of clothes in his cell without missing a beat. He picked out a simple, ragged shirt and tossed it through the bars, the fabric landing just shy of my feet.

"Here," he said, his voice gentle.

I hesitated for a moment before picking up the shirt. It was worn and slightly damp but far better than nothing, so I pulled it over my head. "Thanks," I muttered, adjusting the shirt as best as I could.

 I couldn't help but notice the scent clinging to the fabric—an unusual mix of earth and a smokey smell, not a smell I was used to. It was oddly comforting.

"No problem. It's not much, but it should help keep you a little warmer."

There was something different about him, not only his smell. I wanted to ask him what his animal was, but I was afraid I would make him mad and lose my only companion.

So, Finn," I said, trying to sound casual, "what exactly are you in for? Not that it's any of my business." I laughed.

He chuckled softly, though his smile had a trace of sadness. "It's not so much about what I'm in for. It's more about what  I am."

I tilted my head, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Finn's expression grew thoughtful, "Let's just say that some things about me don't fit the usual mold."

I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh, so you're saying you're not just another guy in a dirty cell?"

Finn's smile widened, showing a flash of amusement. "Something like that."

"And here I was, thinking I was the only one with issues," I smirked.

"Well, if you're going to be stuck here with your issues, at least I am in good company." 

Finn and I settled into a comfortable silence. The only sounds were the distant drips of water and our breathing.

I must have dozed off because I was awakened by heavy footsteps echoing through the dungeon. They were getting closer, accompanied by the low, desperate whimpers of someone in pain. My body tensed, and I could see Finn's posture stiffen also.

 A group of guards emerged from the shadows, dragging a student between them. He was barely conscious, his body limp and covered in bruises. His clothes were torn, revealing deep gashes on his arms and legs. Blood stained the ground as they pulled him along.

My breath caught in my throat as I recognized him. It was Gregor—the bear shifter I had fought in the arena. His once formidable presence was reduced to a pitiful, broken form.

"They're taking him to the labs," Finn whispered. "If he's still alive, he won't be for long."

"What's going to happen to him?"

Finn looked at me, his eyes dark with anger. "He won't survive the night. The experiments they perform down here are brutal—designed to push shifters to their limits, to see what it takes to break us."

"This is why they brought us here," Finn continued, "not to help us but to exploit us. To use our abilities against us and turn us into something monstrous."

I clenched my fists, anger bubbling up inside me. I realized the school was far more dangerous than I had ever imagined. The students here weren't just being trained—they were being groomed for something far darker.

I had to get out of here.