Red {Wolf Rebellion I}

Chapter 32~War Paint~

So c'mon, put on your war paint!

-Fall Out Boy, "The Phoenix"

Chapter 32~War Paint~

I was back in my house again, and this time the memories stayed constant, never fracturing from one scene to another.

The wolf had his hand wrapped up in my hair, pulling me down the hall as I screamed. It was so dark, I couldn't see much, but I could still hear; hear the wolves panting restlessly behind me, hear their snarls and growls as they jostled each other. The sound was so similar to that of drunk men jeering and laughing, it made my head spin. Tears streamed down my face from the pain and fear consuming me.

My head was wretched sideways, my cry exciting the wolves as they closed in. I suddenly realized how wet and heavy my shirt felt, clinging to my skin with the scent of copper and rust. Who's blood is this?

"Look here, little red." The guttural voice of the man above me caused me to shrink back. His hand came down on my tear-streaked face, and I expected him to snap my neck right there like a twig. Instead his fingers trailed down my cheek, and I tried uselessly to twist away from him. I shivered when he pulled his hand back, studying the tear he'd caught.

"Why so sad, red?" He brought his hand to his mouth, his tongue darting out to catch the tear. My tiny body shuddered, feeling sick at the sight of the animals surrounding me.

"Is it because of mommy and daddy?" His gaze turned away from me, focusing beside me, and my eyes followed his involuntarily.

I gagged at the sight beside me. Blood and gore covered the walls, dripping from them. An indistinguishable pile of body parts and insides lay only three feet away. The blood was already pooling around me, painting my skin red.

Two wolves stood against the far wall, muzzles covered with pieces of flesh and fur hanging heavy with blood.

Two severed heads lay next to them.

I tore my eyes away, gagging and retching at the horrible sight. Tears continued streaming down my cheeks, splashing down onto the floor as I struggled to breath.

Before I could blink, the man was crouched over me, his pupils blown wide as his nostrils flared. "Mmm little red, the blood is driving me crazy." He glanced back at the wolves for a moment, and when he turned back, he bared fangs. "I don't think one little taste will hurt anyone."

His fingers suddenly dug into my leg, and I screamed as fire raced through my veins. The agony was all that I could think about, I wanted it to go away. Letmedieletmedieletmedie, I wished that he would kill me already and end my pain.

But he didn't. Instead, he lifted my shirt, smearing my own blood all over my stomach as I tried to curl in a ball away from him. "Stop! Please!" I begged, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

His other hand pinned my legs down. I heard something snap a split-second before my vision went red with indescribable pain. "Whoops, sorry little red. I always forget how fragile humans are. One hand in the wrong place," he drew his hands apart in an explosion, "and they fall apart."

I was wrong, a few claw marks was nothing compared to this hell. Mercifully, the blackness closed in and covered me with numbness.

When my senses came back, I was downstairs in our living room. The wolves had destroyed it, furniture had been picked apart and thrown at walls, and wolves fought over pieces of bloody meat.

The pain suddenly returned to my body full force, and it was impossible to hold in the whimper that forced its way from my lips.

The wolves stopped fighting, looking over at me with wolfish grins on their faces. The next thing I knew, another man appeared in my vision. He trailed a hand down my face, and I felt warm liquid smear in the path of his fingers. "Hush, little red." I shrunk away from him, a new pain making itself known. My hand involuntarily pressed against my left hip, causing me to gasp at both the pain, and the sharp indentation that shouldn't have been there.