The Wolf's Tempest

5. Trapped in a Memory

A/N: I know I don't normally do these at the start but I feel I must warn you. The things that happen in this chapter will be quite graphic. Nothing happy will be happening here so just be warned. No fluff present at this time.

Tempest's POV:

"Come out come out wherever you are little pup. We only want to play!" His voice hissed, echoing slightly in my small windowless cell.

I curled up in the shaded corner,  trying to hold in the whimpers that were attempting to escape as his footsteps grew closer and closer. I could hear two more voices near the cell door as they waited there for their friend to come and get me. My breathing grew shallower and my heart slowed to a dangerous pace as I tried to force my body to be silent so that he wouldn't hurt me. Silence bought me some leeway. Any sound and I would barely be alive by the time they were done.

"I can smell your fear. It really it pathetic. You truly are nothing more than a waste of space. Your mother would have done well to just kill you before she cursed the world with your existence." He laughed, his words about my mother mocking me in the worst way possible. then again, maybe he is right, my father would never have turned against her if i hadn't been such a disappointment. she would still be alive if i was dead.

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear those thoughts from my head. They were dangerous in a place like this and if I started to think them at the wrong time, it could end in my doing something very stupid.

" Hurry it up Trent, we have places to be and I need to let off some steam before we leave!" One of my tormentors call from the doorway while the other chuckled darkly in amusement.

A hand with ice cold fingers was suddenly gripping the back of my neck, yanking me up out of my fetal position and throwing me skidding across the cold, damp concrete floor. A split second later, a hard kick landed on my side, knocking the air out of me, leaving me gasping and unable to draw in oxygen.

"Oh look, I think I took the little wolf's breath away!" Trent sneered as the other two laughed.

The man grabbed the back of my neck again, this time not letting go. Instead, he  hoisted me up and forced me to stumble forward, out of my cell and down the dark dimly lit hallway that lay outside of my cell.

I could hear faint whimpers of the other prisoners as we passed their cells on the way to what my captors had dubbed their "play room" even though the things that happened in it were anything but fun. If anything the things they did to me would be considered the worst form of torture. My once smooth childlike skin now bore the rough scars to prove it. I knew what was about to happen,I had been through it almost daily since they had brought me here and like every other day, I kept silent and kept my head down.

I watched each step I took as the pale gray floor of the hallway changed into slick white tile and the musky stench of decay that littered the cellblock was left behind as the pungent smell of bleach and isopropyl alcohol replaced it.The three men split up after we entered the room, one going to get the restraints, the other the instruments and the third lead me to the familiar stainless steel table.

 I flinched back, not wanting to climb on the cold metal and bare myself open for the torment that they had in store for me. I didn't have much of a choice as my arms were pinned behind me and I was slammed face down into the table roughly, bending me at the hips as goon number one arrived with the restraints. I squirmed, trying to get out of Trent's hold but it did no good. He was over three times my size and I was weak from dehydration and lack of food, nevermind my injuries.

"Now now little pup, we can't have you misbehaving can we? You need to take your play time like every other plaything in this place. Hold still or I'll be sure I hold to my threat from our last session." Trent threatened as he clasped the silver shackles around my bicep and  secured my hands and ankles in the leather belt straps.

I stopped fighting them, knowing that whatever he planned for me would be worse that what was happening now and there was no telling how much more I'd be able to take before breaking completely.

I was lifted off of the ground and laid none too gently on my back, causing the still healing whip marks there to sting and burn as the scabs and scar tissue were stretched on impact.

An unintentional yelp left me, earning me a hard slap from Trent before he reached to his left and brushed his gloved hand over each of the silver instruments at his disposal.

"You know," He started to speak but paused, looking down at my scarred form, "you really do look so much like your mother. From your golden hair to your tempting lips, right down to the little dimple on you left cheek. You even share the small birthmark on your inner thigh. I should know, I was a good friend of hers at one time, if you could call it that."

I glared at him as best I could, knowing what he was implying. My mother was nothing like that though, she as sweet and caring and innocent. NOT a whore. Especially not his!

His finger paused now, tapping the tool that he had chosen for today. He picked it up and balanced it on his index finger, smiling at it like he was greeting an old friend.

"But, "He continued, "there is one key difference between the two of you. Do you know what that is?"

My eyes. I have my father's eyes. I knew this but I didn't speak.

He smirked, knowing he had hit a nerve. I despised the fact that I had gotten anything from that man.

"The bitch nearly died giving birth to you, you know? " I began to shake as he now held the scalpel like a doctor, who was preparing to make an incision.

He smirked at me, the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know.

"Would you like to feel what she did the night you were born? I think it's only fair you see, seeing as how you are the reason she is dead." He laughed.

Things began to move slower then and I felt myself being pulled away from my body. It felt strange, almost like floating in air. 

I stood there, looking more like myself now. Older, Healthier, but still just as weak. I stood there and I watched as the scalpel was lowered to my stomach. I watched as the blade dragged across my skin, searing it and slicing me open. I watched as I screamed. I watched the sick look in their dark eyes as my body shot up and sunk back to the table, unmoving. Not breathing. My heart, not beating.

A/N:

Okay, so there was supposed to be more but this is like a part two to the last chapter.  I'm not happy with it but it has been far too long since the last update and I have another book I need to work on also. Let me know what you think. This is unedited so there is a slight lack of detail and possibly some grammatical mistakes.