The Hunter

Chapter 6 - What am I, a pet you're picking from the store?

Chapter 6; Sage POV-

Thursday - 15th August

I didn't know how long it had been, it could have been a few mere seconds or even several hours before I began to regain consciousness. Although I was trapped in the darkness in between wake and sleep, I dimply registered the complete silence and the stench of rotten flesh and sickness. The scent was enough to make me almost gag, even when I was still half unconscious. My body felt completely and utterly tired and soon enough I gave into the temptation and drifted back into that darkness.

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This happened several times again before I regained complete conscious and I was actually able to register where I was. The stench still clung to the air and this time I could feel someone cold wrapped around my wrists. It was shackles, made out of silver. Although my wolf was blocked within my mind the silver still irritated my ski and I had to resist the urge to scratch at it.

When I finally opened my eyes it took me a minute to adjust to the dimness within the room. The only source of light in the room came from small cracks in the roof, but even then it was still hard to see.

As I looked around the room I barely resisted the urge to cry out in shock. Through the bars of the cell I was being held in were other cellars and inside those cells were almost dead looking bodies. Their skin was a sickly pale, big bangs underneath their eyes, hair all knotted and tangles, clothes torn and dirty and their body covered in wounds and scars. All these people had suffered the worst.

A strangled cry escapes between my lips as I look at them and I tug at my shackles harshly as I try to move closer to the bars of the cells.

"Darling, don't cry." I hear a raspy voice beside me.

I turn my head, noticing the thin figure in the cell next to me. His brown hair mattered, cuts and scratches of all sizes all over his body, but it wasn't any of those things that made me choke on a sob. It was the look of defeat in his dull blue eyes. Blue ones I knew had once been filled with happiness and joy.

"Trent?" I choked out, dragging my weak body along the floor closer to him.

He chuckles, but it sounds more like a cough. "The one and only."

"We thought you were dead, we couldn't find your body anywhere after the battle." I cried, my face centimetres away from the bars. I didn't plan on touching them as I could already assume that they had been coated in silver to prevent us from escaping

"I think I'd prefer to be dead right about now." He murmured, leaning his head back against the wall with a sigh.

"Don't say that." I cried. "Bella still needs you and so does your son."

Trent looks up at me with interest. "Son?"

"Yes, she gave birth to him two months after the attack. He looks like you." I tell him, a faint smile spreading across my lips as I notice a flicker of happiness and pride appear in his eyes. "He has your blue eyes and brown hair."

"What is his name?" He asked.

"Jeremy." I answer.

"Jeremy, my son." He says, the corner of his lips pulled upwards in a weak smile. He winced seconds later, obviously any sort of movement hurt. "I wish I could see him."

"You will, we'll get out of here." I say sternly, quickly looking around the room before I look back at Trent.

Trent shakes his head slowly. "No one has ever escaped from this place, anyone who gets in here stays here until they die." He mumbled absently, as if he had spoken those words before.