The thirst. The burning, aching thirst, thrived in all of us. It was buried deep, nestled in the crook of my under belly beneath my breast and it festered. It writhed for the taste of air. It urned to spread its wings and be set free. It craved freedom. I craved freedom. We all did.
Everybody was slowly falling weaker, the newest additions to our group weren't used to the demanding labor yet and continuously slowed us down, which made the veterans even more testy than usual. But testiness didn't fly here. So we were forced to do twice the usual amount of work as a disciplinary precaution. Because everyone knows testiness leads to questioning, and questioning leads to defiance. Defiance, the big D word. It even sounded foreign, and risky in my head. So, I thought about it everyday. Defiance, defiance, defiance. It was like music to me. Breaking the rules, going off schedule, talking back, it would be like sweet relief for even a moment of being defiant. But that isn't who I'm allowed to be. It isn't how I'm allowed to act. It isn't acceptable. And acceptance is key to everything.
People sighed with relief as a loud bell signaled through the air, letting us know we were released for the day. I couldn't help but let my own shoulders slump as I wiped my brow, successfully ending up with dirt on my forehead, but exhaustion and the splitting pain coming from lifting my arm prevented me from caring.
A screeching voice yelled as one of the newbies couldn't control themselves and started to show their wolf side, followed by a quick flick of the wrist and a clean, sharp echoing sound of a whip cut through the air and was met with flesh, making a clean cut and tear. Everyone could hear it easily rip through his sensitive young skin, smell the fresh wound open, see the blood start to ooze out, before it tried to stitch it self back together, the skin slowly, burning, lacing it self closed as the tendons tried to repair themselves, but it is quickly re-opened with another flinch of the Keeper's hand, the process easily disturbed and broken. Then again. Again. Ten times, turns to twenty, and then it just seems to drag on, never stopping, but soon it happens. We all sense it, and the Lykan in all of us yearned for his pour soul. His awfully shattered soul. With a final lash, he breaks, crying out and falling to his knees, making the Keeper bare jagged, yellow teeth. A sick sense of a smile, in bittersweet satisfaction.
"Everyone to your cells!" A guard yelled once the Keeper was done making an example out of the Lykan and had exited sight. The crowd quickly dispersed, thinning out until it was just a few stragglers, me, and the boy laying crippled in a blood pool in the middle of the barrack, remained. I took a slow, hesitant step towards the bloodied heap of bones that barely still resembled anything living, but was stopped short. I looked at the small bright red dot on my chest, aimed perfectly over my barely beating heart, and glared at the guard aiming from the rafters above, before backing away, heading for my living quarters. Checking on his well-being wasn't worth getting killed over. It was an awful way to think, but this was life. Or at least some twisted form of it.
The cold burn of hunger seared through my rib cage and spread throughout my body in form of nerve ending pain. We hadn't eaten since the last full moon. We had no sense of time, but it was in our nature to know when the moon was out. We were weak, underfed, and filthy. But this was no different than any other day. Besides the new pack that was brought in yesterday, the lashing today, and the rumors of an escape, nothing was out of the ordinary. Our version of normal was do what the guards tell you, avoid the Keepers, don't stand out. I could remember those three rules being drilled into our heads from before I could even remember.
The sound of the cell next to mine opening broke my train of thought, as the guards threw the beaten Lykan to the dark, damp floor. I peered through my bars at the tattered body, groaning and rolling on his stomach. Others did the same, but most just growled at him to try and shut him up.
"If you don't stop soon, you'll just get more," I whispered out my cell to his. I only received a grunt in return. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
I didn't bother trying to reason with some hard headed guy who was still thinking with his wolf and left his head out in the freedom, which he no longer had. He'd get use to it soon enough though. We all do.
I jumped with a start when I felt something ice cold seeping through my cell suit. I arched my back and hissed as the murky substance formed a pool around me and the chills settled into my bones. I shivered and wiped the sleep from my eyes, trying to piece together my whereabouts. My back cracked with a series of pops as I pushed myself off the cold, stone floor.
"Hurry it up," a rough voice urged me, followed by a shove causing me to stumble out of the dark cell. I walked, too tired to protest as we made our way down the levels of the Lykan holding area. A soft pur of noise echoed and lightly shook the concrete walls, but the further we got from the others and the closer we got to the arena , the slow rumble turned into fast-paced, cheering and ear bleed screaming.
My chest pumped with a quick jerk of my heart beating against my rib cage, effectively clearing the grogginess from my mind, as soon as we reached a door that lead to the arena. My eyes widened in alertness as I put the pieces together and the guard punched in a series of codes, revealing a burst of light, causing me to blink several times to adjust my eyes to the brightness. The man, again, shoved me through the door and suddenly I was surrounded hundreds of thousands of people shoved into stands, their white clothed bodies writhing together as they all stood on their feet and screamed from the top of the their lungs.
A girl stood at the other end of the arena, straight across the brown, sandy floor from me. She was in stained, dirty clothes, just like me. She was confused and dazed, just like me. She was frightened and scared, just like me. We both knew what we had to do, and we both knew what would happen if we did not do, what we had to.
She narrowed her eyes at me, that fear replaced with determination, before she let out a cry so shrill and so full of anguish it could only be described as a battle cry. She ran at me, as fast as her malnourished body could carry her without collapsing in on itself, yet i just continued to stand there and let her charge me. I gasped for air under her weight, as her body rocketed into mine and forced me to the ground. Cheers erupted throughout the crowd at the act of meaningless violence and encouraged the girl on top of me to beat me while I was down, without hesitation. She banged her fists into me with blow after blow, and I saw bursts of color among the white that surrounded, no suffocated me.
I did not mind the pain though, as I laid there and let her beat me into a sweet oblivion, the pain was good and real, two things I could have sworn did not exist anymore. Never had I ever welcomed pain like this, but I could not help but embrace it wholeheartedly as she grunted from the exertion and force she was inserting into my sides, skull, and chest through her fists. I could feel the blood pooling around me as I slowly dipped out of consciousness.
She stopped momentarily when she saw all the blood and stumbled off of me, wiping the thin layer of sweat that she had formed over her oval face.
"Finish her! Finish her! Finish her!" a slow chant broke out and pretty soon it seemed the stadium itself was chanting and jumping along with the Pures.
She looked around, hopelessly looking for any other way out. Hopelessly looking for anyway to show me mercy and spare my life. But coming up empty, she whispered a hushed apology, to me, herself, or God I'll never know, but I did not blame her. In fact, I applauded her for her bravery, because I knew I would never be able to live with myself if I did what she was about to do.
I could not help but think that this was the end for me. I could not help but think of all the things I had not gotten to do, or see. I had never tasted freedom, yet I had never felt so close to it lying there, slowly bleeding to death on a dirt floor surrounded by people that thought I deserved to be beaten to death and enjoyed my pain. But in the end, in my final moments, when that girl brought back her foot and swiftly collided with my skull, whipping my head around, everything went dark. Then there was nothing. No pain. No Pures. No nothing.
And I welcomed it.
YOU ARE READING
UnPure
Fantastique"For years now the Humans have been at war. Not with each other. No. We've found a new enemy. We first found out about the UnNaturals when they were in a war of their own. We of course had to get involved. They took many of us prisoners and for cent...
