Alpha Axel

Fifteen

I forced my eyelids open and sat up against the concrete wall, my body screaming in protest at the minimal movements I tried to make. My body was coated in dried blood that flaked off my skin, and my wounds were warm to the touch with a sickly green color. They were clearly infected, but it's not like I could just politely ask for a rag to clean them or medicine. 

Time had passed, and my neck burned with every movement I made. The skin was charred and blistered from the knife, the once beautiful mark carved from my body like a disease. My heart ached with the unfamiliar loneliness that the few ties that connected Axel and I had taken up. His familiar presence in the back of my mind was just a hollow space where darkness crept.

My lips were cracked and my tongue dry, the air stifling down here with the amount of tortured souls. People passed by my cell, the now-familiar screams just white noise as the guards dragged people to and from that white room. 

Jackson had visited multiple times, his cowardly ignorance even making him come into my cell a few times, but once I cracked his nose against the stone, he preferred to stay outside the silver bars. Most of the time I just looked at him, watching his movements as he cried and begged for forgiveness. 

I didn't even waste my breath on him. 

Weeks had passed, my sleep and sanity began to muddle, and between the sedative-laced food, I hardly knew what was happening anymore. I vaguely remember someone coming in to clean my wounds a few times, the fresh gauze now laced across my wounds. I still reeked of burning flesh, my clothes soiled and stained.     

Someone clicked their tongue, their body leaning against the bars, and I recognized his chuckle before he leaned forward enough for his face to catch the dim lights. 

"Damn, sis. You sure do look like hell." Lane pulled a key out and unlatched the door before stepping in, the guards sliding the door closed behind him. I lazily rolled my head to the side, my body and mind both too weak and frustrated to even care what he has to say. He leaned down and handed me a water bottle, and I reached forward to knock it out of his hand. His face became red with anger and he spat at me, his saliva landing on my cheek. 

I smirked at his tantrum, and that seemed to set him off even more. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me down so I was laying down on the concrete floor. He undid the water bottle's cap and forced my mouth open. He slowly began to pour the water into my mouth, holding my nose closed as he did. I began to choke on the water, my lungs burning for air as my torture continued. 

I screamed and thrashed around, the chains around my wrists digging into my skin, but he held onto my face with a deathly grip. I continued to feel like I was drowning, the water coming in a steady stream, until Lane released his grip on my head, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. I rolled to my side and vomited the water and whatever food remained in my stomach onto the concrete floor. 

Coughs racked my already damaged and exhausted body, taking all my energy until I was sure that there was nothing else I could vomit up. I pulled on the chains, reaching up to wipe my mouth off, the bitter taste of vomit lingering on my tongue. 

I rolled back over to see Lane standing over me, but my eyes wandered over to the figure in the doorway. Jackson stood behind the bars, his face and arms pressed against them as tears stained his face. Heavy bags were under his eyes, and he probably looked almost as bad as I did. I pushed myself up to a sitting position and looked at my former beta sweetly, my lips curling over my teeth. I held his stare and ran my thumb over my neck like I was slashing it open, and my smile grew as Jackson flinched back. 

A small chuckled rumbled through my body until it turned into a full-hearted, sadistic laugh. My head whipped sideways and my cheek stung as Lane slapped me, but that only caused my entire body to rumble with the sick joke. Tears stung my eyes as his fists began to land on my body until it hurt to even breath, but yet a small chuckle still rolled from my tongue.