A secret that wasn't chosen.

Chapter 1

Silvan's POV:

A sob was trying to find his way out, but I desperately was suppressing any noise that implies that I am in pain. I can't be hurting. I can't be sad. And I can't be weak. Weakness..I can't show.

Because if I show them that, the pain won't ever stop. They like to see me hurting, burning under their fiery, sadistic eyes and they find pleasure in wounding my already broken heart.

But maybe I am not broken yet?

Numbness should have spread throughout my wounded body if it were so. Pain should make me happy- because then I will know I have survived.
Survived because every burn, every scar and every drop of crimson-red blood means one day more that I survived.
I can't stop. Can't stop my quivering fingers from clenching into a fist. A fist, so pale that you can see every vein, every scar and so thin, it is almost laughable to be threatening.

This hellhole that they call home. I just want to run until my legs give out and until my lungs collapse.
I am sorry. I am so sorry. But I can't anymore. I am caged here. Maybe forever. I lost every will to live. Please forgive me, big brother and little one.

My fight against that cruel fate that is my life is useless. It was always futile.
The room is so dark. There is no one expect me. I am alone. Just really alone and that's scaring me.

I try to stand up, to heave my heavy body up and to get closer to the door. My shackles are the only noises in the almost empty room.
The disgusting noise of metal chains colliding with the cold, stony floor was scraping against my sensitive organ of hearing.
My ears were ringing and my head was pounding pretty hard. I felt
the still healing wound on the back of my head.

After many vain attempts of standing up, my knees were scrapped after failing so many times. Even then I couldn't give up. My arms propped my still sore torso up and I dragged my knees closer to my trembling arms so that I could stand up.
My raw, fleshy kneecaps grinded on the dirty concrete floor. I wrinkeld my nose in disgust and absolute agony. The squelchy sound was turning my already churning stomach. I didn't eat for 79 days already. A human would be already dead. But me as a werewolf was alive.
No wait, today is the eighty jubilee.

I had to laugh at that thought, which proved to be a bad idea. My lungs couldn't keep up with the needed intake. I had to bend my upper body towards the floor in the attempt to touch the ground with my forehead and use the coldness to ease the burning that spread over my body. Maybe I am going to die today, I thought hightly. The end that always scared me, was now my hope.
When I thought about the round number which will mark my end, I was soothed. I love round numbers. They were always my friends, they always appeased my strained nerves and I always saw them as a warm light. Even now I was relieved.
I am in so much pain that my thoughts kept going in weird directions to avert my attention away from my circumstances and from tomorrow. My heart twisted when I remembered what was coming tomorrow. I trembled even harder and tears began to find their way in my gazed eyes.

My knees yielded under my weight and only my arms prevented that my face and the floor establish close ties. But the pressure on them was too much and shortly after they also gave in.

The side of my head meet the hard ground and bounced slightly before coming to a hold. My breath was being taken away.

Combined with my burning lungs I was frantically gasping for breath while I crumbled the thin cloth above my galloping heart. I was passing out.

My eyes were closing itself and darkness was trying to engulf and swallow me. I was desperately trying to fight back. Under all exertion of the little strength that I possessed I fought against the fatigue to keep me awake.

Memories of happy days, of my brothers and of my friends dying and suffering for me rapidly flashed before my unfocused eyes. I have to live, no matter what.

"I will kill them all", was my last thought before I slipped in the seductive darkness.
This words were hollering in my hollow and dimming mind. The reason why I am living.