Oh fuck.
That was the first thought that popped into my head. People gasped all around me, but I heard the intercom over all that, and what I heard sounded like some Hunger Games/Maze Runner type shit. And not the good kind.
From what I heard over all that gasping and crying, we were going to have to head to the arena immediately and have the trials start in 15 minutes. 15 minutes! That was hardly enough time to take a shower and get ready for an occasion, much less the start to the most important period of my life!
Needless to say, I was panicking. Obviously. I turned around swiftly, nearly knocking mini Cora off her feet in my hustle. "Woah woah woah there!" she squeaked, stumbling backward.
"Sorry," I muttered, not really caring. I sprinted off back towards my rickety, rotting, and dying house. The wooden boards were mildewy and rotted. The door had peeling paint, was rusty, and practically falling off the hinges. The windows were absolutely shattered, and sharp shards of glass littered the porch floor. I attempted to avoid them, but one of them pierced my foot. I grunted in pain but kept walking- not caring if the cut got worse.
Behind me, mini Cora- I mean Avery- called out in annoyance. "Yeah, sure! Ignore the little kid after you practically knocked her over! Whatever. Screw you!"
If I had been fully listening, I probably would've chuckled, but I wasn't. I just ignored her and kept on walking.
I walked in to see the beautiful sight of my passed out drunk mother lying on the couch, her best friend the beer bottle in her hand.
I sighed but continued on my journey to the dungeon, aka basement, aka my bedroom. I sighed once more.
My bedroom was a wreck. I tried to ignore it as much as possible, but in broad daylight, it was nearly impossible to ignore. I had done the best I could to make it pretty and nice, but there was only so much you could do.
The sheets and pillowcases were turquoise, but they were slightly stained and odorous because we didn't have a washer. Cora had helped me paint the walls a pretty yellow when I was in third grade, but you could hardly tell because there were bunches of papers and posters hung up. I had a dresser next to my bed that I had salvaged from the dumpster and painted the same color as the sheets. I had a supply closet for my closet and I'll leave the bathroom up to the imagination. I had several DIY rugs that were mix-matched on the floor, and a had a quilt of old t-shirts. The only new thing in my room was my lava lamp sitting on the dresser next to my bed. I had saved up to buy that recently.
I gazed around my oddly assorted room, and a tear leaked from my eye. This had been my childhood. A room full of mold and rot. How depressing is that? I threw on a hand-me-down stained muscle shirt from Ruby (a training buddy) and some old, too short gym shorts. After all, if they were going to throw away our clothes, why not make them bad ones? Of course, all my clothes were bad so....
Whatever. I hid my kindle under one of the DIY rugs that I failed, tossed my hair into a ponytail, swiped on some chapstick, tied my sneakers, and jogged up the stairs and out the door.
I didn't have a watch to check the time so I checked Kiera (another training buddy). Even if her mom wasn't batshit crazy (just like my mom), she would still run and work out like crazy. Her calves were like rocks, and she had a perfectly toned body. Plus, she had all the new gear, including a Fitbit, which is what I was after now.
I jogged along quickly- knowing Kiera, she'd be at the front of the crowd- and scouted around for a purple ombré ponytail.
Finally, after about 3 hours (more like 3 minutes) of jogging, I spotted the purple ombré ponytail and toned body. I sidled up to her smoothly and sneakily tried to check her Fitbit. She snatched her hand away.
"Nope."
"What?!" I desperately asked, sounding crazy, even to myself.
"You heard me. Nope."
"And why the hell not?!"
"We're here." She nodded forwards, and sure enough, we were. I guess I had been so caught up with failing at life, that I didn't notice we were here.
I slowed to a halt quickly, nearly giving Kiera whiplash from looking back so quick at me. She winced and rubbed her neck. "You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Then let's go."
------------------
I nearly growled out loud as the guard snapped on the silver cuff onto my wrist that both acted as a tracking device and didn't allow me to shift. This thing made me feel confined and claustrophobic. I hated it already.
I also hated the outfits. I mean, I'm not one for fashion but really? A baggy tan top and black leggings? Ew. That's what I was wearing. And it was hideous.
But nevermind.
We entered the actual arena part- filled to the brim with about 300 other contestants and only 200 spectators. And this was only in the Omega Quarter!
Wait. Let me explain something about our pack. It's huge, so the founders of the pack decided to divide it into to quarters. The highest class quarter was the Alpha Quarter, basically where the best fighters and the more contributive people to society live. Then there's the Beta Quarter, which is basically that, but slightly worse. Same with Gamma Quarter, and then Omega. I live in Omega, the worst. That is until I complete the Alpha Trials and move up three quarters.
That's part of the reason I think the Alpha Trials are so important. They give me hope at a second chance to a better life. By this time, Beta Rochelle was up on the stage, her strawberry red hair standing out like a flame in the crowd.
"Hello all," she announced sadly but calmly.
There were murmurs of distress, anger, and distrust amongst the crowd, but she ignored them and kept talking.
"You all know why you are here today. I don't need to explain it. Our alpha is dead." I flinched. She said it so bluntly, so unfeelingly- it made me cringe.
My wolf Lucy thought so too, apparently. She took to growling in the back of my mind, making it extremely hard to focus on what Beta Michelle was saying.
Who does she think she is, talking bad about our Alpha like that?!
'All she said was that our Alpha was dead, not anything bad' I tried to reason with Lucy.
I bet she killed her!
Lucy went on, completely ignoring my statement and refusing to listen to reason.
After a few minutes of her relentless and pointless ranting, I was done.
'Just shut up.' I growled in my mind, attempting to listen to what Beta Michelle was saying.
Fine. She fumed. Listen to the murderer instead of me. Well, nobody's stopping you. If you get us slaughtered and killed, it's your fault!
'Whatever.' I rolled my eyes and went back to listening but by the time I did, the crowd was already moving. I attempted to move with them and look like I knew what I was doing.
I ended up on the left side of the arena, pressed up against dozens of sweaty, aggressive wolf girls. I knew I could beat more than half of them to a pulp if I tried, but it didn't help my anxiety.
"Your eyes can get stuck like that." A voice came from behind me.
"No, they can't!" I protested, whirling around to face my teaser.
I almost screamed of shock. The culprit was a boy.
YOU ARE READING
The Alpha Trials
Werewolf14 year old Faedra Leoni lives a pretty normal life. Well, as normal as life can be when you're a werewolf who lives in a pack of all females, but never mind that. She is still living life in the female pack when all reason is torn to shreds- their...