Werewolf White; Book 1- White Wolf

Chapter 9- Cold

I woke up sprawled across the floor with one of my hands handcuffed to chains that solidly connected to a thick concrete wall. Staring the chains with disbelief, something in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I slowly turned my head to see a blood stain on the grey wall I was connected to. If I wasn't scared before, I sure was now. The ground was cold, and the previous clothes I was wearing were replaced with a white pair of shorts that went to my knees. No shirt. No jeans. No shoes. I started to feel goosebumps erupt from my skin due to the freezing concrete floor and walls on my legs and back. I was shivering in seconds. I was still sprawled out like a tossed rag doll, scince I felt too weak to move. I struggled to lift and arrange my body so that I was sitting with my back to the wall. Everything in my body felt slow. My eyes blurred my vision, so I closed them and with my free hand wiped the moisture out. I opened them back up and slowly regained my bearings. I was in a cube-shaped room with the 4 walls, ceiling, and floor taking up equal amounts of space. The 6 surfaces were made of grey concrete, and the only things on the walls were blood stains and tally marks scratched into the concrete. There were no windows, just one door. Once my vision started clearing, I could see that the room was well lit by a light bolted into the ceiling, and I noticed something. Or someone. In the corner with his arms crossed was a white muscular man. I squinted to view him better, but the brilliant light was messing with my eyes. Then a deep voice broke the silence.

"Pathetic. Pathetic!"

The word echoed in my head. My neck was aching so I let my head fall. As my senses were returning, I felt an irritation on my left wrist. I raised my arm, triggering the sound of crackling bones. I yelped in pain and pressed into a wall behind me, closing my eyes due to the pain. I barely heard a small chuckle on the other side of the room. As my arm lay limp on the ground, I tilted my head to barely glance at the irritation in my wrist. My wrist had three small holes on it, like marks from a syringe. What is happening? What's happened?
"You should be grateful. I was going to kill you, and I still might."
The man's voice was deep and loud, displaying authority. And I hated how he was toying with me.
"I'd rather... rather be dead" My voice was small and raspy, as if my vocal cords were rags. A loud, thunderous laugh filled the small room and made me flinch since I was used to the silence. After laughing for a few more seconds, he spoke to me again.
"Trust me, i'm trying to kill you. But, lucky for you, the coats wanna run tests on you."
"Lucky me..." I mumbled sarcastically. Coats? As in jackets? This man was either insane or knew more than me. I was thinking both. I was starting to regain my bearings, but my breathing was jagged and rough. Since my vision seemed better, I raised my head and tried to scan my environment. The light was still painfully bright, but my eyes were semi adjusted to it. The man was around 6 feet tall and leaned casually on the wall with his arms crossed, looking down upon me like some kind of fascinating rodent. His eyes weren't just bright green, but bright green, as in I'm pretty sure they could glow in the dark. He was wearing green and black camo jeans and no shirt, showing of his impressive muscles on not only his arms, but his torso as well. I would have complimented him if I wasn't chained to a wall. His jeans were raggedy and torn, and they hung all the way down to his brown boots. His buzz cut hair was brown, and his final, disturbing feature was... a large fang poking out from his lips at all times. He definitely doesn't offer cuddles, that's for sure.