"Videre."
Screams. Endless screams. One can't say that only women know how to scream. Most of the shrill yelling I hear come from hysteric men.
When will this end... Ah, I want to sleep and never wake up.
My eyes close heavily as I try to block out the sounds with distant memories of a quiet green forest.
"Videre."
Tiredly, my eyelids open to dully stare at the person who set my head upon her lap. She doesn't hide from the same yellow eyes she has, and stares right back at me. It takes a few seconds until I feel her concern and worry flooding over me. Only then do I close my eyes again.
"Don't sleep yet." She strokes my forehead soothingly. "I heard there was a rebel group that was just brought in", she pauses. "They might kick you again if they come and see you sleeping."
A grunt escapes my lips as I turn to bury my face on my sister's bony figure. I suppose I'm not that much different. I encircle my arms around her waist, thin arms aching at the slightest movement due to fatigue and hunger.
The creak of the jail bars next door startles us both, but we don't show it. Wary eyes face the hall outside, watching as a guard approaches. I slowly sit up, grabbing my sister by her elbow, I pull her slightly behind me. She may be older than me but I am a guy. With father gone, I know I am the next head of our small family. I need to protect the only family I have left.
"Faex, what a disgusting cell... with extremely disgusting children", a guard looks around until he finds us and glares at us, as if we were the most disgusting creatures he has ever seen. "Hurry up and go do what your worth for or there'll be no dinner for either of you. Futuo irrumators", the guard silently hisses the last part, before he proceeds to complain about his current job.
(A/N: Faex = shit; Futuo irrumators = fucking bastards)
He says that as if they'd feed us every day but most of the time they forget we even exist at all.
The guard leads us to a dimly lit cell, a two chairs placed in the middle of all the surrounding filth on the floor. Suddenly, another guard grabs a hold of my sister's snow-white hair and drags her away from me. I clutch my hands tightly at the pain we share, my scalp tingling at the feel of having my sister's hair pulled. I know if I fight, it will only make it harder for my sister so I don't.
"Your work's here, cane." A hand grabs my neck from behind. "Let that moecha putida of a sister of yours do her job.
(A/N: Cane = bitch; Moecha putida = dirty slut)
I bite my tongue hard to prevent me from insulting the man squeezing my neck. I know for a fact that we are precious assets to these wolves, inanimate resources that only need to be given the bare minimum, and that's the only thing that stopping them from doing something reckless. But being an asset won't stop certain things from happening forever. I've seen various thirsty and calculating eyes from men staring at my sister. Sometimes directed even at me. It'll be a little more than a year before she turns sixteen, the legal age for any human-kind; an adult. And though I may be a year younger than her, we bare the same face and height like twins.
I need to think of a way to get us out o---
"Auggghh--!" I clutch helpless at the hand tightening at my throat, digging my nails as best as I could to bring air to my lungs.
"You dare ignore my presence, you half-Satori irrumator, huh?" I felt the air surround me before I felt my bones protest upon contact with the cold dirty ground. The first thing I do is worry that my sister would feel the same pain as I did. She was patting my head moments ago. "You think your better that us lycans, do you?" A steps heavily on my stomach, making me wretch a bit of bile on myself and his shoe, and forget my train of thoughts.
He disdainfully looks at me as another guard in the room laughs at his fellow's misfortune. I take another kick before he leaves the cell.
"What an idiot", the other guard smirks, shaking his head as he grabs me by the collar. I resign myself to silence as he sits me down on one of the two chair in the interrogation cell. "Find out if the person we're bringing to you has had any contact with our Alpha's sister, what kind of order she gave them and if any of them has had contact with her litter of bastards."
"T-The Alpha's sister...", I whisper after a period of silence.
"What? Speak louder", the guard smacks the back of my head hard with the hilt of a dagger he was wiping. My mind felt hazy. "Or are you mute, you useless retard", he taunts with the same disdainful look.
"I d-don't know what the Alpha's sister looks like, nor her children." I stare at my feet, suppressing the dizziness I felt, as I hear the guard mutter another "useless" before going out and coming back to find an old memory stone, which he then hands me forcefully.
"Hurry up and memorize their faces before Pablo comes back with the rebel."
I hum lowly as I grasp the memory stone in my palm tightly. The guard ignores the lack of respect in my response. He usually just ignores my existence, and in turn I try to ignore the pain throbbing in my abdomen.
A soft white light glows from the transparent stone as I study the faces of her highness, Lucille Ashraf, and the infants carried upon her bosom. The woman was a pure bred lycan of the alpha lineage, but she got pregnant with the twins, Laris and Letitia Ashraf, much to the derision of her brother, his majesty, Alpha Vaughn Ashraf.
Word of mouth travels fast in the dungeons as long as you have a sensitive ear. I have heard the guards calling her a traitor, telling stories of her treachery. Apparently, she had lied about the death of her children's father, and did not let the lycan-kind take in the man. It is within the tradition of lycans who wed other human-kind, to take non-lycans into their family and forbid them from seeing their own kind again or go out of the lycan city's walls, without the supervision or permission of their Alpha.
The memory recorded in the stone was composed of short snippets. It shows how a hooded Lucille had carried the two children, one on each arm, as she ran in the empty streets of lycan city. The next scene was her looking around, until she exits a big gate, of which I think is one of the four gates in the city. Suspiciously, there were no guards around.
Fog assembles and disperses in the memory until it shows Lucille running towards the trees outside the walls, her red hair slipping out of the cloak as she puts down the children in her arm. Abruptly, she whips her head and stares at me as if she heard me make a sound. It should've been the one who owns this memory who made the sound.
Lucille moves her mouth without looking back, as if to tell her children to run. One of the children grabs the other's hand and runs towards a lone carriage that was waiting, hidden within the trees and foliage. It launches into motion the moment they entered.
For a moment, I imagine it to be myself my sister who were escaping.