Scarlet tears stream down my chin as agonizing cries rip at my throat. Threaded lines carve into my face, scraping my whiskers and crushing my snout, as leather straps slap against my head begetting a stream of mucus pouring down my black nose. It hurts. Flames blaze against my cheeks and gashes scatter across my coat. Puss excretes from the blisters shrouding my body as the muzzle’s belt clamps my jaw shut, and the thick bands from the steel gag gnaws at my flesh. It’s getting tighter. My claws drill into the scratched tiles as raspy breaths erupt from my chest. Metallic gleams penetrate my sight, and my bloodshot eyes wince as my sliced face scrunches.
Silhouettes sway in my view, rattling against one another as their faint forms gradually become clearer. Choke collars, break sticks, shock leashes, and equipment able to take down a werewolf, dangle upon the blood-stained walls thirsting for their next victim. My chipped ears flatten against my head as A whimper protrudes from my lips. Like an empty dam once filled with endless tears, my eyes crystallize, and my lungs ache as I force myself to cry.
“Please…” I mumble, staring hazily at the shadows lurking at the back of the room, “help me.”
But I know, no matter how much my glossy eyes and trembling lips plead, the werewolves I’ve once called ‘brother’ are a fathomless abyss that only sink my calls into a bottomless pit of despair.
“Help? It’s your fault.”
Goosebumps crawl against my skin as the devil’s voice brushes against my ears. Her smoky breath digs into my nostrils, and her icy hand lands upon my temple as her frill dress collar runs along my pale face. Hot mucus bubbles from my nose, and my paws hurriedly scrape at the silver slabs as my chains clatter against the concrete.
Every inch of my body is screaming at me to leave, to escape this place. Thorns prod at my chest, with foam oozing from my black lips as I scamper to the back of the boxed room. Vans boom behind an iron door dwelling amidst the gloom, and the spikes piercing my lungs gradually dissolve into straws nesting against my ribcage. I can get out.
My thick palm draws towards the comfort of the bustling road, stretching as if freedom is within a hand’s reach. The night’s light from the barred windows seeps through my webbed feet, caressing my torn face and edging me nearer, but my breath hitches, and not because of the satisfaction of my release.
Brambles crush my heart, and red clouds my vision. A screech jerks my body as my brain hits against my skull, and my body slams into the tiled floor.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dean whispers, coiling her tanned hands around my neck, as she clips a black collar against my skin.
Her apple-red lips lift into a snarky smile as I struggle to swallow the thick blood plugging my throat.
“It suits you,” she says lowly, combing through my damp fur. “Think of it as a reminder of our little secret.” Dean’s cigarette tears at my bodysuit, and the sizzle of my flesh bounces off the ashen walls as a high-pitched scream leaves my mouth, “That you’ll keep, won’t you?”
Salty droplets line my eyes as the burning scent of my skin presses against the roof of my mouth. My throbbing wounds cry out, and the chains wounding my body aren’t helping in the slightest, as it coils around my body and coats its steel in an ominous red.
“N-no…” I mutter, my fangs glistening at her crimson-haired frame.
“Oh?” Dean’s smile drops, and her brows lift as her face contorts in confusion. “But don’t you need this job?”
Cracks infiltrate my ears as my head crashes against the concrete.
Stings zap my body as the muzzle weighs deeper into my skin.
“For your family, perhaps?”
Blood pours down my nose as a growl erupts from my chest, and the tension in Dean’s hand slightly loosens around my neck.
“I can’t find a reason for you to say no,” she says childishly, “You passed on my property. Don’t you think you should be considering yourself lucky to even have your life spared, intruder?”
Dean’s slanted eyes penetrate my skull, and my stomach turns. The haunting clink of metal weapons, swinging from the sharp-edged, wooden, frame board, at my back, loops in my rounded ears like a ticking time bomb. Night light trickles onto the opaque glass behind Dean, and its pale glow brings an illuminated show as it highlights my suffering to those feeling a sense of amusement on the other side. To think I expected kindness, pity, help. My nails dig into the arms coiled around me as I hesitantly meet Dean’s burning gaze. The thought itself is taboo.
“What…Job…” I murmur.
Murky yellow teeth, dark in contrast to the flames of red hair sitting upon Dean’s scalp, beam at me as I writhe within her grasp.
“Are we getting to an understanding?” she questions, pressing her nails into my skin. “Then be my Watchdog. Warn them, hurt them, kill them, I don’t care what methods you choose. Just don’t let me see a single one of your ‘kin’ making the same mistake you did, alright?”
My body drops to the floor as Dean’s grip releases, and she fixes the oversized sunglasses atop her head.
“It’s either that, or you become a Stray,” she states, “and guaranteeing your life on that one is quite slim. We don’t want that now, do we?”
She gestures to a purple liquid, sealed within a conical flask, in the hands of a werewolf guarding the exit as she sneers at me. “Your answer?”
The taste of iron accumulates upon my tongue as my cuts begin to swell. Chains gnaw at my wrists as they weigh me to the floor, locking my movement. Blood slides down my raven fur, masking the burning bald patches received from Deianira D. Lobos’ equipment. Yet, I promised. A hiss escapes my lips as I clutch my beaten body. I promised him ‘I wasn’t going to break Pack Code!’ My feet tremble from the pain surging through me, and my jaw clamps as I inhale the iron scent seeping from the muzzle. A slight mistake won’t stop me from keeping my word. My yellow eyes glare at the Beast Tamer’s pompous physique, and a snarl reaches my lips. Even if it’s you, Deianira.
“I’ll do it.”
Dean’s wrinkles refine as her face beams. Her arms stick out to what seems to be an empty embrace, as she stoops to my quivering figure. “Then it looks like we’ll get along, Gabriel.”
Want to know more? Look forward to new updates or get ahead of the crowd by getting the finished work, including awesome interior design, by purchasing the Reaper's Bloodhound on Amazon only for £6.50 or the Kindle version for FREE if you have Kindle Unlimited. (£1.99 if you don't.)
Link here on Amazon : *Available on Kindle and Paperback with hardback coming soon*
The Reaper's Bloodhound (UK) : https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0976C2MH6
The Reaper's Bloodhound (US) : https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0976C2MH6
You can also find it on Goodreads at : https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58510841-the-reaper-s-bloodhound
Although, if you're still not sure, or you're curious about what I'm up to, or The Reaper's Bloodhound itself, you can follow me on Youtube at GALADIN (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UChHkSU4GzSa7WO2t9PlZpqw) or on Instagram at gala._.din (https://www.instagram.com/gala._.din/)
Thanks for reading!
Vielen Dank für das Lesen!
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