**Content Warning–Torture.**
“WHO IS YOUR ALPHA?!” the hunter yells.
“I TOLD YOU! MY ALPHA IS ALPHA LEWIS OF THE SHALLOW RIVER PACK!” the man screams at his captor.
The hunter turns and takes something from the table behind him. “YOU’RE LYING!” The hunter yells, and a scream fills the room as the hunter pierces the man’s skin with a blade covered in wolfsbane.
“Please! Please! No more!” The man begs, his breathing quick and shallow. “My pack is the Shallow River pack. I was born there. My father was a warrior for the pack. We’ve never belonged to any other pack. I have no other Alpha but Alpha Lewis,” he whimpers.
The hunter spits in his face and looks at him with disgust. “One of you knows who your Alpha is, and I’m going to get it from you one way or another,” the hunter says as he walks past the cages in the room. The hunter smirks as different colored eyes glare back at him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” His evil laughter fills the room.
“Now, now, Roy. You know they can’t respond when they’re gagged,” an older man scolds the young hunter as he enters the dark, grimy room.
“Yeah, I know, that’s what makes it funny,” the hunter, Roy, says, laughing again.
The older guy rolls his eyes as he inspects the man, whose hands are handcuffed to an old pipe above his head. “You’re using too much wolfsbane. I want them talking, not dead.”
“They’re the big bad chosen. They can handle it,” Roy smirks.
The older guy turns and punches Roy in the mouth, causing him to stumble backward and knocks the knives and tools off the table.
Roy looks up, surprised at the other hunter, his hand rubbing the spot where he was hit. “What the fuck was that for, Wren?” He screams.
“Because I fucken can,” Wren sneers at him. “We need answers, and they can’t answer the fucking questions if they’re dead, you moron.”
The man being tortured groans in agony. Wren approaches him and looks up at him as he hangs from the pipe, his feet barely touching the ground. “Put him back in the cage and bring me another one,” he tells Roy.
Roy climbs a stepladder to remove the cuffs, and the man collapses to the ground, and Roy drags him into the open cage by the arms, slamming the door shut as he walks out. Roy comes to a halt while walking past the cages when he hears a growl come from the one he just passed. He walks backward and bends down, looking into the cage with a sadistic smile. Another growl comes from the cage when he unlocks it, and he drags another man out by his hair. “It seems this one wants to play,” Roy says, placing the wolfsbane-soaked handcuffs on him.
“Don’t hang him. Cuff him to the chair,” Wren instructs Roy as he pours wolfsbane over the metal seat.
The man hisses around the rope in his mouth when his naked body comes into contact with the wolfsbane. He watches in pain as Wren puts thick gloves on, picks up a scalpel, and dips it into wolfsbane. Wren strolls over and crouches in front of him, pulling the rope from his mouth and letting it fall around his neck.
“Not so playful now, are you?” Wren smiles, gliding the scalpel over the man’s chest, earning him another growl. “Tsk, tsk. Slow learner, I see.” Wren glides the scalpel over another part of his chest.
“What do you want with us?” The captive growls in agony.
“We want to know who your Alpha is,” Wren says, slicing his cheek.
“I have no Alpha. I’m a rogue,” he says, through clenched teeth.
“Don’t lie to me,” Wren snarls. “You and your ‘chosen’ lycan friends have an Alpha, and we want to know who it is,” he spits out.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about! What the fuck is a chosen lycan?”
“Enough of this shit.” Wren motions to Roy with his head, and Roy steps behind the chair, tipping it backward.
“What are you doing?!” the captive yells, panicking, as Roy covers his face with a towel, forcing his head back. Hearing movement in front of him, his breathing is shallow, and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He gasps as wolfsbane-laced cold water is poured over his face through the towel, pain searing across his face and throat as he chokes. The water eventually stops, and he is placed upright. He gasps for air, coughing and spluttering as the wolfsbane fills his lungs and burns with every breath he takes.
“Tell me who your Alpha is,” Wren says calmly.
“Go… fuck yourself…” he says breathlessly.
Wren nods to Roy, and the towel is reapplied to his face. The wolfsbane-laced water is poured over his face again, and he tries to close his mouth, but it only enters his nose, the fear of drowning coursing through his body. He’s propped up again, each gasp of air causing more wolfsbane to burn in his throat and lungs. “Why?! Why are you betraying your own kind?” He asks weakly.
Wren snorts. “You’re not my kind,” his words filled with disdain.
“I know you have a wolf. I can smell him.”
Wren spits on the captives’ face. “You lycan have always acted like you’re better than us,” he scoffs.
“So, you’re a werewolf? We’re still born of the Moon Goddess. Why work with these hunters?” He wheezes, still struggling to breathe.
Wren motions to Roy once more, and the towel is placed over his face. “We’re the ones asking the questions. Now. Who is your Alpha?”
The captive musters all of his remaining strength and roars, “FUCK YOU!”
As he feels the water again, he tries to hold his breath, but eventually the burning in his lungs forces him to take a breath. He struggles in the chair, attempting to free himself, his right forearm breaking from the force. He could feel his body succumbing to the darkness as he saw stars in his eyes. Finally, just as he thought he would meet the Moon Goddess, he’s sat back up and he vomits, his body trying to expel the wolfsbane.
“Why did you leave your pack?” Wren asks.
“To… Protect them…” the captive answers weakly as his head falls back, and he tries to catch his breath.
“How many others are you working with?”
“No… one…”
Wren grabs his hair at the back of his head and punches him hard in the face. “Liar!”
The captive’s eyes lock with Wrens, and he gives him a half-crazed smile. “Torture me all you want. I will never tell you a fucking thing.”
Wren lets go of his hair and walks around behind him, pushing Roy out of the way. Wren twists his hands in the rope hanging around the captive’s throat and pulls it tight. The man below him struggles as his face turns red and he kicks his legs wildly as he suffocates.
“That’s enough.”
When Wren lets go of the rope, the captive falls forward, gasping for breath as he looks around the room for the other voice, and he notices someone sitting in the dark corner, watching.
“Get… Off… On this… Do you?” He says between shaky breaths, giving the figure a sarcastic grin.
“Funny,” the man says, and he leans forward, his face coming into the dull light.
The captive gasps. “You…” he says in disbelief.
“Hello again, Andreas.”