12 Eustacia's Hell Continues

♔ Eustacia (P.O.V)

"Well?" A voice snaps me out of my thoughts."What are we going to do first?"

I don't mummer a word, instead, I give a small shrug in response. Almost immediately I regret my decision to shrug, even if it was the smallest movement. The tightened chains forcing me to stand allow only a small room of movement.

Yet, even with the small room of movement, they sink deeper into my flesh. The Wolfsbane covering the chains seep deeper into my wounds, saturating the already painful holes in ones of excruciating agony. Small continuous screams leap out of my throat, begging for the pain to stop.

I could feel as the poison skipped joyfully through my body. My hand and wrist have gone numb to the stabbing pain. The pulsating pain traveling up my arms weakens as it reaches my shoulders. The tormenting liquid knocked deep in my soul, begging to reach my wolf. If more is administered it won't take it long for the poisoning to reach stage three. After all, my senses are already weakening to equal a human's ability. I'm sure there were enough on the cuffs to be at least seven petals. So it's safe to assume my healing has been slowed down, which is stage two.

Quickly glancing at my wrists that have only been exposed to the silver and Wolfsbane for a short amount of time, I can already see the damage it's causing. The once pale white skin that was decorated with scars is now an irritated burning bright red. The red skin has clear entrance wounds from the spikes that are still digging into their homes. Red blood oozing from the wound mixes with the dark purple liquid, creating an almost black hue.

My body trying to heal these minor wounds can't. Forming a gross clumpy mess around the cuffs from the constant bleeding. The black blood mixture dries as it runs down the length of my arms. My wounded left hand from the earlier Emma debacle is still wrapped snugly in its dressing. The original white bandage is now caked in red. The wound that didn't have enough time to heal before the Wolfsbane was administered, so it's safe to assume it's still bleeding. A black hue stains the lower end of the wrap where the Wolfsbane had come into contact with it.

Slowly moving my arms higher I try to get enough slack on the chains to ease the pain. Even if it has just slightly helped.

Relief flooded through my body as my screaming came to an end. I could feel the pressure from the silver spikes ease as they slowly inch out of my skin. Although they didn't remove completely from their homes, it still provided enough relief to push the gnawing pangs into a fog of discomfort.

"Ahh. Come. On," she pauses after each word making sure to pronounce them individually. Her snarky voice continues to ring through the air, "I haven't even started yet. Let me at least start before you start screaming."

"Nothing to say to me?" She asks, twirling a strand of her long honey blonde hair around her left pointer finger. "Maybe something like," she pauses for a moment almost as if she's thinking. She begins to use a mocking voice trying to mimic mine, "You knew he was my mate how could you do something like that. Or maybe, let me go."

A stinging pain hits my heart almost like a bowling ball hitting its intended strike. I shake my head no and avoid her gaze.

"That's too bad. I was really looking forward to hearing you beg and plead," she places her hand that had once been curling her hair under her chin as she points at my entire body with the other, "although, this defeated lifeless look really suits you."

Emma chuckles, almost mocking the pain I'm in. I expected as much, she's a bitch. What I didn't expect was anyone to know who my mate was. Least of all a different she-wolf.

I'm not so sure that's what hurts the most about this entire situation. The physical pain that electrocutes through my being. The mental and almost physical pain of my heart breaking. The fact she knew who my mate was. Or most likely of all, the fact, Flynn knew he was my mate. The one terror to my existence. The reason I am in the state I am in today.

"Oh! I know where we'll start," Emma claps her hands repeatedly in excitement. "How about I fix those cuffs and collar of yours? They seem irritating," she smiles wickedly, "but not enough."

Placing strong white elbowlength gloves on both of her hands she makes her way towards me. Her movements seem almost like a snake closing in on its prey.

She carefully grabs the right chains connected to my cuffs. As she grasps the chains they clank with a metallic sound, that anyone would recognize as chains being rattled. Slowly she pulls it further and further down in small cranks. One. Two. Three. As each pull is performed it tightens the lead on the chains. Four. Five. Quickly the cuffs begin to dig deeper into my wrist, the warm liquid starts to stream down my arm. Six. Seven. The seventh pull from the cuffs makes me stand higher on my toes, trying to no avail to release some of the pain. My eyes begin to water as I start to grind my teeth, biting through the pain. I won't give her that satisfaction.

My eyes are closed tightly, but even my human-like senses tell me she has moved from my right side to the left. She begins to tighten the left, in the same manner, she did to the other. One. Two. Three. The teeth begin to dig deeper into their holes. Four. The sound of clanking chains continues to ring through the air, moving quicker than before.

"Fuck!" I howl in torment. A loud scream escapes my mouth without warning as a sharp pain surge through my wrist. Instead of the chains jingling, a loud snapping sound crashes through the air.

Abruptly Emma yanks the chain down. The force causes the spikes to penetrate deeply into my left wrist. The lack of movement and pain radiating through my body tells me that my wrist has been broken. Possibly even shattered. Blood begins to trickle down my arm worse than the other.

Through tear-stained vision, I glimpse over at my hand that had already been through enough. The appearance of my own hand is sickening. The palm faces outward towards Emma, a normal position. A closer look reveals a glimpse of white extruding out from the back of my wrist. It sits in a sickening almost s-shaped position. Blood oozes out from the wound saturating my arm in the red liquid.

Definitely broken.

"Oof. You're going to want to put some ointment on that," she giggles.

"No shit! I'll need more than that, you crazy bitch," I spit.

Rage boils through my body. My body starts burning red hot, almost like being in an oven. She's been a royal pain to me. She's whipped, cut, beat, branded, chained, exposed to silver and Wolfsbane. She's even made me pick some glass up barehanded, but she has never broken one of my limbs to the point it was sticking out of my skin.

Yet, as mad as I am. As much as I want to claw her eyes out and make her place known. That's the wolf in me. Sure, I'm pissed, possibly even worse. What's worse is... I'm mad at myself too because I physically don't want to fight back. What would be waiting for me even if I did? I'd end right back in the same position I already am. Probably worse if I retaliated.

No. Not probably. I would end up worse.

"Shh," she pats my face with her gloved left hand, "there's that fire I love beating out of you. It's no fun when my prey doesn't fight back."

I'm just a toy to her. Maybe that's all I'm good for. Relaxing my feet I allow the teeth to dig into both my wrists. Tears begin to stream down my face like a river. What's the point in fighting?

"Shall we continue?" She purrs with delectation.

The scent of blood coats the air almost like a thick fog. I know that my arms are stained in the sticky red liquid. Some of the vital fluid found its path onto the short sleeves of my ragged shirt. The lack of flow reaching the area caused the blood to dry from the bicep up. Crusting around the sleeve.

Blood still oozes angrily from the lesions on my right wrist. Wounds that have been caused by cuffs that contain eight silver spikes lined on the inside. Each spike is at least the width of two regular lead pencils. The length is almost half the size of a regular paper clip. As humble as they are, they cause massive damage to a werewolf. Even more so when laced with Wolfsbane, they gain bonus points when the victim is thirty pounds underweight like myself.

The blood, which had once oozed slowly from my left wrist now pools quickly. It has been broken severely enough that the bone shines through the skin. Agony still rings throughout the limb as a ghost pain repeats the breaking action in an almost endless loop.

My werewolf side is trying to heal the minor injuries on both arms to no avail. The silver penetrating the wounds prevents any healing, causing immense irritation to the skin. Furthering the torment my broken wrist which could heal in moments is now halted due to the Wolfsbane in my system.

Emma slithers her way back to her bag and rummages through it. Almost as if she's looking for something specific.

"Ah-ha! Found you," Emma's shout was laced with excitement.

Confusion tickles my brain. What exactly could she have found?

Considering my situation, I doubt it's anything good.

"What do we have here?" Emma asks in a sarcastic tone.

She spins around to face me as she shakes a very small vial, grasped between her gloved left pointer finger and thumb. The vial was corked and clear glass without any labels. The colored liquid inside was a fair mixture between a light purple and chrome hue.

"I asked you," she pauses as she moves closer to me, "a question and I demand an answer as your luna."

She grabs my chin with her right hand and tilts my head upward to look at her. "So, answer me mutt."

"I don't know," I respond.

"That's not good enough. Try again," she grips my chin harder slowly inching my neck back.

"I said, I don't know." Anger wails inside me. I'm ready to give up. I want it to end. Why does she insist on doing this?

Stop. Please. Make it end.

She smiles, showing her teeth, and softly laughs. "The answer wasn't good enough the first time. What makes you think it'll be accepted the second time?"

She takes her hand off my chin and moves it to the top of my head. Tightening her grip she grabs hold of some of the hairs on my head, making sure she gained that extra leverage. My head begins to be pushed towards the left. I can feel the silver teeth begging to enter my neck as they rub against my flesh.

No. No, no, no, no, no. She said she was going to adjust my cuffs and collar. She acted on that part of her threat, so where's the other half? What is she going to do to my collar?

Panic begins to swell in my chest. I don't know the answer to her question. It could be Wolfsbane, but it's too light of a color. Whatever is in it, there's enough to possibly kill me. That's what I want, sure. However, the problem with that is, whatever is in that vial is highly a poison of some origin. I'll have a very slow, painful and even worse awareness of what's happening, death.

One thing's for certain. If I answer her question, even if I'm correct, it will bring my life to a painful conclusion.

"It's not exactly labeled dumbass! I'm not a chem major! How am I supposed to know what the fuck that shit is?" I rasp.

My vision halts to a screaming black. Pain zaps through my neck and travels up my neck, creating a pounding headache. My ears ring in an unholy matrimony of sound. Fog seeps in and begins to engulf my being. Liquid heat begins to pool around my neck as it spasms in pain.

"Wrong answer," Emma sneers.

My vision is still complete darkness, yet I'm sure my eyes are open. I can't hear light sounds that are around me, but the constant ringing deep within my ears or Emma's screaming. I'm in total darkness, besides pain. Immense pain.

My head is pushed off the spikes as a cold liquid is poured onto my fresh wound. She briskly rubs it in on my skin, sticking the tip of her small pinky into each wound.

Screams begin to escape my body without consent. The wounds shout in sirens of agony as she forces the unknown liquid into my wounds. My skin boils as the substance makes contact.

My eyes finally begin to adjust, black splotches cover my vision. Fading in and out. Through my impaired vision, I can see the discoloration of her snow-white gloves. The gloves that seem liquid-resistant are coated in a tie-dye of red and a silver-purple hybrid. A smile still plastered snugly on her face.

"I call it Wolf Hunter," she states as she tosses the vial onto the floor. "It's a two-one ratio of Wolfsbane and liquid silver. Both poisonous and irritating. Both will kill you if enough enters your system. Together… Well, they become a death sentence."

"Go to hell," I whisper.

She ignores me, "Eustacia, darling, I'm sorry your life has been so shit. I really am. The thing is, I want Flynn. You know the guy who is your mate and my alpha. I want that power. I want to take what should've been mine before the Moon Goddess blessed me with her mateless mark. I was an alpha's daughter just like you. The difference is, once my mateless mark showed up I was no longer of use to them. So they did the only logical thing a monstrous parent would do, and exile me out of the pack. Forcing me to become a rogue."

She laughs bitterly. "So imagine the euphoria I felt when I heard about an alpha who didn't have his mate. An alpha who was taking in rogues to make his pack stronger. I was ecstatic! I could take back my rightful place. It was going so smoothly too," a growl escapes her throat," Then he bumped into you one day when you were leaving my room. He found out that day, that you were his mate. He told me, and something in me just broke. I thought he was going to leave me for you. Except he didn't. He said he didn't want you. That you were worthless and would never make a good luna. Yet, for some reason, he kept you around and avoided you like the plague."

My heart almost shattered all over again. My mate said I was worthless to another she-wolf. He said he didn't want me.

Emma was right. I'm nothing.

Dropping my head, I let the spikes pierce my neck. Not caring how bad it hurt.

Emma's footsteps echo against the floor as she walks away from me. The sounds of her rummaging through her bag fill the air. A metal clanging sound can be heard as a revolver is reloaded, each bullet tinks as it enters the chamber. Tink, tink, tink, tink.

"If you think about it, I'm doing you a favor. No one would love you. You're covered in scars and I can see your ribs. It's a very displeasing site."

She's right.

Who could love me with all my flaws if my own mate can't? That's if I even survived completing the rejection. With my weak body, I doubt I would.

This is for the best. My suffering would end and I would get to go home.

"I'll miss our time together mutt."

I brace myself, waiting for everything to go dark.

A click rings through the air and she cocks the gun.

"Emma, stop!" a male voice howls in pain.

Opening my eyes a disheveled man stands next to Emma. He's sickly pale for a werewolf. He reeks of sweat and death. His brown hair resembles that of a messy bed head. Clutching his left wrist, he stares at me. His stares send my heart into an unwelcome thundering race.

Flynn.