Taken by the Alpha
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Dzenisa Jas
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Dance of Death
Cerberus Thorne
A metallic echo reverberated through the dark forest. The sounds of gasping and growling intertwined. Skin was being peeled back, and flesh was torn, discarded onto the blood-soaked ground.
The chilling sound of claws scraping against tender skin, tearing through and ripping out chunks of flesh, echoed in the near-silent night. The sight was nothing short of horrifying. The grass was drenched in a thick, crimson pool of blood, with chunks of skin that had been brutally torn apart scattered carelessly on top.
The sound of tearing skin was followed by the crunch of breaking bones. A blood-curdling scream pierced the air, only to be swallowed by a deafening silence. A limb was ripped from its socket and tossed onto the ground. The body it belonged to was being torn apart, piece by piece.
The man enduring this brutality was beyond the point of screaming in pain or pleading for help. He understood his predicament as he felt his body being torn apart. He realized he was missing a hand, and half his body was stripped of flesh.
Despite the darkness enveloping his tormentor, he knew who he was. He was the man of many myths, the creature in every horror story ever told. He didn’t need to see his face to confirm his suspicions. The man torturing him was the King of all Wolfe Bornes, and he had no intention of letting him go.
The man’s eyes bulged from their sockets, and blood seeped from every part of his body, draining the color from his face. He had no choice but to accept his fate. He was powerless and without the will to fight back.
The creature that continued to tear him apart, with claws as sharp as knives, was unbeatable. He was a ruler who stood above all, ruling with an iron fist. The man whimpered in pain, his head bowed, hoping to die with some semblance of dignity.
The Alpha King chuckled hoarsely, reveling in the fear radiating from the man. He relished the feeling of skin tearing under his claws and the warm blood pooling over his hands. The torture continued for hours. The man endured as long as he could without screaming. The forest was eerily silent, but the wind began to howl ominously.
As his body began to shut down, the sight of his severed arms lying in a pool of his own blood made his heart clench. He could feel death approaching. The Alpha, not satisfied with the pain he had inflicted, tilted the man’s head and sank his teeth deep into his neck. He drained the man’s blood and replaced it with deadly venom.
Pulling away, the Alpha smirked, his mouth and teeth stained with blood. He pushed the man’s twitching body onto the bloody grass and chuckled. With one last glance, the King transformed into a pitch-black wolf that blended seamlessly with the dark forest. He left the man behind to suffer until his body gave out.
The man curled up as much as he could without his hands, trembling. Tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes. The venom began to burn his insides. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. The torture was unbearable.
So he let it out. He screamed until the trees shook and the birds took flight in fear. His body was melting, his eyes bulging. Once he fell silent, his body had given out. His eyes were wide open, but he was no longer there.
He was dead.
