A Wolves World

Chapter 14: The Horror Genre

3rd Person

Porter spoke clearly and was quick to the point. Nolan and Damien listened, both leaned in. The story he told was by no means appropriate for anyone even close to his age. It was gruesome and bloody. The way those gaudy words spilled from his mouth, you'd think he was Stephan King. If only his name had been Jonny.

The kid rambled on, tears leaking from his eyes. Damien was surprised he hadn't passed out from retelling all he feared. Of his whole body, the only thing that didn't tremble like a chihuahua was his voice. He was not scared to tell this gruesome tale. Damien and Nolan had promised to help. He and his pack needed help.

He could feel those hands again. Like the ghost of a shadow clung to him. They touched and grabbed him. They pulled and ripped at supple pink flesh.

One was over his mouth, he could barely talk, let alone breathe. It belonged to the same man that stabbed Nolan.

His skulk was attacked by rogue werewolves. It was only a group of ten, but ten times stronger than his entire skulk combined. The fox shifters fought as hard as they could but to no avail. They were overtaken in a matter of minutes.

It went from war to an organized operation. Through their operation, the rogues unintentionally implemented 3 rules that continuously echoed through Porter's head.

Every man that fought back was killed. Every woman and child that fought back was first in line. Every single person was evaluated. If deemed good enough, they were stripped and locked in the old barn, where they waited until chosen.

"Chosen for what?" Nolan asked although he speculated what the answer was.

"To-....to be... uh... touched." His adolescent mind didn't know the name of the thing that man tried to do to him. Nolan and Damien's stomachs grew uneasy. Along with nausea, Nolan's stitches felt all the more unpleasant. He remembered what the man said to him. At least one was dead.

When they deemed him worthy, he was surprised. Most children his age were locked away from the others. Most boys were locked away with the others. Once that man laid eyes on him, he knew he'd be chosen. Those wicked, malicious eyes wanted him.

The barn was cramped, the fox shifters were packed inside, shoulder to shoulder. Their naked bodies dripping with sweat at the blistering humidity. His skin stuck to his mother's. She had also been chosen.

Throughout the first afternoon, the two sat and watched as people were pulled from the barn. One or two at a time. All had rope around their wrists and ankles. It made controlling them much easier.

They cried together whenever someone was taken. Some sobbed, and some stayed standing, waiting for their shot. It was all for nothing in the end. They were beaten if they tried to resist. They were killed if they managed to make it past the double barn doors. Then their cries would grow.

Anyone that came back alive looked as if they walked through hell. Hair and skin were in shreds, ripped apart. The crimson liquid flowed and branched out into streaks. Blood was seen mostly on the soft and innocent inner part of the thigh. With every step, the blood would spread, contaminating the skin.

It wasn't until that man walked in that Porter started crying. He and his mother both knew who he was here for.

With another guarding the door, the man sauntered his way through the sheep. Smirking as they flinched back and gave a small clearing he could walk through.

Porter's heart pounded and his stomach lurched when the man stopped mere inches from his feet. His mother moved in front of him. Her hand clenching his desperately.

"Gimme the boy." spit flew in between his rotted, disgusting teeth. He probably hadn't brushed his teeth in several years. The worst thing though was you could smell it. Porter's mother wanted to puke at the horrid smell of decaying, rotting flesh that spilled past the lips of the man.

"Please don't take him." She pleaded. The other foxes faced the man in agreement. Porter was just a child. Too young to even fathom the idea of what was going to happen.

The man didn't respond. Instead, he clocked the woman. Blood poured from her nose, which was now bent at an angle. With pain, she fell to the floor. Without another glance the man grabbed Porter. Hoisting him up and over his shoulder like Santa carrying his sack.

The woman was quick to scream and cry as her baby was taken. She thrashed in the arms of the others. As furious as they were, the others would hold her back. They didn't want her to die as well.

Much like his mother, the boy screamed and thrashed around. The man seemed more lenient with Porter as he did nothing.

Feeling a little confident, Porter decided to look at his surroundings. Although through teary eyes, he could spot the barn fading in the distance. Backtracking his memory, he mentally pictured a map of his skulks' land.

The man was walking in the left direction. Which means he'll be heading into the thick bundle of willow trees. Something the foxes used as a 'don't go any further' landmark. After the thick bundle of trees, it was werewolf territory.

Fox shifters were quite rare, almost extinct in fact. Although fast and shifty, foxes were easy prey to rogues or even regular animals. After years and years of being hunted by humans as well, there were less than 300 fox shifters left. This was the biggest skulk by far, making up a good third of the species.

The skulks leader had quite a good relationship with the alpha of the wolves. Still, everyone was very wary and started away from crossing the border.

This was his chance. Fight enough to put him on the ground, then run. It's what foxes did best. Hopefully, the werewolves will notice his presence and come to investigate.

The man decided an extra grassy spot in front of the willow was good enough. He dropped Porter onto it and immediately got started. With those dirty, rough hands, the man touched him.

It was like an iron touched his skin. It seared him to the core, he flinched at the pain. He began kicking and hitting as hard and as fast as possible. He didn't want this man to touch him. The bloody face of his mother flashed in his mind and he flailed harder.

The rogue growled at the boy and tried to grab his limbs. Succeeding in clenching one wrist, but failing at catching the rest. One point for Porter.

His bare foot came in contact with the man's nose. As revenge for his mother, he aimed for it again. With the second kick, the appendage began to bleed. Two points for Porter.

His internal celebration didn't last long. The boy's distraction was the man's chance. With another growl, the man was able to grab onto Porter's thigh. Using his strength, the man flipped his prey. Now pinned on his stomach, Porter couldn't fight back. One point for the pedophile.

Remembering what he was, Porter knew what to do. He shifted into his cute little fox form. White, partially sharp canines dipped into the disgusting flesh. He bit harder, grimacing at the taste. Three points Porter.

Now with a mangled arm, the man flew back with a scream. Taking his chance Porter ran. Four legs were better than two. Four points for Porter.

Running through trees and bushes wasn't difficult for a fox. What was hard was keeping a good distance from the surprisingly fast man.

Porter could feel the shift in energy as he entered the werewolf pack. His breath caught as he saw and heard no one. That was until he spotted Nolan. Five points for Porter. He won the game.  

Sorry I'm a little late this week guys. I was on vacation, at Disney and I tried to write on the plane, but it's hard for me. I have really bad motion sickness, and it makes it worse when I'm reading.  Ever since I've gotten out of the hospital, I feel as if my updating schedule has been way more punctual than usual. I really didn't want to ruin it, so I kept through it. I hope you enjoyed! Thanks!

October 18, 2021

1,410 Words