Poisoned Rosey

Chapter 1: ROSEY

He took his last sip from the glass, before gingerly setting it down beside the stack of paper.

I already knew out of experience that this was the time to be quiet and not to bother him.

Which I rarely do, but his warning was what kept me still and engulf myself with silence.

A tiring sigh tingled my lips, my hooded eyes staring through the window.

I knew my time to get this burning metal collar off my neck was soon, as I felt it seep through my skin and poison my flesh entirely.

I knew if Master doesn't take it off soon, I'd die.

After months of knowing how my body functioned with the metal, it wasn't something that brought pleasure to Master.

As the rank of my wolf, I'm no higher than a weakling—an omega.

As for that, an hour of break from this collar wasn't going to do me any good, but mind as well kill me within a week or so.

I need to have two breaks during the day, which already exhausts my body to the point of slumping down and resting till my energy is restored.

It wasn't enough.

Which doesn't help much because I have to sleep with the source that causes so much excruciating pain.

It's rare that I even sleep through the night without startling awake of a sudden agony that sizzled my flesh that it caused bleeding.

I lean my head closer to the window, a calming bliss gracing through my body when the chills of winter frosted the window, radiated through my body and relaxed me in a way that no one ever could.

The pain still taunted me, but the way cold granted me relaxation, wasn't something I turned down. Instead, if I could've, I would've thrown myself in it.

However, our body temperatures are much more reliable than humans', as our buried wolf grants us warmth through the cold days. Yet, it doesn't mean it would last like that forever.

We are forced to keep our beasts buried deep down within our souls, yet the physical pain we are put through affects them on another level, as our wolves are starting to wither away in a slow amount of time.

There are even said to be cases that there are werewolves who claimed their wolves died.

I'm not even sure if my wolf is still alive or dead.

I still have the effects that I can feel her, but her voice that usually greeted me or talked to me through time, just suddenly vanished.

It brought me great sadness to know I'm losing a friend—the beast that was born within me.

I even considered talking to Master and ask him questions, but he isn't too fond to talk a lot. Or at all, in that matter.

He's a very quiet, one-sided person, I picked it up through the months of staying in his room and just staring at him.

When we do talk, it would be statements of, "I'll be heading out soon.", "It's time to take of that collar now.", "You'll be escorting me to my lab.", or even, "You need to prepare for the blood moon, I'll be needing all your needed blood."

It never was conversations that were fun or neutral.

Well, I shouldn't expect any. I'm not someone he would talk to casually, but see me as food.

I'm just food, that's the whole point.

Nothing more but a bag of flesh that can't wait to be punctured with fangs.