Three Mates

Nothing new

I am laying awake in a prisoners cage, my body tense against the colf cement floor, and the urge to throw up is great. The smell of death and rotting flesh burns my nostrils. 

The familiar creak of the door opening, suprises me. I don't know if my best friend is alive, It sucks not knowing. Not knowing something leads to imagination. And with a twisted creativity like mine, that's not always a good thing.

Think about all the people who've killed each other for simple ignorance.

I watch her walk in gracefully, her blue eyes the same, cold as ever. She looks down at me, pure hatred in her eyes.

"Just because you're my brother's mate dosen't mean you can escape punishment," her voice is dark, and mischevious. She's planning something.

A guard stands next to her, pity in his eyes. He leads me to another room. Many people stand on the sidelines of the room. It reminds me of when people would witness an execution. Some look pleased, and even happy to watch this.

Very few look terrified for me. This one little girl with curly blonde hair catches my eyes. Her dress is pink and frilly, ending just at her ankles. She looks like she was forced to be here.

I stand awaiting whatever punishment. My head downward, I feel the curious looks of watchers. It's annoying.

I feel the sharp burning pain, suddenly. It hurts more as time goes by, I fall forward allowing my knees to give way. I smell my own blood as it puddles beneath me.

She whiped me.

The sting burns my skin, as she continues to hit me, her movements percise and caculated. Tears sting my eyes, I bite my lip tryng to hold back the cries of pain that threaten to leave me.

The pain causes my vision to blur, becoming unreliable completely. The only thing I can feel, acknowledge, is the pain and the message that comes with it.

She's developed a rythm with it, One... two... strike.

I hear a yell, aruguring. I can't turn to see who. Too much pain. I am laying on my stomach. Trying to let go of my pain. It hurts, any stimuli hurts.

She covered the whip with silver and wolvebane vines with sharp thorns. The silver is inside my blood stream, burning every vein inside my body.

I don't deny the strength I hold as a supernatral.

But in this moment, I would have been very happy to die.