The Eve of Darkness

Chapter 1

When Aria was told that one day, her world would be turned upside-down, she had assumed it would be rather pleasant experience. Maybe her soulmate would turn it upside-down by being an incredibly rich CEO with enough stacked overseas bank accounts to buy Tijuana. Perhaps, she mused, her divine, world-flipping experience would come in the form of magical brownies that could actually manage to have an effect on a werewolf. However, hanging from the ceiling of a claustrophobic basement by a chain attached to her feet with her hands tied behind her back was the least appealing way in which she could attain a life-changing experience. 

If being damned to die could even be considered 'life-changing.' 

The blood rushing to Aria's head produced a throbbing that could compete with the static of a box television. It was as if there was a constant heartbeat all the while there being an unending pressure that kept building, building, building. She knew that any normal person would have started bleeding and probably passed out forty-five minutes prior. However, blame the resilience of a werewolf or the stubborn nature of a lifelong rogue, it was going to take a lot more than an hour and a half of hanging upside-down to make Aria lose consciousness. 

The basement was disgustingly cluttered. Aside from the exposed dripping plumbing pipes, the two lightbulbs that were hanging on for dear fucking life, the unfinished walls with an exposed frame, and the dirt-covered floor that sat about a foot below her head, there was also just stuff laying around. Random boxes, a work bench covered by tools and nails, a small table with a chair at each end: it wasn't what Aria expected when she thought of 'torture chamber.' 

Nevertheless, she'd been electrocuted, cut, beaten, and spit upon enough in the tiny room to know otherwise. 

As Aria sneezed and began thinking about whether the musty smell was coming from mold in a corner or shit in the pipes, she heard the familiar heavy steps of the people who'd brought her to this place. 

"Okay, sweetheart," said Irma, the woman that Aria had gotten to know as a sadistic, cold-hearted bitch that took enjoyment out of seeing how electricity made a werewolf twitch. Her light blonde hair glowed in the yellow light of the basement, as if there was a halo on her head - as if she was an angel of death. The machete attached to her belt spoke to that vibe as well. "I've grown bored of this little 'ask-and-don't-answer' game we have been playing. Haven't you?" 

Aria narrowed her eyes at Irma, who'd told her her name when they'd first become acquainted, and kept her mouth shut. 

Irma sighed and tutted, shaking her had back and forth as she squatted down to be face to face with Aria. 

"Now, now," she started with an amused smile, stroking Aria's cheek with the back of her knuckles and causing the suspended girl to move her head away sharply. "We both know that this silence gets you nowhere, sweetheart. I'll ask again, and you can think about whether you want to tell me or get friendly with the jumper cables again. Where is the Darkwoods pack?"

As much as Aria would love to give them an answer to stop the torture, there were two thing standing in the way of that. First of all, she was a rogue. There was no pack that she knew of in this area, and if she had known of it, she would have never come here in the first place. However, if Aria said that, they would kill her in an instant, as it was her supposed 'secrets' that had kept her alive the past three days. Secondly, she was too damn stubborn to ever give a hunter anything that would make them happy. That meant helping the people who were responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent lives every year. It also meant doing something nice for Irma.

Fuck that, she thought in disgust. 

Mustering up whatever voice she could from her dry throat, Aria forced out a pained grin.