Unchained

Chapter Eleven

Just listen to the song when I put it in where.

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      Lym woke up panting and covered in cold sweat, that nightmare that she wishes was just a cruel dream. Guilt ate away at her, consuming most of her thoughts, but she knew that there was nothing she could do about it now, it's the past. Though they do say the past defines you. She couldn't help but agree with it. Shivering in discomfort, she turned away from the whole memory fiasco.

      A soft groan escaped her lips as she hauled herself out of the crook that feigned as her bed for the night. Ravenous hunger stirred in her stomach, scowl settled on her face as she walked out of the forest and onto her bridge, the moon was almost at its peak. Her wolfish urges multiples thrice over, her nostrils flared in annoyance, the journey back to the States would have to wait a few days or so.

      When the moon hit its peak everyone started doing strange things, not just werewolves, contrary to belief, they were bound by the moon, but they were creatures of the night, only they were of said to be cursed in exchange to walk among the fortunate sun dwellers. A horrid beast, their wolves were, would run feral once a month, leaving the messy aftermath for their human to clean up. It was always the same each time, or depending who you were and what your situation was, you'd shift every other month in a feral beast that carried two thoughts. Kill. Dominate.

     It started with a stirring in the gut, an uncomfortable feeling. Soon, it would morph into a hunger, an unsustainable hunger, then it'd move on to the uncontrollable need to hunt and mate, usually males only want to mate. It crescendos into a roguish feeling of being free and unattainable and finales into exhaustion.

         When Lym was in Everest they Overseers made sure that the wolves didn't shift. They had files on everyone and when their time came to shift, they'd sedate them a dew days before the actual shift. The sedative, Wolfs-Bane mixed with chloroform, was an addictive chemical if it wasn't used correctly, she had seen first hand what that could do to wolf. The rabidness that took over was astronomical, their wolves took over and eventually the human soul died out from the lack of care. At ten years old she had watched Gael inject a trespasser with it and forced her to watch the side effects to show her what would've happened if she tried to run, with the promise that he'd always catch her.

      By no means does a wolf look forward to it. It's more of a pain in their ass and for Lym it's even worse, younger wolves are more likely to be impacted by it, causing them to have mood swings or flashes of hunger before and after the full moon. But it's not like you would think it was, the full moon phase isn't just a day, it's over the course of several days, anywhere between three and seven days.

       Taking in a deep breath in, surveying her surroundings for one last time before she moved on back towards New York, she knew she would miss it, the quietness of it all. With a clench of her jaw, Lym jogged off the long bridge and into the shaded forest that protected all of it refugees from the outside world.

         Feeling the familiar burn in her legs after a few hours of running, she jumped over logs, dodged stray limbs, Ragged breathes emitted from her chest. If there was anyone looking at her, from the outside it seem as if she was running away from her fears, not towards them. They wouldn't see the blood that stained her hands, the stains that never faded after being washed, nor would they see the killer she really was.

       She had been running hours upon hours by now and exhaustion was setting into her weary human bones. Exhaustion was setting in and she knew that soon her body wouldn't be able to run any longer, with that she slowly shifted in to her wolf form. A burst of darkness against the shadowy green forest, the change was unnoticeable in dusky setting.