Overcoming The Odds [MxM]

Chapter 1: Unerwünschter

^ Raider ^

Raider

Each step I took forward was a struggle. My legs felt weak, like they would give out at any second as an undeniable tension began to build. All I was doing was walking through the pack, but to me, it felt like I was treading into hostile territory. But it was hostile territory. This was a rogue pack, and rogues' are nkt known for having a kind, gentle nature. Even for their own pack, especially not for someone like me.

My stomach began to twist into knots as dread pumped through my veins at an alarming rate, causing my heart to pump faster. I kept my head down cast, eyes locked on the ground. Unable and unwanting to meet any of the packmembers' stares.

I couldn't stand the looks of disgust and hatred they would give me. It was bad enough to feel their glares burning at me, much less seeing them. Each glare felt like a branding iron burning into my side, and right now I was in the fiery pits of hell. Tears stung at my eyes as I fought a whimper that was desperately trying to claw its way up my throat. My lungs contracted tightly in my chest, barely allowing me enough oxygen to maintain consciousness. Why do you hate me so much? I wanted to ask, but too scared to give the words any voice.

You already know the answer to that, an impatient voice offered. They have given me nearly a dozen different reasons ehy they hate me. And they make sure to tell me again and again so I will never forget. A man in his wolf form snarled at me as I walked passed, and I couldn't help but whimper at the sight of sharp teeth. Other packmembers in their human form spat hateful remarks my way; the same ones that I hear each and every day.

My own pack hated me, there was no argument there. I'm sure they would have  killed me by now if I wasn't of some use to them. I'm an omega, but I'm a good fighter. I've proved that to the pack, which is the only reason I'm alive. This is a rogue pack after all, they fight every other day weither they're defending themselves or starting a war.

Someone looking at my situation may think, if you're such a good fighter, ehy not stand up for yourself? Well, for one, that's insane. If I did stand up, fight back, they wouldn't magically start respecting me and treat me like one of their own. This isn't a Disney movie after all. They would rip me apart before I could even blink, if I did anything to disobey them. They do have some strong fighters in the pack, one less wouldn't matter to them.

I highly doubt my death would weigh heavily on their conscience. No, I know my death wouldn't bother them, infact they might even celebrate. "No good mutt." A woman growled at me.

Her words slashed at me like a rusty blade, and I was suddenly overcome ny the urge to run and hide. "Worthless." Another added, but at this point, I couldn't tell who. Words were being thrown left and right, each one hurting more than the last, until "Unerwünschter." That one. . . that one had always hurt more than all the rest. A whine tried to escape my lips, but I quickly stomped it down and kept walking until I was no longer surrounded by my hateful pack.

I came to a halt at the edge of a small creek and fell to my knees as all their hurtful words replayed over and over in my head.

For years they've treated me like this, shouldn't I be used to it by now? Tears stung at my eyes, and I wiped them away angrily. It was bad enough letting them get to me like this without crying over it. Turning my attention away from my dark thoughts. I chose to look around at the forest surrounding me. The earth was black as soot, the trees knarled and dead, like everything else in this part of the woods. Years ago, there had been a fire, it destroyed most of the forest. What was once a lush green was now an ashen, black hell.

Nothing grew here anymore, the only living thing still in this part of the woods was the pack. Which is why living in Dead Woods has worked for so many years; no one expects anyone to be out here.

I peered down into the creek, frowning. It wasn't crystal clear waters like the ones I liked to daydream about, but dark black, like oil. The fire really changed this place for the worse. Looking at my reflection in the inky black water my frown deepened, and I had to turn away. All I saw when I looked at my reflection was a weak, useless mutt. An unerwünschter.

Pulling my knees into my chest, I started to rock back and forth as pain tore through me. "You should just kill yourself already." One of the packmembers once told me. Somedays I wondered if I should, I mean, why bother staying? What did I have to live for? "Our mate." Robin, my wolf suggested softly. I sighed, then snapped in fustration, "Our mate won't want us." Robin whimpered before retreating, and I immediately felt regret wash over me like a glass of ice water.

It had been a cruel thing to say, but it's the sad truth. Whoever our mate happens to be wouldn't want someone like me. Someone so broken. I curled up into a small ball, hoping I could just fade away. "I'm sorry Robin." I apologized. I have no one in this world other than Robin, which is why we're closer than most other weres' and their wolves. We've been with each other through it all and have always had each other's backs. "It's alright Raider, but you have to stop thinking so little of yourself."

"Alright." The lie slipped off my tongue effortlessly. It's what I always told Robin when he asked things of me like that. It's not that I didn't want to change, it's just impossible for me at this point. I'm a lost cause.

I pulled up the right pant leg of my sweatpants until the fabric pooled at my knee. My fingertips skimmed lightly over the various scars. Werewolves who are middle rank and higher normally never have scars unless its an extremely damaging wound, because they have a higher healing rate. But omegas, like myself, have an extremely slow healing rate that's about the same as a humans. So we tend to scar more easily. My right leg at the moment has less scars than my left, but they'll even out soon enough.

I pulled my switchblade out from my back pocket, flicking it open. The little sun light that managed to get passed the clouds seemed to caress the smooth blade, making the urge to cut even harder to ignore. But then again, why ignore it? I brought the blade down to my leg, just below the knee cap and started to apply pressure. "Raider don't-" Robin started, but I quickly blocked him out. Be always tries to stop me whenever I start to cut.

Some days he manages to get me to put my knife away, but most days I just block him out and keep going anyway. I can't control the pain from all those hurtful things they say, but I can control this pain. Digging the knife into my flesh, a sharp pain slashed through me. I wanted to cry out, but I grit my teeth and kept going instead. I needed a distraction. An escape from the emotional hell that I've been put through. So far the only escape from the pain I've found is a different type of pain. Blood drooled down my leg from the fresh cut and dripped lazily to the ground. My eyes stun with tears the more I cut. Every nasty word they said to me, all the pain they put me through, all of it came rushing to the forefront.

I felt nothing but a light sting as I continued slicing open my flesh. I should have felt an agonizing pain, but instead I didn't feel a thing. I was just numb.

New cuts decorated my skin in bright red ribbons, the sight of it settling the raging storm inside of me and I felt hollow once more. The hollow feeling used to frighten me in the beginning. I feared that if I lost feelings and emotions, I was doomed to become just like the other rogues. Bloodthirsty killers without conscience. But soon I realized that feeling hollow was a hell of a lot better than feeling so shattered. The bloodly knife slipped through my shaky hand, landing with a soft thump on the forest floor.

Feeling sated now I wiped the blood off my knife before storing it away in my back pocket. A small smile tugged at my lips as I looked down at my bloody leg- but soon a frown replaced my smile knowing I'll be right back here again soon enough.