Not Anymore (BoyxBoy)

Cameron Picture Above

Oliver's POV

"Run!" "We're under attack!" "Luna? No!"

Red. All I could see is red. It's everywhere; the walls, the grass, my house, my mom. My mom?

Why is she red? Don't tell me.... please, no, no, no.

"Wake up!" Not even a twitch.

Alex is screaming. She wants me to get to safety; but I can't move.

I'm frozen. I'm stuck, sitting on the red grass, hunched over watching my mother's skin turn pale and her eyes turn grey.

I didn't do anything – I couldn't do anything, as her life was ripped from my frail grasp.

Sitting up from my sleeping position, I hurried away the memory. They were always so gruesome and detailed; it's as if my dreams can remember the event better than I can. Wiping away my tears I looked up finally noticing that I wasn't in the forest anymore; but a cell.

The four walls are made of cement and the only door was made of steel bars. Inside the cell was a bucket, which I presume was for emptying your bladder, and a small orange blanket riddled with holes. The cell looked to have been used many times before, if the stains on the wall were anything to go by.

Deciding to stretch out my limbs, I stood. I don't know at what time I shifted back into a human but I'm sad I did. Sleeping in wolf form is so much more comfortable and relaxing; especially when you're lying on a cement ground and the forest floor. Looking down at myself I notice that I'm wearing a large shirt and boxers; both pieces of clothes not mine. The shirt goes past mid thigh, while the boxers are only a size too large.

I shuffled over to the steel bars covered in grim. "This place needs a good clean." I voiced to no one in particular.

"That's rude you know?" A smooth voice replied, making me jump.

I have the worse luck. I need a therapist, hot chocolate, and a good luck charm.

"S-sorry." I squeaked.

"Nah, it's cool. I agree with you, 100 percent." The voice stepped out from behind the dirtied cement wall. He had curly brown shoulder length hair and striking blue eyes, which almost appeared grey.

He flashed me a smile and spoke "Blake wanted to see you. He wasn't happy to have a rogue on his grounds."

Rogue. A day ago I was fully enrolled in a pack- maybe not willingly but I was still part of a pack. I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up my throat. It's crazy, just last week I was swearing on my desisted mother to Alpha George that I loved sleeping in a mold filled basement. The mindset of a "human" is an incredible thing.

"Are you crazy or something?" The handsome stranger questioned me. Sending me worried glances.

"Why? Did I say all that out loud?" I giggled. If I'm going to did then I'm going to enjoy it dammit!

"No you didn't. It's just when most are about to face dead they don't laugh." The stranger stated, making me smile.

I guess I'm not most.

He sighed, shaking his head.
"What's your name kid?"

"Oliver."

Maybe I shouldn't have given him my real name. Are names useful in torture?

"I'm Cameron. I'll be taking you to Blake." Cameron unlocked the cell door and motioned for me to follow him. I stepped out of the grim covered room and followed the male in silence; not knowing or wanting to strike a conversation.

"I'm glad the clothes fit." Cameron muttered as we approached a large oak door. "W- What?" My face fluttered red. Cameron glanced over his shoulder and down at me.

"I'm happy my clothes fit you." He spoke louder, his eyes shining with amusement. By now I'm sure that even the tips of my ears were red.

Cameron laughed again "He's in here." The male pat my back gently before turning and walking back down the hall. Away from me and the imitating large oak door.

After giving myself a small pep talk I opened the large detailed door. Prepared for anything except that.