Demonic Regime

Chapter 1: Cattle

I am not the first, nor the last of my kind.

We cover the land. Our number too great for one man to count.

We fight.

We find flaws among us, to differentiate one from another, even when nothing is wrong.

But now we are all the same.

Cattle, that has finally found ourselves beneath a master.

Our number is great, but theirs is greater.

"What are you writing?"

I clapped the notebook shut. "Nothing."

"Come on let me see," said Maggie.

"There's nothing to see."

"Please, Jax. Just let me see it," she begged.

"No." I tucked the book along the side of my chair.

My sister rested her head on my shoulder. "Why write if you don't plan on letting anyone read it?"

"I said no."

Maggie laughed and stood, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ear. "Fine." Walking past me, she started into the field. "Are you okay there?"

"I'm fine." I waved her off. "Go on, before you get in trouble."

Shaking her head, she ran off into the sugar beet field to help with the weeding. I pulled out my notebook and flipped through the pages. I peered down at the blanket covering my withered legs. I write because there was nothing else I could do. If no one ever read it, that would be fine with me. I sunk down in my wheelchair and stared up at the tree branches. This was my life. Boring, uneventful. Any other pack would have done away with a cripple. I didn't even have the strength to get myself back into the house.

Maggie caught up with my brothers. My parents weren't too far off. I glanced down the road between our house and the field and sat up in my chair. Werewolves. My father left the field to meet them. He kept nodding as the overgrown dogs kept barking at him. I gritted my teeth. Placed under servitude to them, it was sickening.

"What's this?"

I turned in my chair and stared at the brown werewolf. Oh no.

Another with darker fur and gray markings who looked over our town joined him. "Marty Row's eldest son." He pointed to my father. "The boy's been crippled since birth."

"Really?" The brown werewolf grabbed my arm and lifted me into the air.

My breath caught. It hurt.

"Wow," laughed the brown one. "Human are born like this."

"Some," said the gray marked werewolf.

"Why keep him?" He let go, and I dropped to the ground. "You're just wasting food on him that could go to one of those boys." He motioned out into the field where my brothers were working.

"Pack policy. We don't kill. If the family willing to take care of them, then they're allowed to stay."

My father hurried up the small hill and knelt down. "Are you alright, Jax?"

I pushed myself up. My arms were shaking, but I was able to do it. "I'm fine."

"Let's get you back in your chair." He bowed his head to the werewolves and picked me up. Setting me back in my chair, he faced the gray marked werewolf. "Let me take him inside, and I'll be right back."

He nodded and stepped to the side. My father pushed me to the house and into the living room. He picked me up again and set me down on the couch. Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, he draped it over me. "Are you sure you're okay?"