The girl

Blood

Chapter 8

When sleep finally lifts from my body all I smell was blood. I tilted my head up and sniff the air, it lingers . Nasty, The smell of iron drifts around the room like an bothersome fly, the smell so strong it burns my nose.

It fills my nostrils as I lay in my bed awake, my eyes plastered to the ceiling.

He sun pours in through the window as I curl my fist into the sheet, my back pressed to the covers as I try to think the smell is all in my imagination.

My skin itches as I turn my head to the side to peer out the window, the massive tree loom just out through the glass.

I absolutely can not stand the smell of blood ever since my fathers companion built a dungeon under my room.

The smell of blood just kindled through the floor and made my room stink of the pungent odor.

I growl under my breath in complete annoyance at the odd crawl of my skin as I shift uneasily in my bed.

I can still hear every scream and horrible beg for help, I almost went insane. I always asked him why I could smell the dreadful substance and he would constantly respond with a simple , Blood, I don't smell blood, you must be smelling things. Don't be silly.

He actually thought I believed every one of his bitter tongued lies. It could have been his own personal language he would take part in using so often.

I am lot smarter than most people give me credit for.

I march right up to the door, my heart races within my chest and pound my small little fist into the wood, the force of my force vibrates through the door.

One of my many guards open the door, his face covered in anger. "Yes?" He hisses through his clenched teeth, a look of annoyance present his his deep brown eyes.

I look up into his very large honey brown eyes, confusion written within them. "Do you have a dungeon, is blood involved, by any chance." I peer straight into his chocolatey orbs, they switch from behind me to my face constantly.

He looks at me like I told him I am growing hands out of my boobs. "We have a dungeon but only to keep criminals. We don't believe in torture." Then where is the smell coming from, my mind starts to work in over drive as I point my nose in different directions.

The scent is so strong, almost like it is just outside my door, the force of the scent begins to burn my nostrils.

The smell like a punch in the gut I feel like I am going to throw up my dinner from last night.

I walk right around him and sniff the air. He jumps forward and grabs my arm roughly, I turn to him quickly with a scowl on my face. "Take your arm off me or I'll rip it off!"

He lets go immediately, a frightened look plastered on his once cold expressionless mask.

I give him a sweet smile and walk forward, my bare feet rubbing up against the carpet.

The vibration of other slide up and into my feet as I slowly wonder around the hallway, hushed voices breaks into my ears as I peer over the wallpaper.

Pictures line the walls as sleek vases sit on rectangular tables, a different rang of colored flowers stick up from the middle.

I prick up my ears so I can listen for anything that might catch my attention. I can not hear as well in my human form as my wolf.

My hands morph into paws as I drop to the floor, the snowy color of my wolfs feet vibrate against the carpet. My nails dig into the ground making large marks, my ears shift on top of my head. My massive body hardly fitting in the small cramped hallway, the wall rubs up against my fur.