Scars to Remember

| 01 |

E L E N A

Once upon a time, there was a great kingdom that was blessed by the moon. Besiege by tall trees and crystal clear rivers flowing throughout the year, it was the most beautiful place in the world. It was the kingdom of the Lycans, their origin, and their pride.

Now life had seeped away from the Dykin forest and all that remained was the darkness that could engulf anything and everything.

Where once life thrived, now was left barren. With dead trees stretched through miles, there was not a single leaf that could be seen. The sharp pointy branches gave the appearance of claws that were ready to snatch the bits of life that remained. Dark grey clouds had covered the sky and there was never a day when one could witness the sun or the moon.

The once lively kingdom of Lycan was now engulfed in a curse that could not be broken. Surrounded by death and chaos, it was a forbidden place no one dared to enter...except for the evil themselves.

In the middle of the forest laid the remains of a castle that now served as the den of bloodthirsty monsters. The once white walls of the castle had turned black. On either side of the castle laid what was left of the twin towers. The crystal clear windows were broken and were covered with wooden planks nailed to them.

In front of the castle was the only clear ground, where the sky could be seen clearly. Each day the ground bled red. Every day people died here, their bodies shredded into dozens of unrecognizable pieces. However, no one shed a tear, no one cried to mourn. Instead, cheers of excitement echoed throughout as bodies fell to the ground.

Tonight was no different. The beasts had gathered around in a circle. Countless snowflakes swirled around by the freezing wind releasing a spine-chilling coldness. Those people could easily freeze, only if they were human.

Some of them were in their human form. They were big and had unruly hair. They wore animal skin over their body that revealed more skin than it covered. Others were in their lupin form but they looked nothing like werewolves nor did they look like humans. Instead, they looked like beasts that were stuck in between the two. Their appearance looked like they were stuck in the process of transformation and now possessed both human and werewolf features giving them a twisted and abnormal appearance. They had human bodies with fur covering their skins. They had a short snout with drool dripping down their canines. Their solid black eyes were dull and lack any sign of emotions. They were the rogues, werewolves that were cursed by the moon.

They lived in the forest under the rule of a tyrant king. With a broken crown resting over his unruly grey hair, he was standing on the balcony of the castle. His cheeks were hollow, his thin lips were pale. A heavy cloak was draped on his shoulder. There was a cane in his left hand. His other hand was resting on the waist of a woman.

Wearing a sheer white dress she looked no less than a goddess. Her silver, perfectly groomed hair was pulled back, revealing her delicate features. Her skin was pale, her eyes were silver. The only color on her was her red lips and the golden crown that was sitting delicately on her head.

The two were staring down at the center of the crowd where stood a petite girl who was no older than fifteen. Barely covered in clothes, her body was carved with scars that each told story of their own. Her matted red hair that hasn't been washed for days was pulled in a ponytail.

In front of her stood a man thrice her size. He had his hand covering his eye hiding the deep gash. Near his feet was a white gooey substance that resembled his eyes which the girl had ripped off just a moment ago. Blood seeped between his fingers and dripped on the thick layer of snow which was covering the ground.