Once upon a time, there was a far off land. Back then, the world was crawling with beings other than
animals or humans. For instance, the palace halls had hybrid servants scurrying about. Their dreams crawling with succubi that preyed on their minds. Occasional rumbling from down below the city due to the Minotaur’s angered moans. A phoenix fluttering over the forest that cased all the wild animals. The island they lived on far from any modern day lands and threats keeping their way of life safe.
At the center of it all. Their whole world, stood a king. His chin raised high and proud. The greatest minds of their day of no comparison to his mighty knowledge. His strength greaterthan all the royal guardsmen combined. His kindness? The same as, if not more, than the monks in the high mountain temples. But this story isn’t about him. It’s about his most prized possession. A high class, breeding omega, that was one of the rarest type of hybrid. His name was Sehun, a pure white leopard. His ears peaking delicately out of his snow colored hair. The tanness of his skin slowly fading away from the hours of not being allowed out of his breeding chambers except to his covered garden.
Sehun’s tail curled down around his leg as he sat, staring at the ivy that had grown over his garden’s walls. He knew just behind the green was the source of his misery. His walls that refused to come down. They could not be reckoned with, spoken to, or even pushed away. A shaky sigh barely heard even by himself left Sehun’s mouth. The soft sound his only way to scream for help. His vocal cords cut long ago by two poachers that brought him to that retched palace. His gaze shifted from the wall to his tail, still curled around his leg. His eyes became slits a glare now being directed at the milky white fur. He hated the intensity of the white. How even the beautiful pattern the ran down his fur was just another shade of off colored white. Tears began, the salty taste as he licked his upsetting him even more. The sight of his perfectly kept nails and delicate hands driving him insane. The more he stared the less he felt like holding on. The less he felt like keeping his seemingly perfect life of luxury in exchange for and almost constant stream of pregnancies without being allowed to keep even one of his children.
Until he broke...
His hands flew to the wall clawing and ripping down the vines of ivy coiling and twisting them together. Reveling in the feeling of pain in his fingers. Blood streaks along the wall already starting to dry, although his fingers still bled. With his rope complete he climbed his favorite tree sitting in one of the highest breaches he could, leaning his head back on the trunk. His eyes traveling to the makeshift rope in his hands. His fingers carefully gliding over the rope trembling slightly. The small loop on the end of the rope now starting at him knowingly the other end being tied to a strong branch. The loop on the other end being slipped around his neck. The soft click leaving his mouth being cut short by short by gasping. His legs slowed from their kicking, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
The cry of the king’s sorrow shaking the ground the next morning. Scaring even the Minotaur awake.
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Author's Note
The names in this story have nothing to do with real people, neither do the events please keep that in mind my lovelies.
