01

01

4 years later

It was my birthday. 18th birthday, if you want to get specific about it. I woke up at 4 am, same as every day. That may seem early, but it was the prime time to sneak out of my pack’s borders.

Before leaving, I got dressed in black leggings, a black long sleeve shirt, boots, and my trademark black cloak. I pulled up the black mask up to right before my eyes opened, which effectively covered half of my face. The whole getting dressed process was very methodical, as is everything I do.

I drank a smoothie made of 4 raw eggs, kale, and wolfsbane. After the little incident four years ago (you know, the one where I got my tongue ripped out. Did you even read the prologue?) I came up with an idea. I noticed that when he whipped me with wires soaked in wolfsbane, that my body started adapting to the feeling of it slightly. So, I decided to start building up my immunity by drinking a little bit of it each day.

I obviously couldn’t tell anyone about that. Wolfsbane is extremely poisonous, and they would think I was crazy for trying. But once they realized I was right, that a tolerance could be built up, they all would try to do it, and the last thing I need is werewolves with less weaknesses. Not to mention, being immune from the effects of wolfsbane was my little secret.

I chugged down the smoothie, grimacing at the acidic taste of the wolfsbane. I could feel my wolf growling at me from inside in anger. She is such a bitch.

Ignoring her, I put the cup in the sink and left the house to begin my day.

Every day, I leave my house and exit the territory through a patch of forrest that the guards do not guard at 4:30 a.m. I know that they don’t guard that piece of land because I am the pack Gamma, the one in charge of training the guards, and also happen to make the schedule of perimeter sweeps.

I walk out of the territory, and deeper into the heavily rogue-populated forrest. When I first began sneaking out to kill rogues, I was ten years old. Now, at age 18, the unclaimed land was less populated with rogues. Many have heard rumors of a demon who comes in the early hours of the morning and kills rogues without a second glance. Some are still brave enough to try to live here, because if they can remain undetected by me, they can live on a land with few other rogues, which would be ideal for them. Rogues don’t tend to like other rogues, and fighting for resources is often a source of conflict for them.

I walk around the forrest for a few miles, and do not detect any indications that a rogue has been anywhere near here.

As I turn around to start walking back to my pack’s territory, I hear a branch break from about 1000 feet from my left. My extremely acute sense of hearing never let me down.

I turned to my left, and without hesitating, flicked my wrist and summoned a dagger. Ah yes. Daggers were my weapon of choice. I preferred the intimacy of killing someone up close. Although, I definitely still appreciated other weapons like swords, bow and arrows, and even medieval weapons like a morning star bludgeon.

I couldn’t see a rogue, but I trusted my instincts and threw the dagger, hard, to my left where I believed the rogue to be located.

I heard a yell of pain, and sprinted after my dagger. Sure enough, 1000 feet away, a male about the age of 25 was withering in pain on the ground.

“What the fuck did you do that for? I’ll kill you, bitch!” He said, the dagger lodged in his left side. This was certainly not a lethal blow, so what was he whining about?

I couldn’t answer him, but even if I could, I don’t think I would have. Not being able to talk, though inconvenient at times, was how I preferred it. Violence says more than words ever can.

I summoned a smaller knife than the one I launched, only about 3 inches long. I held the knife in my hand in a fighting stance.

The rogue just laid there in confusion, and fear. “You, but you, your Gift is knives? That’s not fair! All I can do is sneak up on people!”

I motioned for him to get up. If he wanted a fair fight, he could have one. I wouldn’t kill him on the ground, before he even stood a chance. He still doesn’t have a chance to kill me, but he wouldn’t have any way of knowing that.

I summoned a long sword for him, and handed it to him, tossing my knife to the side. I didn’t need weapons to win.

If he looked confused before, he was the epitome of it now. He probably didn’t understand why I was arming him when he were about to fight to the death. I’m not a monster. If someone is the better opponent and can kill me, than they deserve the right to do that. Besides, I was bored, and fighting unarmed against an armed rogue was always sure to be entertaining.

I stepped a few feet back, and he got pulled the dagger out of his side, stood up, and held the sword out in front of him. I wondered if he had ever wielded one before, but based on his shitty technique, I would guess not.

He made the first move, swinging the sword directed at my neck. Bold move.

I ducked, and kicked my foot out at his legs. He was already unbalanced from putting all his power towards swinging at my throat, so he went down easily.

The sword slipped out of his grasp when he fell over, and I put my knee on top of his chest before he even knew what was going on.

I almost felt guilty for how easily he was taken down, but hey, you can’t say I didn’t give him a fair chance.

I ripped his heart out of his chest, and he instantly died.

Ugh. The blood was sure to stain these leggings.