A grin, one Jonathan couldn't suppress, spread across his lips. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had planned. He considered George his finest soldier—reactionary and depressed, therefore perfectly primed for violence. A truly worthy asset in their fight against the filthy wolf mongrels.
The group of defectives dashed through the dense forest, their movements a rushed, hurried frenzy. They strove to stay low and quiet, their well-packed bags slung tightly over their shoulders. Jonathan spotted a naked man carrying an unconscious boy over his shoulder, running at breakneck speed through the trees.
It seemed he wasn't the only one whose master plan was coming together perfectly today. He had had August 8th marked down in his calendar for months, just waiting for the right moment. And now, everything had converged like a beautiful, terrible symphony.
"Jonathan, shouldn't we wait for the rest of the group? What about George and Diamond, Christopher and Alina?" Gracie whispered, her voice tight with worry. She kept glancing behind them, hoping to see them catching up. But no matter how many times she looked over her shoulder, all she saw was the forest—dark and bruised from the immense density of foliage overhead. It made it feel like night, the leaves creating a level of deep shade, lessening the beating heat of the sun.
"We can't leave them behind?" she pleaded.
"We wouldn't have made it this far without George!" another added.
"We're supposed to leave together as a group."
Jonathan closed his eyes, a deep well of frustration churning within him. Did these people truly not grasp the gravity of their situation? They had been given a chance to escape. Not everyone made it; it was an unfortunate but necessary truth. Some had to be left behind so the rest could get away. That was simply the way of survival. They had never been subjected to life-and-death stakes as he had, so they didn't understand what survival demanded. And if one wanted to survive, one had to fight, to be vicious, and to be just as cruel as the wolves who held them captive.
"The kids are fickle!" Jonathan nearly choked on the sympathetic nonsense coming out of his mouth. "George messaged. He let me know that they don't want to leave. We are adults. It's easier for us. But for them, they're still attached to their parents—to the filthy savages they call Mom and Dad. And we have to respect everyone's choices." Anyone who stayed behind was a traitor. If they didn't follow, they were meant to be left for dead. Like Ryan, who thought himself so high above the rest of them. How he strutted around as if he were a wolf himself—a sick sycophant who licked at the feet of his masters. He would soon discover how wrong he was for abandoning his own kind when his pretty little girlfriend ended up as a tasty morsel for the depraved wolves who called themselves civilized.
"Once we're away, we should still make sure if they want to leave. We can help," Gracie announced flatly as they kept moving, staying low to the ground.
They could hear growls and the heavy pounding of paws against the earth. But the way the sound bounced around the forest made it impossible to tell if they were moving toward the wolf footfalls or away, if they were being pursued or not.
Their legs began to feel like led, heavy and useless, until they heard the distinct sound of rushing water. This was their first indication that their path was correct—one of their planned landmarks.
The sound seemed to inject a jolt of enthusiasm into the group. The fifteen defectives all felt their feet move that much lighter as they hastened their pace toward the running water.
Alpha Adrian smiled a welcoming smile as he watched the defectives all rush toward him, completely oblivious to the danger they were so eagerly approaching. As soon as he came into their line of sight, he noticed them slow their charge.
"Run!" Jonathan shouted, ready to make a mad dash and scatter in different directions. But none of them could take a single step. Wolves, in their true, towering Beast form, had surrounded them, their teeth sharp and dangerous as they growled and snapped. They had formed a tight encirclement around Jonathan's group. They were utterly surrounded.
The defectives all reached their hands into their pockets, prepared to throw the silver fine powder they had meticulously ground down to the finest dust.
"We aren't pups. That silver won't stop us." The cool, slow manner in which Alpha Adrian spoke made the entire group freeze in fear. Their hearts stilled in their chests, and their breath tightened, the will to fight instantly lost. Freedom suddenly seemed completely out of reach.
"Don't let him scare you. They're not impervious to silver. They're weak under its touch!"
Before Jonathan could pull the silver dust from his pocket, Alpha Adrian launched a small pebble at the defective's wrist. The impact was sickening, shattering the bones and rendering the hand useless. The old fool fell to his knees, screaming in pain, as the other defectives behind him all seemed to second-guess using their silver dust.
Slowly, as the circumstances finally settled in for all of them, the defectives all dropped to their knees, their hands leaving their pockets harmlessly. The silver was left behind as they all raised their hands in surrender.
"Don't give up—keep fighting!" Jonathan screamed in agony and rage, his cause dying so pitifully right before his eyes.
"Did you think you could get away? That my pack is so utterly careless, that we didn't know what you were planning? That we didn't see it coming?"
Alpha Adrian walked over to Jonathan, his large boot pressing against the man's broken wrist. He watched as snot and tears mingled as they fell down the pathetic face.
"We have to welcome you. Every last one of you. Keep you safe. Unless you break pack law. Then I can punish you."
Gripping the defeated man by his throat, Alpha Adrian dragged him. His large palm compressed his throat painfully tight. Jonathan's good hand clawed desperately at the Alpha's wrist as he tried to stay on his feet while being dragged backward, completely unable to find his balance.
Alpha Adrian pulled him all the way to the edge of the massive, roaring waterfall, hauling him to a complete stop so his toes hung over the precipice. Jonathan's eyes were forced down to the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below.
"I know everything about you. You know, I didn't expect you to kill a pup. Between us, I'm quite impressed." The words were whispered lowly, meant for Jonathan's ears only.
"You're not allowed to kill me! A new Queen has emerged. She's the only one with dominion over life and death!" Jonathan rasped, his words coming out as a dry, wet hack against Adrian's relentless grip. He hadn't only planned, he was spying and listening. He had heard the news. He knew that even if they were caught, they couldn't be killed.
Adrian only chortled, the sound deep and dismissive, barely audible over the thunder of the falling water. He didn't care. He would handle the new queen, and she would never know about Jonathan Myers. He would be forever known as the defective that got away. "You escaped your fate once. Back in the Russian packs."
Jonathan stilled. He hadn't expected Alpha Adrian to know about his life back in Russia, how he'd been hunted by his own village—people he called friends. The memory still haunted him, the betrayal still a thick acid on his tongue.
"I'm just correcting your path. You were supposed to be an unmarked grave in the woods. Forgotten, and useless."
With a hard, brutal shove, Adrian tossed Jonathan off the cliff. The man plummeted straight down toward the large, sharp rocks nestled beneath the rushing water. Adrian watched with a chilling fascination as Jonathan's head collided violently with a large boulder. The sickening, wet crack of his skull opening up was clearly audible over the roar of the water. A spray of brain matter and bright red blood exploded into the air, instantly staining the white foam a hideous crimson. The final chorus to his life was the harsh snap of his ribcage and spine as his body accordion-folded against the stone.
The remaining defectives screamed in unison, one man collapsing and dry-heaving at the sight of the red mist blooming in the gorge.
Adrian watched for a few seconds as Jonathan's limp, broken body—a mosaic of shattered bone and ruined, rapidly darkening flesh—was briefly visible, one arm splayed unnaturally. Then, the strong current seized the corpse, dragging it down and under the churning water, swallowing it whole and washing the immediate bloody stain away. Jonathan Myers disappeared, carried away to be forgotten.
"It's a pity he escaped," Alpha Adrian said, his voice unnervingly casual, as he turned and walked back to the other defectives. They were still on their knees, hands above their heads, tears streaming down their faces as they all cried, knowing they would be next.
"Let's head back."
Around him, he heard the chilling chorus of screams as his wolves bit down on each defective by their arms, legs, and torsos, haphazardly dragging them back toward the pack. Adrian threw his head back and howled into the sky, a demand for all of his pack to gather. They would all need to go to the punishment grounds. He was going to give his restless wolves the blood they demanded.
Author's note:
And that is the end of Jonathan Meyer. Vote, comment and power stones. All the things I love.