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NotNiceAngel
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2013
- Location
- USA
Faolin snapped at a hand, and a razor clattered to the floor. They were attempting to shear off a handful of hair, but more hair always sprouted from the white scalp before any black strands could touch the floor. The head of the village was the one attempting the grueling task; his harsh anger was reaching the boiling point. The sounds of people chatting and observing his failures wasn't making things easy for little Faolin.
"Very well, we will pass the shaving if you won't cooperate. It would have made this more pleasant, but you're too dim to obey. It's your pride that makes you act this way. Insert the spikes where we placed markers. If the markers are not visible, guess," his glare landed on the werewolf strapped to a wood table, lingering on the head that housed the yellow orbs firmly clamped between two wooden arcs that fit the dimensions of her skull. Holes were drilled through the arcs, ensuring space for the four-inch spikes that were vital. He walked up and carefully tapped the head of a small hammer, making sure three-fourths of the length would be in the cranium. Failin screeched and yelped, but it only made the humans happier.
With this step completed, he reached for metal strings and wrapped them around the ends of the spikes with nimble movement. The leader stepped back and allowed his filthy followers to evaluate the job. Sets of cold eyes journeyed the path one wire took, tracing it to a garish machine rooted to the ground. Suddenly, numbness pervaded Faolin's body as she trembled faintly, her eyes dilated with terror. All of her being wished that none of the walls existed, that this building, these people had ever been created and that they were not real. Soon the man was turning a crank, causing a thing he called "Devil's Lightning."
Now what made Faolin's body convulse was not fear. It was the scorching sensation searing her head and nerves. When the current was at its fullest, the black hair ignited, crowning the werewolf with a halo of flames--an image of the Devil himself. The spikes were warped by heat and the wood arcs popped and charred. There was a strangled shriek as Faolin shook, fists clenching and releasing, legs caught in a spasm. Then there was only gurgling once there was not enough air in her lungs to support a stronger cry. Her body continued to thrash, perfectly white and naked, though she was beginning to be dyed with streaks of red burns. Faolin gnashed her teeth and a demonic scream pierced the sky, an impossible feat for a being whose voice is carried by air, as her lungs were empty. The violent writhing of the naked body was constricted like a snake coiling, an animal crouching and readying to spring, as if at any moment would unleash her power to destroy and escape.
"That was good for practice, yes? I trust you found everything to your tastes," the man chuckled softly. "Or was it disagreeable? In my opinion, it looked excruciatingly painful. Were you in any pain? It was your stubbornness that caused the damage. From this point, the experiment will be less destructive," he said as he loosened the restraints on her sweaty, panting form.
Taking her chance, Faolin lurched from her confines and morphed into her wolf form which was only a little under two years old. The spikes fell from her head, and she lunged from the slightly elevated platform. Men chased her as she reached the border with swords and bows. They sliced at her legs and shot at her head as she dodged until she reached a deep valley. Her forest wasn't too far; Faolin could still get to her family.
"Very well, we will pass the shaving if you won't cooperate. It would have made this more pleasant, but you're too dim to obey. It's your pride that makes you act this way. Insert the spikes where we placed markers. If the markers are not visible, guess," his glare landed on the werewolf strapped to a wood table, lingering on the head that housed the yellow orbs firmly clamped between two wooden arcs that fit the dimensions of her skull. Holes were drilled through the arcs, ensuring space for the four-inch spikes that were vital. He walked up and carefully tapped the head of a small hammer, making sure three-fourths of the length would be in the cranium. Failin screeched and yelped, but it only made the humans happier.
With this step completed, he reached for metal strings and wrapped them around the ends of the spikes with nimble movement. The leader stepped back and allowed his filthy followers to evaluate the job. Sets of cold eyes journeyed the path one wire took, tracing it to a garish machine rooted to the ground. Suddenly, numbness pervaded Faolin's body as she trembled faintly, her eyes dilated with terror. All of her being wished that none of the walls existed, that this building, these people had ever been created and that they were not real. Soon the man was turning a crank, causing a thing he called "Devil's Lightning."
Now what made Faolin's body convulse was not fear. It was the scorching sensation searing her head and nerves. When the current was at its fullest, the black hair ignited, crowning the werewolf with a halo of flames--an image of the Devil himself. The spikes were warped by heat and the wood arcs popped and charred. There was a strangled shriek as Faolin shook, fists clenching and releasing, legs caught in a spasm. Then there was only gurgling once there was not enough air in her lungs to support a stronger cry. Her body continued to thrash, perfectly white and naked, though she was beginning to be dyed with streaks of red burns. Faolin gnashed her teeth and a demonic scream pierced the sky, an impossible feat for a being whose voice is carried by air, as her lungs were empty. The violent writhing of the naked body was constricted like a snake coiling, an animal crouching and readying to spring, as if at any moment would unleash her power to destroy and escape.
"That was good for practice, yes? I trust you found everything to your tastes," the man chuckled softly. "Or was it disagreeable? In my opinion, it looked excruciatingly painful. Were you in any pain? It was your stubbornness that caused the damage. From this point, the experiment will be less destructive," he said as he loosened the restraints on her sweaty, panting form.
Taking her chance, Faolin lurched from her confines and morphed into her wolf form which was only a little under two years old. The spikes fell from her head, and she lunged from the slightly elevated platform. Men chased her as she reached the border with swords and bows. They sliced at her legs and shot at her head as she dodged until she reached a deep valley. Her forest wasn't too far; Faolin could still get to her family.