Chapter 55

Sebastian

During the drive to the Gamma camp, rain clouds form overhead. Droplets sprinkle the moving world around us before falling into a heavy downpour. The outside world drowns while we remain dry inside the car.

The asphalt roads evolve into dirt roads, which turn into a muddy mess beneath the car’s tires. The Beta’s face contorts into a focused stare, his tongue slightly sticking out as his eyes remain big and wide.

The car slides into an empty space in front of the Gamma camp when he presses the brakes. I kick the door open and step out into the open rain. My Beta scrambles to get his umbrella out and I push past him.

I storm into the camp. Gamma soldiers and Delta officers stop in their paths, taking a moment to salute to me, before going back to their own business. The heavy rain obscures my vision and I wipe away as much water that clings to my face as I can, continuing down my path.

“Sir!” My Beta’s voice is drowned out by thunder.

“Keep up!” I yell from over my shoulder, aiming myself at a nearby tent.

As soon as I step inside, guns are raised and pointed at me. I wipe the water out of my eyes and throw my hair back, staring at the Gamma soldiers with an unamused look. They blink at me and I swear I can see the wheels turning in their head. My Beta quickly dips inside the tent and takes a deep breath.

“Sir, this is the wrong…” his words trail off once he notices the guns. I glance at him and shove my hands in my pockets, shifting my weight to my back foot.

One soldier lowers his gun, hesitation present in his movement. My eyes scan the other soldiers and they quickly follow suit. I roll my eyes and turn to my Beta.

“Get me new clothes and send in one of the Deltas that are in charge of the prisoner,” I demand. He nods and circles, exiting the tent. I look back at the soldiers and they stare at me with awestruck gazes and looks. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No sir! You just surprised us, sir!” The Gammas straighten their posture and click their heels together.

“Where is the prisoner?” As soon as the question leaves my lips, a Delta officer explodes through the doors, his hand positioned against his forehead as he salutes me.

“Sir!” He addresses me. I wave the Gamma soldiers away and they pour out of the tent, scrambling to leave. “The prisoner is asleep, sir!”

“Then wake him up!” I snap back, glaring at him.

The Delta bows his head at me and turns to the door, leaving. My Beta enters as he exits, a heap of clothes in his arms. He places them on a nearby table, alongside a towel, for me and quietly excuses himself.

I shed myself of my clothes and quickly pat myself dry, and quickly slide on the new clothes. My Beta enters once again and holds open the doors. I exit and he covers me with an umbrella, guiding me to a nearby tent. I glance at the Delta next to the door and gesture for him to follow behind me. My Beta stays outside.

The tent is dark, the only light coming from a single lightbulb that dangles in the center of the room. The prisoner is handcuffed to a chair. His head hangs low, his thin red hair greasy and stringy. In front of him sits an empty chair and to the right is a table that holds an array of tools as well as a backpack, which I can assume is his.

I inch towards him before finding myself sitting in front of him. I tilt my head to the side, my green eyes glowing through the shadows.

“Wake up,” I demand.

He doesn’t move. I kick his ankle and the man groans in response. His chin tilts up at an excruciatingly slow pace. His skin is a sickly pale color, gray even, and his yellow eyes pierce through the darkness. The man chuckles.

“All hail the Alpha King,” his voice is gravely and coarse. He coughs with a smile on his face, a low chuckle prominent through his demeanor. He rolls his head back, his face now fully basking in the light.

A scar travels from the bottom of his left eye, dragging down and into his skin through his cheek and the bottom part of his nose. His sunken skin goes through his mouth, and parts of his lips are missing, adding to his mangled appearance.

The area surrounding his lips is a bright red color. Was he burned? Did my men save him from a cyanide tablet he was given by his king? Fate can be so cruel yet so deserving.

“Who are you?” I use my Alpha voice to command him to speak. All he does is tilt his head back and laugh. The hairs on my arms stick up. “Why are you here?”

The prisoner laughs once again. His head drops down, the chains on his wrists jingling, as he fixates his yellow eyes on me. He shakes his head. The mangled corner of his lips tugs up, his expression now mocking me.

“Why did the Rogue King send you?” I lean back in the metal chair, crossing my arms over my chest. The prisoner shrugs.

Kill him…he is not worth our time…

He’s the only lead we have.

I narrow my eyes at the prisoner. Silence overtakes the tent, the only sound coming from the rain outside and the clanging of his chains.

I stand from my chair and step to the table. The tip of my finger hovers over the tools. It passed by a hammer, an icepick, scalpels, and large metal pliers. I pluck the pair of pliers from the table and wave the Delta officer over. He takes them from my hand and walks to the prisoner.

I sit back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other, and inspect my fingernails.

“I’m going to ask you ten questions. You have ten opportunities to talk and tell me what it is I want to know. This is your chance to live. There will be no eleventh chance.”

The Delta officer uses the pliers to grab onto one of the prisoner’s fingernails. His yellow eyes widen and he sits up in his chair.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” I ask, my tone slightly more cheery. I need him to cooperate with me, not work against me. “Who are you?”

The prisoner’s eyes flicker between me and the pliers. I watch him with steady eyes.

No answer.

I nod and the Delta rips the prisoner’s fingernail out. The prisoner throws his head back, a pained laugh escaping his throat.

“Why are you here?” I inquire as the Delta grabs hold of the prisoner’s next nail.

No answer.

Another nail is ripped out and the man’s laughter grows louder. It sends chills down my spine.

“Did the Rogue King send you?”

Again, no answer. The Delta rips his nail out and the prisoner doubles over.

We continue this process until he’s down to two nails left. The prisoner profusely bleeds from his fingers. There are small pools of blood by his feet and the pliers have become slippery after the previous uses.

I tower over the prisoner with beady yellow eyes. I grab a fistful of his greasy hair and yank his head back, his full face now prominent in the light.

“How did you know to go to the school?” I bark the question at him. His body trembles underneath my touch. A semblance of a smile grows on his face. Ever so slightly, he shakes his head at me. I yank his head back just as the Delta rips out his ninth fingernail, tossing it to the ground.

I release my grip and sit back down in the metal chair, glaring at him. My eyes remain shadowed under the light.

“Last chance. If you don’t answer this question, you’re going to die,” I remind him. My white shirt is now stained from sprayed blood, little spots cascading across the material.

The prisoner whimpers but covers it up with a chuckle. His head rolls around in a circle before he settles his eyes on me, challenging me. My nostrils flare and I huff, standing from my chair.

I snatch the gun from the Delta’s hip and cock it, aiming it at the prisoner’s head. He pushes his head up, forehead connecting with the barrel of the gun.

“What does the Rogue King want from me?” I spit the words out. The prisoner stares at me, his yellow eyes flickering with both delight and dread.

“You…are not ready…to see…his…divine plan…” The prisoner coughs and blood sprays from his fucked up mouth, splattering across my face. I don’t flinch, though, and keep my hardened gaze on him.

BANG!