10 years ago

I was ushered away from my room to the safety of my Uncle Robins who wasn’t pack related to us but friends with us. The seven-year old me panicked at being taken away harshly by the guards and I’m pretty sure I had kicked one of them in the face. My Uncle Robins took me outside, holding my hand surrounded by body guards and I was shocked. The state outside my home was so bloody. Too bloody for my seven-year old eyes to watch but I watched anyway. I winced as I saw a pack member get killed by another intruding wolf. Above all the noise I could hear the booming voice of my dad stating that they didn’t want war. The wolves only just growled and it happened too fast. They pounced at my pack members and I cried as I watched my favorite auntie get killed along with my mother and father. The noise was horrible and I couldn’t bear hearing it but I did. I saw my grandparents fighting hard and I recall yelling at them telling them that they shouldn’t be fighting. I recalled that loud rip of flesh as they were killed. Killed by another wolf. I practically jumped into Uncle Robins arms crying. As I could do nothing but observe the scene, I saw a boy standing. I could tell it was a werewolf but it didn’t join the fight. Just watched. He was looking at the pack but I guess that he noticed my stare on him because he turned around. I’m pretty sure he saw me because a ripple of worry showed across his face as he tried to compress it a second later. I’ve always wondered who that boy was since then but I never saw him again.

  I was seven and extremely terrified when I turned around from staring at him and saw all my pack members, including my family and relatives, lying on the floor, all dead surrounded by a huge pool of blood. I never cried so much in my short life. The intruding wolves howled before changing back and putting on their clothes. I heard their evil laughter as they turned around to observe the mess they made. The howled in happiness while the boy just stood there shaking. When the leader of the attack turned around and walked to the boy, he shrunk away. From what I could tell, that was his father and I was disgusted. Even from my spot, I could hear him stutter. Saying “Y-you-you-you’re a m-murderer. Your n-not my f-father. My father is not a m-m-murderer like you. YOUR DIGUSTING AND SCARY!!!!” He has started off all shy and stuttering and ended yelling and mad. Without a single warning, he ran off and I watched as what I assumed to be his pack chased after him. He was a fast runner even for  werewolf. I watched him until I couldn’t see him anymore then I realized, I had no pack. No family. They were all killed by his pack. AND I HATED THEM FOR IT.

Uncle Robins tried to take me back to his pack house but I relented.  I wanted to go back to my pack house which had thankfully remained untouched. I walked back in and took the things my family and pack had treasured most and took them with me. I don’t know why but I felt like I had to take everything. I didn’t want to leave a single thing behind so I took everything. From clothes to trophies and furniture, I took it all. Uncle Robins had a spare room that was humongous so I stored everything I took in there. All neat and sometimes slept there since I put a bed in there. I watched as the old pack house was now abandoned. I missed the old pack house already and it had barely been a day. We had decided to bury all my pack members on my pack territory. All around the house now which were once green and lively grass was now nothing but a graveyard. We had a big funeral where all the packs that treasured my pack came. It took me a long while to get over them but now I am.

AND I WILL. AVENGE THEM ALL.

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This is a first chapter and I should warn you that i'm no writer. Feel free to point out any mistakes. :)