Chapter 1

The Girl

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Long enough not to remember who I am or what I did before I came here. I sometimes wonder if I did something bad. Bad enough that they put me in this place, I don’t even know my name. Did I ever have one?

I don’t remember when I stopped making marks on the wall to count the days. One wall is almost filled with tally marks, which account for thousands of days.

Why did I stop making the marks? Was it because I realised the futility of it? I must have realised that no one was ever coming to set me free. No one was going to save me from this nightmare.

I can still tell the passage of time. When the sun rises, it shines through the grate in the ceiling; when it sets, this place is plunged into darkness. When it rains, it pours through the grate, so I have to stay close to the walls to avoid getting wet. In the winter, it’s freezing, as the wind howls through the grate. I don’t understand why I haven’t frozen to death. I have no clothes, but it doesn’t really bother me. Just the metal collar that is around my neck. It’s always been there. I tried to take it off once, but I couldn’t find any fastening. Just a solid, smooth metal all the way around.

There is one door in the wall, but it never opens. There is no handle on this side, and it’s made of solid metal. Sometimes I forget it’s there. I wonder if it’s sealed shut.

I never forget about the grate, though, mostly because that’s where the food comes from. Someone tosses it through the opening, although I never see them and they never speak. If not for the food that comes through, I would have probably died of starvation long ago.

I see no one. Talk to no one. Except for her. The stranger in my head.

Perhaps that’s why I started talking to myself. I’m not sure when I started. It’s strange, though, because the voice in my head speaks with a different voice. She tells me to be strong. That this will all be over soon. I don’t believe her.

Perhaps the people who put me here put her in my head. A different type of torture. To instil a false hope. A hope that someday I might get out of here. That hope has slowly disappeared with each passing day. Sometimes I wish she would leave me alone, but she has her uses.

She sometimes tells me when the food arrives, if I’ve been sleeping, or if it’s pitch dark.

I don’t know how she knows, but she does. She guides me to crawl to the place where it lies.

Other times, she will tell me not to eat it. I’m not about to starve myself on her account. Usually, after I’ve eaten it, she’ll shut up for a couple of days, but she always returns. When she does, she scolds me for not listening to her.

I try to ignore her incessant complaining and scolding. I’m doing what I have to do to stay alive, but perhaps she has a point. Perhaps death would be easier.

I glance up at the grate for the umpteenth time today. Two days have passed, and no one has dropped any food through the grate. The sun has risen and set twice, and I have a gnawing pain in my stomach from it being empty for so long.

I lick the damp walls. They are always damp, which is why they never bother to give me water, just food, but it does little to fill my belly.

The food isn’t much, just stale bread usually. But at least it keeps the hunger pains in my stomach at bay.

I crawl into the corner and lean against the wall. Closing my eyes, I managed to drift into a dreamless sleep.

I wake up with a start when I hear a lot of noise coming from above. Growls of beasts and screams of people. Footsteps not walking slowly towards the grate, but running. I can almost sense their fear, or at least she can.

I wrap my arms around my knees as I pull them into my chest. My body trembles, and my gaze is fixed on the grate.

“They are coming.”

I shake my head when I hear her voice. I don’t want anyone to come. I just want them to drop the food and leave. Leave me here in the dark, where it’s safe.

My eyes are so focused on the grate; it takes me a second to realise what is happening.

The door, sealed for as long as I can remember, begins to open. The sound of metal grinding on stone as the door is pushed open. First, a few inches and then a little wider.

I push myself against the wall, trying to make myself small. Perhaps whoever is coming in won’t see me. Perhaps they will leave. Or perhaps that’s not the reason they’re here. Perhaps they’re here to kill me. Finally, to get rid of me so they don’t have to keep tossing food through the grate.

When the door finally opens, a man stands in the doorway. He points a light into the gloom.

“Damn,” he hisses, “the stench in here.”

Another voice growls behind him.

“Stop complaining. Is she here?”

The first man steps inside, holding up the light with one hand, whilst his other hand covers his mouth and nose.

He shines the light around my pit of despair. Searching until the light finds my corner.

I hold my hand up to shield my eyes. The light hurts them.

“Sweet Goddess,” he hisses, “In the corner.”

He moves to one side, and another man enters the room.

He’s taller and broader than the first one. I can see their shapes, but it’s too dark to make out their features.

The voice echoes in my head.

“They are here.”

I’m tempted to roll my eyes. Stupid voice, always stating the obvious.

I don’t move; I just stare at the two men.

The first one takes a step towards me, and I curl my lip, bare my teeth and hiss.

“Be careful, Alpha. She’s probably feral. Look at her neck.”

The second man, the one called Alpha, peers into the gloom.

He shakes his head and sighs.

“Bastard. Those collars were outlawed by the council years ago.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes another step towards me. Another hiss escapes my lips. I want to tell him to back off, but no words will come.

He stops and crouches down. Trying to make himself small. He opens the palm of his hand and holds something out.

I narrow my eyes. Staring at the strange object that the man holds in his hand.

“Take it.”

The voice in my head tells me, but I ignore her.

He withdraws his hand, and the voice in my head sighs.

The man fiddles with whatever it was he was holding, then shows it to me again. It looks different this time.

He breaks a bit off and puts it in his mouth.

“It’s good. Here…”

He offers it again. It looks different now.

I widen my nostrils. Sniffing at whatever it is he’s holding in his hand.

I lean forward slightly, watching him closely. Watching for any sign that he intends to hurt me, but I see none.

“Just take it.”

She nags again.

This time, I snatch it from his outstretched palm. He makes no attempt to grab me, but I still don’t trust him.

I hold the food to my nose and inhale. Before looking back at the man called Alpha. He nods at me, encouraging me to eat.

I quickly shove the food in my mouth.

A myriad of sensations dart across my tongue as sweet flavours fill my mouth. I barely chew it, and as I swallow, a few of the hunger pangs disappear.

He looks at me and chuckles.

“Good, isn’t it?”

I hold my hand out.

He stares at it for a moment.

“How about you give me something first?”

I tilt my head to the side, questioning. What could he possibly want from me?

“How about you tell me your name?”

I open my mouth, but no words are forthcoming.

When did I last speak? Have I ever spoken?

The conversations with the voice in my head are exactly that, in my head.

He frowns.

“How long have you been here, little one?”