Nyx Drabble: Shortened Backstory
The girl had long stopped fighting the cold, solid bars of the metal cage. Her teeth and fingers hurt from trying to bite and claw her way out of the cage her captors had put her in, but the strong metal didn't give. Not wanting to hear her snarls and growls, her captors had shut her in a room all alone; they had called it "The Quiet Room".
It was dark, quiet, and lonely. Without the light of even a cracked door or window, the girl had no reference to time. She couldn't tell if she had been in the room for only a couple of minutes or a couple of hours. However long it was, the girl did not spend her time despairing or crying. No, she was angry, furious! The time allowed her to think and plan. Plan how to escape. Plan how to get home.
-:-
Light suddenly filled the room. The sound of carnival music sounded faintly in the distance while the smell of sweet and fried foods wafted into the room. Two men entered the room silently, not even acknowledging the girl in the cage. She glared at them, her gold eyes staring holes through their faces, but they never met her stare. They fit two metal bars under the cage, lifted, and carried her out. It was her shame, her steel palanquin, her portable prison.
-:-
For almost twelve hours a day, from the moment the cage bearers set her down in a small red tent to the evenings when they would come back to take her away, the girl would curl up in a corner of the cage while large crowds of people would pack themselves into the tent and gawk at her. She hated the stupid faces they made and the shrieks some of them would give when they saw the scarred and grizzled wolf, whose cage sat across from hers. The wolf was old, not deaf. Every once and a while, though, a cocky young human would go up to the old wolf's cage and drum his fingers on the bottom of the cage. When they got no reaction, the human would get bored and move along.
Some would stare at the girl, but not for long. The girl would stay curled up in her corner. If a particular human started annoying her more than usual, she would glare at them. The offender would never be able to meet her stare, instead choosing to bow their head and walk out of the tent as quickly as they could.
However, the girl had a soft spot for small children. Every now and then, a child's parent would leave the tent, forgetting all about the little one. Some cried, while some chose to stare at the strange girl in the cage instead. If they cried, the girl would uncurl from her ball and beckon the child over. The young child, being scared and panicked, would walk to the cage. The girl would pat their heads and do a little howl, making the child try to copy her, mess up, and laugh. However, when the parent came back, the girl was always careful to scoot back into her corner of the cage. She had learned in the past that if she didn't do so, the parent would shriek, making the child scared and cry all over again. The parent would swoop in and scoop up their child and run out of the tent, as if they were performing a dramatic rescue mission. Almost every day was like this, every day for the next three years.
-:-
The day was hot and humid, but the normal crowd of people shuffled into the small tent to see the strange girl in the cage. But it was different. The crowed seemed more irritable and impatient than usual, even for this kind of weather. They would stand in the tent, fanning themselves, and complain how it was too hot to be about and that the girl wasn't moving. Some resolved to throw food at the cage, but it would hit the bars and fall to the floor. The girl hissed in annoyance when she saw the thrower shrug and walk out of the tent, leaving the food on the floor. If she were to collect all the food that had been thrown at her so far, it would have been able to feed her pack for a month, and she could smell even more food outside.
-:-
Evening finally hit. The weather cooled down and the amount of people visiting the tent decreased. But, the musty smell of sweat and body odor remained. The girl sat in her cage, waiting for the bearers to come and take her away from the hot and smelly tent. She stared at the tent flap and waited for the two men to enter, they didn't. They were unusually late.
A few moments later, five young and drunk adults stumbled into the tent. The girl's eyes flashed. She especially hated drunk, they smell of their breath and how they were constantly so loud.
One of the males, a tall dark-haired boy stared at her and laughed, "You know these….freaks aren't really freaks." He took a long swig from the bottle he was carrying. "It's all costumes, make-up, and acts!"
"Ooooo, so does that mean that this – the giggly young female of the group checked the sign- Wolf Girl is normal like us?"
One of her companions scoffed, "If she's willing to take an act like that, and dress like that, then maybe she is a freak!"
The girl didn't react, nor really understand when the giggly group was saying due to all the slurring, but she didn't like what the tone they were using.
"Come on, Jake! Give the Wolf Girl a kiss!" One of the males shouted, making the others hoot with glee. "Jake" nodded and, with a cocky smirk, stepped towards the cage.
The girl's golden eyes flashed and she growled a low warning note. The old wolf cocked an ear and growled with her, causing the drunks to turn around and shriek with laughter.
"Careful Jake, she's already got someone special!"
Jake laughed with them and got closer to the cage. The girl's growl turned into a snarl. She uncurled from her ball and flashed her teeth.
Unfazed, the boy wrapped his fingers around one of the metal bars, "Aww, look, the little dog has some teeth."
The laughter from his friends turned into terrified screaming as the girl sprang from her spot with surprising speed and closed her hand around the boy's neck. Her sharp, untrimmed fingernails broke the tender skin of his neck, making little rivulets of blood stream down to his shirt. The boy put his hands on her wrist, trying to pull himself away, but her grip was like the metal bars of her cage: unyielding.
With incredible strength, she pulled the terrified drunk toward the cage. He moved one of his hands from her wrist to her upper arm, a huge mistake.
However, the screams of the terrified young adults brought a "handler" into the tent. He took out a cattle prod and quickly jabbed the feral girl in the side, making her yelp and retreat as far away from the prod as she could. But, she took a large chunk out of the young man's hand, a prize.
The "handler" shoved the boy – who cradled his mangled hand against his chest- away from the cage.
"Didn't you read the sigh, boy?! That's a genuine feral child, and you got what was coming to you!" The handler scolded.
The boy's companions started arguing with the "handler", but the girl never got to hear the exchange. The cage bearers had finally come to get her. They picked up her cage and carried her away, prize and all.
-:-
The little boat had never stood a chance. Thunder roared in the sky before giving way to a cruel whip of lighting. Rain fell in heavy torrents, causing the ocean to swell and beat upon the island's shore as if to scream "Enough!"
In the midst of the storm, a young woman dragged herself onto the shore. Her arms and legs shook with effort as she stood upright and fought the wind and waves to stay that way. She walked out of the ocean and kept on walking until she blindly bumped into a small boulder. It had a small outcrop and she collapsed under it.
-:-
The storm was over and her arm was throbbing painfully. The woman tried to ignore the pain and sleep a little more, but the throbbing turned into burning. The woman opened her eyes and she growled.
Just below her wrist was a diamond-shaped implant. It was pulsing from red to blue, causing the pulsing up her arm and the skin around the implant to burn.
The woman growled again, but she slowly raised her other hand and touched it. She tensed up, expecting pain, but a happy female voice spoke instead.
"Hello Survivor 941677, Subject: Nyx, and welcome to ARK Island."
The woman narrowed her eyes, "Nnnnnnyx." She repeated to herself, now that was a name she had not heard in a long time.
"The Island is a dangerous place and you will survive only if you know how." The voice continued. "Use your strength, wits, or whatever talents you have at your disposal, to keep yourself alive. Right now your current survival quotient is….Undefined. Enjoy your time here on The Island. Good Luck!"
With that, the voice went silent and the implant went dark, making the pulsing and burning stop after it did so.
Nyx, however, hadn't been listening. She had been studying her new surroundings. Past the small boulder was a forest. Tall trees loomed over her; its interior was dark. Shrubs and thick undergrowth hid whatever possible predators that the forest maintained. Sharp stones and sticks poked out of the dirt, threatening to shred her unprotected feet, while strange roars and howls echoed from within the woods.
Nyx smiled. For once, she felt like she was home.