Chapter Two

Revenge

I heard a soft grunt and felt myself being lifted into the air.

'I'm being rescued...'

I was wrong though.

When my eyes opened I saw a questionably familiar face. One with eyes the color of coal and pointed teeth. I wanted to fight. To roll out of his arms, sweep his legs and run away. It was impossible though. A burning sensation was impossible to ignore. It began in my shoulder and ran through the rest of my veins. I could feel my leg was still bound, but that didn't stop it from hurting. That didn't prevent the brutal screaming of pain protruding from it.

My dad's voice came to mind. Singing my lullaby.

'One, two, now we're off, dear...'

I could hear my heart pound in my ears.

'Going up, she goes! Up she goes!'

My face was masked in sweat and probably dirt. One of my eyes felt smaller than the other as if it were swelling. My breaths were shallow and rattling.

'Balance yourself like a bird on a beam... In there she goes! There she goes!'

There was a vague feeling of stickiness coming from the left side of my body.

'Up, up, a little bit higher... Oh my! The moon is on fire!'

"Ah!" I gasped, feeling a sting shoot through my neck.

"Sh, sh, sh," the man crooned.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Instead I succumbed to sleep, once more.

The process of coming in and out of sleep happened often over the span of two days. Each time a different sight came into view. Torches. Rows of sleeping children. Finally, a wooden desk pressed against a stone wall with a golden candle stick holder, the white candle burned almost completely out with wax spilling over it.

That was the sight that made me stay awake.

I blinked a few times letting everything come into focus. What was I looking at? Rather, where was I?

Jumbled papers lay on the top of the desk with a sturdy, wooden chair pushed into it. No pictures or tapestries adorned the walls.

I was pleasantly surprised that my body was no longer overcome with pain, but instead slightly achy. As though I'd slept in an uncomfortable position.

As heavy as my arms felt, I managed to push myself up, so I was sitting. Then I noticed I was on a large bed, with a dark red duvet. I couldn't begin to comprehend where I was.

Regardless, I still took in my surroundings.

The first thing I noticed was how though the whole room was made of cement and stone, there was a wooden door on the other side of the room.

I turned my head to the left to see long, white curtains that filtered in just the slightest bit of light, beside that was a wardrobe and beside that a mirror. On the nightstand opposite my side of the bed was a burned out candle and a bottle of Skelegrow, nothing more.

I still hadn't the faintest idea of where I was. Going out the door to check my location was not a good idea. Not when I had no idea what lurked just outside.

'Look out the window,' that smart voice in my mind suggested.

I went to slide out of the bed then realized that my leg was no longer bound. Furthermore, it didn't hurt. My eyes flickered back to the bottle of Skelegrow and the faintest memory of someone pouring it down my throat came to mind. Someone had healed my broken leg. The method of mending a broken leg with Skelegrow meant that they had not set the bone and healed it with a simple spell. Rather, it meant someone had cast a spell to dissolve the bone in my leg and grew me new bones. The thought sent a chill down my spine and I found myself thankful that I had been too heavily knocked out to wake up during that process.

Still, such a crude method of healing a broken bone made me uneasy as I struggled to recall the events that had led me here.

I found it surprisingly easy to stand. I felt no pain and no fatigue.

I walked with trepidation towards the drapes, eager to see what side of the world the sun was coming from. My mind hoped for the English countryside or perhaps a bustling, small town. I did not know how far off those guesses were.

My hands tentatively grabbed the rough fabric of the drapes and I pulled them aside with trepidation.

My jaw dropped at the sight before me.

Out the large, glass, paned window I was able to make out that I was high in the air and that the light I had seen creeping in was not that of the sun. Instead it was a Quidditch field sized room with high ceilings. Everything was grey. The floors, the walls, the lighting. Perhaps what was most shocking was the amount of people...and their varying ages...and their activities... Their savage activities. Most of them were children and they were throwing themselves violently at what appeared to be workout dummies. Muggle workout dummies. This operation, whatever it was, definitely wasn't well funded.

Everyone was dressed in black, tight fitting clothes and rows of empty cots that I had seen when I was in and out of consciousness lined one area of the room.

I closed the curtains with shaking hands. Where was I? What was I doing here? My knees threatened to buckle, causing me to stumble backwards. I caught myself on the edge of the bed only to be frightened once more.

To my right was a girl, eyes wide. I hadn't even noticed her. She was haunting and worn and...me. My jaw hung slightly open as I realized that I had caught my reflection in a long, standing, oval mirror. With unsteady feet I approached it.

I was surprisingly clean, though my outfit was practically unrecognizable. My hose were ripped in several places and my boots were gone. The pleated skirt I had worn last night was torn and my white button up was caked with dirt. However the dirt on my shirt wasn't what was so troubling. It was the massive amount of blood on my shoulder. I gasped softly and touched the collar, now crisp and rusty brown. Tugging it down I saw a large, mesh patch with some blood seeping through.

"What..." I breathed. "Oh."

Then it came back to me. I had been bitten last night by a werewolf. Turning my head I noted the long, deep cuts starting on my right cheekbone and going all the way down my neck. They had already begun to heal, but would scar. After all, they were cursed wounds. I was cursed.

'So all I know if that I've been healed and that I'm a werewolf... I don't know where I am, who took me here or why whoever they are are keeping me alive...' I thought.

The door swung open and I jumped with a gasp. Behind me stood the man from last night. Though the whole ordeal was fuzzy, his face was still familiar with perfect clarity. I reached for my wand that I would normally keep tucked in my skirt, but it was nowhere to be found. Confiscated.

"You'll get your wand back eventually," the man sighed, shutting the door as he walked in. "How are you Josephine?"

I stood, trembling before this frightening man. I felt tears flood my eyes as they scanned the room for a weapon. Anything I could use as a weapon.

"Are you going to answer me?"

He removed the long coat I recognized from last night and let it fall limply to the floor. In nothing but ill fitting trousers he began to approach me. A glimmer of gold caught my eye. The candlestick holder on the desk by the other side of the room. I could bludgeon him well with this. Then make a break for it.

The man slowly sauntered forward prompting me to climb on his bed and move opposite. The smoky black eyes bore into me, burning my soul. My heart was thrumming in my ears as a low chuckle emitted from the man.

"I'm Fenrir Greyback," he greeted cordially.

I became grateful for the barrier the bed created between us. He walked over to the window I had stood before and drew the curtains back, watching the scene below like a proud father. With his back to me I lithely and silently moved to the desk and grabbed the candlestick holder, gripping it tightly.

"And you're Josephine, if I recall. Correct?"

"Yes," I replied.

I barely recognized my voice. It was hoarse and low. I suddenly became aware of how dry my throat was and coughed. Greyback sighed, starting to face. Casually I placed my hand that grasped the candlestick holder behind my back. Hopefully it didn't look too suspicious.

He grinned at me, exposing his sharp teeth just barely.

"You must be thirsty. Forgive my manners. Would you like me to fetch you something to drink?" he asked.

I nodded in response.

Greyback strolled around the bed heading towards his desk.

'Oh, no,' I thought.

He was going to notice the missing candle. I would have to attack the second Greyback reached the desk. Otherwise, I would be found out. Quickly, I backed up against the wall beside the bed, bracing my foot up against it while I leaned back as nonchalantly as I could manage.

"I always keep a stash of Goblin Ale in my desk. Properly brewed, may I add," he said pointedly.

The second he reached his desk I pushed myself off the wall with my foot and ran towards him, rearing the candle holder over my head. I jumped at his back bring my hand down to bash in his head.

He whipped around and grabbed my wrist, pushing me to the floor with ease. My head smacked against the ground and I released my weapon, suddenly incoherent. My eyes shut, the sound of the candlestick holder rolling away and Greyback laughing darkly ringing in my ears.

"That must have hurt," he remarked.

I opened my eyes, two Greybacks were above me. Slowly they came into focus forming one hideous monster of a man. With a complacent look, Greyback bent down, grabbed me by my shoulders and threw me onto the bed. He was still laughing.

"You're a funny thing, Josephine. First you try and escape a fully developed werewolf in the forest with a broken leg and now you're attempting to take on a grown man. You've got quite a bit of...pluck."

Slowly, I found the strength to sit up. Greyback had walked back to the desk and removed a bottle from a drawer with two glasses. He poured dark brown liquid into each of them and strolled with a sigh back to the bed, extending a glass to me. Hesitantly, I accepted. Desperate for something to drink. He watched with eager eyes as I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. It burned as it ran down my throat, but somehow soothed the dryness. I knew that effect was only temporary.

I must have made an amusing expression because he seemed quite entertained.

"I need water. Alcohol won't positively contribute to dehydration," I grumbled in an almost whisper.

"You'll have water soon enough. I don't want you weak. After all, I like you and I would hate for you to die in the fight," he remarked.

I blinked in confusion. A fight? My confusion was apparent.

"I mean it, I like you. Sadly, though," he sighed taking a seat next to me on the bed," you need to be evaluated."

Instinctively I scooted over, shifting so I could only see him in my peripheral vision. He took a sip of his drink then placed a hand on my back.

"You see, though I find you fascinating and your many attempts to escape me in the past twenty four hours have been very entertaining, I need to make sure you can cut it here."

I didn't respond. His fingers fell slowly down my back sending a shiver down my spine. Evaluated? This past ten minutes had been the most exhausting of my life. I'd woke up in a foreign place with a new, cursed set of DNA. I'd been faced with a horrifying truth and tried to attack a man nearly twice my size. Needless to say that this whole fighting concept was news to me and my brain just barely had the capacity to store even more new information.

"Who-who am I fighting?" I asked, still looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

He bared his yellow teeth in a sinister smile.

"Wizards, witches...more of us."

'Us? Oh...'

By 'us' Greyback meant werewolves. I had almost forgotten. For a brief moment the fact that I was now a werewolf had left my mind. An ignorant bliss had overcome me and my plagued blood was only a fleeting thought...until now. My heart fell as it sank in that I was one of the cursed ones.

The stages of grief seemed to pass within seconds. Perhaps that was because I knew who was truly responsible for this act of atrocity. He was right beside me.

"In about an hour, enough time for you to mentally prepare yourself, I will place you in an arena with nine of my best pledges and recruits. The lot of you will battle and whoever wins will be promoted to Elite."

'Pledges? Recruits? Elite?'

Nothing was making sense. The only thing I understood was that I was now a werewolf and that I would soon battle for a promotion.

"And whoever loses?" I asked softly.

"They die."

His response was so casual it sent shivers down my spine. My fists clenched and I felt myself start to tremble again. Greyback's eyes were on me, burning a hole in my skin practically.

"Don't fret. I have faith in you. You're a fighter and a Slytherin," he said tapping the emblem on my breast.

I jerked away and he laughed quietly.

"You Slytherins will go to any lengths to survive."

I finally forced myself to look at him. His eyes were so black. Like smoke after a large fire.

"S-so you're saying I'll have to kill people in order to live," I clarified.

He gave a single nod in confirmation. I inhaled trying to soothe the raging fire of anxiety in my chest. I suddenly felt fury well up inside me. My eyes narrowed at him, causing him to raise his brows.

"What if I don't care to live anymore?" I countered.

"Are you saying you would rather die than stay here?" asked Greyback.

"Essentially."

"Huh," he mused.

There was a pause in which we both maintained eye contact. I was surprised at how easy it was to do so. I was terrified and every instinct I had encouraged me to shrink away. I fought the urge to do so and set my jaw. I knew he was trying to intimidate me and I would not allow that to happen.

"I don't believe you'll throw in the towel so soon, Josephine."

"No?" I snapped.

Greyback shook his head, bringing his knuckle to my face and tipping up my chin. I closed my eyes tight, trying not to pull away.

"No. It's instinct to protect yourself and I'm sure when you see at least one of your opponents you won't be able to resist attacking."

My eyes shot open and I felt my heart pound harder. It didn't take a genius to know what he was talking about. Blane, Nelda, Corin or Phineas. I was about to fight one of them.

"Which one of them did you capture?" I asked in an even tone.

Greyback looked at his ceiling contemplatively then back down to me. He tapped his chin and shook his head once more.

"I'd like that to be a surprise."

"Who is it?" I growled.

"I won't say."

"Who!"

Suddenly Greyback's hand came flying towards my face and met my face. My head whipped in the direction he had struck me in and a surge of pain ached in my cheekbone. Then it began to sting. Slowly, I looked back to him, my mouth slightly agape.

"Talk back to me again and I'll do a lot more than slap you," he warned in a sinister voice.

I breathed frantically through my nose, setting my jaw. Greyback pointed his finger in my face.

"Do you understand?"

"Hitting me doesn't necessarily inspire me to fight," I replied.

"I didn't ask for a snide comment. I asked if you understood, Josephine."

I did not answer but stared at him with utter vehemence in my eyes. He cocked a brow at me, awaiting my obedient response. Finally I answered.

"Yes, I understand," I replied slowly.

"Good," Greyback stated. "I'm going to grab you a change of clothes, water and a brush then we'll take you to the arena."

He braced his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. They sounded heavy and deliberate as he walked to the door. Greyback glanced over his shoulder at me. I swallowed.

"You can try and escape if you like. It will prove quite amusing, I'm sure," he laughed darkly.

Then he was gone.

Counting to ten, I tried to steady my breathing. I could try and escape. Charge that door and see what awaited me outside, praying I made it out alive. I'd probably be killed though.

Then again, in death I would be free. Free of this curse. Free of being forced to fight. That was also an option.

However, I was never one to take the easy way out. I had always been a fighter. Then there was the chance to get revenge on the ones who had done this to me. Whoever it was he had thrust into that arena. I hoped it was Blane. Oh, I hoped it was Blane.

I finally resolved to fight. If I was killed, I was free. If I fought and won, I would have my revenge. Shortly after my victory, I would kill myself.

I'd rather die than be here.

Eventually, Greyback returned with provisions. Water, some bread, even new clothes and some twine for a hair band. I was more than uncomfortable beneath his gaze as ate and even more so while he watched dress. The outfit he had supplied me with was familiar. Something I often wore during combat training with my father.

A tight, short sleeved, black shirt and black capris of the same material. Unfortunately, I was not provided any sneakers or combat boots. Instead I was stuck in the flats I had worn last night.

His eyes sent a shiver down my spine as I removed my sweater and tie, then unbuttoned my shirt. I'd never been observed like this.

"You're very beautiful," he remarked.

I realized that I had started to tremble under Greyback's gaze. As I pulled the black shirt over my head, I felt hot breath against my neck causing me to jump slightly. Suddenly his hand had slid under my top and was grasping my right breast. In a knee jerk reaction, my elbow came up and rammed him in the nose three times. His hand released me and I heard him fall back a few paces, hitting something.

Quickly, I whipped around to see Greyback steadying himself on the bedpost, his nose bleeding. My chest heaved up and down as I stared at him. Though my eyes were brave and my chin was tilted upward in confidence, my heart pounded in my ears awaiting his violent reaction. Instead he just chuckled, touching the blood on his nose then looking at it amusedly.

"You're tougher than I thought."

I couldn't bring myself to respond. Not now at least. I was too on edge.

Greyback pushed himself to his feet. Quickly, I pulled on the pants he had provided me with before he could reach me. He closed the distance between us with three steps then gripped me my by shoulders. His fingers dug deep into my skin, causing me to cringe. He pulled me closer to him, his black eyes locking with mine.

"Do you not understand what I could do to you? I could kill you right now if I wanted."

My breathing hastened and I swallowed hard to keep down the sob that threatened to escape my lips.

"Then do it," I said in a firm but quiet voice.

His eyes narrowed and a sickening smile spread on his lips.

"I like you. You've got spirit, Josephine."

I gritted my teeth, suppressing a cry of anxiety. My head was hurting and his sharpened fingernails dug deeper into my skin. I could feel the skin start to break. Without warning he shoved me hard backwards. I landed with a loud thump on my backside, grunting in pain. Greyback bent down and grabbed my upper arm, yanking me to my feet.

"Now, you're going to do as I say and come with me to the arena."

'Son of a bitch...'

The fear must have shown in my eyes as he laughed a deep, throaty timbre.

"Come now, Josie... Don't you want your revenge?"

And that was what scared me most. I came to the realization that I did want my revenge.

"Yes."