Chapter Text
The shackles that hold your limbs clack and rattle together, each loop of metal clinking against the one looping around it. Two guards guide you down the hall, one holding the chains ends, the other holding the one to the muzzle confining your mouth. They called you a biter, too many sharp teeth for their liking. They say the same thing about your claws, strength, speed, even your cries and howls.
They'll never understand. All they do is collect dangerous animals and werewolves, chain them up and make them fight. Dirty and bloody is how they always end. If it wasn't, well the crowd would be disappointed. Bad reputation for them, right?
So you're always covered in some form of injury, whether that be bruises, cuts, bloody nose, a black eye. The list goes on.
They force you to a halt, yanking roughly on the chains to pull you back to them, keeping you in line. You're stopped outside your cell, just a small room with a grotty mattress on the floor, anchors to lock the chains onto the ground, and a bucket in the corner.
Your shoved forcefully inside, a man stepping in and gripping the shackles that hold you at their mercy, locking them onto the anchors. Once done the man stands and exits the room, shutting and locking the steel bar door behind him. They clear out, leaving you alone in the grimy cell. You curl up on the mattress, tail curling inward around you as you whimper, the pain on your left side your newest bruise and probably your biggest.
You'd arrived here a few months ago, not long after they hunted your kin, trying to find the strongest of the pack. That being you apparently. So here you are, a wolf in a cage, forced to fight to amuse the humans above who watch your suffering as entertainment. It's both disgusting and cruel, yet they're too deep in to give a crap.
The hair on the back of your neck rises, ears and tail perked up as a loud bang echoes through the hall, followed by three more and a thud against what you assume to be metal. It's only when a figure appears in front of your cell do you back into the corner, growling behind the muzzle. The figures hands move to the lock on the door, sliding in a key into the key hole, twisting it, the door unlocking with a click as the gears and mechanisms shift and move inside. They open the door, swinging open slowly with a grinding creak from the rust building in the hinges.
The figure steps inside but stops when you growl louder, the sound muffled slightly by the muzzle. They move with caution, lowering themselves into a crouched position. The light from the high window above perfectly hits them, illuminating their face and features. A woman with dark brown hair and ocean blue eyes is revealed to you, wearing some kind of uniform with a gun in its holster at the side.
The gun makes your growls intensify as you coward more into the small corner. The woman sees this and slowly removes the gun from its holster, lifting it and placing it beside her before pushing it away to the other side of the cell. That stops your growling, turning to look at her with the tilt of your head, similarly to when a dog tilts theirs in curiosity. She doesn't seem like the bad men, maybe she's different?
The woman lowers herself onto her knees, sitting there as she observes you, her eyes landing on the shackles and muzzle that contain you. A sad frown forms on her face, confusing you further. She goes to move closer but stops when you growl, raising her hands up. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not here to hurt you." She reassures, keeping her hands in place as she glances over your ankles and wrists, the shackles rubbing them raw. "That looks quite painful," She says, gesturing to the raw skin.
You hesitate but nod in agreement, it is quite painful. Her lips quirk into a small smile, a gentle one. "If you'd like, I can get that off for you," She offers when gesturing to the shackles. You think about it for a minute, considering your opinions here.
If you expect, you'll be free. If you don't, you won't be able to get them off, and who knows if the next person will be as kind. But what if it's a trick? Is she just being kind to lure you into false belief?
Well, what else have you got to lose at this point?
So, you nod, agreeing to her offer.
She comes close, slow and gentle, like she's trying not to spook a frightened animal. When closer, her hands reach into the pockets on the sides of her belt, taking out a pair of gloves, one's specifically made to protect werewolves against silver. She slips them on her hands, tugging at the cuffs to make sure there on right before reaching out to the muzzle first.
The clasp unhooks as she carefully takes it off your face, making sure not to hurt you in the process. Once off she inspects for any injuries that it caused, releasing a sigh of relief when finding none, thankfully.
Next comes the shackles. Using the same keyring she used for the cell door, the woman slides the key into the key hole, turning it with a click and unlocks the cuffs. The burning silver slides off your sore wrists and ankles, clattering to the cold concrete.
"There, how does that feel?" She asks while reaching into her pockets for something else. You nod, tempting to give a thumbs up to clarify that it does feel better but your wrists are too sore to do the gesture. It does feel better though, even if it's left a throbbing pain behind and some burns. Other than that, and the massive bruise on your side, you're relatively okay.
She looks back up, holding a small medkit in her hands. Her head cocks to the side, quirking an eyebrow in question. It takes you a minute to realize she's wanting a verbal response, something you sadly cannot provide.
You point to your mouth, then putting both your index fingers across each other diagonally to form an X shape over your mouth. The realization seems to hit her at your action, sadly smiling. "Ah, I see. That's okay then."
She gives you her hand which you hesitantly take, letting her pull you up with her. Your legs buck severely, the woman's arms instinctively supporting you by your waist, holding you up. Her arm slings over your shoulder and under your armpit while the other wraps around your waist as she leads you out of the cell.
"It's going to be alright, your safe now," She tells you as you both finally leave this hell hole, hopefully for good.