Flashback 1

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The first thing the mid teen boy noticed was the deep pounding of his head when he came back to the land of consciousness. 

It was throbbing with each pulse in his body with an intensity that could rival the sledge hammer of the humans. A painful groan left his lips, something he heard but didn't realize it to be his until the movement of his lips registered in his head.

Soon enough, he tried to move his fingers and toes. He has been taught by his father that in situations like these, taking note of what body parts are moveable is essential. More than even opening your eyes.

Once he manages to move all his fingers, he notes how he seemed to be lying on his side. He opens his eyes briefly to see if the lights were going to hurt his sight only to realize that there was next to no light where he was.

Grunting under his breath, he swallows thickly, hardly noticing anything as the pounding on his head increased.

Tears gather in his eyes as he pulls every strength in his body to sit up straight, letting out harsh breaths as he opens his eyes again to look around better.

It takes him a few minutes to adjust to his vision.

The place, it looks like a prison.

The metal bars were on two adjacent sides, the other two were walls made of course grey stones. There was a stone made bed of sorts where he had been lying. Outside the prison he was in, he saw all the walls made of the same grey stones. He could barely make out another two prisons. One right across his, with a hallway between them and one across it with a hallway in between them too.

If anything, he assumed it to be the underground prison chamber of some old kingdom.

What troubled the boy is the inability of his to see more. He is a supernatural, his sight should allow him to see further, hear better and smell the faintest trail but he can't seem to do any of that.

The boy runs his hands through his brown hairs, gripping it tightly as he struggles against his pounding head to remember what he last knew of.

His heart stops when he realizes that the last time he could remember was sitting in the library with his mom as she reads him a story in her dialect.

Suppressing his pain, the tall for his age boy stands up from his hard and cold bed running to the bars to his right, the one facing the other cell. He mindlessly grips the bars of metals, only to jump back as it burns deeply in his skin.

"Hell beyond!"

His voice resonates in the silence, his focus on his hands as he watches burn marks not healing as fast as it should.

"Let me guess," a female voice surprises him enough for him to forget his pain for a minute. "You either right now realized that you are stuck here, or you stupidly grabbed the bars. Which one is it?"

The voice, almost childlike and scratchy came from the cell furthest from him.

The surprise receding, the pain in his head comes back in full force. Clutching it again, he grimaces before speaking. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

She takes a few minutes to respond.

Minutes that the boy takes to find every possible explanation on why he could be there, stuck in a centuries old underground cell, alone with his head feeling as if it's about to explode.

"You must be the famous hybrid."

This confuses him for a second before he is reminded of who he is. A hybrid of two creatures, creatures that couldn't and shouldn't be in one person. A hybrid of a werewolf- a creature of moon that take form of a wolf as and when they want and of a daemon- a creature of hell and fire like the sun, one that can light anything up and sprout huge, feathered wings.

He was indeed a hybrid, one that shouldn't be possible.

"Are you with the people who have me held here?"

"You sound like a royalty, are you one?"

"Answer me girl."

He was getting irritated as well as anxious. He needed to go back to his mom, she hadn't been well for the past few days and this will worry her unnecessarily. He didn't want it.

"If I were, do you think I would be in this cell?"

"How do you know me?"

His voice was apprehensive as he tried to tap into any one of the two conflicting parts of his to see who he is talking to. But he couldn't. For some reason his supernatural part seemed to be buried in some corner in his head. His sense is now as human as his body.

"You have been the one they had been obsessed about for the past month."

"You have been here for the past month?"

Surprise coated his words. He couldn't imagine his life in these cells even for a day. But then again maybe it had to do something with the glamour and luxury that he had been accustomed to. After all, in his place, his bathroom was bigger than the entire area the cells covered.

"Give or take."

The casualness in her voice took him off guard. The girl, who sounded younger than him, used to it, unaffected even in this situation. The boy questioned the mental health of her for a moment. It couldn't be healthy at all, to be this casual about being stuck in here for approximately a month.

The boy starts to feel his headache subsiding, sitting on the floor in the middle of the cell in defeat. He had nothing he could do till his wolf or daemon resurface, so he decides to question her till then.

"Who are you?"

"Just a prisoner, like you."

He lest out an unintentional snort, "That was pretty obvious. I asked in sense of a name or species or something so I can call you that when I want to address you."

"I hardly think that is needed, after all... there really isn't anyone else here who you could call."

"Touché."

It falls silent for a while again, as he falls deep in his thought. It makes no sense in his head. He was in a highly secured part of the palace, the royal palace being a guarded area itself. To top it off, he was with his mom. He couldn't fathom how could he end up here.

"You... You have been brought here a few hours ago. If I am correct, they would have suppressed your link to your supernatural state."

Her words sink in his head, his head falling back as he desperately prays for the safety of his parents. Trying to distract himself from his dark thoughts, he asks her.

"What is your age? You sound young?"

"What is the date?"

The boy thinks back to the breakfast he had shared with his parents today morning. He wasn't even sure if it was today or not, not even sure what time of the day it was. But he humours her.

"It is the fourth of November."

"Then it is my twelfth birthday tomorrow."

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