3 Abandoned to Die

Amelia Monroe lay motionless on the cold, unforgiving ground. Her body was broken, battered, and bruised beyond recognition. Blood trickled from the gashes on her arms and legs, staining the damp earth beneath her. The rain had long stopped, but the chill in the air seeped deep into her bones, leaving her trembling and weak. Darkness crept around her vision, threatening to pull her under, but she fought to hold on, her mind screaming for strength.

Every breath was agony, each inhale a sharp reminder of the ribs that had been cracked beneath ruthless fists. Her lips trembled as she tried to move, but her body refused to obey. She had been abandoned. Left to die like a discarded piece of trash. The thought clawed at her heart, slicing through her already fractured soul.

Why?

Why had they done this to her? What had she ever done to deserve such cruelty? She had tried to stay invisible, tried to keep her head down, yet still, they hunted her like prey, ripping her apart for their twisted amusement.

A choked sob escaped her throat, raw and painful. The sound was swallowed by the emptiness around her. No one was coming. No one cared. The teachers turned a blind eye, the students whispered but never acted. In their eyes, she was nothing. Less than nothing.

Tears mixed with the blood on her face as she stared up at the night sky. The stars blinked down at her, distant and indifferent. Her fingers twitched, curling weakly into the dirt as rage and despair battled within her.

She didn't want to die. Not like this. Not alone. Not forgotten.

Somewhere deep inside her, a spark ignited. A voice, cold and commanding, whispered in her mind.

Get up.

She gasped, her body jerking at the sudden presence. Her heart pounded wildly, terror gripping her already fragile mind. Was she losing her sanity? Was this the final cruel trick before death claimed her?

You are not weak.

The voice was relentless, sharp as a blade, slicing through her pain and hopelessness. Amelia clenched her teeth, her fingers digging into the earth as she forced her body to move. A searing pain shot through her side, but she refused to stop. She couldn't stop. She wouldn't let them win.

With a strangled cry, she rolled onto her stomach, dragging herself forward inch by inch. Every muscle screamed in protest, but she ignored the agony. The wind howled around her, whispering secrets of vengeance, of power, of something greater than herself.

Time blurred. Minutes felt like hours, each second stretching endlessly as she fought against the suffocating weight of exhaustion. Her vision flickered, but she refused to close her eyes. She couldn't afford to. If she did, she knew she would never open them again.

Keep going.

The voice was her only anchor, a lifeline pulling her back from the edge of oblivion. It wrapped around her, filling the hollowness inside her chest, giving her the strength she never knew she possessed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her fingers brushed against something solid. A fallen tree, its bark rough beneath her touch. Gritting her teeth, she used it to push herself upright, her limbs trembling violently. She swayed, her vision spinning, but she remained standing.

She was alive.

Barely.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she lifted her head, her gaze hardening. The pain was still there, the wounds still fresh, but something had changed. Something inside her had snapped. She was no longer the helpless girl who cowered under their cruelty.

No.

She was something more.

Something stronger.

Her lips curled into a grim smile, the taste of blood sharp on her tongue.

They had tried to break her.

But they had only forged her into something unbreakable.

She would not be forgotten. She would not disappear. She would return.

And when she did, they would pay.

---

For the next few hours, Amelia forced herself to move, stumbling through the darkness, her body protesting with every step. She didn't know where she was going, but she followed an instinct buried deep within her.

With each aching movement, the voice in her mind grew louder, guiding her, urging her forward. It was not a comforting voice, nor a gentle one. It was cold, ruthless, and filled with an authority that left no room for weakness.

And she welcomed it.

She had nothing left. No family. No friends. No one to turn to. But this voice—this force—was offering her something she had never had before.

Power.

A shiver ran down her spine, though it had nothing to do with the cold. It was fear, excitement, and something far more dangerous.

Hope.

Her feet dragged against the uneven ground, her body barely holding together. But she refused to collapse. Not yet. Not when she was so close. A new determination burned within her, a hunger for something she couldn't quite name.

Then, just as her strength was about to give out, she saw it.

A cabin, hidden deep within the woods. A single light flickered inside, casting eerie shadows through the cracks in the wooden walls.

She stumbled forward, her knees nearly giving out as she reached the door. With the last of her strength, she raised a bloodied hand and knocked.

Silence.

Her heart pounded. The world swayed. Then, just as she was about to collapse, the door creaked open.

A figure stood in the doorway, bathed in the dim glow of candlelight. Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, sharp and assessing.

A voice, smooth and unreadable, cut through the silence.

"You are not supposed to be here."

Amelia's lips parted, but no words came out. Her vision blurred, her knees buckled, and the last thing she heard before everything went black was the same voice in her mind, whispering one final command.

Sleep, little wolf. Your time is coming.