Alpha's Desertion

ADARA'S POV

I was sitting on my bed with a book about the mythical creatures when my eyelid felt heavy and I couldn't help but slip into the realm of dreams, a place where memories intermingled with imagination. Closing my eyes, a vivid recollection of my childhood unfolded.

DREAM

The scene was our family home, adorned with warmth and laughter. I could hear the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations as I sat at the dining table with my parents.

The air was filled with the aroma of a home-cooked meal, and the flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls. My parents, radiant with love and affection, exchanged smiles as they shared stories from their day. It was a tableau of familial bliss, frozen in time.

Suddenly, the tranquility shattered. A low growl echoed through the air, sending shivers down my spine. The room darkened as ominous shadows slinked across the walls. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness, revealing the presence of menacing wolves that had materialized within the comforting walls of our home.

My parents stiffened, their expressions shifting from joy to concern. The wolves circled, their eyes fixed on our family with an eerie intensity.

My father, a pillar of strength, stood up, protective instincts kicking in. "Adara, go! Run as far as you can! Don't look back!" he pleaded, urgency tainting his voice.

I felt a cold sweat breaking out as fear paralyzed me. The wolves, with their long teeth glistening in the dim light, growled menacingly, their eyes locked onto my parents. "Why are they here? What do they want?" I thought, my mind a whirlwind of confusion.

My mother, though frightened, spoke calmly, "Adara, sweetheart, listen to your father. Run, and don't stop. We love you." Tears welled in her eyes as the wolves closed in. I hesitated, the weight of fear holding me rooted to the spot.

With tears streaming down my face, I witnessed my mother, blood flowing from the side of her mouth, staggered forward. Despite the pain, she uttered words that resonated with both strength and sorrow. "Don't be scared, my dear princess. Avenge your parents," she implored before succumbing to the relentless assault.

The room erupted into chaos as the wolves lunged at my parents. There were desperate pleas, the clash of jaws, and agonized cries. My father, now in the clutches of a wolf, managed to shout one last command, "Go, Adara! Live!"

My father, a bastion of strength, rose to shield our family. "Run, my dear! Save yourself!" he implored, his voice teetering between desperation and determination. Shocked and frozen in place, I could only watch in horror as the wolves launched a ferocious assault on my parents.

Amidst the chaos, my father confronted the beasts, demanding answers that remained elusive. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?" he questioned, the wolves responding only with predatory snarls. The dream became a symphony of terror, the unanswered queries lingering like a dark cloud.

As the wolves overpowered my parents, my father, with a mix of disbelief and urgency, yelled, "Tell me who you are!" The wolves, shrouded in sinister silence, spared no words, their actions speaking louder than any response. The dream descended into a heart-wrenching tableau of brutality.

With tears streaming down my face, I finally found the strength to break free from my stupor. I ran the echoes of my parents' voices and the growls of the wolves haunting my every step.

The dream, a nightmarish tapestry of loss and unanswered questions lingered in my subconscious.

DREAM END

I awoke with a heavy heart, haunted by the specter of a past that demanded resolution, vowing to uncover the truth behind the red-eyed wolves and fulfill the silent mandate left by my fallen parents.

I quickly went inside the washroom and splashed some cold water on my face. It was the dream of the night when I became an orphan, a parentless child who wanted nothing more than to avenge my parents' killer.

I wore my sneakers and moved out of the house where I found my uncle sitting on the dining table with a newspaper. He looked up at me worriedly and asked, "Same dream?"

I just nodded my head in agreement and took an apple before going out of the house.

I pedaled my bicycle along the narrow trail, the rhythmic creaking of the wheels resonating through the quiet forest. The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, dappling the path with patches of warm golden light.

As I approached the familiar clearing, a mixture of excitement and trepidation filled me, memories of the past flooding my mind.

The old tree house stood nestled among the towering trees, its wooden planks weathered by years of exposure to the elements.

With a confident climb, I ascended the rickety ladder and entered the small haven that held a world of mystery and secrets. The air inside was filled with the earthy scent of aged wood, and the sunlight filtered through the leaves outside casting a gentle glow.

In the corner of the tree house, a faded mattress lay surrounded by a collection of worn-out pillows. I settled myself on the mattress, a flood of nostalgia washing over me.

I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the sanctuary of my childhood retreat. My small hands reached into the hidden compartment beneath the mattress, retrieving a bundle of papers wrapped in a tattered ribbon.

Carefully, I unfolded the papers, revealing a series of sketches and drawings. The images depicted strange, otherworldly creatures with long limbs and indistinct features. My brow furrowed as I studied them, the memories of the fateful night when those creatures attacked my parents resurfacing in my mind.

I traced the lines with my finger, the pencil strokes telling a story I was too young to fully comprehend at the time. The creatures' faces remained blurry in my sketches, a testament to the haziness of my childhood recollections. Yet, the urgency to understand the events that unfolded that night spurred me to revisit these drawings.

With a determined gaze, I spread the sketches across the mattress, arranging them in a sequence that hinted at a narrative. The rustling leaves outside and the distant chirping of birds accompanied me as I immersed myself in the details of each drawing, trying to unlock the secrets concealed within the lines and shadows.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows in the tree house, my thoughts delved deeper into the mystery. I couldn't shake the feeling that these sketches held the key to understanding the creatures that changed the course of my life. With renewed purpose, I continued my investigation, determined to unravel the enigma that had haunted me for so long.