Step, step, swing. Step, step, swing.

It was repetition that got me through the night. Or was it day now? There were no windows in the shed. It could have been midnight or daylight. Or the sun could have fallen from the sky and I wouldn't have known any better. And a part of me was comforted with the fact that, for now, the world only consisted of me in this tiny shed. So, I just shuffled right until my arms ached from the pressure. Then I turned my feet to the left and moved back to where I was. I found out that if I focused on the subtle movements of my feet, I didn't think about other things.

Like the violent rumblings of my stomach and how long ago I had eaten.

Like wolf-drain which had either already taken effect or was going to be doing so shortly.

Like the fact that I had two very angry werewolf royals that were going to do anything to get even a lick out of information from me.

Like wondering if dehydration would take me first or something else.

Between my stomach, my throbbing fingers, my quivering eyelids, and the anxiety gripping me, I doubted it would take very long at all now.

Or maybe they had already cracked the phone. Maybe they didn't even need me at all anymore and I would be left here to rot, forgotten.

I realized I had stopped my shuffling. And because of that, paranoia had come ripping for me. Step, step, swing. My legs faltered a little bit. The exhaustion was back. I adjusted my routine, adding an additional step. The strain on my arms and shoulders was instant. I gritted my teeth, letting my body lean into it a little more because, at this point, pain was the only thing keeping me awake. I barely slept a wink the night before I left and I spent the entire day up in that tree. I must have been hitting the thirty-six-hour mark now, if not farther.

How long could the human body last without sleep anyway? And this was how bad I felt already, what was coming for me? I shuffled to the other side and leaned hard there until my mind was filled with nothing but the sensation of pain rippling through me.

For a moment, I couldn't distinguish if the groan came from my mouth or somewhere else, until I was blinded by light spilling into the shed. I instantly recoiled, jamming my eyes shut until I heard the door just again and the buzz of the single light bulb. When my eyes parted again, I was grateful for the soft yellow lighting, but not so grateful for the woman before me or the man behind her.

Keiko sat perched on her beloved paint can, her painted fingernails gently tearing apart some flaky pastry.

"Good afternoon, sleep well?" she asked, popping some of that buttery goodness in her mouth. When I said nothing, she twisted her shoulders to the man who followed her like a shadow. "She's still not feeling talkative today, Noah. Do you think we should give her a snack, maybe perk her up a little bit?"

"Is she even worthy of your chef's cooking?" Noah asked.

Keiko pretended to ponder this, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her chin. "No, I suppose not. Oh well, we'll just leave it here for the mice," she said. then, she tossed the beautiful strudel behind her.

I couldn't control my reaction. I felt like a dog chasing a tennis ball. She threw that delicacy into a dark corner and my whole body lurched after it, heaving forward. My stomach was no longer growling, it was snarling knowing that food was so close. I didn't even care about the ache in my arms and shoulders as I strained hard against the ropes, wishing beyond hope that they would just break and release me.

Noah lunged in front of Keiko the instant I moved. And with my body all twisted and weak, I still found it in myself to grin at the way he stood in front of her. he was like a god damn pitbull.

"Down boy," I taunted, but my tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. "What could a little human like me do anyway?"

"Too much," Noah snapped back.

I let out a laugh that was supposed to be sarcastic, but it came out of my mouth a little manic. I was losing it. I didn't know if it was the hunger, the exhaustion, or wolf-drain, but something was sucking the sanity out of me.

Finally, I slumped back, taking the strain off my shoulders.

"Are you sure you don't just want to kill her? We could take her out back, there would be no mess to clean up afterwards."

"Come on Noah, if anyone wants her dead, it's me. unfortunately, I still think she's keeping secrets and I want them more than I want her dead."

"I don't know how valuable any information she could give us now would be. I think she's slipping. She could lie to us just to get out of it at this point. Maybe we didn't make the right judgement call with this."

"Well, I am fairly new to this whole torture thing," Keiko admitted. Her dainty shoulder shrugged like she was talking about an art class she attended. "Maybe we could try something else. What do you think complete isolation would do to a human?"

"I know what it can do to werewolves, so I'm almost afraid to wonder."

Christ, I could almost feel those invisible mice crawling over me again. I could not be left alone with just my mind again. Not again. And not for longer. I felt my mouth drop open. I wondered if I was going to beg them to spare me.

It was then that the door opened again. This time, I didn't have to flinch away from the blinding light. But what I saw made me believe that I had entirely succumbed to wolf-drain.

It couldn't be true. My eyes must be deceiving me.

Dark hair.

Broad shoulders.

Silver eyes.

Ryder.

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What was ruined because it became popular?