The leader of the pack, the alpha, strode majestically at the forefront. Its size was nothing short of monstrous, matching the stature of a full-grown man but dwarfing the other wolves in both length and girth. Its fur was an impenetrable shade of black, darker than the abyss itself.

The leader’s eyes blazed like smoldering coals, an incandescent crimson that seemed to pierce into one’s very soul. These malevolent orbs locked onto Orion with an unrelenting intensity, as though they harbored a profound and ancient malice.

Among the ranks of this macabre assemblage, several wolves displayed unique characteristics. One had eyes of a piercing, ice-cold blue that gleamed with an unsettling intelligence. Its coat bore subtle streaks of silver, creating an illusion of moonlight dancing upon its fur.

Another member stood apart with emerald green eyes that exuded an eerie, phosphorescent glow. Its coat was adorned with a peculiar pattern, resembling an intricate network of ivy creeping across a tombstone.

Further back in the pack, one wolf bore eyes like molten gold, a fiery intensity that hinted at unrestrained fury. Its fur shimmered with faint hints of auburn, a deceptive mask concealing its true, enigmatic nature.

The remaining wolves in the pack each possessed their unique blend of fur color and eye hue, ranging from deep ambers to smoky grays. Each seemed to carry with them a haunting history, a story whispered through their eyes and etched into their pelts.

But it was the Leader, with its searing red eyes and imposing presence beside Uncle, that commanded their attention and held Orion in a grip of paralyzing fear. In this surreal and terrifying moment, Orion found himself at the mercy of these formidable and enigmatic creatures, their intentions shrouded in the darkness of the night.

A colossal beast, easily towering over the others. Its onyx fur, dark as the abyss, seemed to absorb what little light dared to touch it. Muscles rippled beneath its sleek coat, a testament to the sheer strength it possessed.

The eyes of this imposing creature blazed with a malevolent intensity, a fiery crimson that felt like a direct conduit to the heart of the night itself. It fixed its unwavering gaze on Orion, its snarl revealing rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

Every movement of this massive wolf was deliberate and predatory, exuding an air of dominance and power that was nothing short of terrifying. In the hierarchy of this eerie pack, it was unquestionably the apex predator, the alpha, whose presence alone sent shivers down Orion’s spine.

As the tense moments unfolded, Alfred’s face transformed into a malevolent visage that radiated with bloodlust. His sadistic pleasure was evident in the wicked grin that crept across his features, a reflection of the sheer delight he derived from the impending chaos.

“Times up, Orion. Now fight or die, because the hounds are hungry. Aren’t you my pets?” Alfred’s voice dripped with cruelty as he addressed the monstrous pack.

The leader of the pack, the one with the fiery red eyes, responded with a deep growl that sent shivers down Orion’s spine. To his astonishment, the wolf spoke, its words gravelly and ominous. “Which of you are the most hungry?” Alfred inquired, and the alpha wolf signaled to the second-largest among them.

With a commanding gesture, Alfred ordered the second-largest hound to feast upon Orion. Panic coursed through Orion’s veins as he desperately attempted to maintain his balance, backing away slowly from the advancing beasts. Even Astrid had retreated to the sidelines, her expression a mixture of concern and dread.

The once-thriving crowd of workers, initially drawn to the spectacle, had now largely dispersed. The mere sight of the golden whistle and the ensuing chaos had sent shockwaves of fear through their ranks. Panicked shouts and hurried footsteps echoed through the night as they scattered in all directions, desperate to escape the impending danger.

Orion, his heart pounding in his chest, pushed his body to the limit as he attempted to make a run for it. However, the relentless second-largest wolf closed the distance between them with alarming speed. Its powerful jaws snapped at him, landing a vicious swipe that tore through his back, inflicting a searing jolt of pain. Despite the agony, Orion summoned every ounce of his strength to continue fleeing from the menacing pack, his life depending on each fleeting step.

Astrid couldn’t contain her growing concern any longer as the perilous situation unfolded before her. “Uncle Alfred, this is going too far, isn’t it?” she implored, her voice laced with worry. Orion was doing his best to evade the relentless hound, resorting to climbing a nearby tree in the yard. With each desperate leap from one branch to another, he clung to dear life, his body still wracked with pain despite the slow mending process.

Uncle Alfred’s response was unwavering, his cold demeanor unchanged. “No, my training methods are always highly effective,” he declared, his words steeped in an unsettling determination.

“But he is barely alive, Uncle,” Astrid pressed further, her voice trembling with emotion.

Alfred turned his gaze upon her, his eyes piercing. “And who do you think that falls upon?” he retorted. “I simply said you could throw him if he said the word, not throw him out of the window. This time, I will not take fault.”

Frustration welled up within Astrid, but she eventually conceded, realizing the futility of her argument. “Listen well, Astrid,” Alfred spoke with authority, “to a secret that few know. Great Kings are forged in fire; it is the privilege of pawns to light the way. Once young Orion figures out his place, we will no longer need these training sessions.”

A heavy silence hung in the air as the lead wolf seemed to concur with Alfred’s words, its menacing presence a testament to their shared intent. “And if he dies,” Alfred concluded in a grim tone, “he simply dies...” The words resonated with finality, leaving the night filled with tension and uncertainty.

Fear coursed through Orion’s veins as he desperately clung to the tree, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and every muscle in his body ached from the relentless pursuit of the second-largest wolf. The beast below him bore its fangs menacingly, its hot breath visible in the cold night air as it snarled and scratched at the tree’s trunk, eager to reach its prey.

Amidst the suspenseful tableau, Astrid watched with a mix of anxiety and trepidation, her eyes fixed on Orion’s perilous predicament. The workers who had remained as spectators exchanged nervous glances, the tension in the air palpable.

“This is embarrassing, Borr! Stop playing with your food!” the largest wolf growled scoldingly, its voice echoing with impatience. “He is a newly made Ghoul, devour him...”

With a resolute growl, the second-largest wolf began to climb the tree after Orion, its powerful limbs propelling it upward. Panic surged within Orion as he realized he was running out of options. The relentless pursuit had nearly cornered him, forcing him to climb higher and higher, each branch he reached a temporary sanctuary.

Time compressed and stretched in the throes of Orion’s desperate escape. As he clung to the tree, his frantic mind raced, calculating the height of the tree based on the mansion’s stories. Panic surged with each scenario he envisioned, each potential survival strategy assessed.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

His gaze darted around frantically, hunting for any available sanctuary among the barren branches, but it was futile. His options had dwindled to none, and the relentless wolf below him inched closer, its snarls a relentless reminder of the impending doom.

There was no other way out, no choice left but a desperate leap from the towering tree. Orion’s heart pounded in his chest as he grappled with the terror of free-falling to the ground, the odds of survival slim at best.

With each passing second, the pressure mounted, and his mind churned with panic. He knew that this leap would be a perilous gamble, a last-ditch effort for salvation. A deep breath and a whispered prayer were all he had left as he pushed off the branch, gravity gripping him in its inexorable embrace.

In that pivotal moment, as Orion plunged from the towering tree, everything changed. It was as if the universe itself had conspired to grant him a reprieve, allowing him to defy the merciless pull of gravity. Time, once an unyielding force, now bent to his will, elongating the seconds into an eternity of opportunity.

As he fell, the world transformed around him. Colors intensified, details sharpened, and every facet of reality appeared in exquisite clarity. The mansion’s architecture, bathed in moonlight, displayed its grandeur with a pristine, ethereal glow. Stars in the night sky shone with a brilliance that defied description, each one a radiant testament to the wonder of the cosmos.

Orion moved, and the world danced around him. His body left behind translucent afterimages—a mesmerizing tapestry of white, blue, and gray that trailed in his wake. Each ghostly echo captured his motion, a testament to the perfection of this altered reality.

As the ground rushed to meet him, he marveled at the scene. His perception had transcended the ordinary, revealing a realm where precision and grace reigned supreme. He calculated his landing with unwavering focus, his every movement a symphony of control and intention.

Orion’s feet made contact with the earth, and the world seemed to exhale in collective astonishment. His landing, once fraught with danger, had become a breathtaking marvel that defied the very laws of gravity. A hushed awe hung in the air, as those who had witnessed the impossible stood in bewilderment and profound admiration.

Uncle Alfred, the mastermind behind this trial, was momentarily silenced by the extraordinary display of prowess. Astrid’s eyes widened in disbelief, her fear for Orion replaced by sheer amazement. Even the massive alpha wolf, Borr, paused in its relentless pursuit, its red eyes reflecting a mix of respect and acknowledgment.

Orion’s heart pounded in his chest like a war drum as he sprinted, each stride a testament to his newfound abilities. The enraged wolf, named Borr, was in relentless pursuit, its snarls echoing through the night, a haunting reminder of the danger closing in.

His vision blurred with pain and exhaustion, but the storage house was within reach, a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness. Adrenaline surged through him, mingling with the strange, warming sensation that coursed through his veins. It was as if his very blood had transformed, granting him a surge of otherworldly strength.

The crimson blood from his clawed back dripped in his wake, a macabre trail marking his desperate flight. Orion was acutely aware of his limits—hunger gnawed at him, fatigue weighed heavy on his limbs, and exhaustion threatened to overtake him. Yet, the relentless pursuit of Borr left him with no choice but to press on.

Orion’s thoughts raced alongside his pounding heart as he sprinted toward the looming brick storage house. His mind struggled to rationalize the bizarre and terrifying events unfolding around him.There has to be a logical explanation for all of this,he reasoned, though it did little to quell his fear.

As he drew nearer to the storage house, the commotion had not gone unnoticed. Several guards, including the taunting Rightfang, spilled out from the shadows, eager to witness the unfolding spectacle.

“Uncle Alfred is about to feed the newbie to his pets!” Rightfang’s mocking declaration only added to Orion’s anxiety. The derisive encouragement to “throw a punch” was met with an internal scoff. Orion knew that facing a monstrous wolf with his bare fists was a futile endeavor.

Orion stumbled toward the looming brick structure, his eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and hope as he reached his destination. The building, more akin to a factory upon closer inspection, was a fortress in itself, revealing layers of security that sent shivers down his spine.

The two-story brick structure possessed an imposing presence, but its true defenses lay in the massive iron-reinforced garage doors that guarded its entrance. Upon closer examination, these gates appeared more like fortifications, designed to withstand even the most relentless assault.

Orion took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the structure before him. “Perfect,” he murmured, recognizing the potential refuge offered by the heavily fortified building.

However, his moment of respite was short-lived as Rightfang, who had followed him to the storage house, began to speak with a sinister edge in his tone. The once-friendly demeanor had evaporated, replaced by a dark warning about Lady Agnieszka’s private storehouse.

“You ain’t running in there, that’s Lady Agnieszka’s private storehouse,” Rightfang cautioned, his voice dripping with malice. “I advise you not to try to go in there to hide, even if your life depended on it. I would have to kill you for even attempting to. Even getting this close without permission is forbidden.”

Rightfang’s ominous words hung heavily in the air. Despite his harsh warnings, a glimmer of encouragement slipped through his demeanor. “But seeing as you may die in the next 20 seconds, I think I can let this time pass,” he remarked with a twisted sense of humor. “But for what it’s worth, Newbie... I don’t want to see you die.”

However, Rightfang’s sudden shift in tone was not without its ulterior motives. “But I am taking bets,” he declared, revealing his opportunistic nature. “I got 1000 on the newbie goes down. Who matches me?”

The atmosphere was charged with tension as the guards’ cheerful banter came to an abrupt halt, replaced by an eerie silence that hung heavily in the air. All eyes were fixed on the menacing figure of Borr, the massive wolf whose snarls reverberated through the night.

Astrid, Alfred, and even the Alpha wolf had arrived to witness the climactic confrontation. The Alpha, bearing the weight of authority, voiced his disapproval at Borr’s failure. “Borr, you have made a mockery of yourself. You should be faster than this Ghoul, he is a newborn!” The words were harsh and reprimanding, causing Borr to growl in frustration at the thought of being outmatched by a mere newcomer.

With Orion’s exhaustion laid bare for all to see, Borr’s confidence grew. His growls deepened, and he licked his lips in anticipation. “No more running, nothing left in you,” Borr rumbled ominously, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Indeed, Orion was drained, his once-potent reservoir of energy now reduced to a mere spark. He stood before the relentless wolf, battered and weary, with nowhere left to flee. The final confrontation loomed, and the outcome hung in the balance, a grim uncertainty that gripped the onlookers with bated breath.

Desperation clung to Orion like a suffocating shroud as he raised his hands in surrender, his voice quivering with fear. “Alfred, call this off,” he screamed, his eyes darting between the imposing wolf before him and the unyielding figure of Alfred. “I believe, man, I’ll play by the rules. Just call this thing off.”

Orion’s movements were slow and calculated, inching closer to the left, step by cautious step. Each stride seemed unalarming, each plea for mercy a carefully crafted act. “I give up, okay... Please... Don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice laced with a vulnerability that seemed genuine.

Astrid couldn’t help but worry as she watched the unfolding scene. Her gaze shifted from Orion to Alfred, her concern evident. “I think he’s had enough, Uncle Alfred,” she implored, her voice tinged with unease.

Alfred, however, remained unyielding, his gaze fixed upon Orion. He sensed that something was amiss, that this sudden submission was far from ordinary. Yet, he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he offered a chilling response. “It would be such a shame to ruin such an expensive pawn, regardless of how weak,” he mused, his words laced with a cold detachment.

Alfred’s response carried an accusatory edge as he commented on the effectiveness of the lesson. “I believe he has learned his lesson and seen enough of our world to allow him to accept his place in it,” he stated in a nonchalant tone, a subtle implication in his words that seemed directed at Astrid. “But some lessons can only be learned through pain, and I believe one scar on his back will not be enough to teach him the lesson I am trying to teach, Lady Astrid.”

His tone grew darker as he continued, his attention firmly fixed on Astrid. “He is a Pawn, the weakest I have seen to be so expensive,” Alfred muttered, his words laden with a hint of disapproval, before turning his attention back to Orion.

Meanwhile, Borr took a few steps closer to Orion, the sinister grin never leaving his snarling visage. “Do you hear them? I can...” the wolf taunted, motioning towards Alfred and the others. “They said I can hurt you, and nothing will be done. This is a rare treat to have a newborn Ghoul. You all taste so delicious.”