WARNING!!!! 🚧 🚧 ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ READ THE TAGS AS THEY ARE THE ONLY WARNING YOU'LL GET!!!!
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Adam Witts.
A nineteen-year-old boy, who suffers from clinical sex addict...
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He stole my truck, ran off. Course I found my truck right away, it was parked at the airport. I knew he was gone, but where?
It's been three weeks, and I'm honestly a fuckin mess. Visions of Adam finding me every night, hearing his laugh, remembering his smile.
And don't get me started on the sex, oh my goddess the sex. I haven't had a decent orgasm since he left. I haven't gone to the tent to buy any more potential mates.
I'm done with that, I don't have a mate. Though I don't buy potential mates, I had purchased Mimics.
I kept the things locked in the dungeons, the same dungeon that still held small traces of Adam's scent.
Mimics are creatures created from demonic magic, they don't have souls, no emotions, no physical sensations.
The creatures are so desperate to feel, that they change form, making themselves into whoever their owner desires most.
Even then they can only experience pain, it's the only physical sensation they can achieve.
I admit I didn't originally buy a Mimic to cause it pain, but I found myself taking my frustrations out on the living sex dolls.
My day's had at one time been filled with drills, bills and fuckin. Adam came in and he gave me some kind of hope. A hope for love.
Then he took that hope away, left me with that deep emptiness that I had forgotten.
Only this time it was stronger, it hurt a lot worse... Gore kept telling me I was stupid, hurting over a human who wasn't our mate. Telling me I was an idiot for thinking that Adam gave a damn about me.
{ If he cared he would have stayed, instead he abandoned us. Put him out of your mind } Those were his words, yet I could feel his emptiness.
Some days I didn't have sex with the Mimic, I just slept with it, holding Adam's copy, trying to fill the hole in me, but it didn't...
Drinking helped though.
Sitting in my office, I poured myself another shot of Blue Gin, an alcoholic beverage made for and by werewolves.
I sat there for hours, doing nothing but thinking about Adam, and hating myself for not being strong enough to admit I wanted him. I wanted the human who wasn't my mate.
I'd fallen for him, and my cowardice lost him. Constantly reminding him of his job, calling him a whore...
By nine at night I was drunk, stumbling out of my office, out of the pack house, I made my way across my territory and to the dungeons.
Down inside the dungeons, I found the creature, waiting for me on its knee's. Its skin was the color of clean bones, dull, pale and lifeless.
It had a body, but no nipples or belly button. There wasn't a hair on the creature, except on its head.
That hair was inky black and flowed straight down the things back. It looked up at me as I came into the room's view.
The eyes were shallow slit, slits of pure empty. Eyes darker than night, far darker than a wolf's. Drunkenly I marched over, watching as it's skin sort of vibrated.
By the time I stood above it, it had taken Adam's form. "Stand up," I demanded, hearing myself slurring.
"You know what to do," I said, going over to the tall-backed chair and having a seat. The room was different with Adam gone, I'd removed the bed and the other necessities. Mimics don't need food, sleep or water.
Adam's mimic made its way to me, crawling the entire time. Giving me the same looks like the true Adam.
When he reached me, his hands felt the same, yet I knew the truth. I watched the mimic pull my cock out, watched it take me into Adam's mouth
The alcohol slowly coursing through my system helped fuel my imagination, it made it seem real.
"Why'd you leave me, baby?" I asked, my head falling back on the neck of the chair.
The creature didn't answer my question, I believe that's what set me off. I remember fading slightly, my mind merging perfectly with Gore's.
"Why!? " We shouted, grabbing the mimic by Adam's hair and yanking its neck up. I looked into those familiar eyes, and my heart hurt, which only made me angrier.
"Fuck you." Gore and I growled, shoving the creature away from us. The mimic kneeled, keeping its eyes on the ground. Something inside me just went off.
I remember bits and pieces after that, I remember screaming at the thing, saying the things I wanted to be able to say to Adam. I remember getting madder and angrier, and sad.
Flashes of my crying and screaming, hitting the mimic, blaming Adam for my broken emotional walls.
I don't remember much of that night, just flashes, but I do remember the next morning. Waking up next to a badly beaten mimic.
It was still using Adam's form, I looked over the scratches, welts, and bruises. There was so many littering Adam's fake body, but what stood out the most were the twenty some odd bite marks.
The creature was living, I could see it breathing. looking at the marks, I imagined the screams of agony that must have left the thing's lips.
Instantly guilt set in, I left, going back to the pack house... and the cycle continued.
It became a pattern, get drunk, fuck or beat the mimic, wake up feeling like shit, then do it all over again, sad to say the first mimic didn't survive another week.
I know it makes me a monster, but it helped, for a while.
Then it didn't, I got tired of buying mimics and using them to somehow ease my anger. Then my parents came home, and they had no fuckin boundaries.
My mom kept asking me why I was drinking, my pop's was riding my ass like I hadn't been running the pack since I was twenty years old.
Shit hit the fan maybe a month after Adam left, my drinking was at its peak, I didn't run drills, I didn't leave my room, Shawn was taking care of everything pack related, and I was grateful.
The day I left the pack house, I was heavily drunk. My dad was ranting about me not takin my job serious. I just snapped, flipped my entire desk.
"Leave me alone, now!" I shouted, picking up a chair and throwing it, watching it smash into the wall next to the old man's head.
"Watch it pup!" He snapped back, storming off. I watched him go before another outburst took over. I started smashing and crashing shit, I broke my window, put a few holes in the walls.
I could hear my pack members, all of them living their happy little lives. I was mad at them for something that wasn't their fault, I knew I had to get away from them, otherwise, I'd seriously hurt someone.
So I packed a few bags, one filled with Blue Gin and Black Wolf. Then I left, headed down the road to the South of my territory. Had a small cabin there, and that's where I decided to stay.
