Furry Humans | ✓

41.

🚫️ Descriptive Content 16+ 🚫
I will not be holding back on words and all, so you have been warned!
____________

↠C h a p t e r   F o r t y-O n e↞
FOR WHAT DEATH BRINGS

❝When my last breath has been taken, I hope that I will have lived and stood for what I believed in.❞

♦ ° ♦ ° ♦

ABIGAIL

I don't know how long we've been here, the moon appears and disappears beyond the clouds, completing a whole night— nights that I have lost count of. I was still unsure of what they need from me, us. My gaze flickers over to Mom's pale form leaning against the molded grey wall, each day the same man would come inside with the same four syringes and extract blood from our veins for unknown reasons.

I've come used to the flames that would consume every inch of my body, with no strength, I was barely able to move without using up most of my energy. They left the collar off knowing I wouldn't be able to defend myself or try to escape, it was either in the morning or evening that they would bring us something to eat, something small so we wouldn't have too much strength. It was always once a day; keeping our strength at a minimum.

I don't eat much as I give it all to Mom, she needs more than I do since she's eating for two; no matter how many times I give her my food. . . she's still becoming paler.

"Mom?" I call out, she doesn't stir from her sleep, "Mom."

Her fingers twitch and her eyes flutter open halfway, I watch her gaze shift around the room than to me.

"Yes, sweetie?" her voice was hoarse and dry. She cleared her throat, pushing herself to sit up straighter.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, doing the same, my back resting against the hard wall.

Her shoulders lift and then fall while rolling her head to the side. "I'm fine."

Her state didn't define the word 'fine', the sweat on her forehead and neck made hair stick to her in clumps and the shudders that racked her body was telling me the jacket she wore wasn't doing anything, my worry only increased for not only her health but also the one in her womb. A distant sound of a door shutting echoed in the small dungeon, booted footfalls growing closer and I couldn't help the way my heart sped up in pace and drummed against my ribcage, fearing the man was back to inject me with silver. It didn't take long before his shadow illuminated on the ground.

He stops in front of the cell with two metal plates that held the same amount of food and servings, two pieces of bread and a slice of meat, opening the door the tossed the plates on the ground not once caring that pieces of food flew to the grim ground as he stepped back outside the cell and locked the gate.

"Eat up," he said gruffly before walking away, taking his foul smell with him.

I remain still and wait for the sound of his footsteps to fade away before I make a move. Struggling to my hands and knees, I crawl across the room and over to the trays with small steps and push them over towards Mom's side, leaning myself against the wall beside her: my arm brushing against her's as I draw both trays around and in front of me while grabbing a piece of bread and handing it to Mom.

She shakes her head, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I'm not hungry," she whispers.

I urge the bread toward her mouth, "I don't care. Please eat, not only for you but for my brother or sister."