I never gave it much thought that I would naturally be my own undoing. I had never thought that the seer was right, that my path ultimately led to destruction and ruin. I had no idea that my destiny would lead to so many deaths -- A massive war was my wrongdoing, and I am to blame for what had happened on that horrible day.
But here I was in normal time, chained to a cold wall, my feet barely even touched the ground -- But that was my small stature, I couldn't really do much about that. I just laid there, feeling the effects of no daylight taking affect on my now depleted body. My once vibrant green eyes were replaced with a murky, bland green not that I could even see my own eyes -- No mirrors, unfortunately. But I could move my head down, which really didn't serve any purpose. But I could see my bones as they jutted out from underneath my pale skin.
I breathed unevenly as I laid my head against the cold wall. My mind wandered as I looked of into the distance a tear fell from my lifeless eyes as I pictured my mate -- Otis Jackson, the leader of the wolf clan. The Alpha King to be pedantic. I missed him, it was evident as another lone tear made itself none as it dripped my eyes. I couldn't forget what I had done that day, especially to him, my mate -- My lover.
My head hung low as the tears dribbled from my eyes, pain erupted from my whole body as I bit my lip in frustration. I sagged against myself; it was no use. I couldn't escape no matter how hard I tired. But let's be real, I couldn't escape if I wanted to, the chains were made from none other than hemlock.
Now, you might be thinking to yourselves that hemlock isn't that poisonous, well not to werewolves anyways. But here is where you're wrong and where this story takes a frightening turn. You see, hemlock wasn't meant to be that poisonous, not until they stole it and cultivated its properties. By them, I speak of mermaids.
Evil creatures, that hunt in the night -- Luring poor children to their deaths. It was becoming quite difficult in containing such creatures even for my dear mate, Otis. I remembered every night when he would come into our bedroom smelling of pure sulphur. It always made my blood run cold, just the slight smell of sulfur sent my mind reeling.
Once a mermaid is killed or dies, they emit a dark, hue of sulfur.
But this sulfur wasn't like the sulfur that was made from volcanoes -- No, it was much worse. This sulfur spread round the cities engulfing them inside a green, murky ball. Everyone died that day, they suffocated, couldn't breathe.
