It was so quiet. So unnatural. So eerie.

As I walked through the row of houses, my head turned from right to left and back again, furiously scanning for a familiar face. All the lights were out; the houses were lacking the usual flicker from a lit candle inside.

Then I spotted, over the hay rooftops of the houses, the tint of white lights in a distance and my footsteps quickened towards the village centre. It was the place where we usually held important meetings or when the chief had an important announcement to make. As I got closer to the light, I could hear the chatter of the crowd murmuring unhappily.

I burst into view of the village centre and came face to face with all the villagers would had gathered there, for a reason completely lost to me. What was going on? The conversation around me was too fast for my dazzled mind to catch up.

"He's here," a woman's voice hissed. "Go!"

She gave me a hard shove on my shoulder that I nearly lost balance.

Blood drained from my face. I clenched fists at my sides, walking with stiff, small steps up towards the front. The crowd separated right down the middle and as I walked down the path, more hard shoves followed, propelling me towards the podium that waited at the end of the village centre. My eyes narrowed in on the two figures standing on the stage and saw the village chief and my butcher friend.

This couldn’t be so bad right?

Wrong.

The moment I arrived in front of the podium, someone kicked my knees from the back, forcing me to kneel before the podium. The kick aggravated my injured thigh that I let out a soft groan involuntarily.

“Lu. Han.” The village chief’s voice boomed across the crowded village centre. There was something about the way he emphasized every syllabus of my name. It was accusing and somewhat condemning. But for a moment, I saw under his reproachful gaze, a pained expression flashed across his face. There was faint recognition there. I was the curious boy who asked him about the wolves.

And then, almost immediately, his eyes hardened again and he read off a scroll, “You are hereby charged with trespassing of the fence on multiple occasions. You are sentenced to twenty of the whip and two weeks in the isolation cabin. You are not entitled to any food or visitations from anyone in the two weeks.”

Although I was stunned, there was also sadness. This was the place I called home, the people I called my neighbors. I was missing for five days and yet there wasn’t an ounce of concern or worry for my well-being. All they cared about was their damned fence.

“As for conspiring with wolves…”

My eyes widened in shock. The sadness disappeared altogether and was replaced with a horrid dread that gripped my heart in a tight squeeze.

“Since there is insufficient evidence to charge you with this crime, you are hereby issued a warning and an additional five of the whip as a reminder to you that the rules and boundary of this village should be adhered to.”

The wolves.

How?

No one knew.

No, someone did.

Instantly my gaze flew to the butcher who was standing beside the village chief.

I could hardly stand to meet his eyes. His beady mustardseed eyes. They were an ocean of betrayal. I stared at him, searching for the smallest sign that he didn't mean it, he didn’t do it. That spark of hope went out in a whiff, along with any trust I had for him.

Revulsion constricted my throat.

Then, he drew back his lips in a sinister smile.

That cut it. I leaped forward and planted a fist square in the man's mouth. He toppled like felled timber, landed flat on his back and then just lay there for a moment, staring blankly at the sky.

Someone grabbed me by the hair and jerked me backwards. My scalp felt on fire. Strong arms clammed around my skinny ones. Tears were blinding me as I d frantically to try to break free. But there was no way a ten year old boy like me would win a battle of strength with two grown up men.

The butcher regained his senses and rolled to his feet. Spitting blood and dirt, he wiped the blood off his tore lip and dusted his filthy apron wildly, clearly beside himself with rage. He was about to charge towards me with his arm raised and ready to hit me when the village chief lifted a hand to halt him. When he glared at me, I just glared right back, my eyes shimmering like quicksilver in the moonlight with rebellious determination. My chin came up a notch and I could see that he was just a hair away from screaming in rage. The corners of my lips lifted slightly and tauntingly as I continued to glare at him.

“We shall now commence with the whipping. Twenty-five .”

Suddenly all my earlier fight gave way to fear. The butcher was now smiling evilly as he gloated at the thought of my punishment. Up till now, I still do not understand why. Why had he given away my secret? Why did he betray my confidence? Why did he do it? What did he stand to gain?

The sight of the whip being brought out was enough to make my hands tremble.

And the worst part?

The butcher stepped forward when the village chief called for the administrator of the whipping.

The two men who were holding me down were now tying my hands to a pole, leaving me no way to run or shun away from the whip. Walking towards me in a menacing and disturbingly slow pace, he grinned creepily as he swung the whip to hit the ground. The crackling sound resounded loud and clear through the village centre and I heard some gasps of surprise behind me from the crowd. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably now.

“Not so brave now, huh, boy,” He taunted. His voice, his face, his everything made me so sick in the stomach. He was still grinning as he raised his hand to strike me with the whip. I slammed my eyes shut and braced myself.

The first hit made my entire body jump. I let out a high-pitched scream as the whip came in contact with my right shoulder and right cheek. Tears spilled out of my closed eyes. The pain was instant ad blinding. I felt blood trickling down my right cheek and tasted the metallic taste when it reached my mouth.

The second hit was just as painful, if not more, than the last. I let out yet another shriek as lights exploded behind my closed eye lids. This time the whip hit me on my back and shoulder. I shrunk closer and closer to the pole, trying so desperately to escape from the whip but knowing very well that it was futile.

Just two and the pain was already so unbearable that I wished that I would just black out so that I could escape the pain and the reality. I hoped to die. I hoped to disappear. I leaned into the pole until my entire chest was pressed flat against the vertical plank of wood. I braced myself the third hit, praying that this would be the one that knocked me out.

But the third never came.

Instead of the cracking of the whip, I heard a scream.

Not from my mouth.

But from the butcher.

My eyes flew open.

A low, feral growl.

A flash of silver in front of me.

More screams from the crowd.

Adrenaline coursed through me, wiping all concerns of the day from my mind as I focused on the immediate sight unfolding before me.

The silver wolf was standing in front of me. His pink lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth bared in defensive hatred as it circled around me. I saw the butcher on the ground clutching his hand covered with blood. The crowd was backing away from the wolf and me.

A ray of hope felt my hope but it was quickly overshadowed by my fear for my wolf. The village didn’t like wolves. The village chief’s past words about mouths repeated over and over in my mind. A merciless killer. A horrible monster.

Then, the men of the village advanced towards us with ropes in their hands.

Including my own father.

Rage snapped through my body like jolts of electricity but soon panic bubbled into my throat. Anger had temporarily blocked out the nervousness but now the anxiety rose up again.

“Run! GO!” I screamed at the wolf, so desperate and yet so helpless. “RUN! PLEASE! JUST GO!”

The wolf neither ran nor backed away. Instead he moved to put his body between me and the men, standing his ground and snarling ferociously. The first few roped strung at him missed but he could only dodge so many.

A strangled cry came from my throat and my muscles began to move. I stood up and struggled desperately against the pole. A sound escaped me. A same combination of a gasp and a groan that came from being submerged in water, deprived of oxygen to the point of pain.

Within minutes, they had the wolf locked down with a dozen of ropes wrapped around his limbs and neck. As the man pulled the ropes taut, the butcher appeared with a long craving knife and without any hesitation or humanity, shoved the knife into the wolf’s body.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I screamed as red seeped out to stain his beautiful silver wolf. He gave a whimper, turned his head to look at me before collapsing to the ground.

My knees buckled and slid down the pole on to my knees. The strangling sense of subjugation rose like bile in my throat. Familiar. Degrading. I felt the cold sweat break out on my chest, the sense of helplessness.

The last time I was hit by something very hard, it was a cougar pouncing on me. The impact threw me to the ground and knocked every wisp of air from my lungs. But this. This was much worse. I sat on the ground struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. Trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally detached from the whole world.

My wolf.

My silver wolf.