CHAPTER 4

Pips night in the cellar was the bleakest hours of his life. His fingers throbbed enough to keep him awake for most of the night. If it weren't for the light streaming under the door at the top of the stairs, the darkness might have driven him mad.

He curled up against the corner of the room, shivering, and trying not to move his broken fingers.

Pip thought about his family and how worried they would be. He could picture his uncle sitting on the porch with a torch and his aunt yelling his name all through the night. They might have called the police, though Pip doubted they would check the institute.

After what felt like hours and hours and hours, Pip sat up and dared to stretch. He could barely see anything around him. The hard-concrete floor wasn't difficult to feel, reminding him of the grubby dungeons he was in.

He blinked in the darkness, seeing only the shapes of bars and the sharp stairs leading to a door that had been closed for hours. Pip guessed he had been in the cellar for more than seven hours. He wondered when the sun would rise, or whether he had missed it, or whether he would ever see the sunrise again.

He didn't have to think for long to find out.

Soon after he sat up, a key rummaged in the lock.

Pip pressed his back to the wall when light flooded the cellar, and a tall figure drifted silently down the stairs. Pip squinted in the light until he saw a familiar face. A woman with half a shaved head, dreadlocks resting neatly on one side, and curious eyes staring at Pip from the other side of the bars.

"Human," she said like she wasn't one of them, and shoved another key in the rusty lock. "It's time for you to go home."

Relief swamped Pip, and he felt warm tears prick the sides of his eyes. He blinked them away and cautiously stood up. He was thirsty, hungry, and bursting for the toilet. Though Pip didn't dare speak a word, not after what happened to his poor fingers.

He hesitated in the corner as the woman pulled the bar door back and gave him room to pass.

"Come," she said, "I'll take you to the gates."

Still, Pip paused. He feared that as soon as he was close, she would hurt him too.

The woman could tell he was still terrified as he clutched his injured hand. "My name's Francis," she said with a smile. "What's yours?"

Her smile was sincere, unlike Jordan's demonic grin. "I-I'm Pip," he whispered.

"Pip," Francis repeated, nodding slowly. "It suits you... you know, because you're small."

Pip took a little step closer and Francis stepped further out of the way.

"I'm sorry that Jordan did that to you. You should have been sent home yesterday. Will you phone the police and report us?"

Pip didn't expect her to ask. "No," he said, quickly shaking his head. He had to please her. If he angered anyone from the institute, Pip could say goodbye to the rest of his fingers.

Eventually, he gave himself enough courage to follow her up the stairs and back through the room full of red interior and board-games.

The sky outside was a display of oranges and pinks from the early morning sun. The air was crisp on Pip's skin and being outside let him hope for freedom. He didn't know when he would see the sun again. Being in the cellar filled him with horrible thoughts about the fate of his future.

Francis escorted him around the side of the building, towards the front. The vast old building

went on and on and on. Guards now stood on the outside of every door they passed. Their eyes followed Pip with dead stares.

"So, why did you break in last night?" Francis asked, kicking her boots against the odd stone they passed.

"I was running from people," Pip spoke quietly, as always.

"Who?"

Pip stared down at the stones as they walked.

"People I used to know."

"You must have been pretty desperate to climb into here. I watched the CCTV footage. You gave that one guy a good kick in the head."

Pip eyed Francis who was eyeing him with a smirk.

He relaxed more in her company. The institute felt less terrifying basked in daylight.

After walking down a long road for a few minutes, they reached a tall, thick gate, paroled by armed guards. His stomach churned when the guards stood up straight, gripped their weapons, and scowled at him.

He tried not to hide behind Francis, though she was tall and had strong shoulders. He had an odd

feeling that she would do him no harm. Pip was painfully trusting to those who were kind to him.

Before Francis could ask for the guards to let him free, the gate buzzed and very slowly glided to the left.

"Do you know how to get home from here?" Francis asked. "I can escort you back if you're unsure?"

"I-I think I know the way. Is it west to Crescent Town from here?" Pip asked, standing next to Francis, watching the gate slide along.

"Yes. If you follow the road around and-"

As Francis talked, the gate moved past Pip, revealing a tall person on the other side.

A man stood only a few metres away. Pip looked up and fell deep into his glaring brown eyes. He knew those eyes, but they weren't warm.

The man held their stare like last time, and Francis stopped talking immediately. She bowed her head, mumbling, "Alpha, good morning."

Like yesterday, Pip found it hard to look away. He couldn't blink. The man didn't look away either like he wasn't used to being challenged with stares. Pip was like a bug in his presence and he felt that way too.

Francis noticed Pip looking and dropped hands on his shoulders. Pip jumped and snapped out of his trance.

"I was just escorting-"

The man walked away without hearing her finish.

Francis pursed her lips, and Pip's eyes dared to follow him. Who they called their Alpha was a good couple of inches higher than everyone around him.

His strides were long and slow, yet he moved at a pace that Pip would have to jog to maintain.

The man had bulk to him. Muscles moved under his t-shirt and strained on his legs with every step.

The air around him was thick. Pip could almost see the bubble of dominance oozing from him in every direction.

Pip would have gazed at the back of his head until the man was too far away, but Francis squeezed his shoulders.

"Don't stare," she whispered, anxiously glancing over her shoulder, making sure the Alpha wasn't running back to scoop out the human's eyes. "Go home now. I hope we don't catch you around here again, Pip. For your own good." Francis gave him a little shove.

The gate started closing as soon as he was out of the grounds. Pip turned to watch it close, and

Francis was already hurrying back towards the institute. The man with those intense brown eyes was a speck in the distance as the last bit of the gate shut.

Pip's fingers throbbed in the cold. Good riddance, he thought and turned his back to the building.

Trees crowded around him, though there was nothing more beautiful than the morning sun streaming through the thick trunks. To Pip, the woods had stages: magical in the morning, heavy in the afternoon, and spooky in the night.

As he walked down the path, listening to the birds, it quickly dawned on Pip that he had spent a full night in the institute for the elite and lived to tell the tale.

He wondered how many people could say that. Pip looked down to his bruised and swollen fingers. He would have smiled if he hadn't suffered while in the building. He doubted people would believe his tale anyway. Spreading a story about the institute was a foolish idea. Jordan would track him down and shut him up for good.

Pip shivered at the thought and sprinted in the direction of his home. He started work soon.