we long for fairytales,

in a world full of nightmares.

There is a new craze that has overtaken me.

A new desperation.

No longer is it the effort to finalize the King's wishes and do as he commands.

Now it is different.

Now I am working, with little sleep and food, for a new reason.

A new purpose.

To save them.

Jasmine.

Her face haunts me- the thin scratches on her arms, the dirt and grime upon her hair and features.

Her screams.

I cry sometimes while I work.

Alone in that room.

I have to make sure no tears spill onto the mixtures, so they don't interfere with the solution.

I don't know how much time goes by.

Judging by the meals that are brought- slide through an opening in the door- I would say almost a week now.

I'm filthy.

No shower in a week.

But the thought only enters my mind once, when I happen to catch my reflection in one of the glasses.

My eyes are what make me shudder.

Crazy.

Desperate.

Some small part of them match the unknown man.

Alto.

He surely was looking for me.

I knew he was.

I felt the bond, however small, pulsing inside me.

It was an assurance I needed within me.

An assurance that Alto was alive.

Therefore I had to keep going.

Among all the glass and instruments- the thought entered my head more than once of what the nameless man would do if he happened to walk in one day and find me there- laying upon the floor with a shard of glass in my hand and my wrist flowing red.

But then the image of Jasmine's face would resurface.

And I knew I had lost.

The week- or what I thought to be a week- went by, before the nameless man arrived again.

I think, the fact that he remained without a name to me, created even more fear inside.

Because I had nothing to place to his face.

He was just evil.

That was all I could put him as.

A mystery that haunted me.

A shadow that lurked.

Not a human.

Not a wolf.

No name could describe him.

"Hello little Fayette!"

I don't say a word as he drags in a man.

He seems dazed.

Like he's been knocked out and is still coming to.

"I thought we could do a little experiment."

I shudder at his words.

"Lets see what progress you've made."

"It's not ready."

He tsks at me.

"I know that little Fayette. The problem is though, I can't have you using yourself as the tester like last time."

I freeze and try desperately to regain my breath as I take in the fact that he knows that.

He knows everything.

"So," he throws the man forward, letting him fall to my feet, "Test."

I don't move as I look down at the man.

"Problem little Fayette? Should I bring another wolf for you to test? One who is much much more pretty?"

I suck in a deep breath at his words.

With shaking hands I reach and grab a test tube that had been resting upon the rack.

Several seconds later, a needle is filled with the clear substance.

The nycomy had been used this time.

It would work.

This man would be okay.

"He's..." the unanswered question lingers there as the nameless man leans against the wall, eyes full of small delight and happiness.

"Human turned wolf. But not for long."

I slowly raise the man's arm but stop when his hand weakly grips me.

"Please," his soft moan has me trembling.

"Go on little Fayette."

I swallow, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

But I do as the nameless man says.

"I'm sorry."

What horrible words to say.

I slowly slide the clear liquid in, holding my breath as I wait.

And then the man starts screaming.

His body jerks, arms and legs twisting and seizing uncontrollably as foam surfaces to his mouth.

"He's choking!" I scream.

I fall to the floor, pulling his body to the side, trying to help him.

But it's too late.

He's still.

I drop my hands and scream.

Black blurs my vision as the reality hits me of what I've done.

Hands grip my shoulders, throwing me back into the chair as the nameless man snarls.

"I'll be back in a week with a different man. Try again little Fayette, or the count rises to two."

And then he leaves.

"No wait!"

But he's gone.

I scream again because what the nameless man has done is to cruel for my own words.

He's left the body in the room with me.

I start gagging.

I can smell him.

I know logically, there is no smell of decay or blood so fast, but my mind seizes my senses in the moment, overloading them.

I throw up whatever food is in me as I cry in the corner of the room, as far away from the man as I can.

"Please," but no one hears me.

"Alto please."

But no one hears me.