(MxM) Tales Of A Shifter (P1) - The Meeting

Chapter 12 - Hell

Chapter 12 - Hell

Someone was touching him.

Brandon felt it all over his skin, no he sensed it. Eyes. Hands. Something wet and slimy spread on his flesh.

His breathing was so slow that he couldn't hear anything but the thrumming pain spreading out of his stomach into every inch of his body.

His skin was too tight, it was melting. It was popping. His eyes itched. Nothing felt solid. The earth rolled.

The thoughts that tried to take hold slipped and ran away from him like spoiled eggs.

And the cold......he felt the cold like thrones beneath his clothes. Grating on every nerve like nails. Ripping. It stabbed all throughout him. Borrowing into his stomach and spine. But....there was also the wet feeling all over him. In the darkness his entire body seemed to torture him. But the worst pain was coming from his lower body. It was like someone was knawing on his guts.

But still. He sensed the hands on him. The eyes on his face. Voices talking over him.

Muffled, distorted voices. And the light was so far. It drifted so far away from him that Brandon knew that he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and take it in.

Hands on his skin made him angry. Made him terrified. But he couldn't move. It hurt just to scream inside of his own head. And these hands....were not hurting him. They just touched him. His face. His arms. And where they went, something wet and warm was left behind.

Who are you?

What do you want?

Brandon moaned to himself, wishing that he had even the will to force his lips apart. But the pain just sucked him down and the cold crawled around inside of him like spiders.

He didn't know where he was....but maybe this was Hell. And it was all that he deserved.

***

Ezekiel closed his eyes slowly and stretched his arms to the side. A giant yawn cracked his teeth, but his claws played anxious beat on his forearms as he crossed them.

He was camped out on the floor outside of the room where he had left his mother Glen to tend to the mortal's dire wounds.

In truth their mother had almost bodily thrown her sons out of the room. After Nate helped her spread slave all along the mortals' arms, and Ezekiel helped her wrap them in gauze, she swiftly escorted them all, even Walter, to the hall and closed the door in their faces.

And after that the moments had slid into minutes, then bled into an hour and still the door stayed closed.

And in the time that passed Ezekiel and his brothers were wrapped in anxious silence.

Nate passed the time humming a soft tune to himself, with a care free air about him that Ezekiel envied.

While Walter stood like a stone statue beside the door with his head cocked to the side. His face was unreadable, but Ezekiel could tell that he was using his sense to reach beyond the door. To listen to their mother as she worked on the mortals wounds without them.

And Lander was out there in the darkness somewhere with their Father, hopefully keeping his dad out on the outskirts of their Lands; chasing the blood scent left behind on Landers clothes and skin after being near the mortal.

Or he could be selling you out....
A small voice said to him.
Ezekiel sighed and pushed that thought away.

He knew that Lander, a moody prick though he was, was also a man who he could count on to do the right thing. Even if he sometimes pretended like he didn't know what that was. And Ezekiel also knew that there wasn't anything that he could do about his father now.