Tales of a Shifter (P5) The White Mountain

Chapter 18 - Subconscious Defense

Chapter 18 – Subconscious Defense

Forced movement and fear induced sever flashes of fresh agony in Brandon's damaged system making him dance in and out of darkness.

Suddenly the endless and disorienting march down faceless hallways ground to a stop and much to Brandons semi-conscious chagrin he didn't have a clue where he had been carried to. All he knew was that he was deeper in the Base then he had ever been allowed to travel as a child beneath Nora and Jacobs care.

Still hoisted up in the air like a slab of meat being hauled to a feast, Brandon struggled to notice his surroundings in clear detail. Especially considering that he had an intense need to somehow disengage all the unfamiliar hands that were grasping, pulling and holding him against his will.

But the interior of the room still begged for his attention. Easily the first thing Brandon caught sight of was the roof, but this roof wasn't white, and bland, and sterile like the rest of the Base.

Uniquely this room had a roof in the shape of a giant half dome.....comprised entirely of smooth crystalline glass. The light of the moon beyond shinned down all across the expanse of the room within, bringing to the fore front of Brandons mind just how large the room was. And the realization that hours had passed since he had been captured.

The structure of the room was circular in nature. There weren't any real corners or shadowed spots because every crevice was touched by pale light from above. The room itself was gargantuan. It beggared the feeling of a giant cave or banquet hall in a castle, and the air just inside was musty and dry. As if the giant space within had only seen limited amounts of guests at any one point in time. Effervescent shafts of starlight, pearly radiances, danced in the distant heavens amongst the small dusting of clouds and the full almost breathtaking globe of the moon.

Unable to bear the sight of the outside knowing that he was trapped, Brandon tore his eyes away from the expansive skies above, so that he was focusing on something in the middle of the room. Something that had his stomach turning and churning on fear.

A wide stone dais sat stoic in the very center of the room. A marbled table, half as tall as any man.

Suddenly Brandon noticed movement all around in the pale light. Lots of movement.

Hastily from all around the area, from other hallways and openings, dozens of white bodies and unfamiliar faces started to pour into the room. As if called by an unforeseen power they nearly floated into the room. And the smooth cold light of the moon made their white clothing glow. Too many alchemists'. More than Brandon had ever know existed in the base. Or followed his father.

"Quickly....Lay the boy to the Alter." Hovel softly commanded, his voice rolling across the room and startling Brandon away from his scrutinizing. "Here beneath the pull of the heavens, we shall reclaim what was stolen from man."

With arms raised Hovel walked forwards, leading Brandon and the alchemists' behind him until the table, the Alter, stood before them all.

Brandon didn't even have a chance to struggle or speak, before he was being heaved and slammed painfully down on top of the stone.

"Ahh! Fuck. Let go! " Brandon snapped. He kicked and arched and screamed, but it did him no good, as more and more alchemists' grabbed him from all side of the Alter, holding him heaving and frightened, down to the surface like a sacrificial lamb.

Shit....Shit! What do I do?

Brandon asked himself, but no answer came to him. There was nothing he could do.