Tales of a Shifter (P5) The White Mountain

Chapter 43 - History

Chapter 43- History

Jacob and Ezekiel stared at each other for a moment, their eyes held in the empty stillness of the small room that had once been the childhood room of a man they both wanted to possess for two completely different reasons.

The dreams, the things Ezekiel wanted to think about, it all was pushed back as he watched the Lion smirk, then confidently stride forwards. Seeming to ignore the countless claw marks driven into the walls, and the decimated covers and cot that had once occupied the room, but which now laid strewn all around the room in tattered broken debris.

The silver manacles wrapped around his throat and wrist, which had been burning and slowly poisoning him for the last few days made every second a torture. Time slinked by in that room, but Ezekiel knew that it had been far too long since he had seen his brothers, smiled at his parents, or held Brandon in his arms.

There was no birdsong. No moonlight. No breeze or airflow that didn't reek of sterility and silence and dead light in the Alchemists Base. Ezekiel hated it. With every passing second, he craved the rolling hills and fresh pine of his homelands.

A swift wave of unpleasant cramps danced across Ezekiel's muscles and his belly forcing the man to shift, but the act of moving only increased his misery as the silver manacles around his throat and wrists sliced, chafed and softly burned the bloody sensitive flesh around his throat and shoulders.

Ezekiel wanted to face the Lion, perhaps even right out attack him, but the truth was, Ezekiel was a nauseous, anxious, mess of a Guardian. So with feigned grace, the Guardian sat back in the corner, panting, heaving and covered in blood and sweat. But ready and waiting for anything.

Or so Ezekiel thought.

"What the fuck do you want!?" Ezekiel hissed, flashing his eyes at the Lion as he sauntered closer then Ezekiel thought he would. Considering how badly the Guardian wanted to kill him.

But showing the same bombastic cocky disregard the Lion seemed to have for everyone around him, Jacob walked nearly up to Ezekiel's feet, before he growled and lifted his voice.

"Language Ezekiel....Tsk. Tsk." The Shifter admonished lifting his eyebrows and feigning shock. "Don't look so blood thirsty. I've only come to feed our guest of honor." He said, then with little care, the Lion put out his hands, and dropped the trey he was carrying to the left of Ezekiel's leg.

Ezekiel barely glanced at the items on the trey, which consisted of a giant slab of mystery meat, and a few moldy cuts of bread, before the Guardian lifted his foot and slammed it into the object, sending it and the food across the white floors. The items clattered angrily before settling at Jacobs's feet.

"Fuck you...Now tell me where Brandon is? Tell me what you're doing to him?" Ezekiel panted, wishing he had the energy to jump the scant feet between him and the Lion. Or that Jacob would try to attack him.

But Jacob made no moves to come closer, instead, he cast Ezekiel an annoyed snarl, and sharply barked at him.

"That was foolish." Jacob softly rebuked, suddenly sighing, dropping to his hunches, and gesturing to the spilled food. "Perhaps you've forgotten where you are Lover boy. But you know...considering that none of these Alchemists would as much as spit on a Shifter if he was on fire, this food is all you're going to get."

Jacob used his right hand to flip the trey back over. The food was quickly plucked from the floor with his claws, and pushed to the side, before Jacob dusted his hands together, sighed and looked Ezekiel in the eyes. "And I've been away on business back in my Clan. I have no idea where the Lil One is or what Hovel has him doing. Now, you should eat. Your suffering is useless and stupid."