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Author Topic: ( CH 1) Tales Of A Shifter - The Meeting  (Read 142 times)

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Offline Crimson Petals

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( CH 1) Tales Of A Shifter - The Meeting
« on: July 26, 2020, 01:20:54 PM »
 Welcome to Part 1 of my Tales of a Shifter Series

Part 1 - The Meeting Summary

The first book in a saga about Bonds Broken made a new.

They met in the darkness. Brandon a mortal. Ezekiel a Shifter.

Their meeting will be the first dominoes in an epic saga that branches through not only time, but blood as well. Broken Bonds will come too light. A new Bond will form in the stillness of the night. And trapped beneath the cogs of fate will be Brandon and Ezekiel. Two beings that were never supposed to meet.

BOOK ONE Tags - MxM, Yaoi, Mature, Shifters, Fantasy, Action

CHAPTER 1 - His End

(The gossamer moon was the only sentinel to witness or tenuous beginnings.)
-Unknown

Brandon burst past a clump of trees, racing deep into the woods.

A fine mist of droplets fell from the pine needles over head, down into his dirty blond hair. The water saturated him. Plastering the few dry strands left down onto his scalp, forehead, and temples. His wet clothes clung to him and made his thin cheeks and dark rimmed eyes seem all the more devastating.

Brandon whipped away a cool droplet from his skin, fighting not to shiver and failing miserably. "Damn forest! It's freezing!!." He panted shallowly as he moved forward and asked himself. "Where the hell am I anyway!?"

Brandon pushed through another water soaked pine branch and gritted his teeth as the cold dew, drenched him once more. His soggy ashy blue jeans and thin black t-shirt gripped his flesh with a sharp bite.

Clingy and cold like ice. While his shoes were soggy, rotten and two days from falling off his feet completely.

Shaking away the cold he tried to motivate himself.

"Keep going Brandon....Don't think, just move your feet. Move...just a little more..." Brandon whispered to himself. Egging himself on raspy and weak. Still he knew that he had to keep moving.

The crunch of the pine needles beneath his rapid, stumbling steps, were muffled by the trees all around him. They blotted out the expanse of the sky, only allowing Brandon disconcerting hints of stars, clouds, and some small silvery shafts of moonlight; that far from illuminated his way deeper into the darkness.

Unluckily more often than not Brandon found himself running full on into one tree after another. But if someone had asked him, he would have been hard pressed to choose between the lack of light or the giant hole in his side that was causing him to traverse the darkness in a drunken, painful slump.

Brandon slipped, his heavy feet knocking each other turning his stumble into a full on face pant into the soil, but at the last moment Brandon raised his hands from his stomach and snatched at the tree beside him. His nails scratched into the bark. Chips and splinters, shoved themselves underneath his nails, releasing the heavy scent of pine and sap.....and blood.

Biting his lip as the pain subsided, Brandon tried to catch his breath. He slowly came around to looking at his throbbing fingertips.

In the sad light of the moon Brandon looked at his hands for the first time in hours.

Ignoring the stiff sting of wood under his nails, he stared grimly at his blood soaked fingers and forearms and then sighed. Brandon knew without looking at the rest of himself that his entire lower shirt, and right pants leg were drenched in coppery fresh blood. His blood. And he also knew that there was enough blood in the soil behind him that it should have killed him by now.

Surely he was already dying.

Fresh blood painted his hand, his stomach, it dripped steadily from the cuff of his right pants legs down into the scrub beneath him. Gleaming like bright red paint there was even a thin trickle of blood running from his cheek and lips where distinct gashes and a large painful bruise were just beginning to take purplish black definition.

Brandon stared at his blood covered appendages a moment or two longer trying to gather the strength, no. The Will to move.

"Oh come on!" He whispered fiercely to himself. "Pick up your feet! Don't stop!"

Brandon leaned awkwardly on that tree. Which was honestly the only thing keeping him on his bone tired feet and tried to ignore the blood that gushed out of the wound in his side every single time that he took a breath.

With every little wave of watery warmth that flowed down his hips, to further drench his pants, Brandon grew groggier, weaker.

But with every scrap of power still left in his body he refused to pass out. Even as the fatigue of his journey slammed into his lungs and made his knees shake.

I won't stop....I can't...
He told himself.

But deeper than that he was afraid to stop.

Brandon's raised his head and slammed his fist into the trunk savagely. And welcomed the pain that came with that. Determination and sorrow warred there in his groggy green eyes.

"No." he whispered angrily to himself, barley having the strength to move his lips. "You are not going to make this easy for them! If this is the night that they finally catch up to you Brandon....By god you're going to make the bastards work for it!" He lectured himself raising his head, to glare into the darkness before him; as though his enemies' were there in the shadows, not somewhere behind him, chasing him.

Like rabid dogs after a new born fawn.

Pick up your feet and MOVE!!!!

He shouted inwardly. And somehow he did move.

Brandon groaned as he dropped his bloody arms back to his sides and forced his tired legs to bend.

He couldn't help but shiver as more blood gushed out of the gaping hole in his side to splash across his hip. That terrible feeling made him want to throw up. A continuous sickly warm flow on his legs as the blood fled his veins.

Somehow feeling cold and numb all at once Brandon took one step, then another. The time fell away as he kept moving forward. Soon he was melding with the darkness even as his skin paled more and more in the scant moonlight.

***

Sadly Brandon realized he wasn't going to get very far before THEY came upon him.

It began with the rustle in the trees then along the pine needled path he had at his back. Then the sound of a hunter, deep and vicious, a growl that rose every hair on his neck. This growl was strange to his ears, but in his state of anemia and exhaustion, Brandon couldn't be bothered to wonder exactly why that was.

Of course at this sound Brandon tried to flee, further into the trees. But Brandon stumbled into three more tress before he finally had to still his footsteps or risk falling to the ground for good. His head swam with pain, and confusion. But even with his mind befuddled he knew a few select things. A few important things.

He knew he was lost. He knew he was dying. And he knew that it was there with him now, only awaiting its chance to pounce. Well and truly unsurprised that this was going to be his final night of living, Brandon chuckled weakly, coughed, and got ready to make his only pathetic stand.

Gritting his teeth against the new gush of blood and pain that flowed out of his body following his movement. Brandon reached around to the center of his back and gripped the handle of a dagger.

It was a simple weapon, with a jet black handle and a blade as long as his palm and as sharp as any good blade could be.

It sat sheathed just beneath his shirt and thrust through his leather belt so he could pull it when he needed it. Grabbing for it, but he refrains from brandishing it, he turned slowly. Using the pine tree at his shoulder as a crutch he took a pathetic stance more leaning then standing and glanced out into the now eerily silent forest.

With his back up against the tree Brandon scanned the night with green eyes too dulled by pain to reflect anything but exhaustion and...Acceptance. He held his place there at the tree, panting, bleeding out, praying that this would be it and waiting for the monster to descend and devour him.

Somehow taking a deep breath he screamed. "Come on!! Show yourself! You hear me! IM NEVER GOING BACK!!!!"

Brandon gripped the dagger tighter as another growl cascaded on the night, bouncing off the tree trunks, encasing him, and pounding on his ears, and waited for his end.



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Offline Crimson Petals

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( CH 2) Tales Of A Shifter - The Meeting
« Reply #1 on: July 26, 2020, 01:34:27 PM »

CHAPTER 2 - New Smell

Ezekiel didn't know what exactly called him off the beaten path that night....but on instinct he had followed the soft breeze of the night. Now he stood and watched the mortal below him from the tree branches high above the intruders oblivious head.

So close that he could smell nothing but thick coppery blood.

It drenched the air, it bleed across Ezekiel's senses, tickling the beast inside of him. It growled dangerously coming awake in moments as if jolted from its rest.

So strange.  It was a curious scent, blood....and something else, laced along with it. It overpowered the smell of pine that had always been a part of his Clans forests.

The smell of a mortal was alien to him in and of it self.

Ezekiel had never actually met one in person before. Of course he had been told all kinds of things, much of which he had quickly tossed right back out of his brain before it could take root.

Many Shifter's not only wanted to stay away from mortals, but a lot of them feared their sapiens partners. His people seemed to mistrust their weapons, and their influence, but many Shifter just disliked their massive numbers.

Unlike any of the seven Shifter Clans around the world, it was well know that mortals rarely suffered from things like infertility. In fact Ezekiel had even heard it told that the mortals had so many children that many of them were discarded by their parents or sold into slavery or wiped out of the womb completely.

But this blood, it almost smarted as Ezekiel inhaled it. It was strong.....it was new.

He took another inhale. A deep rumble bubbled up into the darkness. The beast within him was disturbed by the smell and yet compelled to pull it in.

It was like pepper was being drug deep into his nose, but beneath the strange pinch, there was something, warm? Something...intriguing. Ezekiel knew that he needed to run this stranger off for good.

That he needed to chase the Mortal off Clan Lands and go back to patrolling the woods the same as he had every night, but instead Ezekiel found himself stuck in the trees, clocking the unwitting mortal with his senses.

In the back of his mind, he heard the anxious growls of his companion, his Shifter.

The beast inside, the big cat was more than disturbed by the mortals presence and sharp scent.

The claws of its consciousness dug at Ezekiel mind, his soul. Begging, asking and insistent to be released. It wanted to investigate, to hunt, to get closer, and Ezekiel wanted it too.

He soothed the companion inside of his chest, calming its energy, but still, the air filled with the warm pop of the Shift. Small aspect of his inner beast blead through, merging with his mortal form, mixing them.

Ezekiel soft blue eyes, and black pupils, contracted sharply, slitting into the eyes of a beast....a cat.

And Ezekiel knew that his irises would be shinning now, an iridescent bright blue light would now be lent to his gaze by the Shifter inside, that turned his soft blue gaze into twin globes of light.

The blue in them was far to pail to be called sky blue. To him it was more like the hot flash of lightning in a storm. While his nails began to lengthen. Growing by inches. Which was an unpleasant tug, following the energy he released until his nails were sharp claws, more than capable of ripping a man limb from limb.

His teeth also grew and, much like his nails, this was accompanied by an unpleasant tugging sensation as his mortal canines, extended into fangs worthy of any hunter.

With the Shifter sense pouring into him, energizing him, sharpening his reflexes, eye sight, smell and taste all at once; Ezekiel once more took a deep inhale of the air. With a soft inhuman growl he started testing it for information. Smell could tell him so many things.

Smell could reveal how his prey was feeling. If they were sick. Where they had been. Even what items they were possibly carrying on them.

So Ezekiel opened his mouth and pulled in the air; parting his lisp slightly so that the scents could saturate his tongue and throat. And instantly wished that he hadn't!

Ezekiel gagged hard as the smell of sour puss and sickly pungent rot coated the back of his throat.

Infection....a terrible infection....
Ezekiel thought to himself as he took another breath.

This mortal....is very sick. How did he manage to get here in that state?

Ezekiel shook his head.

He'll be dead soon...
Ezekiel realized as he looked down on the muttering mortal.

Not only could Ezekiel smell the blood, but his feral eyes saw the way the intruders bloody clothing stuck to the strangers' shivering body.

He could smell blood coating the air like a mountain of pepper and copper.

The tastes of it on his palate was so warm, that it burned Ezekiel's nose.

But.....oddly he didn't turn and leave. He couldn't...he couldn't turn away.

He.....wanted to speak to the mortal all of a sudden. He wanted to investigate.....he wanted to smell more of this strange, yet somehow good smell.

He wanted to meet this being that he knew nothing about. He....wanted to help it.

But mortals aren't supposed to be here....
Ezekiel had to remind himself. Then he looked down at the intruder again. The mortal was screaming something, his voice so dry and broken that it made Ezekiel cringe.
Still... it's sick. If I leave now.....?

There was so much blood. And now Ezekiel was torn. Did one run an injured and dying mortal away? Or did he help it?

Unexpectedly the choice was made for him as the mortal suddenly broke off from his mad rants and slumped over in a huddle against the pine tree.

Liquid coughs, and sounds that Ezekiel had never known before began to come out of the intruder below him. Sounds that.....hurt him to hear. Like sobs.....like soft screams. Like agony.

And before he knew it Ezekiel was going down.

But remaining cautious, Ezekiel hissed down at the intruder to get his attention first.

Possibly startled by the sound, the Mortal screamed and jerked up his head and Ezekiel couldn't help chuckling darkly as the stranger jumped nearly out of his skin.

Ezekiel could sense the mortal fighting to find the voice that taunted him in the darkness. But knowing that he was hidden from view, Ezekiel looked over the mortal form above. He couldn't see much from his angle. Just the top of the mortals head. Its hair was a light golden and brown and soaking wet.

Simple pants and a shirt also soaking wet. And bright, giant blood stains...all over. But more important than all of that Ezekiel couldn't see anything on the intruder that he could use as a weapon.

No sheathes. No bulges in his pockets. But Ezekiel knew that that didn't exactly mean that the intruder didn't have any hidden blades on him.

I've got to take this slow....just in case...
He told himself, then he moved in.

Ezekiel stalked along the branches over the mortals oblivious head; toeing the wood beneath his feet. His movements were graceful, smooth, and confident. Because of the beast inside, Ezekiel never feared falling. He trusted the beast, his inner cat to lead him safely; to navigate the darkness for its mortal counterpart.

Quickly Ezekiel leap from the tree without any hesitation.

Like fluid he fell to the forest floor ten feet below, until he felt the shock of spongey needles underneath his feet. Ezekiel then let gravity pull him down into a crouch, as he came to a stop, and then he listened for the mortal's response.


Ezekiel had landed only few feet away from him, but the mortal didn't seem to notice him yet. Ezekiel had herd that mortals couldn't see well in dim light. Nor did it seem like they could smell the way his people did.

Any Shifter would have smelled him by now....but this stranger remained slumped over by the tree. Making that horrible noise.....smelling so....different from anything Ezekiel had ever known.

Suddenly the mortal spoke. "Please.....please just stop...." The intruder sobbed into the shoulder of the pine tree holding him up. His face was still a mystery to Ezekiel as the mortal had it turned into the dark shadows of the night, and his dirty, wet hair was obscuring his face. But his voice was shaky, breathless....and scared.

Ezekiel straitened to his feet, silently watching the intruder for any signs of agitation as he took one cautious step and then another step forward and as he moved Ezekiel tried to speak to the strange person.

"Hello?" Ezekiel said softly to the mortal and was rewarded with a terrified shout as the mortal jerked his head up.

Ezekiel paused for a moment as the mortal seemed to finally notice him there in the darkness.

Still Ezekiel couldn't really see his face....but their eyes did meet. Mint green. And Shadows. That's what he saw. Eyes so green that they should have been glowing. Eyes so lost that they took one look at Ezekiel and darkened with....deep distress.

They looked at each other for only a few seconds before the mortal made a soft broken sound and scrambled back into the tree even more.

He was holding his side....Ezekiel could see. He could also see the blood rushing Instantly Ezekiel got hit with another sharp jab of his scent. Puss, dirt and blood...a lot of strange blood. "Hey what happened to you?" he asked as he took another step closer. "Whats wrong?"

"No!" the intruder abruptly moaned. "I won't!!!"

"You won't?" Ezekiel asked him. Confused by this mortals erratic behavior. "You won't what? Hey can you hear me?"

"I won't go...." The intruder simply whispered. "I wont."

Ezekiel shook his head.

Did all mortals behave this way?
Ezekiel asked himself as he moved closer.
Or is he acting this way because of the pain he's in?

But somewhere along the way Ezekiel had made a terrible mistake....

He had dropped his guard and entered the mortal's personal space.

Purely on instinct Ezekiel shifted his weight to the side just as the blow hit.

The intruders shin cracked into his right thigh with more force and power then Ezekiel would have thought was possible. Ezekiel stumbled back, as he blocked the groin shot, but he didn't get the chance to be happy about it, before he looked up and saw a blade coming down.



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Offline Coryn

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Re: ( CH 1) Tales Of A Shifter - The Meeting
« Reply #2 on: July 27, 2020, 10:27:25 AM »
Hey there Crimson! I merged your two topics together for this story. Our rules ask that you only create one topic per story per board. It just makes keeping things organized a lot easier, both for you and your readers!

Thanks!

Will review stories upon request. My latest arc: http://goo.gl/KYgsfF