Chapter 1 - His Struggle

Are you deranged like me?

Are you insane like me?

Do you call yourself a fuc-king hurricane like me?

-GASOLINE

The Guardians didn't return for days. Following the dispatch of the beasts that had nearly killed them all, for now Brandon had been left alone as Ezekiel and his Brothers went out to hunt.

It had been two days since then. Plenty of time to plan an escape. Plenty of hours to scheme on how Brandon would get away from Glen and out of the Pine Forests that surrounded the Leopards home Land's, but to risk an escape was to risk something Brandon just couldn't let himself accept.

It wasn't any care that he had for Mantilo's rules, or of the Clan Heads retribution should Brandon be caught that kept him from making a move.

It was only the torture of those two days that held him captive. Two days that Brandon spent in imposed isolation, locked in the bedroom, denying all the food that Glen tried to give him....because during that time all he could think of...all the flame inside of him wanted to do was devour the single life left around him....and that meant Glen.

The Guardians and Mantilo had left her home, unaware of the danger, as they had went out to hunt the Ghouls that had attacked. Leaving Brandon and Glen all alone in the mansion for the last seventy two hours. Seventy two hours where he envisioned killing Ezekiels mother over and over.

Every second......was a struggle for him. It was like having a three ton beast tied to a chain inside of him.....

A beast that spent every little second pulling and snapping to get free. So he struggled as he always did not to give in. Not only to hold the powers inside of him at bay, but to drag up the willpower to even try.

Of course Brandon liked Glen. He liked her a lot. She had a stunning heart and presence.

He couldn't stomach the idea of harming her, feeding on her, but this energy inside of him would not be denied by simple sentiment.....if it could? He wouldn't be the monster that he was.

Brandon wouldn't be sitting in a corner, curled in a ball, and nearly three full days short of sleep, if his feelings held any sway over the flames desires.

So...by sheer will he kept himself locked away.....sitting still and silent and focusing all of his energy on not killing the Leopardess who had saved his life, but even as most of his strength went towards Glens wellbeing...The rest of it went to the whirlwind of thoughts that circled in his unmoving head....his mind churned as time and the appearance of the Ghouls weighted him down. A giant dark vat of secrets and anxiety's and worry's and memories his mind felt far too heavy.

Too much to remember.

Don't do this.

Don't say that.

Don't forget them.

So much he wanted to forget.

The face of his enemies.

The pain held inside.

The warmth of a certain Shifters smile.

And then, seemingly for no reason....the flame finally gave in to him. IT stopped trying to feed. It stopped trying to rip him open and escape....it just grew still and silent, and warm. Nestled in the depths of his soul, locked away....for another day, and it was only seconds after it fled that Brandon collapsed in exhaustion. And just like that two days were wasted.

The third morning Brandon awoke to the sound of a soft pounding on the bed room door.

Glen?

Brandon thought to himself, just starting to open his eyes and knowing that there was only the Leopardess in the mansion with him. She had visited him every morning and night, offering food and each time he had had to turn her away or ignore her. But now...the danger....the danger that he posed was past and he instantly felt the need to at least offer the faithful healer some kind of explanation for his actions.

Slowly he stretched as the pounding sounded at his door once more. He found himself lying on the floor of the tub in the bathroom, the cold porcelain was an unwelcome companion to his every shift and movement as he slowly uncurled and tried to find his feet. The Flame....was still there. It was always there, but now he had no reason to fear it as it remained buried, slumbering inside. Uncaring of whatever prey rested on the other side of the door.

Terribly sore from the strange position of his sleep, groggy, exhausted and starving Brandon hurried to the door, hoping not only to smooth over his odd behavior with Glen, but to take whatever food she had to offer him, but when Brandon did make it to the door and open it...he found neither Glen or any food...what he found was Ezekiel.