Shift

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Lying on the ground, Glanni slowly opened his eyes. He was unsure at first where he was, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw the black and white checkerboard floor of the kitchen. He couldn’t will himself to move, memories of the past hitting him.

It was 23 years prior he lay in the same spot on the kitchen floor, bleeding out from his wings being brutally ripped from his body. Although his wings had been brought back, he could still feel the pain. After a moment, he found it in himself to get to his feet, stumbling some as he did.

“Oh good. You finally woke up…” a voice said from the shadows.

A wave of dizziness hit when Glanni heard the voice. It couldn’t be…

“The older you’ve gotten, the more you really have ended up looking like me....” the voice stepped out of the shadows, revealing themselves to belong to someone Glanni had thought to be dead for the past 19 years… his father, Ríkarður.

He stared, eyes wide in fear, unable to say a word.

“We’re nearly identical…” Ríkarður spoke again. “I always thought you’d have followed in my footsteps and made something of yourself, instead of turning into a common criminal. Look at everything we had. You were born into a life of never having to want for anything; an aristocratic upbringing... and yet, you practically spit in my face… you always were an ungrateful brat...”

A beat of silence.

“But, I’ve changed."

A lie.

"You can still save yourself." he continued. "I’ll let you back into the life you should have had… provided you do one thing for me…”

Glanni didn’t want to hear it. Any of it. He had tried for so long to distance himself from his father--changing his name, slight plastic surgery, never acknowledging that he was the son of the richest man in MayhemTown-but the more his father kept pointing things out, the more his fear turned to rage; and that rage burned.

Suddenly, Glanni felt as if his skin itself was on fire. He was overcome by the sensation, falling to his knees as he felt his body begin to shift. This transformation wasn’t like his normal transformation into a black cat… this was excruciating.

Ríkarður stared at his son, his face a mix of amusement and (very) slight fear. “Interesting,” he commented. “Looks like you can channel your rage into a new form. A Firecat…”

The newly discovered form was the equivalent of a black panther whose body was made up of fire.

“It’s part of your lifeforce. As we speak, you in that form, is draining your health. Which, I guess, it makes what everyone says true… keeping such hatred and anger inside of you will kill you.” he laughed. “What to do… should I leave and allow you to calm down? Or should I just stay here, and watch the hatred and anger consume you?”

Glanni growled, lunging at his antagonizer, pinning him to the ground. Most people would have been terrified at this point, but Ríkarður? He was amused.

“Now, now, my boy…” he chuckled. “We both know you can’t do what you’d like. You’d be risking too much. You’ve got a new life now… if you kill me, it’s all over… not just for me, but you as well.”

The growling stopped as Glanni realized his father was right… he’d end up destroying everything he worked so hard to have. He backed off of him, still angered. Slowly, Ríkarður got up from the floor. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Showing a bit of mercy?”

“I don’t know why I did it… you never bothered to show us any mercy.” Glanni replied.

“Because. Deep down you know you want to repair our relationship.”

“No. That’s bullshit. I don’t care about you. Mom’s boyfriend is more of a father to me and Robbie than you ever were.”

“Your brother is still alive? Pity. Everything in our lives was fine until he was born. I tried to convince your mother to get rid of him before it was too late... fucking stubborn bitch.”

At that comment, the flames consuming Glanni’s panther form flared up. No one disrespected his baby brother or his mother. Ever.

Ríkarður laughed in amusement at Glanni’s anger. “You’re just killing yourself, you stupid, worthless--” He hit the ground once more, Glanni pouncing on him, raring back a paw and swiping his father, claws out. He couldn’t kill him, no, but he would sure cause him pain.