A/N: Up above is somewhat what the main character looks like. I think he's one of the guys from One Direction, but I don't know. Also, this was inspired by the Inheritance series—also know as the Eragon series—so there are going to be similarly between the two, but Eragon won't be showing up. Sorry.
End of A/N.

~Burdon~

I tossed and turn in my bed, trying to sleep, but it was until hours later that I managed to get a couple hours of rest. But it not like it seemed like that, to me, it was like a second later, I was hearing someone knocking on my door. A female servant-a rather pretty one if I might say; with that black hair and those pretty blue eyes-came and handed me a letter. 

    Burdon,

    Get dress and meet me in the throne room. I need to talk to you-it's important.

    Your Father, Alpha, and King, Karlag.

    I thanked the servant and told her that I would meet with him. I noticed that she blushed; she then left the room.
    I was in the middle of getting ready to meet my Father when one of those wretched visions-that I swear I am cursed to have-came upon me all of the sudden.

PAIN.
    Pain was all I really could feel with the needles in my arms.
    Needles.
    Needles which caused my body to feel like I'm being eaten alive-from the inside out. In a way, I guess I was, with the syringes burning away most of my humanity and replacing it with a wild animal.
    Animal.
    Animal. Another word for a beast.
    Beast.
    Beast. Something wild. Uncontrollable. Also something that's growing inside of me.
    Wild.
    Wild. Not easily contained.
    Contained.
    Contained. Something easily controlled.
    Controlled.
    Controlled. The beast inside of me seems to be in command.
    Command.
    Command. Command wasn't something I had with the beast inside of me.
    Inside.
    Inside. The monster was within me. And it was growing in strength and power.
    Monster.
    Monster. Am I a monster? Am I human? Even with it growing inside of me? What am I? Man or beast?

∞∞∞

I opened my eyes to a blindingly bright light in front of me, turning my head-blinking my eyes as I did so-I saw what seemed to look like a dentist's stool, but with syringes, knives, scalpels instead of the usual drill, suction equipment, and filling tools right next to the slate I'm laying on.
    "Finally awake, are we?" I heard as a tall handsome man wearing a white lab coat stepped into my field of vision.
    "What did you do to me?" I asked. Or rather tried to ask. What came out was, "Wha di yuew do tew me?" because my jaw was so swollen that it was amazing that I made anything comprehendible come out of my mouth. In fact, I swear there wasn't a inch of me that wasn't swelling up.
    "You should be sore for a few days." That sounds more like a doctor talking to a patient after a surgery rather than a scientist to a 'experiment.' "Other than that, you should be fine." He was smiling, beaming, at me, as if I should be glad about it. I repeated my question, but it must not of been compressive, because he said, "And may I say that you took it quite well."
    I rolled my eyes; annoyed with how I'm being treated. I wished that I was never chosen for this. To be an experiment. Something to be tested on. I didn't chose this. If I had, I wouldn't of done it. But I didn't have a choice. I was forced to do it. I was chosen to do it. I wish I hadn't been. I wouldn't be in so much pain right now. And the scientists wouldn't be looking at me like I'm some interesting specimen worth studying.
    "Now... let's test out something by placing this I.V. in you," my torturer said, holding a huge needle in his hand-already pinning my syringe-filled arm down, aiming to stick another one in.
    I squirmed, trying to break his hold on me, flailing my arm around-before he managed to tie it down with a long, thick rope.
    "There! Now no more misbehavior, or you'll pay for it," threatened my captor, grabbing my arm again, sticking the needle in me, emptying the contents into me.
    It felt like someone decided to cut my arm in the most pain way possible, light it on fire, then sprinkle salt on it, splash on some gasoline on it, and light it again!
    To say I screamed my head off is an understatement. I literally howled in pain. Yelling to the point where I could no longer cry out in pain. So I ended up crying afterwards, tears streaming down my face.
    "Interesting," observed the evil scientist. "Almost like the real thing."

    Boing.

    Boing.

    Boing.
 
    Sounded the clock, signaling the time. The end of the torture session.
    I heard the madman sigh in disappointment. "Guess we have to do the rest tomorrow. Okay, son?" he asked, as if I had a choice in the matter-untying me in the process.
    "I hate you, Father!" I wanted to say, but with my mouth too puffy to speak, I couldn't. So I just glared at him. And he had the courage to pat me on the back.
    "Go and get some rest," he said, as if I just worked all day in the field instead of being used a a guinea pig.   
    I limped out of the white-tiled and white-walled torment chamber-the door hissed open as I stepped out. It's truly most cursed place on this blasted island. Also the most feared.
    As soon as I had both feet out of that room, I noticed someone to the side. I almost glared at him when I realized who it was.
    Lorac.
    One of the only friends I have. 
    And the only one who was worried about me.
    "How was it? Do-"
    "I'm fine," I snapped, I staggered passed him, forgetting that I couldn't make an coherent sentence, or rather say anything that anyone could understand.
    "Ecoè-"
    "Leave it."
    "I can't understand puffy mouth speech," said Lorac, slightly teasingly with concern behind it.
    I halted in my march away to turn and look at my dark-skinned friend. With his kind chocolate brown eyes-with a hint of gold-and curly black hair, and muscular body, it's not hard to see why he's such a girl magnet.
    Sighing deeply; annoyed with my forgetfulness, I pointed to myself-my thumb resting down against the knuckle of my middle finger. Then using my right hand to place my thumb against the opposite of my chest-fingers pointing up; thumb touching my chest, signing for "I'm fine."
    "No, you're not!" argued Lorac. "What's wrong."
    "Nothing," I signed. He gave me the 'I'm frustrated at you because you won't tell me what's going on' face. I placed my pointer finger to my lip and then raised my right arm and touched my left hand to my right elbow. "I swear."
    "Tell me what's wrong."
    I swung around on my ankle-even if it did cause pain to flare up my leg-and stumble down the narrow, white hallway. I managed to get a few steps before I felt a hand on my shoulder.
    "What did he do to you this time?"
    I turned. "You know what. I'm a experiment to him. Something to study. I'm not a person to him. I'm a guinea pig to him. Not his son; his own flesh and blood."
    "I'm sorry."
    "Whatever. It doesn't matter," I said before signing, "But thanks anyways."
    "No problem. I'm always glad to help a friend in need."
    I gave the best smile I could with my swollen lips. "Ice?"
    "Hmm?" asked Lorac, then it dawned upon it. "Oh! Of course! I'll go get you some! I don't want you to be in pain longer then you have to be!" And with that, he ran off.
    I was about to limp off to my room when I heard the mad man behind me ask, "You are still friends with him?"
    I swirled around to face him, ignoring the pain my body is screaming at me. "Why do you care?"
    "I don't want my son to be hanging around the wrong people. You should be hanging out with people of the same rank as you."
    "So now I'm your son? Maybe I should start being with the 'wrong people' more often."
    "You always have been my son."
    "Expect when it comes to science, correct?"
    Shoving a finger in my face, angry with me, he yelled, "You know I have to come up with something! I wouldn't be able to call myself a scientist if I didn't."
    "Good to know that you care more about the public view on you being a scientist, rather than your own son."

    SLAP!

    My head snapped to the side, hard, and I saw a couple of stars while he growled at me, saying, "You know nothing!"
    "Actually... he knows quite a bit," I heard Lorac say from behind me-back with the ice.
    "Stay out of this, Lorac!" snarled the person who dares called himself my Father.
    "He's my friend, I won't give up on him."
    "I would advise you to know your place!"
    Walking up next to me, and before I could 'say' anything, Lorac hissed out, "'My place,' as you put it, is next to Ecoè's side-my friend."
    I noticed that he glanced between me and Lorac a couple of time, before replying with, "Fine! If you want to stand with him, then you can be with him the next session!" And he stomped away.
    "WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA TO WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?!" I exploded, as well as I could with only being able to use my hands.
    "I-I-I didn't k-k-know he would do th-that," stuttered Lorac.
    "You're an idiot then! Especially if you think he wouldn't do that!"
    "I understand that you're angry, but I'm sure that we'll be able to get through this."
    I slapped across the cheek for his stupidity-not hard though; it was quite gentle, in fact, he might not of felt it-and for him to look at me before signing, "You don't know him like I do. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. And what he wants is a superhuman soldier. And there's nothing stopping him from getting what he wants-"
    "Expect for you," Lorac signed while using his voice. At my expression at him using sign language, he said, still signing and no longer using his voice, "If I end up with a 'puffy mouth' I might as well get used to using sign language."

    BOING. BOING. BOING.

    I groaned as I heard the session bell ring.

    BOING. BOING. BOING.

    I felt hands grab me as they-the scientists-tried yanking me back into the torture chamber.

    BOING. BOING. BOING.

    "His friend too," ordered the head scientist-also known as my so-called Father.
    "No!" I screamed, even though I could say anything that made sense, and I struggled against the hands grabbing me and my friend. But in the end, the hands won, and we ended up being pinned down on the experiment tables.
    "Now, we can get back on with business!" beamed my
∞
I woke from the vision to find myself looking at the floor in front of me.
Ugh! I wish that I could avoid having these stupid dreams that I always get of this 'Ecoè' and 'Evlât' person. But I do have to admit that I almost never had one while I was awake, so it's pretty strange that I am having one now.
    But I had no time to ponder this as someone-a servant or a guard-knocked on my door.
    "Are you ready, Your Highness?" a feminine, sweet, nervous voice inquired.
A servant then. Not that women can't be guards-they are; in fact our armies are better because of it; same with the men being servants-but they normally don't sound nervous. In fact they try to hide how nervous they are.
    "Your Highness?" This time the voice was filled with worry.
Crab cakes, I swore, I forgot to respond!
    "I'm coming, just give me one second!" I was reaching for my clothes when, after a second of pause, I added, "In fact, I'll take myself there."
    "You sure?" The voice through the door-it sounds like the servant from before-seemed to be disappointed.
    "Yes, I'm sure. You can go now." And which that, I heard her footsteps back away from the door and subside.
    I grabbed my clothes and rushed to my bathroom and began dressing-yes, I dress myself, the servants have better things to do; and I am quite capable of doing it myself.
    After getting dressed-I'm wearing bit of a flowing, poetic white shirt, and black pants-I pulled on my black boots with the buckles on them, and brushed my teeth and my gold-colored hair.
    I walked directly to my Father-walking around, finding the quickest route to the council room, making twists and turns to get there. The castle is huge-and looks like it's covered in gold-but I have been living there my whole life, so I know it like the back of my hand.
    Standing right in front of my father-who looks just like me, but older, so imagine me but looking around forty years older-now, I heard my father say, in his powerful voice, "Burdon, I have decided to go live with my mate's brother and his son for a year or two." 'no questions asked' tone.
    I ask even when I'm not supposed to. "What? Do you think I that I will do that and not stay here at home?"
    "No. But you don't have a choice to go, or not, because you are coming with me," said my Father in his 'this is a order not a request' tone. He uses it quite often, especially since he's king.
    "What? But I want to stay here at home," I complained.
    "I know, but my decision is final," my Father said, using his 'nothing is going to change my mind' tone.
    "But, Father I-"
    "No, you are coming with me and that is final, is that," said my Father in a 'that is final' tone.
    "Yes, Father," I said, defeated.
    "Good, now go and pack, also you have to use your sword and bow and arrows, Burdon," ordered my Father.
    "Yes, Father." I paused. It bugged me. A question itched at the edge of my mind. "But why do I have to bring my sword, bow and arrows with me?" I asked.
    "You have to bring your sword, bow and arrows because you will have to protect yourself with them," explained my Father.
    "But I'm a werewolf, I don't need to use them for protection," I protested.
    "But you haven't gotten your full werewolf powers yet, Burdon, so you will need your weapons to protect yourself. Does that answer your question?" asked my Father, in a non-questioning way.
    "Yes, Father," I said.
    "Good. Now go and pack your stuff," my Father ordered.
    "Ok, but where are we going to?" I asked.
    "That is for me to know, and you to find out," said my Father, without giving anything away.
    "Yes, Father," I  sighed. My Father got off his throne-he always sits on his throne during a council meetings and sometimes after the council meetings-and walked towards me. He just walked up and hugged me. He touched my neck, which was weird. I didn't bother to dislodge him, after all he was the Alpha male and my father. And he only hugged me when he wanted to-which wasn't since I was a kid-so sometimes it's a little weird getting hugged by him. After he finished hugging me he told me to leave, I did.
    When I got to my room and started packing, one of my friends, who was eighteen years old-dark-skinned with chocolate brown eyes with a hint of gold, and black hair-walk into the room. When I saw him come in I smiled and thought, bitterly, At least I will see one friend before I leave.
    "So what are you packing for, Prince Burdon?" asked my friend.
    "Allmas, you know you don't have to call me 'Prince Burdon' anymore."
    "I know, but it's respectfully to call you 'Prince Burdon,'" said Allmas.
    "Yeah, I know that. But you are my best friend, so you don't have to call me 'Prince Burdon.'"
    "Okay, if that's what you want Pri-Burdon," said Allmas, embarrassed that he almost said my title.
    "You almost called me 'Prince Burdon,'" I said, chuckling.
    "Almost, not quite," said Allmas, smiling.
    "That is true,"  I said, chuckling.
    "So why are you packing, Burdon?" asked Allmas. When Allmas asked that question my  smile turn, immediately, into a flown.
    "My father decided to live with my mother's brother and his son for a while," I said, disappointed.
    "So where are you going?" asked Allmas
    'That is something else I don't know,' I thought, bitterly. "I don't know where we are going."
    "Hmmm," said Allmas, frowning. And that was all he said.
    "Do you want to help me pack, or do I have to order you to?" I asked in a more-of-a-order-than-a-request tone. It helps being the son of a alpha-most of the times.
    "Sometimes I wish you were not the prince, so you wouldn't order me around," muttered Allmas, sighing.
    "Yeah, but I get you out of stuff," I pointed out.
    "That's true."
    "Now. Help me pack, and that's a order," I commanded.
    "Fine," said Allmas, sighing.
    "Good," I said.
    When we finished packing, I walked, looking for my father, but I couldn't find him. I looked in the throne room and in the council room-the places that he usually is at-but I couldn't find him. Then I came across someone and asked, "Do you know where my father is?"
    The werewolf looked up from his papers and saw me. "He's near the waterfall waiting for you, Prince Burdon," said the tall, thirty-forty, maybe-year old werewolf.
    "Thank you," I said.
    "You're welcome, Prince Burdon. It's the Great Waterfall, by the way," said the brown-haired werewolf, explaining.
    "Thanks again!" I said, running away.
    "You're welcome," said the brown-haired werewolf, and he walked away.
The Great Waterfall is far away. The Great waterfall is the biggest and longest waterfall here. Ugh, and we are going to swim all the way to land, I thought, dreading the swim.
    As I walked the trees sometimes snatched at my clothes, but they didn't ruin them-not like I cared; I hated that I have to wear formal clothes no matter what. I dodged the trees and tree branches as best as I could because my Father would have some strict words with me if I didn't. Also, as I neared, the smell of the water came to me.
    Mmmmm... I thought as I took in the smell. How I love the smell of the water-especially the sea.
    I was on my way, when I was close to the Great waterfall-near the edge-when I saw my half-brother, Malhaw, and my father talking to each other. They were both werewolf dragonriders.
    Malhaw wasn't fully a werewolf, Malhaw's mother was a day-vampire-a vampire that actually can be in the sunlight and can only be destroyed high in the sky. That was the reason I was next in line, even though Malhaw was the older one; a lot older, like seventy nine years older. Malhaw was upset-at first, but then it didn't matter to him anymore-that he wasn't in line to the throne, when he was the older one, even though he was half day-vampire and half-werewolf. It was the rules that if you are of whatever and half-werewolf-even if you were royal and the older one-you still weren't next in line. Expect if you were half-human and half-werewolf, half-elf and half-werewolf, or whatever-as long as you weren't half the werewolves's enemies-you were next in line to the throne.
    Malhaw's mother Maisha and our father did get married-arranged marriage for political reasons, not because they love each other, but Maisha gave birth to Malhaw when our father was a general, not really a king at the moment. My father and my mother met each other and got married-because they love each other, or so I was told-and gave birth to me.
    I walk up to my half-brother and my father. "Hi, Father," I greeted.
    "Ah, Burdon, there you are."
    "Hi, Burdon," said Malhaw, reaching out his hand. His deadly pale hand. With his pale skin and black hair, he looks rather striking. And like a seventeen-looking, pale, black haired version of me.
    "Hi, Malhaw," I said as I shook his hand.
    "Ready to go?" asked my Father.
    "Yes," said Malhaw and I, together. Malhaw also sounds like me, but more... mature sounding-I hate it; I wish I didn't have to go through the cracky voice.
    "I'm not surprise you asked him to come," I said, pointing at Malhaw.
    "Really? You're not surprise that I asked him to come?" asked my Father, eyebrow raised.
    "Nope," I said, shaking my head.
    "Can we go now?" asked Malhaw, all of the sudden.
    "Yes, we can go now."
    "Finally," Malhaw and I whispered together.
    "What?!" snapped my Father.
    "Nothing," Malhaw and I said, quickly.
    "I thought I heard something from you two, maybe I was wrong."
    "We didn't say anything," said Malhaw, lying.
    "You know I can always tell when you two are lying," said Father, in a matter-of-fact tone.
    "Who said we we're lying?" asked Malhaw, using a innocent tone.
    "Your faces did."
    "Our faces did?" I asked, deeply confused. That's a new one.
    "Yes, like I said, 'I can always tell when you two lie, 'because you two blush when you lie."
    "Oh," I said, surprised. I didn't realize we were blushing-I got to work on that later on. "Can we stay-"
    "Let's go," interrupted my Father, turning around already.
    "Don't interrupt me," I snapped.
    "Why?" asked my Father with a smile that I know all to well-I often do it too.
    "It's rude to," I snapped, annoyed. 
    "Like you said so many times before: we all know what you're going to say," said my Father with a smirk.
    I growled at my father; annoyed that he would use my argument against me-the one I used when I was like eight.
    "So you want to challenge me?" demanded my Father. A challenge-like growl at someone is a challenge, obviously. Before I could answer my Father demanded, "You dare challenge me? A elder werewolf; your own father?" He did say it with a growl at the end; using a bit of his Alpha power.
    Even though he was using a bit of his Alpha power, I still yelled, "I didn't challenge you! I would never challenge my own father!"
    "It sounded like you did," snapped my Father, eyebrows scrunched up.
    "Don't snap at me!" I shouted.
    "Don't yell at me then."
    "Fine," I said, moodily. So this is what she meant when she said that I would have a harder time controlling my Wolf as I get older, with being a Alpha male and all.
    "Now, where is Malhaw?" asked my Father, breaking me out of my thoughts. We both looked around-where he would've been if he had been human, and some trees just in case he was in bat form.
    "I don't know where Malhaw went."
    "He's somewhere, but I don't know where he is," said my Father. He paused after a second. "He's probably in bat shape."
    "I think I see him..." I trailed off, looking at a bat-shaped animal in the palm tree above us.  "Wait, no... wait a moment... that got to be him," I said, pointing at a bat shaped animal in the palm tree above us.
    "Yeah, that got to be him," agreed my Father.
    Suddenly, the bat-shaped animal-Malhaw-came out of his palm tree, swooping down. And as soon as he touched the ground he took human-shape again. "Are you two done fighting with each other?" asked Malhaw, his head tilted to the side.
    "Yes, we are done fighting with each other. Let's go before the day gets any older."
    And we jump into the Great waterfall.

-
Question(s) of the chapter:
What's your favorite color? Comment in the comment section below. Mine is blue.

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