Chapter 1 - Phoenix
A blinding stream of light forced its way through the hospital blinds. Phoenix squinted, trying to figure out where he was. Closing his eyes again, he quickly retreated to the darkness. He didn’t know which was worse was worse, being thrust into the light or the visions he saw in the dark. The next attempt to open his eyes came hours later. He’d lost track of time. Phoenix opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust and focus. His room was dimmer this time, making it more tolerable.
A woman in white stood looking at him. “Are you an angel? Did I die? I want to die.” It hurt to talk. His throat was raw, as if somebody had used a sanding belt on his esophagus.
The angel looked at him quietly. She poured a trickle of water from a plastic pitcher into a tiny paper cup. “Here, drink this,” she said.
As his head cleared, he realized she was a nurse. He was in a hospital bed. He was sad she wasn’t an angel. That meant he was still alive. He wanted to be dead. Though, he wasn’t sure he belonged in Heaven. Maybe there was a place for him in Hell.
Phoenix took the water and drank it. “Is there more?” The cup was a joke, barely big enough to hold more than a sip or two of liquid.
The angel nurse took his cup and refilled it. “Here, take these,” she said, scooping her hand into her pocket and handing him pills.
“She’s dead, isn’t she? I killed her. I tried to save her and I couldn’t.” His face was wet with tears. How ironic, his throat was dry and now his face was wet. “What are they?” Phoenix looked at the pills. He didn’t like the groggy feeling. Were these responsible?
“They’ll help relax you. You’re sick. These will help you get better.” She scribbled something on his chart.
Lost and confused, Phoenix didn’t want the medication. He didn’t want to sleep. He needed to suffer. He needed to remember and never forget what he was responsible for. It was his fault. She was dead because of him. There was nothing he could do. There was no bringing her back. He tried, he desperately tried to save her, but it was too late. He watched her take her last breath. He’d never felt more helpless in his life. Anxiety poured through him like liquid silver.
As the memories rushed back, his eyes glazed over and panic raced through his veins. “Help me!” Phoenix clawed at his arms. Ripping off his hospital gown, he tried to stand and climb out of bed. He needed to get out of here, now.
“Code Gray,” the woman yelled out. As quickly as the words were shouted, two men were in the room. One tackled him as he went to throw a punch at the other. Together they took him down and tied his arms to the hospital bed railings.
With a deep bellowing growl, Phoenix tore his arm away from the bar, the restraints barely holding. His brutal strength was apparent. He got one loose, but the staffer was on top of his arm as quickly as it happened. They added another tie down to each arm for security. Another deep cry came from somewhere inside. The agony that called out was emotional, not physical.
With him restrained, the nurse popped a tube open and fed it into his clenched and closed mouth. She squeezed it between his teeth and cheek, knowing it would absorb. They only used these in emergency situations, but at this point, she knew he wouldn’t cooperate and take more medication.
His burst of energy slithered away and his face slackened. The medicine was quick acting, and calmness soon washed over him. The other staffers nodded and headed out now that he was subdued.
The nurse picked up his hospital gown, which was hanging off the edge of the bed. She placed it over the naked man to give him some of his privacy back.
She couldn’t help but notice his muscular body. She didn’t want to notice. She didn’t want to look, but once she did, she could barely look away. Blushing, she forced herself back to a professional state of mind. His body was amazing. As scary as he was a few moments ago, she was still a woman, and he was a beautiful specimen. He looked like a finely crafted sculpture…a big, solid wall of muscle.
Sedated, Phoenix was moved to a safe room for his own well-being. Waking, he called into the night, sobbing like a wounded beast ensnared in a trap. He was captured, like a bear in a zoo. Didn’t they know he was a real bear, a wild bear, a bear that needed to be free? A shifter bear, half man, half bear. He didn’t belong in a zoo, yet they caged him. This was their first mistake. How long had he been here? How long would they keep him?
Phoenix paced and then slid to the floor. The room had a rubber mat, like a child’s playground. This was simply a holding room. Where would they send him next? Didn’t they know when he got his senses back and they stopped tranquilizing him, he’d free himself? Didn’t they understand that their silly little doors wouldn’t hold him when his true rage came out?