Stolen 3 (again)

“Just look at the state of you…you’re absolutely filthy…” I looked but aside from a few flecks of dirt underneath my fingernails there was nothing about my current state that warranted my mother’s accusation.

At eight years old I was perfectly capable of giving myself a bath but I was no longer human in my mother’s eyes. I could tell by the ferocity of the steam that the water was too hot. My mother was generally a mild-mannered woman but parties made her hysterical. She loved nothing better than to plan events but she was unable to enjoy them knowing that in those few hours all of her efforts at perfection would be nullified. I climbed into the bath of my own accord knowing that my mother was too frail to lift me. I said nothing. I cried a little to myself but I was careful not to make a sound. She scrubbed my boiled flesh without sympathy but I knew that she did not hurt me intentionally.

“Don’t throw me away…” I whispered underneath the terry cloth towel. I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to hear me but presumably she did. She hugged me for a long time and it seemed to me the towel around my shoulders grew wetter. She didn’t make any promises but I felt reasonably certain that if she ever did it wouldn’t be entirely of her own volition.

I ate my oatmeal alone that morning. My father left early and my mother wouldn’t eat again for several days having been forced to eat a few mouthfuls of cake at the party. As soon as my mother began her chores I would go into the garden and retrieve my treasure. I had until lunch time to discover the location of the door but I did not need it because I already knew.

I rarely went into the basement. I wasn’t sure if the sterility of the space made it any less scary but it was at least inhospitable to vermin. I stood for a long time in front of the door debating whether or not I should open it. I knew the room inside had to be large because there was a good deal of unaccounted for space. I tried to remember if I’d ever been inside but it seemed unlikely given the volume of my restrictions. This was my father’s room. A room that he disappeared into for hours at a time. He hadn’t been down here for nearly two months.

My father was a surgeon and therefore like my mother in regards to hygiene and housekeeping. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was full of bookshelves lined with medical texts. There was a desk much like the one my father had in his upstairs office and a chair that was identical. There was a journal on top of the desk that looked exactly like the one he’d given me for my birthday, a plain leather-bound volume with no lock. Inside of the journal my father had sketched, in excruciating detail, the internal structures of the human body. There were other sketches, close ups that made me feel incomprehensibly squeamish but I could not understand their content. None of the drawings had faces. I supposed the faces were irrelevant. None of the entries were of a personal nature and although there were a number of notations accompanying each meticulously rendered image they were of a purely scientific and impersonal character.

There was no surgical equipment or specimen jars. There were no pickled body parts or metal tables with restraints. I was both relieved and disappointed. I opened every drawer in my father’s desk. They were filled with identical journals, the sketches and notations meant very little to me but I studied them carefully just the same. I perused the bookshelves taking out books at random but they were similar in content to my father’s personal notebooks. I knew the proper names for the bones but only just and I often forgot the bones of the face. I did not yet know the names of all the muscles. I knew the basic function of the organs but very little of their failings.

I opened a large chest, inside were bones labeled in my father’s tight, Gothic script. I picked up the skull. I understood that it was real but I wasn’t frightened. Flesh was what made corpses scary, decomposition. These bones were all clean and only vaguely human to my mind. They seemed to belong to the same person as there were no duplicates and only one identification number on the lid of the chest. The chest beside it was different. The bones were smaller. I did not know if the bones were from a woman or an adolescent. The chest beside that one had a set of intact bones. The full skeleton of an infant. I did not dare remove them lest they come apart in my hands. The disproportionately large cranium seemed nearly as large as the skull in the first case, I was not sure that it belonged to the same body but my father did not make mistakes. There seemed to be other anomalies in the head but I could not identify the source of the deviations. The eye orbits were too narrow for the organs they were meant to contain. The arms were only rudimentary. Though only a small fleshless creature I found it repulsive, not even pitiable, just repulsive. The first two chests had been marked with numbers but this skeleton had a name “Elizabeth”. I closed the chest, heart writhing I glanced at the final chest but could not bring myself to open it.



Part #11

(I did some edited on Part 10. This chapter is pretty innocent I think unless I forgot something!)

Dak’kon felt a warmth wash over his body when Nikolai hugged him. The hug was unexpected, almost foreign in concept. His relationships had been fragmented at best, sex without love, sex without even a prerequisite connection. He’d never been in love, never even entertained the possibility. Every feeling had been harnessed into his libido, into his music, into some vast, ambiguous space as of yet undefined within him. Though it took him a moment to respond, he did eventually return the embrace. There was something kind of nice about overlapping with another person.

Pulling away Nikolai looked intently into his eyes and just like that he was drawn into the cradle of oblivion.

Once on the other side Dak’kon’s brain was a bit slow to get working and Nikolai beat him to the punch. “Did you find out anything interesting?”

“He talked quite a bit about you actually. He told me that when you came here you had amnesia. Do you remember anything about how you got here?” Dak’kon felt a little bad for putting Nikolai on the spot, it wasn’t like he suspected the man of wrong-doing, he was just trying to piece everything together. For a long time the red head said nothing but it didn’t seem so much an act of defiance as an inability to find the right words.

“I don’t really know myself. I remember floating through the mirror, the broken one in the bathroom. A bundle of energy not much larger than a fist. Your grandfather was there and he showed me the picture of a young man. He told me to imagine that form. So I did and I became that person. I don’t remember my true form or anything about my former life. He gave me a name too but only a first one. I don’t know where I came from but every time I look in the mirror all I see is smoke and fire. I think I owe him my life.” Nikolai looked generally tormented and took a seat on the mattress holding his head.

For a while Dak’kon said nothing. Nikolai’s story confirmed him as being other, as being supernatural but it did not designate him as good or bad. Based on everything he’d felt and witnessed Nikolai was good, possibly tainted, but who the hell wasn’t?

Taking a seat beside the red head he took the man’s hand. The last time he’d held hands with another person was the day his mom died. He’d been there despite her absence in his childhood not just in that final moment but through the treatments as well. What was the point of holding grudges against those too weak to fight? Had his grandfather summoned Nikolai here to save himself or in response to some distress call? Could Nikolai be the key to defeating the entity? Was their really an entity? He’d never actually seen the demon only its off-putting human disguise.

“Xyven also said something about healing abilities if that’s the case why did you think you’d died?” Dak’kon asked Nikolai was toying absently with his fingers.

“I came here as an energetic being. If I had a corporeal body it probably burned up in that fire. I think that technically meets the definition of being dead. I am probably not human so maybe that definition doesn’t apply but without knowing what I was I can’t be sure. I honestly thought I’d disappear when your grandfather died like it was his magic holding me together when that didn’t happen I realized it was mine. I have only been as far as the garden for all I know I’ll disintegrate if I step foot off the property.” Well that certainly explained the other man’s anxiety about leaving. If Xyven’s time line held then the chef had arrived first, followed by Nikolai, and lastly the demonic entity.

“How did you learn to speak the language? And how long after you arrived was it before the statue appeared in the foyer?” Dak’kon asked a wave of calming endorpins flooding through him as Nikolai traced his palm.

“I don’t remember much about the time before the demon possessed me, when it was inside it damaged something in my head.” He said looking up now. “Do you think that place in the mirror was hell?” Having seen the mirror himself Dak’kon could understand where the other’s concern originated.

“First of all hell is more of a mental construct than a physical location but even if it did exist I can’t find any reason why you would have been condemned there. And anyways why would the old man mess around with something so dark when his whole purpose was to restore the light?” Dak’kon asked and this seemed to settle things well enough with Nikolai. The possibility that the other was a ghost, well that was still up for debate, but an evil entity? He didn’t buy it.

“We won’t be leaving any time soon. There’s about a foot of snow outside now and it looks like it’s only getting worse. As for the ghost thing I don’t think I can completely reassure you, your story is strange, but like I said before everything about you feels real.” He was starting to feel a bit loopy in the head at this point from the prickling sensations. “One more thing before I drop it. Xyven said you were some sort of empath is that true?” Nikolai obviously recognized the word but it was apparent that he had not quite fastened the concept to his identity.

The red head’s fingers wrapped around his more securely. At first all he felt was the warmth and strength of the other’s hand. Then a wave of energy passed through him, causing all the little hair’s on the back of his neck to stand. He’d never experimented with drugs but he imagined this qualified as getting high. His muscles let go, the light in the room softened into a halo of color and everything slowed down to a crawl. Even his thoughts became oddly squishy and opaque, his words dissolved before ever escaping the confines of his throat. His sense of contentment was just one notch away from giddiness. And just like that the demonstration was over and he was left feeling warm and tingly all over.

“How did you do that?” Dak’kon asked trying to gather together the threads of his thoughts but not sure that he really wanted too. Couldn’t he just feel good for a while?

“I just visualize this gold light, an almost liquid really and I imagine it leaving my body and entering into yours.” The experience was a little too similar to the blow job he’d received in the dream. Had Dak’kon simply given a narrative to what was an unconscious surge of energy? He was sure he’d climaxed and that was not a feeling easily mistaken.

Dak’kon had brought this one himself but it further confirmed Nikolai’s more mysterious aspects. Without the man’s memories to draw on it was unlikely they’d ever successfully identify him. What was the red head’s true form? What of the original? Who was the man in the photograph? Just then he had an idea. “Can I take a picture of you?” Nikolai looked surprised by the request but excited too. “Of me really? I don’t mind…” The other man started to fuss a bit with his hair but it didn’t really have an appreciable effect other than to make Dak’kon laugh. He got the impression that this was a new experience for the other man.

Dak’kon snapped a photo using his cellphone, he didn’t even give the gardener the opportunity to put on any of the usual affectations. The image showed up in the phone but there was a weird gold light around it. A second picture repositioning the man in a better angle to the overhead light did not diminish the glow. Shrugging he sent the picture to Kite knowing the man would respond quickly.

“Can I see it?” Dak’kon held the phone up for the gardener’s inspection. Nikolai seemed more amazed by the picture as a concept then by his own physical appearance. “Looks like we’ve got a response.” The response was sloppily typed but understandable. Greetings, inquiries about the house and the weather, and most importantly an expressed interest in the man in the photograph. Dak’kon didn’t respond but he had confirmed that other people could see Nikolai. But could they talk him? All he knew about ghosts and demons came from the movies or else his mom’s strung out ramblings. A junkie with a fear of prescribed pharmaceuticals it had never made much sense to him but then again neither had she. In the movies ghosts rarely used the telephone and even when they managed it, it was always distorted.

“I am going to ring Kite up.” He said not waiting for Nikolai to acknowledge him. Hitting dial he passed the phone over to the perplexed red head. “Just talk to him, see what happens.”

“Is this him?” Nikolai asked pointing to the image on the phone. The man in the photo had chin length, blond hair hidden under a toboggan, green eyes, a healthy tan, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose (the freckles were not clearly visible in the image). The angle of the photo suggested a selfie. “Hey, I am surprised you called! Is something up?” Kite answered apparently Dak’kon was known for his lackadaisical policy on phone etiquette. Dak’kon motioned for Nikolai to put the phone to his ear.

“I am the guy from the photograph, Nikolai. Dak’kon wanted to see if you could hear me. Can you hear me?” On hindsight Dak’kon probably should have given Nikolai a script.

“Yeah I can hear you just fine Nikolai. Are you helping Dak’kon out with the house? How’s it going?” Kite asked assuming that Dak’kon couldn’t even be bothered to conduct his own phone conversations and not the least insulted by the fact.

Dak’kon took the phone so as not to waste batteries (there was at least a chance of losing power if the weather got worse). The experiment had been successful in more ways than one. First and perhaps most importantly they could make calls. Second Nikolai was tethered to this world in some way. He said thanks before hanging up. Kite texted back a series of quizzical emojis but Dak’kon didn’t respond. “Some amazing social skills you got there Dak’kon.” Nikolai joked even though he was on the other end of the spectrum they were both bordering on dysfunction.

“Funny but noted.” Dak’kon had never given it much thought before but Nikolai was probably onto something. “When the weather clears I say we take our chances and head into town.” He felt a lot better knowing that Nikolai was capable of interaction with the outside world. He also felt slightly less crazy, but only slightly. Nikolai appeared to feel better too, in fact, he looked positively delighted. “How cool was that?!” Dak’kon laughed shaking his head. Just as Xyven had said Nikolai was amazed by the simplest things. Amnesia did quite explain that, as people with amnesia didn’t tend to forget such commonplace occurrences. Apparently the demon had rattled the man’s brain. Was there anything they could do to recover the man?

“I’d like to take a look around the house see if we can find anything. Xyven should be more or less inert around midday.”

For the next hour or so, while they waited for Xyven to settle in, Dak’kon taught Nikolai a couple of chords on the guitar. He was still dodging the issue of their sexual tension. It was hard being so close feeling like he felt and not at all sure how far he could take it

Part 8

(First let me say I wrote this chapter when I was in that super tired state where everything is absolutely hilarious. So this chapter is vulgar and immature and ridiculously silly. There is sexual content and a lot of talk about monster genitalia. There is also some bad language. I am not sure I might rewrite it later but either way they are trying to identify the demon and it is a type of sex fiend so the genitalia is actually relevant.)

The room was unremarkable and contained only one arm chair, a lamp, and a stack of books. “These books are they significant?” Dak’kon asked crossing the room. He was grateful that Nikolai had given him an out so to speak.

“I think so Luca (grandfather) was particularly obsessed with them. Problem is I can’t read them. Do you read Romani?” Nikolai asked trying to position himself in a way that did not reflect his self-consciousness.

“A little but I am far from fluent.” Dak’kon said flipping slowly through one of the books. He recognized a few words here and there but it was really the images that caught his eye.

“Have you ever seen the demon? Not the demon as in Xyven but as itself?” Dak’kon asked turning to Nikolai who was feigning casual with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Never in his full form. I’ve only seen hints. Yellow eyes. Wide grin. Long tongue. To tell you the truth the thing that stood out most was his. His. You know. Penis.” Nikolai almost blurted the word out.

“Well I am going to need you to describe it to me.” Dak’kon said, he had legitimate reasons of course, but he still felt rather strange about making the request.

“Really?! Well it was about a foot long altogether. Maybe more and thick like. Well like my upper arm kind of.” Nikolai said wrapping his fingers around the most appropriate section of his forearm.

“Okay go on.” Dak’kon said making a mental note as he flipped through the descriptions in the book.

“Eh well the color seemed normal but considering I only saw it when he was wearing, well Xyven I can’t be sure. Anyways it was kinda of strange. Like a tentacle maybe. Prehensile? It could move around autonomously.” Nikolai clearly felt weird talking about the demon’s genitalia, at least as weird, as Dak’kon felt having this conversation. Kudos to the red head for trying though.

“He could do this really weird thing with his penis. It turned into this weird, sucking tube thing. Like it would totally engulf my entire. You know m-my. Fuck. Cock. My cock. And he would just like suck it dry.” Nikolai said, staring ferociously at the ground.

“He also had this, I don’t know protrusion that he would rub against…like the prostrate…I have a normal cock I swear.” Nikolai blurted out all of a sudden. “I mean it returned to normal after the demon left my body.” So that was what the other was so incredibly embarrassed about.

“You prepared to prove that?” Dak’kon asked unable to contain his laughter even though it was a little bit mean.

“You know what fuck you. Describe your cock to me then…it’s not that easy.” Nikolai said his tone implied jest, not anger.

“Well size-wise I am about the same.” Dak’kon said this very seriously, so seriously that Nikolai’s face contorted into all sorts of comical expressions.

“You are definitely hung…I noticed that before…but I’d have to see it to you know, confirm, science is a bitch. Now go on what else. Are you circumcised or not?” Nikolai asked waving for Dak’kon to continue.

At this point Dak’kon could not help but laugh and soon they were both laughing.

“O-kay okay seriously. Anything else you can tell me. Was their ejaculate? How much? Did you taste it?” Dak’kon showed one of the fact sheets too Nikolai. There were actually descriptors of these things listed but of course the other man couldn’t read the words.

“Now who has a problem with personal space?” Nikolai asked taking a deep breath.

“Yes there was ejaculate. It looked pretty normal to me. The texture was normal too. I am assuming I don’t have to describe ejaculate to you in detail. There was a lot of it though and no I didn’t have a measuring cup but I’d say like ¾ of a cup or something.” Dak’kon was having a hard time listening because he was laughing so hard that he was almost crying.

“As for the taste and I can’t believe I am saying this out loud but it was kind of sweet…not sickly sweet or anything but like mildly sweet. Not saline. It was kinda of addictive, his semen I mean…too much information…but in the interest of sorting things out…are you satisfied? Are you jealous?” Nikolai slipped in that last part kinda of quiet like.

“Kinda of. I mean who doesn’t want their cum to be addictive.” Dak’kon said half-jokingly.

“You have a point but that wasn’t what I meant.” Nikolai grinned. “Seriously I just described this monster’s junk to you in excruciating detail and you’re not even going to show me yours?”

“I am not no because then you’d never stop talking about it.” Dak’kon teased even though he technically forced the other man to do it. “I hate to ask this now but what about the balls?”

“He had huge balls okay it’s a wonder he can walk around but they looked like balls you know? I know you know what they are because yours have to be absolutely fucking huge to keep asking me these questions.” Nikolai answered and it was quite a while before Dak’kon could even form words he was laughing so hard.

“That actually narrows it down thank you.” Dak’kon said showing Nikolai some of the potentials.

“They have pictures in that book Dak’kon. Pictures of monster cocks. Is there some reason I had to describe his genitalia to you? Cough. Closest. Pervert..” Nikolai said glancing at Dak’kon out of the corner of his eye. The fact that the other actually said cough instead of fake coughing set off another laughing fit. It was a while before their laughter died and Dak’kon realized they were both completely exhausted. Laughter was great stress relief.

“Well can you tell by the pictures exactly which one it is?” Dak’kon asked and Nikolai couldn’t because the images were kinda of blurry and lacking detail.

“No I can’t but those appear close. Does it say anything about getting rid of the demon?” Nikolai asked leaning over the book even though he couldn’t read it.

“No this book just describes them. So do you want to pour over this now or do you want to get some sleep? You are really killing me man. I mean that in a good way. If that makes sense.” Dak’kon said he hadn’t actually had this much fun with someone in well, ever.

“It does. I mean I can’t remember the last time I really laughed.” Nikolai said serious for a moment. “Go on look into my eyes will you because honestly I can’t wait to get into bed with you.”

“The only thing we’ll be doing in bed tonight is sleeping.” Dak’kon smiled doing his best to keep the other’s gaze.

(This chapter has kissing and a bit of sexual content. As you know I am writing this for fun, no planning involved, just strait stream of conscious. I tell myself stories throughout the day and this is a bit like that, only I am writing it down and sharing it. I have extremely poor social skills in real life and that bleeds into my characters and their relationships which is why I tend to choose misfits. Anyhow I realize I’ve never described Dak’kon’s appearance (or given him a normal name lol). Dak’kon is 6’3, athletic/fit but not bulky, Japanese/Eastern European, tan, brown eyes, long, thick, black hair with a slight wave, on the sexy side of good-looking, body hair more in line with his Japanese heritage, medium frame size)

“Xyven approached me in the library shortly after you left. He looked…off somehow.” Dak’kon said no sooner than the portal had closed behind him. He wasn’t slurring his words but his pacing was a bit off. Nikolai was clearly troubled by the news and it was a while before the other spoke again.

“We’ll have to reevaluate the schedule.” The red head sighed giving Dak’kon a thorough once over. “I thought you slept naked.” He commented after another pause.

“I don’t feel much like sleeping and even if I did what makes you think I’d jump into bed with you naked?” Dak’kon answered smiling. Was it Nikolai or the alcohol that had taken the edge off his mood?

“It’s called wishful thinking you should try it sometime. By the way have you been drinking?” Nikolai asked indicating the water bottle still in Dak’kon’s hand. It wasn’t so much the inconspicuous bottle that had tipped him off, as the lazy smile plastered on the musician’s face.

“Wishful thinking I’ll keep that in mind. I have been drinking. I wasn’t sure when you were going to show up.” He said his gaze lingering a little too long on the other’s lopsided grin.

“I would have come sooner if I’d known. Did anything happen? What did he say?” Nikolai reached up and squeezed Dak’kon’s shoulder right where it connected to the muscles of his neck. It was meant to be a comforting gesture but it felt a little too good.

“Uh…nothing particularly enlightening. He apparently doesn’t want us redecorating.” Dak’kon’s said shrugging. “There is something I don’t get though. I thought he was tied to the house. I saw him in town when the lawyer went over the will.”

“Did you see him interact with anything? Did he speak to anyone?” Nikolai asked it was apparently the first he’d heard of Xyven’s outing.

“Not that I can think of. He barely left an impression.” Dak’kon sat his bottle down on the table. There was really no use drinking now, though there was something slightly appealing about getting drunk.

“Maybe he can project his image?” Nikolai suggested but it was clear he didn’t have an answer.

“I have seen some things I can’t explain. The way he moved it wasn’t natural. I might be losing mind.” Dak’kon said flopping down on the mattress.

“That is a possibility.” Nikolai offered plopping down beside the other man. “But in that case you’re not the only one.” The red head nudged him playfully.

“So what do we know about this demon anyway I mean really?” Dak’kon asked, he wasn’t looking at Nikolai now. He didn’t even slide over when the red head sat too close.

“He attacks when you’re in an altered state of consciousness. He can infect dreams. He has the ability to possess others and that is what really sets him apart from other incubi the ability to assume and maintain a corporeal form. He consumes sexual fluids.” Nikolai chewed on his bottom lip, apparently that last bit of information was embarrassing.

“What do you mean consumes? Like it gets him off or like its a source of energy?” Dak’kon asked. He was so far down the rabbit hole at this point that there was no coming up for light.

“Both. I don’t know if he’s subject to starvation but I wonder how long he could maintain his hold on Xyven if he were deprived.” Where had Xyven been getting his fluids anyways? The obvious answer, of course, was Nikolai. Though it seemed to him that the red head had been hiding himself for a while now.

“We could just leave then. Head back to my place in the city at least until the winter is over.” Dak’kon suggested. He had no intention of abandoning the house but he wasn’t exactly equipped for this sort thing. At least in the city they could conduct proper research and make contacts. An internet connect could have done wonders for their cause.

“Maybe but you said he projected himself into the city. He might be forced to return here periodically but whose to say he can’t leave? Besides I am not sure if I can leave the house. Maybe I died and maybe that’s why he left my body.” Although it was obvious that Nikolai considered his death a serious possibility, Dak’kon could not help but laugh.

“I just watched you eat a whole pizza by yourself. You are real alright. I can see you. I can touch you.” To illustrate this (though it was unnecessary considering that they had touched many times) Dak’kon mussed Nikolai’s hair. “You need to get out of this place. Interact with people.”

“I want to kiss you just so you know.” Nikolai turned away smiling shyly. “We’ll try it your way but I better not fucking disappear. Now play me something, you kind of promised me and I have entertained your questions enough for the night. Just for like a second I want to be normal.” Nikolai said and there was something sincere and even a little sad in his tone.

“You talk too much.” Dak’kon replied turning Nikolai’s face toward him. His eyes were lowered when he pressed forward. Nikolai met him part way. The kiss started out slow, sensual, exploratory even but proceeded with great desperation. Dak’kon was surprised at how soft the other man’s lips were. Everything about the kiss surprised him, especially the part where he liked it. Though like wasn’t a very adequate description for what was, in fact, an incredible kiss. They parted only after their aching lungs were too spent to continue and even then it was with great reluctance. “You are alive.” Dak’kon took Nikolai’s hand and instead of placing it over his own heart he had the man touch himself. How long had Nikolai been living here like this, long enough for peculiarities and schisms to arise, long enough for desperation to override logic. “Now I believe I owe you a song” Dak’kon said rising.

“Or we could just make out some more.” Nikolai suggested, his voice low, sexy even. Dak’kon was very close to accepting the offer.

It was a bit too soon for him though. He’d never been attracted to another man outside of a vague, casual acknowledgment that some men were fit. Even during his more impressionable years he had been strictly drawn to the opposite sex and it was with the opposite sex that all his youthful experimentation had occurred. He was not prepared just now to alter his identity. He could not deny that he had just kissed another man and that he had enjoyed it to an almost painful degree but he could at least give himself some processing time. Time to absorb, maybe even savor the anticipation and turmoil the incident had caused him. It wasn’t like he was black and white about his sexuality or sexuality in general it was just unfamiliar. It was deeper than that though he was unfamiliar with monogamy, with deep friendship, with anything bordering on meaningful and he didn’t take Nikolai for a one night stand kind of person. The one thing he hated more than anything was leading someone on, since he hadn’t totally shot the man down yet it was clear enough that he was at least entertaining a possibility between them.

“Don’t be so greedy.” Dak’kon teased taking his guitar out of its case.

Dak’kon played several songs, though it was in part to center himself. He even sang. His voice was deep, a bit rough, and his voice bordered on too sexy, inadvertently sexy. When he was finished Nikolai praised him enthusiastically but it was the shifting of a concealed erection that clarified the effect of his music.

Nikolai chewed nervously on his bottom lip and there it was again that feeling of overwhelming awkwardness. A tightening of the chest. An ache that was to Dak’kon utterly foreign. They had chemistry and he was not used to holding himself back.

“Will you follow me? There is somewhere I want to take you.” Nikolai asked shaking Dak’kon from his mental paralysis. “Yeah alright.” He said looking into the other’s eyes for the first time in a while. It was both intoxicating and uncomfortable as hell.

“Trance or vodka it’s up to you.” Were they going to travel to one of the other rooms? Dak’kon had noted the existence of 4 unopenable rooms. So far he’d only seen one. As for the options he wasn’t sure which was better. His buzz had worn off. If he got drunk he was more likely to act on his impulses and less likely to remember the details.

“Trance.” He said after a too long pause. Nikolai clipped his hair back this time maybe because Dak’kon had teased him about the ponytail.

“I almost can’t look at you.” Nikolai said shifting his weight back and forth, so the man was shy when it got real? After looking down several times to collect himself the red head finally focused and with an intensity Dak’kon hadn’t seen before.

Looking into the man’s eyes he found himself slipping underneath a powerful tide. He didn’t struggle.

I am writing

So here is the thing. I have started writing a story and it is has kept me pretty busy. I have already talked at length about my difficulties with story writing so I won’t repeat them here but suffice to say I am practicing with the hopes of strengthening my craft. The story I am currently working on is strictly for my own amusement. I wanted to write something completely selfishly, something I didn’t need to censor for an audience. So I am writing a story with horror, humor, psychology, and sex (gay sex in this case). Given my themes I wasn’t sure if I should share it here or not! I am not sure yet how graphic it will be. I am not even sure how much sense it will make or if it will be good or bad. It is a learning exercise and I want it to be as fun as possible (fun for me I mean).

Writing Prompt #197 “Special Collage and A World Apart 5″


I tried creating my character with the Sims. I am no artist and not very visual but I tried lol This character is creepy so you have been warned.

Character Name: Rhazien Sphynx
Nickname/Alias: Marrow-Fiend
Gender: male
Occupation: Collector
Location: Ragpicker’s Square Sigil
Alignment: chaotic neutral/evil
Birthday/Age: April 24th/28
Height: 6’3
Weight: 171 lbs
Body Type: athletic/lean
Hair (length, color, texture): about chin length, silver, thick, shaggy, silky
Eye Color: silver no pupil which gives him the appearance of blindness
Skin Color: white almost silver with no discernible pigmentation
Clothing: collectors wear a grey cassock like a monk, his favorite color palate is blue and silver though
Race: demon/human hybrid
Distinguishing Features: his eyes, his skin is so pale it is almost silver, he has the ability to morph and thus can take on a variety of unusual characteristics
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Relationship Status: single
Children: none
Personality: Rhazien’s unusual situation has led to psychic fractures much like what you’d see in persons suffering with PTSD. He is unstable and chaotic. He is at war with himself, struggling to cage the demonic impulses within him. Sometimes the impulses win. Traits: impulsive, loner, intelligent (though not always articulate), intense, self-confident/assured, forceful, unfriendly, cold, rough even violent, he lives a pretty spartan lifestyle and when he does earn money he tends to spend it quickly on stuff for his workshop, dexterous, mechanically-inclined, curious about religion and religious people
Likes: marrow, bones, gadgets, firewine, Arborean pears, Absinthe, old books, libraries, cathedrals, graveyards (he only eats of the freshly killed it is just the peaceful aspect), rain, tools
Dislikes: pity of any sort, committed relationships (he’s a loner), stupid people, children
Motivation: There are times when they still wish to be autonomous/times when they fight with each other. To visit different lands. To be an inventor. His attraction to religion and religious figures may be a desire of his human half to be redeemed.
Strengths: Now that the fusion is complete he has an elongated lifespan and ages very slowly, regenerative capabilities, increased stamina, speed, and strength. He can use hallucinatory magics (just looking too long into his eyes can induce hallucinations). He has the ability to change his physical characteristics.
Weaknesses: His psyche is dangerously unstable. He is sensitive to sunlight and heat.
History: Rhazien’s parents are deep into black magics and they worship a demonic entity named Marrow-Fiend. Marrow-Fiend’s essence is trapped within a sealed amulet, his physical body long gone. When Rhazien is twelve his parents succeed in breaking the seals on the amulet and transfer the demonic essence into their son’s body. The powerful force nearly tears the teen’s body apart and fractures his soul. For a year Rhazien is unconscious, barely hanging on to life. His physical form transforms, taking on some of the demons original characteristics, a process which would be excruciating if not for the fact that the youth is comatose. A year later Marrow-Fiend awakens in complete possession of the youth’s body, Rhazien’s soul is but the faintest flicker. Marrow-Fiend kills Rhazien’s parents sucking the marrow from their bones. He continues to rampage for weeks in an attempt to regain his powers and strengthen his weak human form.

One day Marrow-Fiend comes across one of Rhazien’s soul fragments he doesn’t know what the object is and picks it up thinking he can pawn the pretty bauble for a bit of jink in the morning. When he wakes up the jewel is gone, unbeknownst to him it has been reabsorbed by his host. Having regained a piece of his soul Rhazien is stronger and regains consciousness. The youth is too weak to fight or communicate with the demon but he is aware (partially) of what is happening. More time passes and Rhazien grows stronger, strong enough to maneuver his body when the demon is in an unconscious state. He begins searching for his soul fragments while the demon sleeps and with each assimilation he grows stronger. While the demon is awake he can do little more than observe the demon’s behaviors. With time he gains an awareness of the demon’s thoughts and feelings. When Rhazien is around 24 he collects the last of his soul-fragments but the damage is done, he has witnessed too much horror and trauma and has been exposed too long to the demon’s poisonous ideology. Unable to defeat the demon, they become one. He takes a job as a collector, gathering up the city’s dead and delivering the bodies to the Mortuary for a bit of jink. He drains all the fresh bodies of their marrow but otherwise he mostly subsists on animal marrow.