“Ahhh—!”
The box had fallen.
“O-Oh god…p-please..”
It clattered to the ground as if it were a worthless waste of wood and not the home of a blade that could shatter worlds and slay immortal creatures of fiction.
“Master…don't stop…!”
The Red One gripped both of his arms by the elbows, using that hold to keep Jace in place while powerful hips thrust into his soft and wet hole, fucking him with every bit of ferocity he held back when Jace had to be shared. But he wouldn’t be shared this time.
Thick growls and high moans lifted into the air, the mating of mortality and sin. And Jace could feel his muscles working endlessly to keep himself supported, knowing the Red One would only enjoy it more if he gave into the uncomfortable position. Cum slid over the bite marks of his thighs, mixing with the feverish sweat of a body that didn’t know an end to the starvation of skin.
His legs restlessly moved against his master’s massive shoulders, tensing whenever he felt the Red One slam into him with a quicker thrust just to hear him whimper. And the demon chuckled, a dark and morbidly sexy sound Jace wanted to hate, but his body knew better and tightened around that thick cock in a greedy spark of excitement.
Such a reaction pleased the Red One, who brought him forward in a sudden movement to bite a painful circle of teeth into his nipple. Jace gasped, which turned into a sharp hum of pain that rolled into a moan when his master’s demon tongue licked and flicked the stiff bud until he was shivering.
After cleaning each trickle of blood, the Red One leaned back, leaving Jace's chest tingling and wet as he looked down at him. The demon's hips slowed, but their force remained insistent on driving deep. Jace’s eyes began to flutter close, but he opened them half-lidded when his master took his chin and pressed down on his bottom lip. With his face seized, and his mind losing its fight to reason, Jace met the Red One’s stare and watched the faint glow of distance flames dull inside their hollowed home.
Jace savored a strange taste of emotions forming on the tip of his tongue, the out-of-place tenderness his master gave him during the rare moments they were alone.
The point of the Red One’s claw scraped his lip, and he forced Jace to focus with a slight jerk.
Their gazes met.
“I’ll warn you now, boy,” His voice lowered, becoming the whispers of a lonely prisoner left to rot in the dark cells of an abandoned fortress. “If you so much as breathe a sigh of mutiny and approach anyone without a glimmer of murderous intent…I will drag everyone you cherish into this world screaming, one by one, and you will watch them suffer.” The Red One released Jace’s face and slid down to his neck, threatening the frail skin of his throat with gentle claws. “They will feed my demons, each one ripped open and kept alive long enough to feel the pain of your disobedience.” That voice rumbled into the depths of his ear, luring a slow moan from his lips with the help of several sudden thrusts into his ass. “I will cloud your mind and body with the shadows of a desire no human could survive, but you will. You’ll live through it all, serving many more masters for eternities to come. And you will never know rest again.”
Jace’s arms were released, and the demon master watched him, taking in the air with long breathes shifting into growls burrowed deep inside his bones and body. Snarls that cut through the silence like the swords of this room, impatiently waiting for the only answer that mattered.
And Jace nodded, sliding his hands up the red demon’s chest and around his neck, bringing himself closer and opening his mouth to receive his reward. Bloodied and wet fangs surrounded his mouth, parting to give Jace the tongue he sought. That hot, thick serpentine shape conquered his throat but did not lash around, as usual; instead, the Red One took his time to taste. He moved again, seizing the moans rising within Jace’s chest and holding him frighteningly close to the cadence of slick noises.
Fear surged, but not the kind he wanted, not for his family or Bryce.
No, it was instinctive.
A cruel and selfish fear built on the desperation to please his master.
Jace opened his eyes when the bus lurched, realizing right away he’d dozed off on Noon’s shoulder. He lifted his head with a flushed face, and Noon smiled at him.
“S-Sorry,” Jace said sheepishly.
“It’s okay, you looked tired.” He said, glancing back to his phone when it beeped, and after several seconds of fast typing, he continued. “You know, I’m nervous as hell. I was up all night trying to sketch something good, and I don’t know what felt worse—internally agonizing over the perfect sketch or that Jimmy is going to be evaluating my work. And I—”
Jace listened, or he tried to with the dream—the memory—still fresh on his mind.
It was the light, the brightness of sun and freedom, that almost made him forget the Red One’s threat. And all good feelings were tarnished with an oil-spill of foreboding uneasiness that followed him when they stepped off the bus.
Skin & Scars wasn’t far, a fifteen-minute walk Noon was uneasy about making, and luckily the bus stopped just in time to settle his anxiety. Jace didn’t mind; the chance to sit was a blessing, and even closing his eyes for a few moments was needed once the adrenaline settled. Unfortunately, it allowed the remembrance of his task to slither in and make a nest.
He followed Noon down the block until familiar violet neon flickered past the shadow-heavy street, welcoming them closer with whispers of music and light.
Beside him, Noon was talking about several different things Jace acknowledged with a few nods and an occasional answer.
Then, a strange feeling tore through him, sliding with a tactile harshness.
He slowed his steps.
Noon walked ahead, and Jace felt their surroundings sinking in like a painful bite.
The night was moving.
It spoke in tongues.
Noises—no, voices—crawled out of nowhere in the form of careful murmurs. The language of things wandering just out of eyesight; flashes of black disappearing into puddles of darkness, and teetering too far on the edge of his vision to catch with a simple glance.
His eye began to bother him. He noticed shadows lifting off flat surfaces and walking along the gutters across the street to trace their footsteps.
Jace tried not to stare too long, too nervous even to breathe as he wondered what in the hell was going on? And he made sure Noon was safe.
From above, something passed over him in a restless stir of wings.
He looked up, and his eyes went wide.
Two figures sat perched on thick wires stretching along the street, crouching like humans and staring at him with animal eyes reflecting light in a perfect circle. His right eye pinched, and those figures twitched like pictures on a TV trying to work past the static and waves of error.
A series of nonconsensual blinks brought them into focus, and they were real.
The headlights of a passing truck crossed over them, illuminating their misshapen bodies for a single moment.
At that moment, he saw strands of hair on bald scalps, wings made of feathers and skin stretching from arms to hips, then faces without lips and grinning teeth. They didn’t have fangs or pointed canines, but significant, flat molars made for crushing and breaking.
“Jace?”
Simultaneously, their heads turned to Noon.
He glanced at the young man, who stood in the safety of Skin & Scar’s neon, watching him with a questionable expression and the phone to his ear.
When someone—thankfully—answered his call, Noon turned away, and Jace used that second to look up again.
Gone.
Now, they sat above Noon.
And Jace heard something.
Sounds resembling the clicking and creaking movements of a spinning wheel trying to form syllables and consonants.
Trying to form words.
They were speaking.
“Krrrk…krrr-this…one-rrrk”
“Ssss-so…tsssk-good”
“Rrrrk...S-Srao…sssk-sha.”
“Tssk-esss….y-yesss….krrk”
In a burst of terror, Jace walked over to Noon and stood protectively at his side.
They’re talking about him. His heartbeats thudded erratically enough that Jace felt every pulse in his throat. Were they trying to take him as others had taken him? The thought of that made him sick, turning his stomach into a cocktail of fear.
Noon hung up his call and looked to Jace with a pure smile, one he would never want to be taken by any demon. “Sorry, my client is coming to unlock the door. We’ve had a bat trapped on the second floor, and Jimmy is dead set on catching it.”
The spinning wheels rolled together.
“Actually….I might have to take a raincheck.” Jace fought the temptation to look up behind them, and instead, attempted a poor excuse of a smile. “I forgot about…something I had to do, and it’s…later than I thought.”
Seeing the sudden change of mood, Noon tilted his head and softened his stare. Then he smiled, unsure and confused, but accepting. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s okay, right?”
Those creatures laughed, the horrible sound of nails dragging and breaking across stone.
Jace nodded, hiding a shiver by rubbing the back of his neck.
He glanced behind Noon when his client unlocked the door and waved them inside. Noon lingered, and Jace didn’t move.
“What’s your number? I’ll call you sometime, and we can meet up later.” Noon asked, inching closer with his phone ready, his eyes widening in a puppy-like stare.
“I don’t have one,” Jace touched Noon’s shoulder, but quickly removed it when he couldn’t get his hand to stop shaking. “But I’ll be back. I promise, I just forgot I promised to meet up with someone.”
Noon nodded, slightly more disappointed, but still accepting.
He grinned, waving to Jace and walking to the door where he bumped fists with his client. Together, they stepped inside and locked the door.
Jace waited until they disappeared into the back before he looked behind him with eyes cast upwards toward the sky.
Those creatures took flight, leaving in a shrill cry of laughter and child-like screams.
They left, but he wasn't alone.
There were many more like them, and the pain in his eye created a ripple in his vision, slowly exposing what laid hidden behind mortal blindness.
And he saw them all.
The shadows following them now held details; fur and feathers, mouths and claws—defined characteristics that no longer made them look like shaded blurs wandering around unattached to anything. And they were watching him.
Watch carefully, little pet.
Jace tasted tar, the blood of creatures long-dead, and ash.
The Dark One. He thought, resisting the urge to run and walked until the shop’s neon faded into the night.
Comments (7)
See all