Creed lay with Rio under his arm. 

The air was hot and filled with the smell of sex and longing. He lost his shirt the third round in. Rio had ripped it off his shoulders, insistent on tasting his skin and feeling their flesh coming together as one. 

Now, the boy was tucked close, still panting and trembling after cumming more times than his body was used to—so much that the taste would linger for days. 

“I love you.” Rio kissed his chest with those lush, darkened lips. He said it so sincerely that Creed almost believed it. “I knew the moment I saw you in the alley.” 

The boy used what remained of his strength to kiss up the man’s neck. “We’ll have eternity together.” 

He went to kiss the man’s lips, but Creed spoke. 

“Have you ever regretted it?” 

Rio paused. “What?”

“Killing people. Innocent people.” He glanced over at him. “Have you ever regretted it?” 

Rio watched Creed with a childish wonder before lying back down in silence, and for a moment, the apartment seemed to move—floorboards creaking and shadows swimming across the walls, surrounding them as if to hear the story for themselves. 

“Once,” Rio said, cutting through the silence, though his voice had lost all traces of passion. “When I was little, I was visiting my grandma in the countryside. I loved it there. It’s different from the city—no smog or violence or broken people, just open skies and the smell of wheat. I had a friend too. A boy about my age who lived down the road. He used to take me swimming in the creek and out into the meadow to catch fireflies, and sometimes, we’d fall asleep under the stars.” 

Rio laughed, a human one. 

“He had a brother, an older boy who always carried us back to the house, and we’d wake up to their mom cooking breakfast.” 

Creed heard a noise, a strange groan, several of them, and he wondered if Rio’s brethren were listening.

“But, one night, I went home alone.” His voice quieted. “I was supposed to wait for my friend’s dad to take me, but it was storming and my grandma was by herself. I left without telling them and ran through the rain as fast as I could, hurrying through the yard and up the path, but, strangely, the door was open. I went inside, calling for my grandma, smelling the rain and something metallic, like wet pennies. I heard noises. Scary, loud, and messy sounds. And when I walked into the kitchen—I saw him.” 

Creed stared at him. “Who?”

“A man.” Rio’s pupils shrank and the light within them started to go out. “It was so dark I couldn’t see anything—but I saw his eyes, red and pulsing. He turned to me and in a flash of lightning, I saw his mutated form sitting over my grandmother’s body, bloody and emptied of all her insides. I remember the look on her face. And it wasn’t the peaceful rest all godly women wished for, but one twisted in pain and terror.”

Outside, distant thunder rumbled.

“I screamed,” Rio went on. “I screamed and I screamed. And I ran. But I didn’t get far. He tackled me from behind, forcing me to the floor, his nails carving smiles into my shoulders, then, he whispered in my ear—everything will be alright—and he tore me apart.”

Rio went still for a moment, looking up at the ceiling.

“Rio?” Creed caressed his cheek, and the boy flinched, turning to him instantaneously and watching him with such a pitiful expression. Perhaps it’d been the first time he’d told this story to someone who cared enough to listen. 

Like a lover in distress, Rio sought him for comfort and Creed held him tightly, giving him the security he needed to continue. 

“I don’t remember how it happened. I remember his voice…and the moon, full and cold and bright. It watched me, spoke to me, and I listened,” Rio said. “And when I woke up, I was hungry—hungrier than I’ve ever been in all my life. My teeth ached. My head hurt. I wanted to chew and swallow something, but I was afraid, and I ran back to my friend’s house with the dawn on my back, the woods blurring around me. I saw my friend going into the shed to feed the cows…and I followed.”

Creed’s jaw tightened.

“He turned when I called his name, but his face melted after he saw me. He screamed and I attacked. I ripped into him, listening to him cry, and ate his face off. Fuck, he tasted good. I was crying too. I didn’t want to hurt him, but the feeling I got when I drank his blood and ate his flesh was…euphoric. I was high on it. And in the middle of it all, I heard another scream. His brother had come running after he heard all the commotion, and I attacked him too. He tried to run, but I caught him, and bit into his neck. I clawed at his back and tried to stop him from fighting.”

Rio stopped for a second to take a breath, but Creed interrupted him. “Then?”

“Their parents came and I ate them too.” Rio sighed. 

The boy got comfortable and snuggled into Creed, relaxed and content as if telling his story had pulled a weight off his chest and he was glad it was all over.

“Why?” Creed asked, the low tone in his voice causing Rio to open his eyes. “If you regret it…if you didn’t want to do it…why did you kill them?”

Rio didn’t answer right away, but when he did a moment later, the night closed in around them and Creed felt cold. 

“Because I was hungry.”