Entanglement

by Drue M Scott

  “Not ordering Malachi, asking with desperation.” Mathieu, the only one in the room not cowering at the sight of a 10-foot tall, angered man, stepped closer. “You know my quest is valid, my heart true, and my loyalty to our agreement unbreakable.”

  Concern for what Mathieu meant by “agreement,” flooded Lucas, and he leapt forward to stand by his friend, shoulder-to-shoulder. “What agreement did you make?’ Whispering to Mathieu as though Malachi couldn’t hear what he said, Lucas bowed his head in respect.

  “There are not words enough to thank you for the many things that you have done for me.” Gesturing outward to all present, Mathieu maintained eye contact with Malachi. “For all of us. But we need a break Malachi. We have all lost so much. Jacob has killed many this evening and gains power enough to rival yours. The evil in him, and that he serves, plans to kill us all.”

  His pleas to Malachi soften the giant’s composure.

  “We fight to keep the balance, not tilt it in any favor of one.” His words began to break under the stress of what he felt. “I’m sure you’ve sensed this man’s energy and learned his story.” Pointing to Mikale, he continued. “Shouldn’t we stop Devin and Jacob from seriously fucking up the balance? And in doing so, why would it be so bad to bring Brennan back from the hell he has endured?” Malachi, returning to normal size, stepped closer as Mathieu spoke. “I have only ever asked for a chance to right the wrong done to Aiden. I understood that in the end that meant I would have to die, too, but Mikale and Jason were only…”

  “Pawns.” Mikale interrupted stepping closer still to Malachi causing his paper hospital gown to fully open in the back. “What would be the harm in simply explaining what we might do to fix all that has been broken so we may take an active role in our own fates?” Fumbling behind himself trying to re-secure his coverings, Mikale took one pace back. “Is that not helping to maintain the balance?”

  “I cannot offer you the definitive resolution to the quandary before you,” Malachi, sounding his normal self, spoke. “But what I can offer you is this.” Smiling he tuned to face Mikale fully. His graceful movements carried a peaceful essence back into the room. “It is up to Brennan if he wishes to remain among the living, and so too, it is Jason’s choice if he remains on Earth or returns to Idir. But the consequences that have already begun to play out will have to run their course.” Tapping Mikale softly on the chest just over his heart, Malachi smiled. “Devin isn’t the adversary that you all believe him to be. But, even if he were, he can be defeated by the entity seeking refuge within Stewart, who hides within you.” A small zap of energy jumped from Malachi’s finger blending into Mikale’s aura. “Your friend hides so as to not face a great sorrow of his own. You two should consider what has been before your very eyes since the beginning of your troubles. Do not forget your greatest power has always been, and will always be, love.” Turning his gaze to Mathieu and Lucas, Malachi postured as though he sighed. It was a gesture of appearing more human. “Jacob is nothing more than protean energy housed within a vessel not suited for such volatility. His evilness stems from giving up one addiction for another. Be certain of your assumptions about him, though. I imagine anyone with that much stolen power and that broken of a mind does not follow orders outside of what suits that person’s own best interests. And do not forget, your hate of this man weakens your own soul.” Sadness washed over his expressions. “Your capacity for affection will suffer the longer you entertain the hate within you. It will prevent you from feeling love, remembering the love you had, and recognizing the love you have beside you.” Stepping in to kiss Mathieu, he straightened his shoulders back. “You believe yourself innocent in the things you are guilty of and guilty in the happenings you are well and truly innocent in.” Prolonging the presence of his lips to Mathieu’s, Malachi whispered to his fiend’s soul. “Resolving the conflict born from Aiden’s death does not mean you have to die. It was your actions that took his life, but his life was already being stolen from him. You saved the part of him that was all that remained to be saved.” Lifting himself from their kiss, he spoke audibly again. “You’ve convinced yourself, however, that you are faultless in the breaking of our agreement, but you broke it when you revealed the skills I taught you.” The reality of what he spoke hurt both of them. “I am not without guilt in this. I broke the rules for you back then; I’ve bent them for you several times since, however, I cannot break them any longer. The repercussions could alter the costs of the outcome far greater than the damage currently being done. That which must turn left, will always turn left, regardless how many times it is spun or encouraged to go right.” Malachi hesitated tilting his head to one side. “Everyone here has made choices that have consequences. There is nothing in the universe that can alter those. I have delayed them,” bringing his head fully upright, “I may have even lessened the severity of them, subjectively speaking, but they will happen.”

  Mathieu’s heart was heavy under the truth of Malachi’s words. “I am sorry. I couldn’t stand by and let this young man die because of Jacob.” Lifting his arm in the direction of Mikale, he attempted to draw Malachi’s attention to his new friend.

  “That decision was not yours to make.”

  “There is where I disagree with you, my friend. I was the only one able to make that decision.” Standing fully erect, Mathieu declared with pride. “Having the power to affect another human in that person’s time of need, and not acting on it, is by its very nature feeding the negative in this world. And goddamnit we have enough negative already.”

  Nodding his agreement with Mathieu, Lucas felt remorse well up within him. Though his friend did not mention him by name, he knew, at least in part, Mathieu’s words were meant for him. I should have helped Aiden. Tears born of his own guilt slowly worked their way down his face. Why was I so selfish?

  “I cannot, nor will I, argue about the actions I have taken,” Malachi politely spoke. Despite the calmness in his words, the insistent nature of what he said was clear. , “but, your point is valid, and I will not stand in the way of whatever direction you choose to pursue.” Dividing himself to stand before all three men, his demeanor changed to contented satisfaction. “Should physical death find you during your pursuit, and I be your guide, we will meet as friends. Of this, you can trust completely.” Hugging each of them he smiled. “Do not fear the outcome because it is already set. Rather, I would suggest, find peace in the decisions you’ve made and find reconciliation with those you hold dear.” As three separate beings Malachi appeared ghost-like but solid enough to physically interact with. “There will be more losses. Some may hurt more than others but hold to whatever truths give your souls solace for they will guide your paths.” Blending himself back to a single being, he began to fade. “In the events to come, however, I can offer you no more.” As his form completely disappeared from sight, the essence of Malachi, that which had made the room feel less morose, faded quickly.

  The Theatrics of Killing the World

  Despite being gagged, the red-headed runner’s screams could be heard easily. Devin knew what Jacob was doing to the man had to be viciously grotesque. The idea of how terrible it was thrilled him, and he couldn’t bear to not witness it any longer. Shuffling into the room, he gazed upon the morbid sight of Jacob pinning the man’s legs in positions normal anatomy would not have allowed. Blood steamed steadily from several wounds that appeared to be bite marks. The twin bed rattled violently as it hit the wall in rhythmic timing to each of Jacob’s thrusts. Nothing could be done to any shell or soul that Devin would find to be shocking, but his own preferences in torture and death rarely involved the depravity he witnessed in the acts that Jacob assault the ginger runner with. How does one concoct such ideas as this? Mild disbelief that he had instigated Jacob’s downward spiral into what he had become struck Devin for the briefest of moments. Likened to remorse, it was born of Brennan’s mind, Devin knew the feeling, and it reminded him of humanity, something he had been lacking for years uncounted.
As quickly as it had arrived, it was replaced. Seeing the victim’s life-force filtering away from its body, Devin’s lust for power shook off Brennan’s influence as a passing moment of weakness. Knowing his own energy would take far too long to recoup, and the execution of his plan was steadily drawing nearer, he sneakily moved in and laid his hands flat upon the dying man’s chest. Stealing up the other’s energy, his own form fluctuated in moments of excess and nothingness as shades of blue and muted white filtered in and out of his connection to the bloody figure. Anger flashed upon Jacob’s face.

  “Mother. Fucker!” Pushing himself off the ginger man and shoving Devin, who began to look more like Brennan, Jacob shouted. “Just what the fucking hell do you think you are doing?”

  Swiftly flooded with angered energy, Devin spat back. “Do not think you can so blithely shove and speak.” Pausing monetarily to steady his feet on the dirty wood plank floor, Devin felt his own essence give way to Brennan again. “I am…” Shaking his head in an attempt to knock Brennan free of his thoughts, “I can…”

  “You can fucking sit down.” Pulling a chair from the corner of the room with a snap of his fingers, Jacob shot up to a full stance. His dick still hard, and as blood dripped down from his lips, he laughed. “I’m no longer the weakest link in the chain.”

  Devin couldn’t break free of Brennan’s presence pushing against his psyche.

  “Did you honestly believe that I could amass such power…?” Rolling each of his fingers over his thumb sparking blue light from them Jacob moved closer to Devin who now appeared fully as Brennan. “… and just simply follow your stupid plan?” Forcing Brennan to the chair, he continued. “Sure, I’ll play along with your fucking plot to kill Mikale and whoever else shows up, but get this straight…” Leaning down, Jacob placed his hands to the arms of the lacquered wooden chair. Pushing his face in so close as to be sure Brennan could feel his breath upon his lips, Jacob whispered. “I’m killing everyone present, including you, and taking all the power.”

  Regardless of his effort, no response made its way to Brennan’s mouth. His mind fought feverishly with Devin for control incapacitating them both.

  Licking Brennan’s lips softly, Jacob let go of the chair and placed his right hand firmly to his softening penis. “I intend to take back what you stole.” Stroking himself slowly, he inched tighter toward Brennan. “I’d kill you now if it wasn’t for the fact that killing you in front of your loser friends gives me pleasure.” Ripping Brennan’s shirt open exposing his bare chest, Jacob forced his new captive’s head upward to stare him directly in the eyes. “You still in there Devin?” Questioning despite knowing the answer, he scoffed. “I thought you were the strong one. I thought I had to do what you said. You had me believing that I needed you. How foolish was that?” The energetic pace at which he pleasured himself sickened both Brennan and Devin. “But one thing you did teach me though, and oh, you taught me well, was to look out for myself.” His muscles tightened under the approaching climax. His abdomen flexed and biceps thickened. His eyes sparked blue as they rolled back in pleasure. “Now the student has become the master.” Leaning down to kiss Brennan, he moaned. “You really should have taken more energy for yourself, maybe then one of you could have challenged me.” Grasping Brennan firmly by the back of his head, Jacob forced his captive to stare directly at his throbbing privates. “Trust me, you’re gonna want to see this.” Finishing the moment with a loud groan of pleasure and an explosion of sticky fluids to Brennan’s bare skinned chest, he laughed manically. “Things are about to get really fucked up in here.” Jacob quickly bent over and began licking his way upwards from Brennan’s navel to his neck, stealing energy along the way and savoring the taste of himself. Swallowing deeply in mock pleasure of the disgust he saw in Brennan’s face, Jacob moved in tight to his captive’s left ear. “Devin, or Brennan, or whoever the fuck you are, just know this,” softening his voice to a raspy whisper, “I’m going to tear your soul apart.” Shoving the shocked and weakened man back, Jacob flexed his muscles tightly. Each ripple of energy sent racing to every fiber in his physical body surged with a blue ripple across his flesh. His height increased in time with his laughter. The once emotionally weak and heroin dependent man became the monster Devin had intended and now feared. “Bet you didn’t see this turn of events, did you, master?” Jacob’s snarky question accompanied with his air quotes seemed more like the Devin of before; twisted, malice-driven, and wholly insane. “It must really suck knowing that you’re so impotent.” His laughed echoed painfully in the confines of the small one-bedroom apartment. “Twice your devilish plans have wrought outcomes different than envisioned.” His nakedness was exceedingly beautiful and utterly terrifying at the same time. “Your need to settle a score with those weaklings has cost you the game.” Arching his back purposely thrusting his hips forward and puffing his chest, he dropped his tone, smiling at the sight of his naked form. “Yours will be a death swift and painless though,” lowering his voice further as he moved to lift Brennan from the chair, he snarled, “you should say ‘thank you.’” He pulled Brennan closer to his face, “It’s my way of thanking you for giving me this.” Dropping Devin/Brennan from his grasp, Jacob outstretched his arms and tilted his head to one side. Crossing one foot on top of the other he exhaled noisily, “It is done”. Sweat, droplets of blood, and other body fluids glistened as sparkling embers of unnatural light over his entire body. His mock messiah impersonation was grotesque despite his form being pleasing to the eye.

  “You are…” Brennan could feel Devin within him trying to communicate. Neither could find the strength to add sound to the words they wanted to speak.

  “I am GOD!” Jacob shouted. His voice rattled the flimsy walls of the apartment home and shattered the windows of all the units on the second floor. “GOOOOOOOD!” The entire building crumbled inward caving in on them both as Jacob flexed his biceps and balled his fists. The three-story, 15-unit building was the largest of the six in the complex. Despite its size, it broke apart and imploded with ease under Jacob’s anger-filled scream. The echo of his voice, and the destruction of the building rang out in every direction for miles.

  Sudden heavy pain bore down on Brennan’s chest making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Heat pulsed through his body, but he couldn’t really be sure it was his body. He fought against Devin’s hate within him. Jason fought to remain separate from them both. The three were locked in a battle that raged relentlessly, rendering them all powerless. Stuck beneath pounds of splintered wood and stucco, they struggled against themselves, against each other, and against the physical death that drew ever nearer.

  ##

  “It’s time.” Mathieu looked to Mikale as they both stood motionless on the Golden Gate Bridge admiring the breadth and beauty of what surrounded them. Mathieu was stoic and statue-like with an outward strength of confidence that was a façade. His chest pushed tightly against his black T, and with one hand in his jean’s pocket and the other on the railing, he could have been mistaken for a model posing for a fledgling photographer. The day was drawing to a close, and the sun began to lend a golden hue to the world around them. And though it cast both men in silhouette, it shadowed Mikale a bit more. Intermixed with the vermilion orange of the bridge’s structure, the muted gold of the sunset, and the two men’s anxiousness, the whole setting felt abstract, just outside the borders of reality. Heaviness weighed in the cool air, and dampness lingered around them. The cars flying by, some much faster than others, seemed to part the thick atmosphere, cutting through it as sailboats through calm waters.

  “We agree that this is a trap, right?” Mikale’s brokenness and fear caused his words to shake almost as much as his hands. “Devin is not going to give up Brennan and Jason this easily.” Placing his right hand over his left on the sidewalk railing, Mikale attempted to conceal the shake.

  “I’m not totally sure that Devin is the one we really need to be concerned with,” Mathieu sighed while lifting his free hand
to run it through Mikale’s hair. Pulling him into a tight and powerful hug, he continued. “I get the feeling things are about to take a turn for something different.” The fear he knew what was to come skillfully broke past his composure and could be felt by his new friend in the shiver that was far more pronounced than what the cool wind blowing across the bridge could have caused. But for Mikale, Mathieu’s embrace was warm and welcoming. “For better or for worse, our decisions have been placed before us, and we need to end this tonight.” His words sounded to him like Malachi was speaking through him. He didn’t mean for it to be so, but it was the only thing that brought any peace to his turmoil-ridden thoughts.

  Mathieu’s strength and flexed muscles beneath the tight black shirt he wore comforted Mikale. Stewart’s presence had always been enough for him, but the physical contact with another man, a man he found attractive, stirred within him all that he had been depriving himself of since losing Jason, his perfect Ken. With his head comfortably nestled into Mathieu’s shoulder and their bodies pressed tightly together, Mikale could almost imagine getting lost within the embrace. “This is better for us, isn’t it?” Mikale couldn’t help but query hating that he had to give up the moment. You’re getting hard, Mikale. Seriously, with all the shit that is going on and you’re sprouting a… “I mean, Jacob is the weaker of them, isn’t he?” Ignoring Stewart, Mikale posed a question he already knew the answer to. His mind wandered to the handsomeness of Mathieu. He smells good, doesn’t he? Quizzing Stewart as a means to gain some agreement or excuse to his arousal in such an awkward moment, Mikale stiffened his muscles beneath Mathieu’s hug.

  Letting go of his friend, his comrade in the battle to come, Mathieu exhaled deeply. “I don’t think either of them is weak, but Jacob is far more unpredictable than Devin.” Taking a full step back from Mikale, Mathieu dropped his shoulders in preemptive defeat, and though he had noticed Mikale’s growth, he ignored it. “His instability presents challenges that we cannot plan for,” second guessing his posture, Mathieu lifted his voice with his shoulders “but that does not mean we can’t still take the fight.”