by Quil Carter
There was nothing left inside of that vial for him to take, even though Lex had obviously been able to extract something, it wouldn’t be enough to quell the teeth currently gnashing at the grey matter. He was fucked, and he knew there would be no letters and vials on his doorstep this time.
But that walk in the moonlight? A shiver went up Sasha’s spine as he thought about that note, however fear quickly replaced it. He pushed the thought away and instead started to unwrap the bandage on his arm. When the row of inflamed stitches were exposed, Sasha snipped one of them off with small scissors and put the wound to his mouth.
He knew it wouldn’t work, but right now he felt compelled to try, and to feel some pain as well. Pain helped, it numbed him to everything else, including the pounding in his head.
Sasha’s teeth nipped the wound, and soon he was leaning back in bed, sucking the blood out of his arm.
Lex was no longer knocking on his door; he had some peace and quiet. Sasha guessed that Lex and Tom were talking about him, going over all the underhanded ways they’ll be force-feeding him the anti-psychotics.
Sasha closed his eyes, but in the silence of the room his mind travelled and took him to places he didn’t want it to go. Why the fuck did he tell that shit to Lex and Tom? Not only did they still think he was insane, they thought he was… whatever someone who drank stranger’s cum was.
Besides a hooker.
If he wasn’t feeling like utter garbage, Sasha would’ve laughed at his own joke. There was only pain and misery inside of him, two monsters that had made nice little nests inside of his brain.
Sasha continued to suck the blood out of his arm, but just as he feared, nothing was happening. Whatever curing effects it once had, were gone now. Did he build up a tolerance or something? Maybe that’s why they needed his…
And Sasha needed them.
They would understand me… Sasha said to himself. They wouldn’t think I was insane, unlike everyone else.
Then, while Sasha was deep inside of his own mind, there was a sudden flash––someone had turned on the bedroom light.
“What the fuck?!”
Sasha quickly took his arm out of his mouth and sat up, only to see Jobe staring at him with the same expression of horror that Lex and Tom had both had. He was standing by the door, seemingly stunned into a stupor, his mouth open and his finger still on the light switch.
“Get the fuck out!” Sasha exclaimed. He scrambled to his feet. “You can’t just barge in here. This is my fucking bedroom.”
The shocked look on Jobe’s face suddenly drained away, and in its place, came annoyance. “Why the hell…. HOLY SHIT!” Jobe’s eyes fixed on Sasha’s bleeding arm. “You’ve… been chewing off your stitches…? Look at it, it’s fucking inflamed. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jobe tried to grab Sasha’s arm but he wrenched it back.
“Get out of my room. I have a migraine and you guys are making it worse,” Sasha snapped. And on that cue, his head gave a painful pang. “Just leave me alone.”
Jobe kept staring at Sasha’s injured arm. “You’re… continuing to cut yourself. It’s getting even worse than last year. That… that knife wound is really bad, Sash.” He glanced behind his shoulder, and at this, Sasha got suspicious.
“They’re in my fucking apartment, aren’t they?” Sasha said lowly. He pushed past Jobe and saw Lex and Tom both standing in his living room––Tom was on his phone.
And when Tom saw Sasha emerge, he turned away from him, the cellphone still being held to his ear.
Lex however, just stared, and Sasha knew why when he passed his hallway mirror and saw the blood smudged on his chin and lips.
This… yeah, this probably looked really really bad to them.
Sure enough, a hand was put on his shoulder. “Sasha…” Jobe said behind him. “We need to talk to you about something.”
Sasha lowered his head and walked into the kitchen. He made himself busy grabbing a can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stood in the kitchen. “I just want to be left alone,” he said, staring at the checkered linoleum. “You’re all stressing me out… you want me to feel better then just leave me alone.”
“We’re worried about you, baby,” Jobe said, his voice choked. Sasha felt a swell of embarrassment when he realized Jobe was losing his composure, and it only increased when the expression on Lex’s face got all the more devastating.
They really thought he was nuts.
‘And why wouldn’t they?’ the voice mused, heavy with deprecation. ‘In their eyes, you’re just some fucked up, cum and blood-drinking, masochistic nutjob.’
“Shut up!” Sasha yelled before he could stop himself, then his attention turned to Tom. The psychiatrist was saying something to Lex in a low tone. “Get the hell out of my apartment. I pay rent, this is legally mine and if… if you don’t leave I’m calling the police.”
Tom slipped his cellphone into his blazer pocket. “We’ve already called the police, Sasha,” he said calmly.
All the colour felt like it was draining from Sasha’s face. He took a step back. “W-what?” he whispered. Sasha scanned the three faces in front of him and saw nothing that suggested Tom’s words were false. They all looked terrified, in emotional agony…
“Why?” Sasha stammered.
The voice inside of his head laughed loudly at this, before filling his head with reason after reason.
And there were a lot of reasons.
“We think you’re a danger to yourself, Sasha,” Lex said. “And… you need more help than we can offer you. Sasha, the – this is the last straw. I’m sorry, bug.”
“I’m nineteen, you can’t make me go anywhere…” Sasha whispered. His heart was pounding, slamming against his chest so hard it was as if Lex’s words had injected meth into an artery. There was so much fear going through him in that moment, he felt dizzy. “You can’t force me.”
“It’s a 5150 psychiatric hold, Sasha,” Tom explained. “It’s a seventy-two hour hold for anyone who is seen as a danger to themselves. There are no age restrictions.”
Sasha took another step back, and when Jobe took one forward, Sasha held up both hands. “Don’t come near me,” he whispered. “None of you fucking traitors come near me. I… I fucking have proof that they exist. I’m not crazy and if one of you fucking clowns would just–”
“Sasha, just stop!” Jobe cried. He put his hands to the back of his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, tears could be seen forming in the corners. “Baby, you need help and you know you need help. Just… they’ll be here soon. Please, please come sit on the couch with me until they come.”
They’ll be here soon? Sasha took another step backwards and he felt his back brush against the entrance door’s cold metal. The cops are fucking coming for me?
That… wasn’t going to happen. There may be a lot of things happening in that moment, a lot of bad shit… but if there was one thing that Sasha knew was the truth––it was that no fucking bunch of cops were going to take him to the nut house, seventy-two hour hold or not.
Sasha gave the three of them one last look, before he opened the door… and bolted out of it.
And, boy, did he run fast.
“SASHA!” Jobe’s anguished voice screamed. Sasha ignored it and sped towards the driveway. He was only wearing socks, no jacket, no shoes; the only thing he had on him were his boxer pants and a t-shirt.
Sasha ran down the driveway and dashed across the road. He then sped through his neighbour’s yard and along the corner of their house, and when he got to the next road, he looked from left to right.
When he looked to the right, his heart shuddered. There was a parcel of forest in that direction, the Beaver Lodge Lands. It was a place where people walked their dogs or just enjoyed nature, there were many trails leading in all directions.
A walk in the moonlight… a walk in the forest, but on a trail this time, not on a road.
Suddenly, a voice inside of his head, one that sounded… familiar.
‘Go.’
Sasha stopped in his tracks, his chest heaving. “Who are you?” he whispered.
‘They’re coming––Run.’
The voice was urgent, but there was also a sense of… strength to it, one that Sasha immediately responded to.
So, with a nod, Sasha turned and ran towards the forest. He kept himself on the sidewalk and the several times that a vehicle did drive by, he hid along the side of whatever house he was passing. The cold was beginning to seep into his skin, the heat created from his initial escape dissipating on the chilly night air. What he was going to do tonight, he didn’t know, all Sasha knew was that he couldn’t go back home.
Sasha wrapped his arms around his chest to try and conserve the body heat that he had and continued walking. This was a quiet street at least, but he still kept his ears taxed for any sounds that were out of place, and every ten seconds he looked behind his shoulder for headlights.
Several minutes later, a check behind his shoulder revealed a vehicle coming towards him. A jolt of fear injected fresh adrenaline into his veins, and quickly, Sasha dashed onto the front yard of a house he was passing and scrunched himself against the wooden exterior. His breathing was ragged at this point and his lungs burning from the strain, but that was just more discomfort to add to the myriad of sensations currently hitting him. His socks were damp and stinging his soles, and his feet were screaming in pain and tender. Living a life indoors had made his feet sensitive, and even the smallest rock had his knees buckling in pain, threatening to spill him onto the ground.
But it was nothing compared to living a life in a white padded room, so Sasha endured, and watched the truck pass him to the beat of his throbbing head.
Once he deemed it safe, Sasha began to walk back to the road. By now, the migraine felt like it had its own heartbeat, it had tripled in strength since fleeing from his home, with no intentions of stopping.
Sasha’s lips pursed and his eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. He didn’t want to give those traitors the satisfaction of knowing just how much they’d hurt him.
How could they do this to him? How the fuck could they betray him like this? Those three fucks pressed him to tell them what was wrong, and when he does, they call the cops to fucking cart him off for a seventy-two-hour hold?
I trusted them… I trusted Lex. I trusted Jobe.
A whimper broke Sasha’s lips. He bit them, trying to swallow down the mounting despair, but it was no use.
There was never any use. They’d eventually find him… and it would be worse now, so much worse.
The despair came quickly and swiftly, coating Sasha like a cold blanket. There was no hope inside of him, no future that wasn’t filled with misery. What the fuck was the point in even living? Not only was he crippled from these headaches, but not a single person, even the two men that he loved and trusted the most, believed him.
Lex and Jobe… they’d be better off without him. And even if they’re not, Sasha was just tired of living this horrible excuse for a life.
What’s the point?
Sasha wiped his nose and began walking down the house’s gravelly driveway, the pain in his feet outmatched only by the agonizing migraine currently making flashes of light stick to the corners of his eyes.
Then, movement. Sasha’s attention snapped back to reality and he audibly gasped.
The truck that had just passed him… the break lights were bathing the road in red as it reversed towards the driveway Sasha was walking down.
Sasha didn’t recognize it. He’d never seen that truck before in his life.
Then, as Sasha stared in shock, both feet glued to the rocky pavement of the driveway, the truck stopped––and the driver’s side door opened.
A man then stepped out, and walked along the front of the truck, his shrouded figure catching the amber glow of a streetlight.
And in that yellow-hued lighting, Sasha saw that it was a man with short black hair, a lean and fit body, wearing a long black overcoat that was belted at the waist.
The man looked up, and Sasha gasped.
Kheva.
It was fucking Kheva.
The man’s eyes flickered up and locked with Sasha’s. “They’re right behind us, nightcrawler,” Kheva said, a wan smile spread across an intimidating face. Sasha had never seen anyone that looked quite like him. From his short black hair with a slight wave, to his full pink lips, and defined cheekbone––He almost seemed too perfect to be real. “And they’re only coming closer.” Kheva looked down the road, and Sasha did too.
Just in time to see a police cruiser slowly turn down the very street Sasha was on.
Sasha took in a sharp breath, and at this visceral reaction, Kheva’s closed-lip smile curled. “Are you coming?” the mysterious man asked, his green-gold eyes flashing. There was something about those eyes, they seemed so… alive, so vibrant. Like he had the energy of a thousand lives behind them.
They weren’t dead like Sasha’s.
“I have been watching you for quite some time, Sasha,” Kheva said. He walked up to Sasha and held out his hand. He was extremely well-kept, his eyebrows were plucked and shaped, his teeth white, and as he approached, Sasha could smell a faint pleasant aroma, one he couldn’t put his finger on. “Come with me.”
Sasha looked down at Kheva’s extended hand; smooth and flawless, his nails clean and trimmed. He was a god stretching out his hand to touch living filth, a miserable, dirty creature that wallowed in sorrow and despair.
And the sullied creature only stared back, timid and unsure, a rabbit cautious towards the fox who’d just offered him safe passage to the other side of a raging river.
Go with him?
Go with some guy I don’t know?
‘No, you’re going with the first man to understand you,’ the voice he’d heard previously whispered; his tone was quiet and gentle, yet strong enough to be magnetizing.
Kheva then grasped Sasha’s hand, and held it firmly in his own. The first solid thing he’d encountered in quite a while.
Sasha stared down at it. Go with him…?
Then, feeling as if he was being watched, Sasha looked towards the road. His temperature dropped when he saw the police cruiser steadily coming closer, now only two blocks away.
What choice do I have?
Oh, who am I kidding? The moment I realized who’d stepped out of that truck, I was his for the taking.
“Okay,” Sasha whispered. He nodded and squeezed Kheva’s hand. “Take me with you.”
Those two strangely-coloured eyes flared, before squinting from the half-smile. Kheva squeezed back, then raised a second hand to Sasha’s face, and rested it against his cheek.
And not for a moment did Sasha flinch away.
He seemed… almost captivated.
“Welcome to your new life, nightcrawler,” Kheva whispered, his strange eyes staring deeply into Sasha’s own. They were so piercing, like they weren’t just looking at Sasha, but past him… deep inside of him.
Then Kheva turned around, their hands firmly locked, and led Sasha to the truck. “Sit up front. You will be free of the shackles that have bound you soon enough.”
CHAPTER 8
“Who are you?” Sasha asked. He turned from the truck’s window, the streetlights they were passing illuminating Kheva’s face as he drove. Sasha had only seen Kheva in darkness and even now he was in shadow. From what Sasha could see though, Kheva was handsome. He had a firm jaw and pale, flawless skin, curved eyebrows, and those eyes… those strange, glaringly bright eyes.
Kheva turned down the empty road towards the Inland Highway, the quickest way out of town. Sasha was surprised that he felt no anxiety at this, there was zero apprehension. On the contrary… he was excited.
He was in the same vehicle as the man who jumped him, and he was feeling okay.
How insane was that?
“You know my name already,” Kheva replied. His voice was deep and gravelly, self-assured and calm.
“I’m Kheva, Kheva Swift. What else would you like to know?”
“Where’s… the other one?” Sasha asked slowly.
“I’m right here,” a voice suddenly sounded behind Sasha.
Sasha whirled around, the suddenness of it making his heart jolt, and saw Kel sitting quietly in the backseat of the truck, an innocent look on his face. A thinner face than Kheva’s, with large blue eyes, a pointed chin, and full lips that held no hint of laughing at Sasha’s shock.
Then, to punish him for not only the quick movement, but being frightened in the first place, Sasha’s head pulsed with pain, this one feeling like small shocks of electricity were being injected into his brain.
Sasha held his head and closed his eyes. “Sorry…” Sasha murmured. “It’s… a bad one.”
“Yes.” Kheva’s tone dropped. “It will be difficult to speak when you’re in such pain. Keluva?”
At this, Sasha opened his eyes and turned around. He stared in shock when Kel took out a long thin knife from his black coat, similar to what Kheva was wearing.
It was… the same knife that they’d used on him.
“Master?” Kel said in an asking tone.
“Yes, you may,” was Kheva’s reply. Sasha didn’t know what this was about, but it became apparent a moment later when Kel sat up and crawled over the front seats of the truck, then sat down in between Sasha and Kheva.
Kel gave Sasha a sunny smile before, in a calm fashion that was kind of alarming, he cut a few inches below his wrist, then turned his hand palm up. The wound became white for several moments, before the laceration began to fill with blood.
Kel held out his arm to Sasha, right near his mouth.
Sasha stared at it. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, and yet Kel was looking at him like he was expecting him to know already.
“Kel, he doesn’t know our ways,” Kheva said behind Kel. “He’s probably only recently figured out how we need each other. Is this correct, Sasha?”