by Quil Carter
And maybe that was a big reason why he decided to engage Kheva. He’d already hit his lowest possible point, the lowest of the low, and quite frankly, he just didn’t have it in him to care what the repercussions could be. Nothing mattered.
“Master Kheva,” Sasha said. He rubbed his nose before stuffing his hand back into his pocket. “May I ask you something?” The smell of hot feathers soaked into the humid air. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant smell and also one Sasha knew he’d never forget.
“Yes,” Kheva replied. The man was an enigma in himself, but one thing was certain, Kheva wasn’t the type of person to say needless words. He was straight to the point and blunt, someone who didn’t give bullshit and certainly would never take it.
“What can I do to be allowed to sleep inside?” Sasha asked. “What can I do… to get you guys to accept me? Train me? Maybe not… hate me so much.”
Sasha looked to the lake as the last syllable left his lips, still and peaceful, with a modest dock at the end of a gravel path. There was a rowboat tied up to that dock, Kel had said more than once that he couldn’t wait to take him fishing. Fishing? No, I feel like tying a rock around my neck and jumping in.
“You think your training hasn’t began? Interesting,” Kheva murmured, his comment making Sasha scowl. “Because of your disappointingly weak state, I was holding off inviting you to sleep underneath my roof. But if you insist, nightcrawler, tonight you will sleep with us.”
Sasha’s eyes shot from the lake to Kheva. “Really?” he said. He tried not to make his voice sound so pathetic but there was no use to it. Even the quickest of pats meant everything to an abandoned, half-starved dog. “Thank you, Master Kheva.” Sasha’s voice cracked. “I…” He broke away from Kheva’s gaze and stared at his sandals, courtesy of Kel. “I just want to belong, you know? This… hasn’t…” Sasha looked up and his eyes widened when he saw Kheva walk towards him, the soaked chicken now resting beside the campfire stove. He resisted taking a step back.
Kheva stopped when he was only half a foot from Sasha, and the man who towered over everyone, glared down at him. He had blood sprinkled on his face, and below his lips it was smeared, most likely from a wandering tongue.
Then the edges of his mouth rose, and Kheva’s hand rose with it. He placed it on Sasha’s cheek, now prickly from not shaving in almost a week, and stroked the stubble with his thumb.
“You will join us for dinner tonight,” Kheva said. “Yes…” The smirk vanished as quickly as it came, and in its place a placid look emerged. It held only neutrality, and yet it made Sasha’s blood run cold. “Yes, if you believe you’re ready. Are you ready, nightcrawler?”
And just like that, the cold blood coursing through Sasha’s veins began to form ice crystals, before freezing altogether. “Ready for what?” he whispered.
Suddenly, Kheva’s face split into a grin. Sasha’s eyes widened, never once since he’d met this strange man had he seen him smile like this. It flooded Sasha with dread, and he immediately regretted talking to him, and even more so, asking to sleep indoors. He stared back at Kheva and swallowed hard. That smile was evil… he was fucking evil.
“Actually… forget it,” Sasha stammered, his bravery slipping. He tried to turn away, unable to continue looking at that twisted smile, but he couldn’t move. “I – I’ll sleep outside. It’s okay.”
“Oh… no you won’t,” Kheva whispered. He caressed Sasha’s face, the same gentle strokes he used when he was comforting the scared chicken. “You’ll be sleeping under my roof tonight, and all nights from now on. You will join us for dinner as well.”
Sasha’s resolve crumpled and the instinct of self-preservation did as well. Beaten down and depressed, Sasha nodded, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own defeat was bogging them down.
“Sometimes the house is in such disrepair… that you must strip it to its foundation,” Kheva suddenly whispered. Sasha looked to him and saw that the grin was gone. There was no expression on his face, yet his eyes spoke a thousand dark emotions. “Your foundation is of a nightcrawler, so I know its contents. What derelict house was built on top of it means nothing now. In your state, you are a pathetic creature, a sad excuse for a human and a nightcrawler.”
Tears burned Sasha’s eyes, he turned around to leave, unable to stand any more, but Kheva grabbed his shoulder. “I am going to burn you to the ground, Sasha Zakharin. But I will rebuild what I destroy.” Kheva’s hand slipped from Sasha’s shoulder. “Prepare yourself.”
Sasha stared at the house in front of him, his mind unable to fully process just what Kheva had said to him. He was still standing where Kheva’s words had left him when the Master walked past, the chicken clutched in his hand.
“Shower and shave, nightcrawler,” Kheva called, his boots crunching on the gravel. “And do look in the mirror while you do.” Kheva turned around and smiled. “Soon, you won’t even recognize yourself.”
Sasha walked along the house towards Kel’s berry garden. His mind was an frantic swarm of wasps, ones that stung him whenever he dared try to pick apart Kheva’s unsettling words. There were so many things to be scared of, he didn’t even know what one to concentrate on first.
What had Kheva meant? He’d said so many fucked up things, and each one seemed to confuse Sasha more than the last. What did Kheva mean burn him to the ground? Strip him to his foundation? He already felt empty and dead inside; how can you burn to the ground what is already ash and cinders? Kheva seemed so sure when he spoke those almost poetic words, and yet he didn’t seem to know that Sasha was already destroyed.
The fact that Sasha wasn’t even excited about dinner, the first actual meal he’d had in two days, went to show how preoccupied his mind was. The terror that Kheva brought had quelled the relentless gnawing, but those gnashing teeth hadn’t disappeared, they’d only moved to a new part of his body, and there it fed upon the necrotic flesh.
Sasha reached the end of the house and walked out into the field. He looked up and saw Kel holding the shovel… he was smashing it against the ground as if killing something.
Sasha groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. He’d completely forgotten Kel’s drink.
Kel spotted him and held up the shovel.
“Ladybugs!” he exclaimed as he wiped his brow. But then he frowned. “Lemonade? Frozen strawberries?” Kel tilted his head to the side and stared at Sasha.
“I know, I know… I’m sorry,” Sasha said. “Kheva and I ended up talking. I completely forgot, I’m sorry.”
Kel continued staring, before, with a sweeping motion, he raised the shovel and swung it at Sasha.
Sasha held up his hands in defence but the shovel still made contact with his shoulder. Sasha yelped and jumped back, then grabbed his shoulder as the shock wore off and the pain flooded him with full force.
He rubbed the aching wound, the throbbing now in sync with the headache that was still hammering his skull, and looked accusingly at Kel. “I was talking to your master!” Sasha shot back, the pain making the words come automatically, almost like one would swear after stubbing their toe.
Kel’s eyes widened, just as Sasha was clamping his mouth shut, swearing under his breath and cursing his own stupid impulses.
“Don’t talk back to me,” Kel whispered sharply. “I’m your master too.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Kel flipped the shovel so he was brandishing the handle of it. Sasha flinched at this, waiting for Kel to attack him again. “…didn’t mean to. I…”
Kel swung the handle of the shovel, and this time it connected with Sasha’s head. Bright lights and stars burst in front of his vision, and he stumbled to the side before falling to the ground.
“I’m your master too, and if I want to hit you I can! Don’t talk back to me, you little worm!”
Sasha cried out when he felt a hard impact hit his hip bone, then again when the shovel’s handle struck his arm. He curled up, his face in his arm as he tried to protect his head as much as he
could, and he screamed.
“I’m sorry!” Sasha cried. “I’m fucking sorry.”
One more strike was delivered, this one on his thigh, then Kel stopped. The shovel could be heard dropping to the ground, then Sasha was grabbed and pulled to his feet.
Kel supported him as Sasha trembled in his hold, and to his bewilderment, Kel took him into his arms and hugged him to his chest. Sasha, wide eyed, stared out into the field, too shocked by what had just happened to make any movement.
“Good boy, Sashy Nightcrawler,” Kel said softly. “Good boy.” He took Sasha’s hand and began leading him towards the house. “Time for washing, then time for dinner.”
Kel knew what he and Kheva had talked about? Sasha didn’t dwell on this for long. He already knew that their minds could connect, and the strength of Kel and Kheva’s mental connection was probably as strong as diamond.
Sasha went with him, his body and his head relentlessly assaulting him with wave after wave of pain. Every step was difficult, not just because of the pain making his world tilt and turn, but the shock of what Kel had done had made his body shake so hard his breathing kept catching in his throat. He didn’t know how he hadn’t succumbed to a panic attack yet, but he knew that he was edging the danger zones of what his mind could mentally handle.
Actually, those danger zones had been crossed days ago. Sasha didn’t know what was stopping him from completely losing his mind. Maybe he was feeling so low and depressed his brain didn’t have it in it anymore.
Kel brought Sasha inside, and with his hand clasping Sasha’s, he led him to the bathroom. Kel opened the door and began petting Sasha’s head.
And then… he began to sing to Sasha. “Time for cleaning, time for washing, time for Sasha to shower and eat. Time for cleaning, time for washing, then my Sashy can get his treat.” Kel kissed Sasha on the head and gave his short hair one last pet. “Clean lots. I’m going to help Kheva finish plucking Missus Chicken.” Then he turned and walked towards the kitchen.
Sasha just stood there and stared at him, a bewildered look on his face. He’d seen displays of Kel’s odd manner many times by now, but every day that man just got weirder.
I wonder if I’ll ever learn what’s wrong with him. Was he born like this? Something tells me he wasn’t.
No head voice answered him back. He was… gone.
So, there is a silver lining to being with these whackjobs.
Finally, a full two minutes after Kel had left the bathroom, Sasha snapped out of the trance he’d found himself in. He closed the door and stripped down to nothing, then stepped into the shower.
It was a painful and uncomfortable shower; his stomach was eating itself alive and the injures on his body made themselves known as soon as the hot water hit them. The fresh ones from Kel’s assault were now forming welts as well, and as Sasha ran the loofah over them he could feel lumps the size of chicken eggs under his skin. His head was still throttling him too, and the steam and fragrant soap he was inhaling wasn’t making it any better. He even had to sit down on the bench for a minute when a wave of dizziness almost spilled him onto the ground.
When Sasha was done, he stepped out of the shower, and saw a set of clothes resting on the closed lid of the toilet. He hadn’t even heard or seen anyone come into the bathroom. It was an unsettling notion that they’d been here, but it was one he was getting used to now.
Sasha unfolded the clothes. It was a pair of cloth pants, a pair of black briefs, and a grey undershirt, that was it. It was clean though, and the clothing Sasha had been wearing stank of sweat, dirt, and unwashed bodies, so he put them on without complaint.
After he was dressed he grabbed an electric razor that was plugged in beside the sink, then reached up and wiped the steam from the mirror.
He barely recognized himself.
How could he change that much in so little time? When he looked at himself back at his apartment, he always saw a man who looked depressed. But now? Sasha just looked exhausted and lost. There was a hopelessness in his eyes that even wrenched his heart.
He shaved quickly, avoiding his own reflection as much as he could, then left the depressed man in the mirror behind and walked out of the bathroom.
CHAPTER 11
The smell of roasting chicken filled his nostrils. His mouth watered, anticipating what it would all taste like, and he made his way towards the living room. There were so many things wrong with him, but at least his hunger could be taken care of.
Maybe he could even get some of Kel’s blood tonight too. The prospect of that was even more anticipated than the food he could smell in the kitchen. This place had given him many bad memories, but one of the positive ones was taking the blood from Kel’s arm. The feeling had been euphoric, like finding a drug that had been specifically tailored for you and your body. Sasha had been looking forward to getting another taste, and once he’d realized what a powerful man he was, had been eager to try Kheva’s.
Sasha looked to the kitchen and saw Kel laying plates onto the kitchen island. There were two steaming pots on the stove, and a roaster in the oven.
“Sit at the table, Sasha,” Kel said. He gave Sasha a happy look, the anger he’d exuded in the garden seemingly forgotten about. “The chicken will be ready in about ten minutes. Happily eating this morning, and now we’re happily eating it in the evening. I cooked this slow too since she was free range.” He opened a pot lid, then retracted his head when a plume of steam rose up. “Mashed potatoes, candied carrots, and Diet Dr. Pepper just for Sasha.”
“You… got that for me?” Sasha asked confused. He sat down in his usual spot at the dining room table and watched Kel run around the kitchen. At first, he didn’t know where Kheva was, but a moment later, he came in from outside. Without giving Sasha a passing glance, he walked past them and headed upstairs.
Kel nodded his head vigorously. “Yes! We knew it’s your favourite and I asked Master and Master said yes. I made sure to get a few of your favourites the last store trip we made. I hate store trips but love them also. I don’t like a lot of people but it’s exciting to go to town. If you’re good maybe Master Kheva will let you go next time. We go once a month for food.”
“And fuel, I guess?” Sasha asked. He closed his eyes from the pain assaulting his head and clenched his teeth.
“No, no, that would be too much for us to carry back and we’d need a lot of jugs. The fuel truck comes twice a year and fills up our big tank, costs thousands and thousands, but it makes it so we don’t have to worry about running out. It would be nice to one day be able to use the solar panels for everything, but right now we need a generator,” Kel explained. “Your head is hurting really bad. We’ll fix that tonight.”
Sasha opened his eyes and looked up at Kel, who was draining water from the potatoes. “You…” He almost felt like crying over the relief he felt. “You’re going to let me drink tonight?”
Kel put the pot down. “Kheva says yes,” he said. “He says it’s too soon… but you’re insisting so it’s yes.” The man strangely stopped, and his teeth could be seen biting down on his lower lip. “I can’t wait.”
Maybe he gets something from it too? Neither of the men had ever sampled his blood, except for the incident on the road. Sasha decided not to dwell on it; he was in too much pain to think straight anyway.
The reality that he was going to at least be able to shake this headache, gave Sasha the energy he needed to push through the next ten minutes. Just knowing he was going to get some relief meant the world to him. He had so many problems, so many worries that circled his head like vultures to carrion, but at least he’d have a small respite. Kel would have to pry his mouth away from his arm, the last few days had been so traumatizing, so awful, the relief the blood meant the world to him.
Before he knew it, Sasha was sitting beside Kheva, a heaping plate of food on Kheva’s plate, more than the master usually ate and half of what was on Kel’s. This filled Sasha with even more hope. It looked like he was going t
o have a full meal tonight.
And it looked like it was some sort of special occasion to them. Kheva had emerged freshly showered, and was dressed in a crisp, ironed black dress shirt, and black trousers. The smell of cinnamon coffee that followed him around was more vibrant than ever, and he’d shaved as well.
“Dinner looks perfect. Thank you, Keluva,” Kheva said. And at this praise, Kel blossomed with pride.
“Yes, it looks wonderful,” Sasha said, following suit. He didn’t care what he had to do, he was going to stay in their good books. “Thank you, Master Kel.”
The man looked like he was going to explode from happiness. Kel gave the two of them huge proud smiles and said a polite, yet energetic, thank you.
When Kheva held out the first forkful of food, Sasha had to suck back the saliva flooding his mouth. He leaned down and took the food from Kheva’s fork, and savoured every moment of eating it. There were no words to say how much he appreciated food now. Like almost every person living in a first-world country he’d never truly been starved. He’d been hungry and his stomach had growled and churned, but the real gnawing sense of starvation had never been experienced. Food had always been available, even if it was just a potato to fry up on the stove, Sasha had always had something, and as such, he’d never really appreciated true hunger.
But now… even that single forkful made Sasha feel happiness; happiness and just relief.
Kheva took a bite for himself, then the two of them fell into a routine they’d established before Sasha had made Kheva mad. Kheva would take his bites, then offer some to Sasha, no words exchanged or even eye contact. Kheva ate, and eventually started a conversation with Kel, and Sasha waited eagerly for his next bite.
And the forkfuls of food kept coming. Chicken, mashed potatoes, both covered in a rich gravy, and candied carrots, which were carrots caramelized with brown sugar and butter, followed by as much Dr. Pepper as he could drink. Sasha felt so much appreciation for Kheva he felt like jumping up and hugging him.