/ The Demon Wore Chains / 25
THE DEMON WORE CHAINS:
A Gay Erotic Thriller
by Hunter Overstreet
Copyright 2014
Chapter I:
Boy Meets Inexplicable Forces of Darkness
It was getting dark, and I was alone with someone behind me. Guys at work tell me I shouldn’t be afraid at night. I’m a man. But what guy actually thinks he’s, you know, A MAN…I mean, I guess I’m reasonably handsome. I’m lean….blonde….I can’t pass at all. I used to think I was something special; I had self-esteem before I moved to the city. Here, everyone’s got their yogis and their body elixirs and their kale and they look incredible. It’s unfair. I used to like guys with a little meat on their bones, but now there’s just bone and muscle. I’d like to be a personal trainer, so I probably should be more built, but I guess that’s just the way God made me: lean, tall, breakable. One of my old boyfriends once told me I was “delicate.” He seemed to like that, me being “delicate.” I hated when he called me that, but then he’d slap me in the face so good I’d get hard and instantly forgive him. Being breakable can have its perks. The blonde and the gentle are the ones who take it the best…or so I’ve heard.
The footsteps behind me were getting louder. I never wanted to be one of those night-walkers that looks over their shoulder when they’re walking. It gives away that I don’t belong here, that I’m new in town. Don’t do it, don’t look over your shoulder, you’ll be fine. I thought.
But the anxiety was building and I couldn’t resist. I looked back the see the source of the footsteps.
There was no one there.
But I could’ve sworn…I thought. The footsteps had been heavy. Maybe I was just zoned out. Or-
Then high up above me, a light went out in an office building. Then another. Then another. Then another, as if the building was booting down for the night. The street lamps soon followed. I whirled around to see if anyone else had noticed, but there was no one else to notice.
Is it a blackout? What do people do when the power’s out in the city? I thought. Should I like…loot something?
The only thing left on the sidewalk was me, a solitary streetlight, and the loudest silence I’d ever experienced.
Everything was still.
Very. Still.
Then I wasn’t alone anymore.
As my face hit the pavement, I wondered if it was because I wasn’t looting. The next thought was that it might be Jack the Ripper before I remembered he was dead and English. Son of Sam you idiot! You’re probably getting killed by Son of Sam!…oh shit.
A boot slammed into me, catapulting pain through my back. I felt something grab my hair, and drag me up. Then a voice was whispering:
“You’re a cute one. I’ll keep you.”
The last thing I heard before I blacked out was a leathery flapping of wings. Then I was floating. Then I was gone.
I woke up with a splitting headache and a sense that things might not be going well for me. I blinked. The room was dark. I tried to move my legs but quickly figured out they were bound. The rope was rough around my ankle, splintering like untamed scruff. My hands were tied behind the chair with the same coarse material. I struggled against, but could feel them getting tighter. My heart pounded, sending blood to my head. I could feel sweat dripping everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. I began to wonder if my captor would kill me before the dehydration. How long does it take to dehydrate a body? Is it two weeks? Or is that how it long stakes if you stop eating?
“That’s eating,” a voice said from the darkness.
“Who’s there?” I whispered, as the lights rose to a slight dim.
“I don’t have any money. I mean if you want my savings account you can have it. My checking’s over-drafted, but if you want an iPad you can-“
The slap that rippled across my face stung, and came with a twinge of pleasure I tried to suppress.
“Who are you?” His voice was commanding like a shot of harsh whiskey. As he moved closer, his scent filled me, a mixture of smoke, sweat and maybe a hint of…blood? I started sweating more.
“My…my….my name’s Miles…what’s yours?” It seemed polite at the time.
“WHO SENT YOU?”
“I’M A TEMP! I was sent by Frontier Recruiting, if you want them, I’d be happy to let you into the building, the head guy’s name is Steve and he looks kinda like a deflated doughnut, you can kill him and I won’t tell anyone I swear!”
Another slap, coming seemingly out of nowhere, this time I was barely able to contain the groan in the my mouth. I was getting hard. This was embarrassing…
“Tell. Me. The Truth. Where is Zacharias? Why did he send you?” The voice said again.
“I am. I swear I…I knew a Zach once in college but we only hooked up once-“
“SHUT UP!” I could hear pacing now. The figure seemed frantic now, upset by something I had said. All I could hear was a mumbling getting faster, faster, and faster as my heart rate got faster, faster, faster-
And then he was on me. And my mouth feel open.
“Do you you want to stay alive?” He leaned into the light and kept forward, gripping the arms of my chair like he could snap them at any second. He thrust his face into mine, so close I could almost taste his sweat.
His hair was jet black, with a shock of white across the front. It was short, but neatly brushed against the skin, as if Clark Kent had decided to go wild one day. His face was sharp, handsome but dangerous. He could’ve been a Hollywood action star if his eyes hadn’t been a dark, brooding red. He pressed his forearm into my neck, he was sweating too.
“I could kill you right now.”
“I’d…” I said, almost choking. “I’d rather…You…Didn’t.”
His elbow relaxed, but stayed on my neck. He leaned in closer, brushing between my legs. I could feel his hard body, his strength, my muscles tightened as he leaned in. Just a little closer, I thought. Get closer so I can at least die a little happy.
Then the ropes came off, and I wasn’t completely sure what to make of that. I rubbed the burned of my wrists as the man cut off the binding my legs. My body released, free, relived…if a little disappointed. I should really get help.
“Are you…letting me go?”
“There’s no ‘letting go’ I’m afraid. You, my little toy, are not going anywhere.”
“But…but…you can’t just kidnap me. I’m…I have people who know where I am!”
No I don’t.
“No you don’t. And understand. I’m not kidnapping you, I’m protecting you.”
He turned his back, the sweat showing through his, tight, black shirt. He grabbed a small case off a desk in the corner. The room itself looked a run of the mill hotel room, except I noticed all the pictures were upside-down, and the bed didn’t have sheets. The man busied himself taking something out of the case. Now was my chance.
“Protecting me from what?” I looked to my left and spied a pen, a pad of worn hotel paper, and water bottle. A.k.a everything was useless. In movies, the hero could always grab a lamp or a stray baseball bat, but I was pretty sure the lamp was hardwired into the desk or something. I started fumbling with the wire trying to get the lamp off the wall. I gave up quickly and opted for the trashcan instead. The man was putting on what looked a trenchcoat and tucked something into an inner pocket I couldn’t see. He continued speaking:
“You won’t need me to tell you when you see it. Had to rough you up to make sure you were what I saw. Can never be too careful.”
I was getting closer to him, my dustbin weapon primed and ready for attack.
“What I’m doing is for your own good,” he said has he donned black leather gloves, stil
l oblivious to my attack. “Forces beyond your understanding are-“
I leapt into action, my dustbin swing confidently towards his head, my action hero mode was on and I was ready to liberate myself and escape his-
“That was not polite.” The dustbin hung in mid-air, held back by an invisible force. The man, putting the finishing touches on his gloves turned to me, my dustbin levitating in front of him.
“Goddamnit it? How did you-
“You Fool!” The man’s red eyes all of a sudden began burring bright, his muscular form jolted into action as he tackled me onto the floor. Just then, a swarm of bullets came through the walls, tearing the room apart. The man stayed on top of me, shielding me from the destruction. I heard him cry out in pain as he was struck. His body stayed on top of me, breathing hard, the bullets destroying everything in the room. My dustbin had officially met it’s maker, along with the lamp, the bed and event the upside-down pictures on the walls.
“Time…for us…to go,” the man got out.
“But-“ His hand closed over my mouth.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered in me ear. “And think of England. This is about to get weird for you.”
“HOW? HOW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
I closed my eyes, and tried to imagine how this could get weirder. Then we were shifting throughout the floor, the hotel room fading into the next one. And I found out.
Chapter II:
Boy Meets Demon, Is Turned On
“Who was that? Who are you? Are you bleeding? Are you a looter? Should I be looting?”
He ran out the hotel and into a dark alleyway that appeared to end in a brick wall.
“This way. And be quiet.”
I wondered if I should run in the opposite direction. Then I heard footsteps, yelling and gunshots and quickly reconsidered. The mans barreled at the brick wall.
“Are we gonna do the Shadowcat thing again? ‘Cause I’m still kinda nauseous.”
Without seeming to hear me, the man in the trenchcoat took something of his pocket, aimed it at the wall, and the world exploded.
Well. I mean, not THE ENTIRE WORLD, mostly just the brick wall. But if world is defined as the unique perspective of the individual consciousness, then yes, there was a big-ass world explosion.
He took my hand as we ran through wreckage, dodging sharp detritus and what looked like green fire. As we got to the other side, the man turned around, knelt, and whispered some words I couldn’t hear. As if time itself had gotten lost, the wall begin rebuilding. The explosion de-ploded and I was staring at the other side of the brick wall I’d just seen annihilated.
“How…how….”
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“Yes….”
“Too bad”
The man lifted me over his shoulder and began running into the street. He got faster and faster, as his shoulder pressed into my stomach. As we barreled into traffic, I said my last rites for about the 40th time that night. As the first car swerved to avoid the crazy man running in the street, we started going up. At first, just a little. Then a lot. Then we were off. I finally gathered the courage to open my eyes and saw wings sprouting out the man’s back. Not wings attached to his body, but something like astral wings. Transparent and fierce, the almost nonexistent wings beat against the sky. They were beautiful. I looked down at the city, lit up like like a million fireflies. For the first time that night I felt something akin to peace. I’d heard that near-death experiences can cause euphoria, and this was some damn fine euphoria.
That is, until I realized how high up I was and wanted to vomit, but I’m going to omit that part. No one needs that.
We set down near the water, close to some docks where I imagined fisherman threw fish at each other. Trenchcoat Flying Man, or TFM as I had started calling him in my head, led me down some steps near the water into what looked like a sewer duct. I hesitated for a moment before following him. It was funny. This man had tied me up, almost killed me, and yet I still wanted to…no…needed to follow him.
This is Stockholm Syndrome right? Or am I just horny? I wonder if Jack Bauer has these problems.
The cave led into a surprisingly room-like room, complete with a bed, shelves and even a mattress not eh floor. Don’t get me wrong, it all looked like shit, but in a damp cave near the docks it was pretty much the Four Seasons.
“Take a seat.” I remained standing, still trying to comprehend everything.
“I said sit!” I sat.
The man let out a sigh, and slumped over onto one knee. This was the first time I’d seen him break his steely demeanor. He was hurt. He gripped his side and closed his eyes.
“Can I…help or…”
“Just…just be quiet. Please.”
He reached into one of his drawers and pulled out something that looked like a bluetooth earpiece crossed with a Hipster’s USB stick. He spoke into it like this normal:
“I got him. Report back once you get this. I got made, we’re not safe. Might need to send in the Scion to rectify. RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. The dockbay safe house won’t be safe for long.”
With that, he crushed the device in his hands and threw the remains on the floor. He slumped against the dresser and focused his ravenous eyes on me.
“You might be confused. Sorry about that. But you’re gonna have to lie low for a while.”
“You gonna tie me up again?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” The man said with a smirk.
I blushed. I probably wasn’t as good at hiding my pleasure as I’d thought. The man stood up and strode towards me.
“This city’s dangerous for a delicate boy like you.”
There was that word again.
“I’m not delicate. I’m…I’m getting my feet but-“
“You’re breakable. We’re gonna have to change that.”
He was getting closer. His voice was like sweet gravel, a smooth bourbon, setting my heart pumping.
“I don’t even know your name. What you are….I don’t—“
“You have a lot of questions.”
He took a fistfull of my hair and pulled me in. His lips were so close, so harsh. I licked mine in anticipation.
“You’re very special, you know that. You’re gonna do something very important for me. And maybe I can make it worth your while. Do you want it?”
No. No, whatever this freak wants, it’s not natural, it’s not…he’s some monster I can’t- The thoughts dissipated quickly as his hand found my inner thigh.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re gonna play a the questions game. You gotta ask the right questions. You get hot, I move closer. You get cold, I punish you. Deal?”
I gulped. I want to kiss him, I wanted him to bite me, to fly with me, to smash me down on the bed and—then I remembered people were trying to kill me. I tried to control the blood pumping into my erection.
“Who are you?”
“Warm. I’m your protector. That’s all you need to know.”
His hand moved up my thigh, just an inch.
“Who were those people?”
“People who aren’t happy that I’m protecting you. Let’s call them the Interlopers.”
The Demon Wore Chains Page 1