“They’re people who…who aren’t supposed to be in this world. I expect.”
“Very warm.”
Two inches this time. His grip on my hair tightened.
“What are you?”
His eyes blazed. He threw me down on the bed and straddled me. His fingers four the pressure point in my shoulder and I yelled out in pain.
“That was a cold question. That is something you do not need to know.”
He released his grip. My head swam with pain and arousal.
“Who am I? What do you want me to do?”
“Ahh yes.” His grip relaxed. He began stroking my inner thigh again. Getting close, so close but never quite reaching me.
“This is a lot of information, so I’ll try to make it as pleasant for you as possible. He got up went over to a drawer in his cabinet, slipping off his trench coat to reveal full, tight arms and a sweaty muscular chest. He opened a drawer and took out something I couldn’t see.
“You’re a Scion, Mr. Miles. A slave.”
“A what?”
“You heard me. A slave. But not in the way you’d think. You’re a pawn really, in a war that’s been raging for millennia.”
He turned around, a leather riding crop on his hands. I tensed, and stiffened.
“Do you like this?”
“Why are you-“
“You should know, I only do this with the ones with potential. You may not look like much Miles-“
Thanks!
“But you could be something. Once I’m done with you. Take off your shirt.”
“What? No.”
“Oh really?
He raised the back of his hand as if he was going slap me again. I braced for an impact that never came. Instead I felt the riding crop, tracing it’s way slowly down my torso.
“You have a master now. You do what the master says.” All I could do was nod as I took off my shirt. I was covered in sweat, I felt my body, lithe, ready, scared of my captor, but aching for him.
“Now I’m sure you’ve heard of Lucifer, Miles?”
“Yes.”
He placed the crop on my back, gently, teasing me with the promise of pain.
“Yes…what?”
“Yes, master.”
“What a good boy.” The crop came down hard. I arched my back in pain as the ache spread through my body like lightening. His scent, his voice, his command was almost too much for me to take. I tried to keep my composure.
“Then you know about the angels who were cast out. Who were sent to hell and all that bullshit.”
“Yes, master.”
“The you’ll be happy to find out that there is no hell. There is only a heaven. And here. Those that were cast out were put on earth. To struggle, to do what we could. To shape your pathetic world. Factions popped up. Invisible wars for fought for dominance. All without a lick of attention from you pathetic creatures.
The second hit was harder than the first. I collapsed one the bed, my body overwhelmed by the euphoria.
“You, you’re a…an angel?”
“Former. A castaway. Didn’t even join Lucifer, but was deemed unfit to serve the Almighty anyway. You can probably imagine why. On all fours now.”
I did as I was told. But I wanted more. I wanted him.
“Choke me.”
His leather-gloved hand curled around my neck as he flipped me over. He was hard too, I could see it now. A leopard, waiting to break out and devoir its prey.
“You. Don’t Make the rules. But I’ll let you have this one.”
His hand held my neck firmly, tightly. I struggled to breathe.
“Now. One faction of the Fallen, the Interlopers, has taken over. More than they have any right to. When we were cast out, we were given the mission to make the world a better place from the ground up. It’s the only way we can regain our ‘wings’ so to speak. But the Interlopers…they just wanted control. And now, they have it. Every corporation, every government, every housewife book club is run by these guys.”
“So…” I said, trying to catch my breath. “What does this have to do with me?”
The man sat me up and began stroking my chest with a surprising gentleness. He teased my nipples until they were hard.
“You can moan. I give you permission.”
I let it out all at once. The relief was what I needed. I wanted to him kiss me. I put mouth near his, but he pulled back, only on inch.
“Not yet.”
“But-“
He continued to play with me as he talked. Every time I tried to touch him or kiss him, he’d slap me or back off. Boys played with toys, I thought. Not the other way around.
“When a Fallen one dies, his energy doesn’t just go away. It implants itself in a human soul, giving that soul power and usefulness.”
“ So I’m…I’m a scion?”
“I had to make sure. The Interlopers have been known to booby trap souls with their own cosmic energy. False scions have killed many of my brothers. But you. You’re the real deal. A really big deal. The power you have is necessary if we’re going to succeed.”
“Succeed at what?”
“Oh my delicate boy. Welcome to the resistance.”
The blood rushing to my erection was distracting me from how stupid this all sounded. There’s no way this could be real.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“Shhh. Shut up, slave. You’ll need to learn your place soon.”
“But what do you I call you?”
“For now…” He said, while unbuttoning my jeans.
“Just call me Hunter.”
Just as he was undoing my zipper, a sharp sound pierced the air, like a car alarm, but somehow more annoying.
“Dammit!” Hunter rushed over to the remains of the bluetooth-like device. Just as with the brick wall before, the pieces magically came back together as if they had never been broken.
“What?….yes I was in the middle of….fine what is it?….No.”
Hunter looked panicked for the first time.
“How did they….but how am I supposed to….Listen, I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anythi-….Alright. Stay safe, and I’ll meet up with you at Front Gate. I’ll bring the Scion….Yes, I’ll keep this one alive!…Go fuck yourself. Bye.”
“Who was that?”
“Get your clothes on. We’re leaving.”
“But-but…” Getting blue-balled like this was somehow worse than a million bullets trying to kill me. I got dressed and diligently tried to regain my dignity.
“Where are we going?”
“Hell.”
Chapter III:
Boy Meets Cosmic Destiny, Claims Prize
Turns our there is a hell and it’s a stop on the #3 Downtown Bus. We rode in silence, his body tense and distracted.
“So…can I call you Hunt?”
“Maybe don’t call me anything.”
“I’ll call you Hunter. The Hunter? Majestical Hunter?”
“You’re getting mouthy for a slave.”
“You’re awful nervous for an angel.”
“I’m more Demon than angel. You should know that by now.”
He went back to his contemplation, but what had happened in his cave was still troubling me. Why wouldn’t he kiss me? It was clear he was attracted to me. But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe I was just a disposable toy to him. But even though this was all clearly above my pay-grade, I wanted him. I wanted to be a part of his world. Maybe he really was crazy, but the things I had seen, the way he had made me feel….
That was real.
That was what I had come to this city for. He made me feel good. He made me feel important, as if someone really wanted me.
Plus, he was really hot, so that’s always a plus.
I was about to ask him why he wouldn’t kiss me, when the bus flipped. A flash of light and a cacophony of action later, I was sprawled out on the sidewalk, trying to figure if I was alive or dead. I looked up to see the ruins of the bus, a fie
ry mess with people screaming all around.
“Oh there you are.” The voice was not Hunter’s.
I turned to see a man in a pristine suit, carrying a cold, wooden cane. He looked to be in his early thirties, with his soft features, coifed hair and delicate skin. But his eyes betrayed his age and cruelty. This was not a human.
“Go get help!” I yelled, trying to act like an innocent civilian. I tried to run, but felt a strong hand grab my collar.
“No, no, no young scion. That is not the way it goes here. Your protector is dead. You will now be my property. If that does not suit you, I don’t care.”
Dead!! It couldn’t be. Hunter had survived a million bullets in that room. A little fire wouldn’t do anything…would it? I still had no idea how anything worked.
“Now. Don’t make a fuss,” the man said. “If you come with quietly, I’ll only hurt you in private. I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re on of them, you’re an interloper?”
“I’m no such thing,” the man said, dragging me away from the wreckage. “To call us interlopers is to say we do not belong in your society. When actually, we built this society you call yours. We built your futile culture. We built your city-“
“On rock and roll?” I said. The man did not bother with slaps as Hunter had. His punch was direct and painful. The shockwaves of pain almost knocked me out. I laid on the sidewalk, a crumpled mess.
I was just walking back from work. I thought. I’m a temp. I’m delicate. I’m a nobody…aren’t I?
Then came the whiskey voice: “That’s my job.”
The coifed man’s body went flying as Hunter landed a flying kick to his midsection. Hunter was pretty bruised up, but still standing. I could see his scars healing in front of my eyes. I guess being even a former Celestial has its benefits.
“Are you ready to run?”
“Can’t you fight him or like..fly or something.”
“He’s got too much support here. We wouldn’t last long. NOW COME ON.”
I tried my best keep up with him as we ran down the alleys and streets, Hunter taking tall bounds as he tried to carry me with him. Every now and then I’d see a shadow above, which was our cue to take refuge in the nearest alley or dumpster.
“Where are we going?”
“That is a good fucking question.”
“Are you allowed to swear?”
“Fuck off.”
Something exploded behind us as we took our last turn. Hunter ushered me into what looked like a comic shop, pushed past the clerk and ran into the back. I gave my apologies as I also pushed away the clerk who seemed more bewildered than angry. When we reached the breakroom, Hunter pounded his foot, hard, on the floor. A trapdoor sprang up out of nowhere and we descended.
The staircase was long and dark. Hunter flicked his fingers and produced a small lick of fire. It was barely enough to illuminate his now sullen features.
At the end of the staircase was a large, decrepit ballroom. How a place like this could fit under the city, I would never know. The paintings on the walls depicted graphic violence, a war that had always been, and always would be. Our footsteps echoed across the great hall.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“It was once a place of ritual. Now it’s a ruin. You don’t have to know anything more. Just keep your head down and move.”
“Who was that man?”
“His name is Zacharias. He is one of the oldest and most powerful of us. You should be flattered they sent him after us. Of course it probably means we’ll both be dead by the end of the night.”
“And you would be right.” A blast of light took Hunter right off his feet. Before I could move, Zacharias was on him, moving at a I speed I couldn’t comprehend. Zacharias moved with a surgeon’s precision, every blow was blocked, every attempt at escape was blocked. After playing with Hunter for a few rounds, he grabbed him by the neck and hurtled him into the wall, right next a painting of woman pouring the blood of the fallen on flowers.
“You…can’t…take him,” my protector groaned.
“Oh Hunter.” Zacharias strode towards him, and picked him by his collar.
“You bad little boy.” Hen snapped his fingers as his cane transformed into chains. He threw Hunter to the ground and proceeded to give him lash after lash with the hard metal.
“Remember how you used to enjoy this?”
Hunter yelled in pain, helpless to stop him.
“We used to do this for days and days. Your stamina was truly something special. Sometimes I miss it, I must admit.”
Another lash. Hunter’s pain was apparent, but I thought I saw a glimmer of something else there too. Perhaps he enjoyed it more than he was letting on. Zacharias let the chains crack again against Hunter’s back. His clothes were in tatters at this point, barely clinging anymore to their master. Zacharias viciously ripped off Hunter’s shirt and coat, leaving him bare-chested and vulnerable. Hunter’s muscles flexed and panted with exhaustion. He was almost beat.
“I would vow to treasure this moment further but-“
With a swift kick to his temple, my protector was out cold. And there was no one left but Zacharias…and me.
“Now, my boy we come to you. What to do, what to do, what to do… At one point I think you could’ve been useful to us. The Fallen One that created you was powerful indeed. Maybe a little too powerful. You understand that’d I’d love to have you live.”
He dropped the chains to the floor and flicked his fingers. At once, the chains began slithering towards me like venomous snakes. They wrapped around my wrists, my torso, my legs. I tried to resist, but they only got tighter. Zacahrias was almost face to face with me now.
“Shame to waste such a pretty face. Bu alas.” He produced a nine-inch stiletto from his inner pocket.
“Sacrifices used to be all the rage here. Let’s restart the trend.”
As the knife plunged into my chest, my only regret is that I never got to kiss my protector, never got to truly know him. Maybe we could’ve been in love. I’d never gotten past the lust phase before. I could’ve had something real with Hunter, my protector, my master. I could’ve been strong, I could’ve been special…
I could’ve not been so damn delicate.
It was around the end of this inner monologue that I realized I was, in fact, not dead and that Zacharias was on the floor screaming in pain, his eyes glowing red, pink, green, all at once and not at all. The chains loosened and I was able to wiggle out of them.
“IT’S TOO MUCH. IT’S TOO MUCH.” He screamed.
The Demon Wore Chains Page 2