by Kol Anderson
SHAPE OF MY HEART
KOL ANDERSON
1
This is where the story began.
This empty room where the walls screamed your name and every indentation on the floor was a story and a reason for me to be alive.
I brought him here, as I've brought others like him. There have been so many but not once did they stand out. Not once did they become you. And you were all I ever wanted, all I ever desired.
You're gone and once people enter the valley of death they don't come back.
I've been lost ever since it happened, cold and devoid of compassion. But I think I found a way to feel again. Maybe not love, not like the one I felt for you but something else. A different kind of love perhaps? It's the kind of thing that if I told you I was doing, I know you'd be mad at me. But I would convince you to see my way. And sometimes you'd get angry and blame your troubles on our escapades, but you'd know that wasn't true and then it would become one of those things that we did together, that deepened our bond.
But you're not there, I'm reminded miserably by the rational side of my brain. The truth is, as far as I'm concerned you never left.
I've never been one for normalcy. And neither have you, but of the two of us I suppose you were the most normal. I'd given up on societal norms and pleasantries but you managed to get along with people despite what you thought of them. I guess I always admired that about you. You were my angel, my friend, my love and now you're gone and I want to scratch your name into the skin of everyone I meet so this world doesn't get the chance to forget you.
On the floor was the body of the new one.
I was optimistic about him but I was wrong. He was too much like the rest of them. He didn't stand out, not even a little and I got bored. I watched him from the edge of the bed, and he was laid out on the carpet without a shred of clothing and his eyes were close but he opened them when I stood up and he smiled at me. I think I might have smiled back. There was no fear in his eyes, just trust. It reminded me of you. But there was a difference between his tranced subservience and the committed devotion I could always count on from you.
I reached into my jeans pocket and fished for the bright red lipstick. I uncapped it and lowered myself to him. I drew a heart-shaped figure around his ribs, the same place his heart should be. He reached for my bare chest through my unbuttoned shirt and touched the same place on me. “The heart in here is empty,” I told him. “You won’t find anything.”
He didn’t understand.
I was starting to think I’d never find him. The right him and not this piece of trash lying on my floor. He was starting to annoy me, his obvious ditziness and he was so hollow. We needed someone who could still feel emotion. Someone who wasn’t desensitized by malevolence and violence. Someone still alive and not dead and this one was deader than you and I combined. The stench of his putrid soul was revolting.
They all looked alive when I first saw them. It was only when I brought them here that I realized how dead they were inside.
I straddled him and ran my hand over his navel to distract him while I reached for the knife tucked away behind me. He never saw it coming. I dropped the knife to his chest and drew the blade heavily across his ribs as he squirmed underneath me. I was bathed in his blood. There were no sounds from him except for the occasional sputtering and spewing of bodily fluids.
I ripped his heart out.
It was still warm and beating when I bit into it. The metallic taste of his blood put me in a trance and I found myself losing control. I tossed the organ aside and grabbed my dick and I thought of you. I remembered what it was like feeling you underneath me and being inside you like we were one. I remembered the way your heartbeat seemed to merge with mine. How infinite and endless it all felt until time took it away from us. I remembered the way your lips felt and I remembered all the contours and dips and elevations on your flawless body. I remembered until I was one with you again and I was screaming out my pleasure. When I was done, I wiped myself on the dead corpse and dumped him in the crawlspace with the rest.
I glanced at them, half a dozen bodies decomposing together and none of them gave me what I needed. What we needed.
Not one of them was worthy.
What a waste.
2
The first time I saw him, he was dancing. He captivated me, but I knew I had to play my cards right. I could sense a desperateness in him, a kind of hunger just like we used to have. He was different. But I had to be certain, so I played it cool when he started showing off his body and his eyes burned holes in my skin. I left my drink untouched and headed toward the men’s room and I could feel him following me.
When I stepped into the bathroom, he finally got bold. “Hey.”
I saw his reflection in the mirror and pushed him against the wall, hard enough for him to lose his breath. His eyes searched for me and he tried to kiss me, but I didn’t let him and shoved at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried again and this time I shoved him harder and my hand was at his throat. He was terrified of me now, but his eyes gazed at me with a strange longing. “I don’t scare easy,” he said, and I tightened my grip around his throat. He was in pain and suffering but didn’t try to stop me. I leaned in and kissed him, my hand still on his throat. He was kissing me back and I loosened my grip a little. We continued to kiss, and I kept deepening it until I bit his lower lip and he yelped. “Ow!”
I let go of him. His lips were bloody and he was standing there a little shocked. “Go home, kid,” I grinned.
I turned around and unlocked the bathroom door, ready to leave but he stopped me by grabbing my hand. “Please,” he said. “I can do better.”
You can imagine what those words did to me. Not only was it exciting on a physical level but his hunger rivaled mine and that was something that I’d never seen before in anyone except you. His hand was still holding mine, and that took some serious balls. Though I still doubted his commitment. “I’m going to be honest,” I said. “I play hard.”
“I got no limits,” he blurted out.
It made me laugh. “Save yourself the pain,” I told him. “Go home.”
He stood his ground. “No.”
“What’s your name?”
“Brody.”
“You really wanna play, Brody?” I reached into my pocket for a blindfold and tossed it to him. He barely caught it. “Put this on.”
He took a deep breath.
He was hesitating.
I went up to him and took the blindfold and turned him around so I could tie it behind it head. “Let me help you,” I whispered in his ear and he quivered. Started breathing harder. When I was done putting him in that blindfold, I reached into my pocket again.
“What’s that smell?” he asked briefly, before I grabbed him from behind and placed that piece of rag over his face, covering up his mouth and nostrils and he started struggling but the chloroform worked like a charm and he was out within seconds.
I let him drop to the bathroom floor and he sank to the tiles, without much noise. I grabbed his legs and placed him in a sitting position, and I’d scarcely taken off the blindfold when some guy walked in. He stared at the two of us, me standing next to this passed out twink but I didn’t give him the chance to think.
“He always does this,” I said, with theatrical annoyance. “Why drink when you can’t hold your liquor, right?”
He seemed to be at ease after that and proceeded to wash his hands at the sink and splash his face with water. “Do you need help?”
He was tall and muscular, having two people carry an unconscious boy would be less conspicuous. People would associate the three of us together instead of me with some unconscious kid. “Could use some help I guess,” I said, with grateful
joy. “My car’s parked right outside.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Mike.”
“Dan.”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
I hesitated. “Brody. And yes we… we live together.” He smiled and shot me a look that said he understood more than he was letting on but I could see right through his act. “Can’t be easy,” he said exactly the kind of thing I was expecting him to say. “You’re hot. How do you stay loyal to someone with all those guys throwing themselves at you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s gorgeous… but… you know what I mean, right?”
“Honestly,” I had to make it sound authentic. “It hasn’t been easy.”
I wanted to give him a reason to empathize with me, even if it was fake. But you know me. I faked my way through life. I don’t think I would have gotten you if it wasn’t for all the things I faked. I’m at the point where everything is fake and everything is real. I guess somewhere along the line I forgot the distinction.
I lost my way.
But what was I supposed to do? You weren’t there to guide me. Maybe if I had a moral GPS in you, I wouldn’t have strayed as far as I did. It was like one day I woke up and I had bodies in my basement, and I was living a different reality where every word that came from my mouth was a lie. It was something I made up to hide from the consequences of my slip-ups. People stayed up all night dancing in clubs to take out their frustration and deal with their anger, and I slashed the throats of hot unsuspecting victims and ate their hearts as trophies.
But I could tell Brody was going to be more of a sacrifice than a victim. So, all of this would be worth it.
Mike helped me get Brody off the bathroom floor, and we both gave him a shoulder to lean on so we could haul him outside the club. Mike seemed a little concerned again when we placed Brody in the passenger seat of my car. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“Probably too much G,” I said, trying to dismiss it. “It’ll wear off.”
“Looks like it’s not the first time you’re having to do this.”
I simply shrugged. Actions speak louder than words.
He stood against my car and placed his hands in his pockets. “You know these twink types,” he said with unwavering confidence which made me think he had done this kind of thing before. “They need a therapist or a Dad more than they need a man. If you ever just want someone who appreciates you for who you are… someone who can handle being an adult,” he fished out his business card and handed it to me. “Call me.”
This guy was really starting to push my buttons. For one he clearly had no qualms about cheating, and he was the kind of hot that made you complacent and I was complacent enough for the entire male population, I didn’t need it from him. But on the surfaced I smiled and took his card. I even made it sound like I was considering it. “Thanks.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Anytime.”
Finally, he was gone.
I waited for him to walk further away from us, and I made sure there was no one around before I took out that blindfold and tied it around Brody’s head. I also tied his hands behind his back with the cable ties I’d brought along on a hunch.
This was it, I thought to myself. I was really doing this. The thing with acting on impulse is that you only get this tiny window in which you have to get things done, and if you don’t, it could all be over in a second. I didn’t have time to stop and reevaluate my actions. I barely had enough time to drive back to my place.
And that’s exactly what I did.
3
He was nicely secured and on the floor of our bedroom.
By the time he came back to his senses, I was ready. He lifted his head and opened his eyes and when they got used to the dim lights, he looked around. His first instinct was to try to leave but his hands were still tied behind his back and he was chained to one of the bolts I’d fixed in the wall especially for him. To his credit he didn’t try to scream even though he must have been freaked out. “Still wanna play?”
I was a hundred percent certain he was going to back out.
I was a hundred percent wrong. “If you can be persistent, I can be stubborn.”
It sounded like a challenge but it was more than that.
It was submission.
It had been a while since I’d enjoyed the game. Not since you. Not since those stupid, waste of sperm cell, types started frequenting clubs. “What...no you’re crazy, get me out of here?”
“You are crazy,” he said. “I think we’ve already established that.”
I crouched in front of him and touched his face. “It would be so easy to fuck you up.”
He swallowed. The fear visible on his face didn’t lessen, it just got worse. “What’s the matter, Brody? Starting to rethink the whole adventure?”
“Maybe.”
I stood and kicked him in the ribs with my boot. He doubled over in pain. “Too late.”
I was about to do it again, when he started to freak out. “Whoa whoa whoa! We did not talk about kicking being part of it!”
I grinned and kicked him a second time and there was another yelp of pain and some heavy breathing as he tried to come to his senses. This time he didn’t say anything. “Not going to try and stop me, Brody?”
There was resignation in his tone. “Would it change anything?”
“Who did this to you?”
“What?”
“You don’t get this fucked in the head without an incident.”
“There’s no incident.”
“Yeah?” I said, crouching back down so I could gauge his expression. “So, you’re telling me your father didn’t shove you around when you were little? That he didn’t try to get one or two fingers past that ass of yours?”
He was clearly angry. “That never happened.”
“I think you’re lying, Brody. And I think I just hit a nerve.”
“I told you that never happened.”
“Wait… maybe it wasn’t Daddy. Oh no, your Dad was probably father of the year. How about an Uncle, Brody?” I paused. “Or maybe it was your teacher. Wait… was it Mr. Lerner? He was the one giving you private lessons, isn’t that right?” I stood and paced about the room. “You trusted him, Brody, and he broke your trust. He hurt you pretty bad, didn’t he? Twice you ended up in the hospital, but every time some unnamed school bully got implicated. But Mr. Lerner, he was the real school bully! All the other jocks were probably doing his bidding because he did to them what he did to you, or maybe not. Maybe he just made an example out of you, so that everyone else would fall in line. Isn’t that right Brody Mikkelsen?”
Once the shock wore off, he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “How do you...?”
“Never mind all that,” I said. “You were on your way to a full ride to the best colleges in the state, but he broke your arm. You had to spend weeks in the hospital but even after several corrective surgeries, they couldn’t fix you. You would never play football again,” I knelt in front of him, and touched his right shoulder. “That must have hurt.”
Everything that happened must have been going through his mind and it was obvious that he had no control over it. In a matter of a few moments, is whole demeanor changed. He went from a cocky kid to a broken little boy who I could see right through. “It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like then, Brody?”
“Mr. Lerner… Steven didn’t do it. He didn’t break my arm. It was the football team. They found out about us…”
“Is that what he told you?”
“That’s what happened!” Brody screamed. “They confronted me in the locker room… those stupid fucking jocks who I thought were my friends, but they found out I was gay and I know that’s what happened because I remember the sound of every fucking bone they broke and I remember it seemed like a million fucking years had passed even though they only had me in there for an hour.”
“They tortured you, all six of them, for an hour?”
>
“What difference does it make? It was a long time ago. It’s over.”
“It’s not over for you,” I said. “You’re obviously still in pain.”
He continued to stare at the floor. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
“I’m sorry, Brody,” I said, grabbing his head in one hand and kissing him. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He pulled away. “How long have you been stalking me?”
“Months. Is that a deal breaker?”
“Of course not.”
I laughed. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“You’re one to talk.”
“I guess I deserve that,” I kissed him again but he broke off. “Wait,” he said. “What do you mean you’ll make it up to me?”
I reached into my pocket for the same blindfold. “You’re about to find out.”
4
I pulled him away from the car and led him in the direction of the club entrance. “Let’s see how strong you really are,” I said, but he stopped. “Where are you taking me?”
“Meet with some friends of mine,” I answered, but he was freaking out again.
“What?!”
I raised the blindfold over his eyes resting on his forehead. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
He looked around. “We’re in a parking lot.”
“Really? I had no idea!”
“Dan… I don’t know how I feel about more people…”
“You don’t have to know. You just do as I say,” I lowered the blindfold. “Now, shut up.”
He didn’t speak at all after that and we made it to the entrance without him causing a fuss but I could tell he was agitated. He was losing control fast and while a part of him was enjoying the freedom, another part kept him grounded to the rational side of his brain. This wasn’t an issue. We just had to make sure we kept that rational part of him suppressed so he would be a willing participant instead of just being a victim.
“Jason?”
“Brody,” said the man I had spent far too long searching for.