Dark Temptations

by Eric Alan Williams

  K2 lowered his head. Xairin pointed at him and spoke rather harshly through gritted teeth. “You and I will finish this conversation later.”

  Damien pat Xairin on the shoulder. “If you cannot control yourself, I will make you leave Xairin. I mean it. I know you’re hurting, but this is not going to solve anything.”

  Xairin nodded. “Fine, you’re right. Let’s just find a seat.”

  Damien followed Xairin while he looked around for an open seat. The service was laid out, with only one family member being recognized, Rory’s grandmother. It was well known among any of Rory’s friends, that she was the only true supporting family member he had. Given the way his parents had treated him, along with a few other family members, his grandmother, Margie Winstead, hadn’t invited any of them. In fact, she dared them to come.

  Xairin had met the older woman several times. He could see her sitting up front in her hoverchair with a rainbow flag in her lap, folded neatly. He figured that was going on top of the coffin. Rory wasn’t in the military, but was a strong advocate, and had helped so many LGBT youths. The man deserves a proper send-off in Xairin’s mind.

  Xairin found a seat two rows behind Topher and the man that was with him. Xairin hadn’t met him yet. All he could make out was the man was taller than Topher by about a foot and had short brown hair.

  Rory was ever a prankster. His grandmother had arranged for music to be playing a song called Prank-Star, by a group known as Hashtag Now. The band often spoofed current hits. Margie must have thought it would be appropriate.

  Margie wasn’t very religious, but she did attend a Lutheran church here and there. It was a church just a block away from where she and her grandson lived. St Luckus.

  The Reverend, Yale Burnside, had been asked to preside over the funeral. Yale was a young man, just assigned to St Luckus. He had an upbeat vibe to him. The gentleman was dressed in a white robe, had a bible in front of him, and stood right on a temporary dais, that was made of purple lights. It was like Xairin’s armor, a holographic projection coming from a small box big enough to fit in the palm of an adult hand. It solidified once the particles were in place.

  The neatly groomed man stood there, waiting for everyone to take their seats. Once the last one was sitting, he pulled his white hood back. Xairin could see his lite brown hair and goatee. He had never met Yale but had heard on a few occasions from Rory that St Luckus was very accepting of LGBT people. Rumor had it that Yale was bisexual. Yale started speaking. “We are gathered here today, to lay to rest, a man that clearly had so many friends and touched the lives of even more.”

  “I first met Rory Winstead six years ago over at St John's when I was studying to become a Reverend.” The man seemed to choke up a little. “I can’t tell you how many times he asked me to come to one of the shelters he would volunteer at and bring Soul Force pamphlets and help minister to some of the youth he worked with.”

  Yale’s brown teary eyes surveyed the crowd. “Rory loved helping children. Rory loved working at the cloning center, helping make sure the world had enough to eat. Rory was someone that this world really needs right now, and I can only pray to God, that this tragedy, somewhere, has a purpose.”

  “I’m not going to go all religious on you all today. I know many of the LGBT here have been beaten down enough by religion, but I will say this. God loves everyone, God loves Rory, and God loves you… I want to say to everyone here, that has been hurt by religion, that I am so sorry. That is not what our God is about. The God I know loves and forgives, he’s not what some of these, what I am going to call, crazy Christians, say… He is a God of love and mercy. I have no doubt that we didn’t lose our friend Rory who believed in God, but we gained an angel to watch over each and every life he worked with and spent his time with when he was here.”

  “When Margie called me to tell me what had happened. My heart broke.”

  Xairin was looking at Yale. He couldn’t help but seep into the man’s mind. The man was coming off too genuine. Xairin had issues with religion in general and hated it when a pastor would use a funeral as a recruitment tool; so far, he wasn’t getting that vibe. All he wanted to do was see what the man was thinking and verify the man’s intent. When he did, he heard, right as he said, his heart broke. “God, why did it have to be Rory? When are you going to make sure they catch the people responsible for five of my parishioners being taken like this?”

  Xairin instantly withdrew.

  “Margie asked me to let anyone know if they had something to add, to please come forward before we commit our friend to the soil.”

  Yale looked around. Topher was the first to stand up.

  “Come on up,” Yale said with an inviting tone.

  Topher was dressed in a white suit. He walked up and stood on top of the Hologram. He looked down then out into the crowd. “I’ve never been on one of these holograms before.” He saw Xairin, then looked at everyone else and rested his eyes on Margie sitting in her golden painted hoverchair. “I can’t know how much grief you’re going through, Miss Winstead. I know how much it hurts for me, I feel like I lost a brother, but you, I can’t imagine the pain.”

  The woman teared up.

  “I had known Rory for years, a decade or more. I first met him playing pool at some bar I can't even remember the name of. I think it was called The Hideaway, not sure. Anyhow. He beat me at three games of pool and walked away with about five hundred in currency from me that night. I loved to pick on him about that. That one of these days, I was going to win my currency back.” Topher’s eyes watered, his mouth quivered as his voice choked up. “I’m never going to get to pick on him again. I’m not going to get to watch him hustle the college guys who flocked to the pool tables at my club. And I’m not going to get to see his face, smiling every time he came in.”

  Topher looked up. “Right before this happened. Rory was telling me about how he was going to adopt one of the scavenger kids that had been displaced due to being gay. I was so proud of how far Rory had come, and how many lives he had helped, and that night, how proud I was that he was going to take in someone that had nothing. No words can describe how good a person, Rory, was.”

  Topher couldn’t finish and left the podium.

  Hilda Morgan, one of his coworkers, was next. Xairin had never met her but had heard about her. She worked with him at the cloning facility. He watched the white-haired woman, take the podium. She, too, was at a loss for saying much. “Rory was probably one of the best people I ever worked with. He and I worked together, overseeing a lot of the meat going in and out of Bastion City. He had a passion for making sure animals didn’t need to die so that people could live. As the Rev said, Rory wanted to make sure people had what they needed. One side of Rory that most people probably knew is that he loved playing pranks on people.” She started to chuckle as tears flowed down her cheeks. “He knew I was afraid of spiders… He got one of those robotic spiders the ones with the remote controls and sent it under the employee bathroom door.” She laughed as she wiped away tears. “I thought I was going to kill him that day. I came running out of that bathroom with my panties down around my ankles, thanks to him. And He just sat there laughing so hard he rolled to the floor. Rory was my favorite goofball to work with. So, when I heard what happened. I just couldn’t believe it until right now.” She looked at Margie. “I am so sorry for you.”

  Seven others had taken the podium as Xairin sat there trying to keep his tears from washing his face better than a shower could. Each person had similar stories. Pranks, Rory being an eager ear to listen, to even one of Rory’s sexual escapades that had people laughing.

  The next step up was the new drag queen. Xairin watched her walk up in her overly exaggerated high heels, and that white dress, that seemed to be changing colors as she moved. She stood there for a moment and looked up. Xairin could hear people whispering about the type of sunglasses she was wearing. If he could listen to it, he knew she could too. She waited for a moment. “Yes, I’m a vampir
e, deal with it.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know Rory long, just a few weeks, but in that time, I can tell you he didn’t judge anyone. That was what I liked about him.” She pointed at Topher. “I also learned not to bet him any currency at laser pool. Here I thought I was unstoppable at it, and I met my match the first time I played him. I wasn’t going to say anything today since I’m someone he just met, but, after being around for about a hundred years, it was nice seeing how friendly and accepting he was for a human.” She walked off the sparkling stage.

  Xairin sat there, taking everything in. He watched Lucretia make her speech in his suit, and it was the same as everyone else. “Rory was an awesome guy.” Baxter decided to sit there, which Xairin figured he would at least say something, then again, looking at how emotionally distraught he looked in his face, Xairin got it, Baxter was just too upset.

  Xairin wanted to say his goodbyes to his friend, but his emotions had him feeling like his entire insides were being shaken by an internal quake. His heart pounded; his breathing was erratic. But he just couldn’t, not, say anything.

  Xairin decided to stand up and walk to the podium. He heard a few whispers as people recognized the eyewear. He didn’t care. The drag queen he saw performing the other night, nailed that issue enough. He didn’t need to touch on it. Taking the mic, he cleared his throat. “I know a lot of people that knew Rory would like to be up here.” He looked around. “Telling your story about how much Rory meant to you. I get it, I wasn’t sure if I could come up here and talk about it either.” He sighed. “Rory was the first person I met when I came to live in Bastion City.” He smiled. “He even tried to take me home that first night he met me, I went home with him, and…” Xairin chuckled with tears.

  "We ended up playing video games all night long, talking. After that, we became the best of friends.” Xairin pointed out into the crowd. “He introduced me to most of you here today. I wouldn’t have the close friends that I have if it weren’t for Rory. Or all the laughs he gave me.” He looked at some of the people scoffing. He decided to touch on something after he heard someone whisper the word “Race Traitor.” Xairin let out a tearful laugh. “Of all places to be judgmental, this isn’t one of those places. Yes, I’m talking to you, the person that just called me a race traitor.” Xairin pointed at his right ear. “Vampiric hearing gotta love it.” He looked around. “I can promise Rory one thing, being an Immortal, I can cherish his memory forever, forever… And I vow to do that, Rory Winstead.” He looked directly at the man who made that comment, “I will cherish his memory far longer than you ever can.” Xairin stepped off the stage.

  Right as Xairin stepped off the podium, he heard something. He heard chanting in the background. He looked up right before he took the last step off the podium and scanned the distance. Of all things to happen at a funeral, protestors were out in force just beyond the curvy road that led to where Rory was being laid to rest. “What in the gay hell is this shit?” Xairin blurted out, right as the humans started hearing the same thing.

  They kept their distance, but it was clearly a fanatical religious group. They were using holographic signs. The signs were like a sword’s hilt. They could download the displays they wanted, and simply press buttons along the metal hilts for the holographic emitter to shoot up into the air. One man had a holocannon strapped to a backpack on his back. It was shooting a display five times larger than any billboard Xairin had ever seen up into the air about a hundred feet high, and a hundred feet wide. It read in big, bold red letters, “PRAY FOR MORE DEAD FAGGOTS!”

  Xairin saw one protester, a man, on the chubby side, holding a laser display reading. “Fags and Mind Witches are against GOD!”

  Another had a sign reading, “Race Traitors are traitors against GOD!”

  The other signs the protestors were carrying were just as nasty. Three of them had the same sigh, reading, “You are going to HELL!” Several others, had similar, “Fags doom the world!” A woman near the front had a microphone and began speaking. “GOD HATES FAGS!, GOD HATES FAGS!” She chanted this until every one of the forty-two protesters chanted it.

  Damien rushed to Xairin’s side. Xairin looked as if he could have leaped from that podium and began turning those protestors into bloody confetti. “Xairin, this is not the place.” He whispered.

  “What the hell is going on?” Xairin asked.

  The protestors didn’t move, they just got louder.

  Margie, Rory’s grandmother, lowered her head. She pressed a button on her hoverchair and drove it with a joystick until she was on top of the podium. Yale Burnside went over to the podium and cranked up the volume as best as he could. The old woman managed to speak loud enough for the congregation before her to hear. “I will apologize for these people being here. I wouldn’t let Rory’s parents be here because there is a good chance, they would have had the protestors right here instead of over there.” She whimpered. “I want to thank everyone for coming. The love each of you has for my precious grandson warms my heart. Thank you.” She pressed her joystick and hovered off the landing.

  The Reverend, Yale Burnside, did the best he could to provide a few more words of encouragement and finished with the expected. “Rory Winstead, you passed away on Wednesday, June 22nd, due to a senseless act, and I pray that your soul is at peace. We commit you in the presence of those who love you, and cherish the memories you leave with them, we commit you to Almighty God on this day, Friday, July 1st, 2118. Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust. Amen…”

  The seats started to empty.

  Topher noticed Damien having Xairin on a handheld leash. He walked up to him. “Can I help you?”

  Damien could see Topher’s eyes looking at his grip on Xairin’s arm. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

  Xairin looked at Topher. “It is okay, Toph. My grandfather here is just keeping me from doing something that might make the news.”

  “Grandfather?”

  “Long story Toph, too long. But yes. Damien Winters…” He pointed at Topher. “This is my other bestie, Topher Haze.” Xairin looked at Damien, “He’s the one that owns the club I like to go to.”

  Xairin smirked. “Can you let go of me now? I promise I won't go over there and make it look like a bunch of assholes got shoved into a woodchipper.”

  Damien slowly let go.

  Agent Ezra Huxley made his way over to the protestors and began yelling as best as he could. He tried to get the situation under control. K2 was helping him.

  Xairin looked from where he was standing. He was in between Topher and Damien. Lucretia approached, giving up her effeminate voice since she was out of character. “Damn Bible Thumpers.”

  “Is this even legal? At a funeral?”

  Hell-in Bed walked up behind Lucretia. She let out a drawn-out sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. About a hundred years ago or so, there was this church out of Kansas that did horrible crap like this all the time. Protesting funerals of soldiers, other religious faith leaders, and yes, the LGBTQ.”

  Hell-in looked at each of them. “Live long enough I guess you see history repeat. The law that did come about banning protesting at a funeral was eventually repealed about twenty years ago when I woke up from my first hibernation. It was the first thing I checked on when I went to the courthouse and faked being someone displaced from World War IV.”

  “Which church would do this?” Xairin asked.

  Lucretia pointed. “The name is on their shirts Xairbear.”

  Xairin rolled his eyes at his nickname and zoomed them in onto one of the protester's white shirts. “Fraternity of the Rising Sun.”

  Topher sighed. He noticed some of Rory’s coworkers, along with teens from the center, that they had been allowed to come. He pointed at a dark-haired boy wearing blue scrubs and wearing a pair of sungoggles. “I guess that’s Reese?”

  Xairin looked over and noticed. “Reese?”

  Topher wiped tears from his eyes. He could see the boy fighting his own tears while managing his protective eyew
ear. “Reese Lawndale, I think that’s the kid Rory was going to try and adopt.”

  “Rory touched so many lives,” Xairin said while looking over his shoulder at the protestors. “He deserved far better than this, any of it.”

  Chapter 2

  The protestors knew they had to be at least one hundred yards away from the actual services. They maintained that, but it didn't stop them from being verbally offensive as those paying their respects tried to leave. Xairin kept eyeing them as he passed. Seeing through his glasses, one yelled at him. "DAMN RACE TRAITOR! I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL!"

  Seeing all of this going on, it started making Xairin feel something else, he wondered, if there was more to Rory's death than just six murderous bastards going around killing sensitives and those who got involved with them. Something about this protest felt off, aside from the morality of it.