Warning: 18+ readers only; this blog is dark and full of terrors!
This story contains questionable religious themes of a sexual nature, as well as mild to graphic gore, and scenes of a very erotic nature. Do not read on if these are things that you may find offensive or upsetting!
There's a sharp twinge in my back. I can't feel anything but pain shooting up and down my spine... if I even have one anymore. The loud, crashing noises have stopped... I'm glad... they were hurting my ears. There's a lot of voices around me, but I can't really determine one from another. I know Kaleb is here... oh Kaleb, my dear Kaleb... how could you let this happen? There are two others, or maybe three... I think one might be dead, but I can't be sure. I can only see straight ahead of me, but the perception is off... I think I'm lying on my side. Broken pews and coloured glass around me, and red... lots of red. I'm dying, and the frantic voices around me are fading, and my vision is abandoning me. And now there's nothing... nothing... oh Kaleb...
I wasn't really sure what brought us here, to this tiny little town, exactly. I'd been ferried about all over England since I was ten so I'd forgone searching for reasons, but we usually landed somewhere a little busier. My mother said it was because she detested living in the same place all the time and fancied somewhere different; I said it was because she didn't want my father to find us and he'd never think to look in a place like this. She'd remarried and had another child, but while I was still living at home - for lack of a better word - I was a constant reminder of her past, one she needed to hold on to for a few more years. In her mind, I was the only reason my father might come after us. She never told me the full story, as if it wasn't her who'd left him for another, but I couldn't see my father searching for long.
I suspected we moved here because she'd sent me to every other Catholic school this side of the island. As long as I could remember, I'd been dragged to church every Sunday without fail, and attended strict Catholic schools since I was five. After running out of mixed-sex schools, she'd somehow found an elite all-boys school, located by the famously beautiful Catholic church in the heart of Gravebrook with a rigorous religious programme. It was the perfect choice for me, apparently. As soon as she could, my mother shacked the four of us up in a big house about half a mile away, making sure I had the large attic bedroom so I could see the church from my window while staying out of her way.
We'd always had a lot of money. Throughout primary and secondary school, I'd turned up in a long series of Mercedes, BMWs, and even a Porsche once or twice, causing the teachers to frown and the other kids to gasp in amazement. My mother would spend hundreds of pounds enrolling me in just about every instrument class and sports club going, mostly to keep me out of the house. By the time we moved, I'd narrowed down my interests to violin and tennis and we'd not been in town more than two days before I found myself a member of the expensive and exclusive Gravebrook Tennis Club. This may have been my mother's way of keeping me out of sight, but it worked for me too; I couldn't stand being at home all the time, ignored by my stepfather and half-sister. I always felt I would've been better off in a boarding school, but I guess I wasn't allowed all that much freedom.
We'd moved in early November, but the new school term didn't start until January, so I was grateful for the tennis club. I'd never really made any lasting friends before so when I met Elias at the club, I was surprised at how quickly we bonded. He was kind, helpful, incredibly charming, and I enjoyed his company more than I thought was possible. But as the weeks went on, I noticed something wasn't quite right. I felt unsettled whenever he was around me, almost excitedly nauseated whenever I saw his name pop up on my phone. When I saw him coming out of the showers in the locker room, a towel around his waist and droplets of water running down his tanned and firm torso, frissons of hot excitement took over my body, and I found it hard to look away from him. And whenever he'd smile at me, my heart would flutter in my chest, making me feel dizzy and agonised.
By December, our friendship had blossomed further, and we would often see each other outside of the club. We'd go see a movie or have dinner, and he'd occasionally come to my violin recitals to hear me play or come to Saturday Mass with me. I was under no delusion; I'd developed a crush on Elias. But I hoped and prayed he didn't feel it too. The last thing I needed was to have another sin to confess, and if I acted on these feelings like I so desperately wanted to, I knew I'd be sent straight to Hell.
But then we kissed.
We were walking through an empty alleyway in the town centre late one night just after Christmas. Elias's cigarette had lost its flame, and so we huddled into a doorway so he could relight it. I laughed at him, chastising him for his habit as he let out a relieved exhale, making sure he blew the smoke away from me as usual. He looked at me, curiously, smirking a little, as if contemplating his actions before tossing his half-smoked cigarette aside and abruptly pulling me into a kiss.
That hot feeling consumed me, our lips colliding with urgency, my hands in his hair and his in my jeans. It was something utterly different to anything I'd experienced before, and it was the most delicious sin I'd ever tasted. I'd kissed girls before, but it was nothing so tempting as this. The effect Elias had on me... it was electric. Whether this was his intention all along I didn't know, but I didn't care; I was hooked. After that night, we saw each other more, but in private. He touched me in ways no one else had, and I experienced a kind of release I'd never felt with anyone else. It became love, or what I thought was love.
My first day of school wasn't nearly as daunting as it should have been, had I known what awaited me. I remember it like it happened only moments ago... I walked to the school gate, surrounded by other students, some of whom I knew from the tennis club. At first, everything was as expected; I'd had a million First Days at new schools, so I was used to it. But then... I felt strange. An almost nervous and nauseating feeling overcame me, quickly and only for a few seconds. But it was so sudden and unusual I couldn't entirely shake it, and the sensation of being watched haunted me throughout the day. And it happened every morning at the school gate, intensifying each day differently; sometimes it was as if a deep fear was rising inside of my body, and other days it was a shiver down my spine as if someone had walked over my grave.
As the weeks crawled by, bizarre visions would invade my consciousness, almost as if I was outside of my own body. They were really erratic, just flickering images at first; views of the river, or the church windows, or the school roof. But then the hallucinations grew stronger, more vivid, and horrifying. I would see someone standing in my room at night as if in a dream, and images of bloody bodies with mauled throats lying in front of me. They dissolved as quickly as they came, but left my heart shaken and terrified.
But that's was only the beginning...
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