Chapter contains scenes of graphic sexual nature!
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!
By four p.m, it's dark already, and I awake to the school bell ringing for the final time today. I stare from my window, hoping to get a glimpse of my new coveted meal. Just as the last of the students dissolves out of the grounds, I see Nathaniel coming through the doors carrying a violin case. I place a hand weakly on the window and lean my cold face on the glass, the hunger welling stronger within me, daring to escape at any moment.
If only you knew how much I wanted you…
Just then, his eyes look up, focusing on the steeple. He can't see me from there.
But he's looking right at me. He stands completely still and stares. His eyes on me feel like lightning repeatedly crashing into me, but I can't look away. My heart feels like it's sinking, rising in an awful dance and I clutch my chest; a beautifully painful sensation. Unable to endure any more, I drop to the ground, gasping for air. I'm growing weaker.
A moment passes, and I drag myself up for one final glance back out the window, but Nathaniel has moved on.
It's Friday evening, and the frozen streets are crowded. I try to concentrate on Nathaniel's whereabouts to take my mind off my hunger, but it only makes it worse. My eyes are slowly turning lilac, and I bite down on my lip as I drag myself into a pub.
When I enter, a warm light welcomes me, and there is a hint of tobacco scent in the air. The wooden walls and padded stools are slightly comforting, and if I were still a human, I would've stayed for a drink of something less deathly. I notice an already inebriated woman sleeping in the corner. She's in her thirties. I'm desperate and in luck.
The bartender notices me approach her, and a powerful Cockney voice assaults my ears. "Who the fuck are you?"
I try to stay calm. "She called me from her phone… I'm her…" I'm her what? Her boyfriend? No, I'm too young… "Son. I'm her son."
He backs down immediately as my fierce eyes stare him down; a little trick I like to call Persuasion. If he didn't believe me before, he does now. "Sorry, mate. You better take her home."
I haul the woman through the door, trying to look a little more concerned and worried than eager and hungry. She wakes a little and starts to stagger on her own. Her name is Fiona or Florence or something beginning with -- I don't care! I just want her.
I manage to find an empty street and pull her into a doorway of a boarded-up shop. She doesn't know what's going on and guilt stabs at my insides as I tear at her hungrily. But as I push hard against her, engulfing her deliciously thick and fragrant blood, my shame decays. She starts to struggle slightly as if coming to her senses. I hold her arms down tightly, crushing her bones, and her legs give way. I am unmovable in my steady delirium.
As her heartbeat decreases, I lick at the exposed gore like I'm demented. I can feel it ending. No, it can't be over yet! I pull away grudgingly, resting my face on her shoulder, catching my breath as my heart flutters stiffly, hers dead in her chest. Much too quick...
After a quiet moment, I step back and examine my work before pulling her scarf loosely around her neck. It's an absolute mess: tendons exposed, skin flaying, shards of spine impaling the flesh. I sit her dead body against the door frame. I know from experience that passers-by will probably assume she's drunk. I am so unsatisfied, so deep in longing for the blood of divine Nathaniel that I want to take this woman somewhere else and rip her apart. Only the constant noise of frivolity that reaches me from the frozen streets stops me: there are too many people. The urge to pull out her heart and squeeze it into my mouth is overpowering, but the fear of getting caught is more so.
Walking away, I feel my hunger fade and a sudden conflicting stab. Nathaniel. He's across town.
And he's with Elias.
I take the bus to the small residential area where Elias must live, with its big, newly built houses that I realise are actually flats. It doesn't seem overly upper class, much like the area surrounding the church. Frosted Nissans and Audis line the street and sit in driveways. The gardens are decorated with scarved snowmen, and a warm feeling fills the whole street, disregarding the icy chill.
Lights flash, and music thumps from the windows of one of the lower flats and I edge closer to investigate. I spot Nathaniel right there in the kitchen, sipping gingerly from a cup of some kind of alcoholic beverage and chatting awkwardly to a big-breasted girl with the same black hair and dark skin as Elias. Her body language suggests interest, but he is nonchalant. He feels awkward, his eyes darting around the room as the girl leans closer to him.
I search for that bastard Elias, but he's nowhere to be seen.
Just then he walks in, identical cup in hand. Nathaniel's angelic face lights up upon seeing him, and my heart breaks a little. My Nathaniel…
"Nate," he calls him. Their faces are very close, and I see their eyes glance at each other's lips. Their friends don't know of their relationship.
A subtle touch on his hand and Nathaniel puts down his cup, following Elias out the room. I try to fool myself into thinking I don't know what's going on.
I lean my back against the wall as red tears stream down my cheeks. How can I be so affected by these people I don't even know? How can I want someone I've never met? But my heart doesn't love. It only desires.
Father is waiting for me when I return. He's kneeling in front of the altar, and I stand next to him.
"Kaleb, what's the matter? Why have you been crying?"
"I just want to forget about today... will you help me?" With my hands clasped, I shut my eyes, unsure of whether I'm talking to God or Father. Forget him.
My heart fills with ache as I feel a gentle pressure on my shoulder. Father has stood and is looking down at me.
I take his hand and lead him into the confessional, locking the door. Try to forget him... I'm pressed against his robust figure now, gently running my teeth on his neck as he feels me under my now unfastened jeans. I'm fighting back the tears as I kneel down before him. Before I can unzip his black trousers, I feel his hand on my cheek.
"Darling Kaleb…" and he crouches down, kissing my tear-stained cheeks then roughly on the lips. I can taste blood as my teeth cut his tongue, but he continues to push against me lustfully. He turns me over, barely pulling my jeans down before frantically taking me. With each hard grind, I cry out, my knees aching on the wooden floors.
And I hate myself for enjoying it.
When we're done, I find myself asking him "Can I pray with you?"
"Of course," he says softly. "The Lord loves even the fallen angels."
We kneel in front of the chancel, and I hold my rosary in my hands.
Our Father, who art in Heaven… Hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come…
I can see Elias touching Nathaniel.
Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven… Give us this day our daily bread…
Hands moving lower and lower…
And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…
Nathaniel isn't enjoying it. He wants him to stop, but he touches him back...
And lead us not into temptation…
Tears stream from my eyes, willing him to stop, willing Elias to leave.
Deliver us from Evil.
I open my eyes. The images stop.
Father is looking at me, perplexed. "Kaleb, what's the matter?"
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