The Boy || Chapter Five: in which, truths are told, and lies lead to injustice

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!

    I awoke dazed and nauseated with only a hazy memory of the last minutes of the night before; vague visions of Kaleb's voice and profuse apologies at my barely conscious body. I weakly touched what should have been a bloody wound on my neck, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. Any excess blood must have been lapped up by Kaleb's hungry tongue... or had it all been a dream?  My head was thumping, and I could hear faint high-pitched sounds with each throb.  

    I faded in and out of consciousness with each intermittent beep for a few seconds before realising the noises weren't in my head. Clumsily, I grabbed at my bedside table, attempting to find my phone with my fumblings.  Who the hell is messaging me at this time in the morning?

    With blurry vision, I struggled to read the messages: dizzy words "Blocked ID" along with a rather juvenile threat, most likely written by someone with very little imagination and too much time on their hands, I thought. "Watch if you DARE!" struggled to have an effect on me and my vampire-hangover-addled brain, but as I was about to put my phone down and go back to sleep, another message came up on the screen.

    It was a video upload, entitled "What is Kaleb really up to?" and I was immediately curious.

    Regardless of my lack of vision, the images that flickered on the screen were clear enough; I was thoroughly awake now, unable to turn my gaze away. There was no sound other than rustling footsteps among leaves, the camera filming from outside someone's livingroom, peeping through the window. An almost naked Father Clarke entered the scene, and I cringed a little, but my embarrassment shortly turned to horror. I watched the rigid conversation between Clarke and Kaleb before something utterly disgusting happened that wounded me far more profoundly than any of the gashes I'd received mere hours before.

    I couldn't leave the bed; I couldn't face anyone or do anything but cry. Even when I thought I'd finished, I'd think of the video, and a new storm would flood my eyes. I dreaded the nightfall because Kaleb would undoubtedly come to me, and I would have to confront him. Never had I felt so much hatred towards anyone as I did towards him that day.

    It wasn't long after ten when I heard a faint knock on my window. I wanted to ignore it, ignore what I'd seen earlier, ignore how hurt and in-love I felt, but I couldn't do any of it. I faced the wall, listening to knock after knock, tears threatening to reappear. It took a lot of effort, emotionally and physically, to regain composure but as soon as I heard Kaleb's voice in my head, my wall of poise was crumbling again.

    "Are you okay?"

    "Yes," I said aloud, my voice cold and quiet.

    There was a brief, tense silence between us.

    "Can I come in?"

    With great pain, I dragged myself from my bed, and opened the window, keeping my eyes locked away from his penetrating gaze.

    As soon as he hopped down from the ledge, he tenderly stroked my downturned face, concerned words falling from his lying mouth.  

   "Are you hurt?" He asked, examining what was left of his love bite, affectionately running his warm fingers over the faint mark. The immediate contentment I felt at his touch was conflicted with the grief in my stomach. Fighting the urge to vomit, I pushed his hand away.

    "Stop."

    "Nathaniel, what's wrong? I'm sorry if I hurt you last night -"

    "You think that's why I'm upset? Really?"

    His expression was suddenly blank, his eyes growing yellow and grey and pink all at once. He took a step back, looking away from me.

    "Well?" My voice was so quiet I barely even heard it, and he shrank away from me like he couldn't kill me in seconds. I waited anxiously for his answer, hoping that somehow it had all been fake, or it was an old video and he just so happened to be wearing the same clothes as last night. I was praying so hard that he could hear me. He must have because the silence that followed spoke volumes until he finally opened his mouth.

    "How did you find out?"

    Any faith I had in him was annihilated entirely with those five simple words. I watched a red tear trickle down his face, and I looked away, no longer able to look at his pretty face.  Wrong answer.

    "Was I... not enough for you?" My voice came thick, my eyes squeezing shut at the image of Kaleb and father Clarke burned onto my retinas, the near violence and bloodiness of it.

    "I didn't go there for that... He..." He couldn't even look at me, his eyes staring off somewhere under my bed. "I didn't want to do that."

    "You sure looked like you wanted to."

    "I wanted to kill him."

    "There's a huge difference between killing and fucking, Kaleb." I couldn't hold back my tearful anger. "Although there's a pretty fine line with you, isn't there?"

    As he stared at me, his eyes flooded with blood and every colour I'd seen in them, the pain radiating from them. I didn't feel sorry for him then. He deserved it, I thought. But as I watched him lifting himself onto the window ledge, I could tell he wanted to say something, but if he did, I never heard anything. He was gone before I could ask him.

    Of course, at the time I had no idea what had really happened between them, only what I'd seen on the screen. I didn't know there was something else looming in the shadows.

    And neither did Kaleb.

    After he left, I couldn't help but wish for him to return, to tell me the full story. How could you go from wanting to kill someone to... that? I didn't know what he could've said to me that would've made it better, but I wanted him to lie to me, manipulate me, make me forget, make it go away.

    But he never came back. Several nights passed, and he didn't reappear. I didn't see him again before I went back to school.

    It took me over two weeks of wallowing in heartbreak to decide to find him. I wanted an explanation, a real one. And if that meant getting past Father Clarke, I was willing to do that.

    I chose a weekday, not long before sunset. Part of me feared seeing Father Clarke, but I also thrived on it. I could pretend I knew nothing, regardless of how difficult it would be. But when I stood facing him and his innocent, charming smile, I just couldn't.

    The whole length of pews stood between us, as well as a thickening silence.

    He stared at me with concern for only a second before he spoke. "I thought you'd come by sooner."

    "Where is he?" I didn't mean to come across so demanding, but my stomach was a storm of nerves and anger. "I need to speak to him."

    "I'm assuming you mean Kaleb?" Father Clarke smirked, shaking his head as he looked away. "He's not here. He left... when was it? About three weeks ago?"

   My mouth gaped. "Where did he go?"

   "Who knows? He's probably a charred mess by now. He was distraught when he left..." The fake sweetness in his voice and the sneer that followed made me feel sick to my stomach as my heart beat fast in my chest.

   "You're lying..." My voice trembled. "Tell me where he is."

   Father Clarke laughed as he floated towards me. "Sweet Nathaniel, you must have really upset the poor boy that night..."

    I could feel it; that aura of evil, now sickeningly close, that blood-curdling feeling, only now it was stronger than ever.

    I edged backwards, too scared to take my eyes off him for a second. I looked down at his feet as he came closer, his shoes not even touching the ground.

    I froze, unable to move. I wanted to scream, or cry, or run, but I couldn't do anything but stare in horror as Father Clarke quickly approached me.

    The door slammed behind me, and everything went dark.

    "You said he'd come." That voice again, that dark figure.

    "He will. He knows Nathaniel is here. He'll come."

    It hurts. Everything hurts. I can't see, only hear the voices and feel the evil steeping the room.

     A crash; the doors are open, a gust of wind on my skin. The ropes on my wrists burn, but I can't move to struggle.

    "He's here."

The Boy || Chapter Four: in which, we gratify the desires of the flesh

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!

    I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed by eight the next morning. It was hard after only six hours of sleep. My mother had gone to help clean the church as she usually did on Thursdays and she'd only take an hour or so. I needed to get up before she returned because the alternative just wasn't worth the hassle.

    I was stretched on my bed, casually browsing various social media on my phone when my mum burst through my door. She looked like a wild thing, with her hair a damp, tousled mess from the rain, her face red with fury, so much so I could almost see steam pluming from her ears, and she hadn't even removed her shoes; clearly, something was very wrong.

    "How could you lie to your own mother?!"

    A thousand deceitful moments came to mind. How many lies had I told in the last six months? Countless. Which could she even be talking about?

    "Mum, calm down -"

    "How can I?! When my own son lies to my face every day!" Already this was the most she'd said to me since we moved to Gravebrook. "Father Clarke told me all about it, so don't try denying it."

    I squinted at her, thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about?"

    "You promised me you'd been going to mass on Saturdays. And I was foolish enough to believe you!"

    My mouth gaped, left ajar for whatever defence was about to leave my lips. This was probably the one thing I hadn't lied about; I had been going to mass. Even though the sight of Father made me sick, I'd still gone, sat at the back, praying for it to be over. I had grudgingly listened to his preachings, deciding against any reflection, but I still counted that. And then I'd get up and go to violin lessons. "I admit, I skipped out after Communion, but I swear to you, Mum -"

    "Lying again!" She threw her hands in the air, looking fit to slap me. "What did I do to deserve a son like this? A lying sodomite!"

    The last word stung in my chest. "... Sodomite?"

    She simmered then, glaring at me, bubbling in her pot of rage. Her voice was quiet but full of hate. "You think I didn't notice how you were? With that Elias? Do you think I didn't hear about the rumours from the tennis club?" Her expression looked almost exactly like Greg's had before he threatened to kill me. "I know all about your sordid little... affair." 

    Wounded, I glanced away. I couldn't keep staring at my mother in silent horror, but I couldn't find the words to defend myself either.

    "My son..." Her face continued to contort as if she'd smelled something rotting. "Detestable."

    I should've stood up and denied it, or admitted it, or just said something. But I just sat on the edge of my bed, facing my window, as if my mother wasn't stood there berating me like I'd spilt paint on her brand new carpet.

    "You're grounded."  

    I watched in horror as she stomped across the room, grabbing my violin case wildly.

    "No, you can't!" I protested, finally finding my voice in my stupor, bolting up from the bed. "What about practice and lessons? I need it!"

    "You should have thought about that before you turned against the Lord." She headed for the door, barely able to look at me. "No leaving the house except for school and mass, which you'll be attending on Sundays as well from now on. You will stay in your room until mealtimes. None of this sneaking out that you think I haven't noticed." She turned to me. "Do you hear?"

    I glared down at her, ragged breath forcing through my nose.

    "Be grateful I'm not sending you off to that boarding school in Ireland." With that, my mother slammed my door behind her, leaving me to steep in my anger.

    I should be so lucky.

    I didn't go down to eat when my mother called up, and no one came up to convince me. I couldn't even stand the thought of being near my ambiguous family. So out of our boredom and sadness, I went to bed irrationally early. I didn't plan on falling asleep at only six p.m, but I must have; another strange dream came to me.

    A tall figure stood at the bottom of my bed. "You are in a dangerous position... He wants you, and he'll get you. You want to trust him, but you can't trust a Locust." That same hazy voice from last time, but even though all I could see was a shadowy silhouette, it still sparked a fierce dread inside me.

    A faint knocking on hollow glass awoke me. The figure was gone when I opened my eyes, but another one was at my window, tapping gently along with the heavy raindrops. 

    "Kaleb?" I whispered into my darkened room. I crawled out of bed and opened the window. "What are you doing here? You're soaked." He hopped in, landing lightly on the carpet.

    "I wanted to see you..." He smiled. "I feel bad about what I said yesterday, and how I said it... I'm sorry."

    "Never mind that," I said. "Give me your coat."

    I wanted to take his jacket and put it over my heater, but he insisted it didn't matter. "But you must be freezing... your clothes are drenched."  

    "I don't usually feel the cold after... uh, feeding..." he stuttered. "It normally keeps me warm for ages."

    I looked away. "I want to go out but... I'm under house arrest."

    "Did something happen?" Kaleb placed a hand on my neck with such tenderness I immediately opened up to him, and his expression slowly changed. "Oh..." He smiled cheerfully, lifting my mood instantly. "But we can go out of the window; I'll help you. What do you want to do?"

    I pretended to think about it, but I already knew. "I want to see it."

    "... See what?" Kaleb looked perplexed, but it only took a second for him to realise what I meant. "Nathaniel, you can't... it's too dangerous, and I've already fed tonight. I'm good for a couple of hours."

    I don't know why I wanted to see him suck the life out of another human being, but Dark Nate, who found that behaviour so alluring, was resurfacing. "Please?"

    "I don't want you to see... that side of me again." Kaleb looked away before taking his hand from me, breaking our delicate contact. "I'm still embarrassed about the last time."

    "I'm sorry, I just..." I couldn't think of a way to describe my reasons.

    "Have a morbid fascination with all this now?" He gestured towards himself, unimpressed. "You don't... want to be this way, do you?"

    I let out an uneasy smile. "I can't help it."

    Kaleb sighed heavily, seemingly annoyed. "Fine... maybe this time will put you off the idea."

    I couldn't help but grin at the prospect, imagining in my head that it would be as romantic and fantastical as Dracula had made it seem.

    "It's not like that at all," Kaleb's monotone voice interrupted my thoughts as I dressed.  

    He was right. It really wasn't.

    Kaleb was quiet and withdrawn as we walked through the wet streets, looking for criminals and vagabonds. Puddles lined the roads, but it had stopped raining for now.

    He'd already killed two that night and didn't really feel up to it, I could tell. "I've not really done this on a full stomach since I was a fledgeling," he said with a bit of shame as he guided me down an alleyway - the same one Elias and I had shared our first kiss. I wasn't sure whether Kaleb realised or not.

    "Stay here and keep out of sight." He kissed me briefly before he reluctantly disappeared. 

    I was suddenly terrified; part of me was already regretting it as I cowered behind the bin recess. I stared ahead at the doorway in which Elias and I kissed, trying to force those memories out of my head.

    I waited over fifteen minutes. I was thinking that Kaleb had maybe left me there when I heard him coming around the corner, a drunken young man from one of the pubs following him, as if in a trance; blonde, tall, quite strapping. I was momentarily fascinated, but that feeling changed very quickly. As the stranger pulled him into a passionate kiss, it was then I understood the kind of people Kaleb would take when his other type wasn't available. As I took a few steps closer, I felt a deep and almost dangerous envy burn inside me, watching their embrace grow more intense. But then I realised it wasn't as harmless as it seemed. Kaleb was holding tight to him, and I could see blood dripping from the boy's chin.

    The boy let out a moan that sounded like it could be for the pain or pleasure of it. Kaleb reached up to the boy's hair and pulled his head back, exposing the veins on the neck. I couldn't take my eyes off them as he finally tore into him, driving his teeth into the artery. There was no longer that strange, sensual struggle between them and within seconds, the body had grown entirely limp. Kaleb let it fall to the ground before he turned to me, a look of unmistakable shame across his face, letting me know it was safe to approach him. But as soon as I got close, he grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the body quickly. I saw the boy's face; youthful, undoubtedly attractive, now cold and dead, sending a wave of terror down my spine.

    "You were the one who wanted to see..." Kaleb said defensively as we turned the corner, sensing my fear. "I told you it was scary and awful. So now you know -"

    I didn't stop myself kissing him right there in the middle of the street. I pushed him into an empty shop doorway, letting myself melt into the slow, deliberateness of it. I could feel his warm hands in my jacket and under my t-shirt, moving around to my back. The rain started to fall again, but I didn't care. Not even the dead body a few metres away was enough to deter me. All I could think was what the hell is wrong with me?

    "Maybe we should go back now?" I heard him say, our tongues thoroughly occupied. I knew we should, but I couldn't tear myself away from him.

    Kaleb pushed me away lightly. "I thought I scared you?"

    "Only for a second." I smiled. We started to walk back then, the rain drenching us slowly.

    By the time we were climbing back through my bedroom window, I could feel the painful rumble of an empty stomach. After changing back into my pyjamas and lending some to Kaleb while his clothes dried, I lead him down to the kitchen.

    He wandered around in a daze, marvelling at the black and white tiles, oak cabinets and counters, and expensive appliances. I could hear him as I poked through the fridge.  

    "I've never seen a kitchen like this." He ran his hands over the island counters and across the breakfast bar as I placed two slices of bread in the toaster. I chuckled, thinking about how cute he was being, but as I turned back around, I felt all the air leave my lungs.

    In his hand was a very red apple from the fruit bowl that I didn't remember being there. As I watched him inspect it, a strange emotion came over me. It was painfully familiar, not unlike those feelings I'd had before, those uneasy, anxious sensations. It had been a very long time since I'd felt them and I hadn't missed them. I turned back to the toaster, trying to ignore the dark presence immersing the room.

    "What are you doing?" I asked as he continued to examine the apple. There was an almost vacant look in his eyes, his irises slowly turning red as he looked at it.

    "I like the colour..."

    He looked up at me suddenly, his eyes blue and animated again, and held out the fruit. 

    "Don't you want it?"

    I turned back to the counter, busying myself with the toast, chewing the corner off nervously. I felt Kaleb come up behind me, feeling for my waist, his hands empty now. "What's the matter?"

    I closed my thoughts as much as I could. "I just don't really eat apples." I really didn't want to have to lie to him again. "No one in my family really does..."

    I felt his nose nudge my shoulder, and I turned around, lifting my hands to his neck. His eyes were remarkably bright from all the blood he'd had, pink flecks appearing amongst blue now, reminding me of the first stages of a sunrise. I wanted to kiss him, watching his lips as a small smile crept across them, but before I could, he pulled away.

    "I'll wait in your room for you."

    He disappeared so quickly that I couldn't be sure he'd been there in the first place. I got the surreal feeling that I'd imagined him here the whole time.

    I tiptoed through the house, praying with every inch of my body that no one would hear me. When I reached the first floor and stood at the bottom of the stairs, I faintly heard a violin playing Moonlight Sonata, the notes growing louder as I ascended the steps to my room.

    The door creaked as it edged open, and the music stopped abruptly. Kaleb sat on my bed with his back against the wall, knees bent up slightly, my violin in his hands.

    "I've just always wanted to play..." he said apologetically, laying the violin back in the case.

    "No, it's fine... but," I paused, walking over to the bed, "How did you find it?"

    He looked away. "It was in the hall cupboard."

    "How do you know how to play if you've never... played one?" I asked, sitting next to the case. "It took me seven years to learn that piece."

    "I just... played it." Kaleb frowned, closing himself off from me, a dark shadow masking his face. "I've heard this piece a lot lately when I dream. I used to play it on my piano many years ago." The colour drained from his eyes only for a second, and they were blue again. "Will you play for me?"

    I stared at him, still shaken by his heartfelt words. There were many afternoons recently that I'd spent performing Moonlight Sonata for him. Whenever I'd heard it, I would think of him lying in his lonely coffin, but I never thought he'd actually hear my serenades.

    I took the violin from the case and facing away from him, held it to my neck. I didn't think about what I was playing; it was just random notes, hoping they would sound nice together. It wasn't something I did often, but I always enjoyed it. I closed my eyes and left my fingers to build the melody, gliding the bow on the strings gently. I thought of the dream garden as I played, letting it be the muse for this nocturne. I don't know how long I played for before I felt Kaleb edge closer to me. I placed the violin back in its case and set it on the floor, feeling almost weightless, as if I'd made some great confession to him. 

    "What was that?" His voice was quiet.

    "I don't know."

    He paused for a few seconds. "Thank you."

    I turned my body to face him. "What for?"

    Kaleb smiled again. "Playing for me."

    I wasn't sure whether he meant then or the afternoon lullabies. In fact, I couldn't read him at all, and I hated it. I wondered that if in shutting off my own thoughts that I had closed off his too.

    "I don't know what you're thinking about..."

    Kaleb gazed at me, his eyes very pink now. "You..." He placed a hand on my neck and pulled me closer. "Just you."

    This wasn't like our other kisses. I could see an image in front of me, a vision Kaleb was showing me, something painful for him to remember. A piano in a luxurious Georgian-style living space; high ceilings with a decorative cornice, a roaring fireplace, dark wood-panelled walls, red carpet; watercolour paintings hung above ornate, burning sconces; two armchairs upholstered in dark green and gold velvet; a heavy oak bookcase reaching the ceiling. There Kaleb sat, his hands moving on the keys, the sound of Beethoven filling the room. He wore a dark blue silk waistcoat over a white shirt, with high-waisted black trousers. It was surreal to see him in such attire, but he fitted in with the scenery wonderfully. As the kiss ended, the scene faded with it, bringing us both back into my room.

    Kaleb's face glowed as I held him, feeling the sorrow radiate from his body. He missed that time in this life; it contrasted entirely to how he was living now, in his antiquated room above the church. I could feel his heartache as strongly as if it was my own. 

    "One day, I'll live like that again," he said aloud. And then, in silence, "If only it could be with you..."

    I don't know whether he'd meant for me to hear the last part or not, but it made me hold him tighter. He felt so warm as he nuzzled his nose into my neck and kissed it. "I won't bite, I promise."

    Kaleb's hands felt for my back as he leaned into me, placing soft kisses on my skin and up to my ear. I shivered as his teeth gently grazed my ear lobe, nibbling invitingly, before kissing my lips. He pulled me down on top of him, between his legs, my arms around him. I kissed down his neck and collar bone, pulling his jumper down over his shoulder. I could feel him growing, lifting his hips a little. "Are you sensitive here?"

    "Nathaniel, please don't..." His body rebelled against his words, writhing underneath me as I kissed his skin. "It's dangerous..."

    I moved down, pulling the cord on the pyjama bottoms, lifted his jumper and kissed his stomach, shifting lower and lower. He was looking down at me, his head on the pillow.

    I started sucking, and he made no effort to stop me. As I pleasured him, I knew that no one had done this to him in a long time. I felt his hand in my hair as the other gripped the bedsheets. His sighs grew rougher, quiet little cries escaping with them. I lifted my head, moving back up the bed and kissed him briefly before pulling my t-shirt off. He sat up and let me take his jumper from him. I held his face in my hands and kissed him again, hearing his voice: "I don't want to hurt you..."

    I looked at his torso, perfectly formed, toned and warm. I kissed at his throat, pushing him back down, but I could still hear his objections.

    "I'm scared..." Kaleb pleaded as I pulled the trousers off him.

    Leaning over him again and touching him softly, I whispered, "I'll stop if you really want me to..."

    I could feel his hands on me, stroking me under my boxers. Within seconds, our bare skin was touching. There were no more doubts, only soft moans and heavy breathing with kisses in between.  

    As we moved together, I found myself lost in our embrace. Our pace quickened, the impact growing harder, but Kaleb seemed to prefer this, purring in my ear, "Don't stop..." and his thoughts pervading, "There... there..." Just hearing his voice this way made me more impassioned, as I pushed vigorously inside him. He was getting close, my body overwhelmed by his. I could feel the build-up, the intense pulsating, my heart beating hard in my chest before a warm surge of release. I leaned over Kaleb, kissing him, feeling his panting body beneath me.

    He lay in my arms after we regained our breath and energy, snuggled under my bed covers. We kissed gently, and I played with his hair. He was the first to break the silence.

    "Was that... what you expected?"

    I could sense his vulnerability, and I held him tighter. "I didn't really expect anything." I stroked his face. "But it was... amazing."

    He smiled a little. "I hate to leave, but I really need to go." His voice was soft, almost seductive.

    "You can't say it like that and expect me to let you..." I pulled him into a deep kiss, our tongues dancing together this time. I could feel his hunger rising in two places. "Don't leave."

    I reached down; he was hard already. "Don't do this to me, Nathaniel," he begged, kissing me hard. "This is very dangerous..."

    "Drink from me..." I whispered in his ear. "Please, I want it so bad..." I rubbed my hand on him, and he sighed a little.

    "I don't want to hurt you." He was breathing harder as I stroked him. "Nathaniel..." His voice was so quiet beneath the sighs that I could barely hear him. "Don't ask me... please don't ask again..."

    I trailed my hand over his body, to his neck, and brought my lips to his ear, kissing and nibbling. "Drink from me."

    He pulled away from me and gazed into my eyes. I could see how grey and purple they were now and how pale he was becoming. "Are you sure?"

    I nodded as Kaleb brought his hand around my hardness. His lips touched my neck, just for a moment. He caressed me softly, whispering, "I'll be gentle."  

    I closed my eyes; I could feel the hunger, his lust for me, and he needed no more convincing. Kaleb drove his teeth into my neck, slowly sucking on my skin and vivid hotness spread through my body. I could feel myself growing harder and harder, but he held back. "Please, more..." I moaned. An all-consuming pleasure took over me, racking my entire body, overcoming my mind.

    And then everything went dark.