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Anyone who knew me for more than several minutes would be able to tell that this was not my strategy. I was a solitary predator, not a herd animal, and reinforcing social bonds was about as important to me as drinking arsenic.
In all respects I was being honest; Matt really could go fuck a dog. Matt was another sentry, and an idiot at that. The merchants could be robbing us blind and disembowelling the kids and he would still be trying to bang any unfortunate woman that was traveling with the caravan, even though he was married.
now. I was a moving target. Not to mention a desirable one. I had been told that a few times on the road and before we had left. Young, small, clean, white, and hot. I had been told I would taste good more times than I could count.
“Babe… he never came back,”
He was my responsibility, he was mine… he was mine.
Those were the assholes that killed the boy I loved. Those were the fucking dead men who took him from me. Who tortured him, raped him, ate him.
I drew my combat knife and to my surprise, I let out a low menacing laugh. I started to run.
“You raped my property,” I said, my words like acid, “you killed someone I loved.”
“Hey, kitty cat,” I whispered back, trying not to bring attention to the obvious slurring of my words. “Kitty cat.” I don’t know why, he just looked like a kitty cat today. Maybe it was because he was so light, or perhaps because his voice was high-pitched and squeaky, like a kitten’s mew. “Killi Cat more like it. Hey, Killi Cat.”
My heart told me one thing and my head told me another. My head told me I was a monster, who wasn’t capable of loving anything, who fed off of people’s pain and suffering, who everyone feared. But my heart told me I didn’t have a choice. It didn’t tell me what I should do, unlike my head. But every time I thought of Killian it filled me with such a weird, good feeling that I knew I had to do something to maintain it. Touching him had just amplified that.
This boy. I had pulled him from the depths of hell. I had killed for him, bled for him, was ready to kill myself for him. This peculiar boy with the golden blond hair I had actually touched.
“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you, I’ll be here, okay?” I said quietly. Killian gazed back up at me. “Forever?” he whispered. I wiped the tears away from his face with my thumb and nodded. “But I’m crazy.” “I’m crazy too.” I smiled. “Our crazies will cancel each other out.” “Or make us twice as crazy.”
“I knew you would come for me,” he whispered. “Even when it got dark, it was all I held onto.” “I will always find you,” I said quietly.
Reaver bit his cut lip and held me again, his body rocking back and forth as he spoke softly to me. “I’ll get us out of here,” he said in a whisper so small I could barely hear him. “I will, I promise.” He stroked my hair, the cold chains touching my back. “He made me watch you, I watched you the whole time. You were such a brave little Killi Cat.”
“I thought you left me,” I murmured. Reaver wiped my tears away with his thumbs. His brow creased as I said that him. “I was hoping you would know me well enough to think I just died, rather than left you.” He frowned. My eyes fell under his disappointed gaze. “You leaving is more likely than you dying.” He seemed to consider that for a moment. “I could see why you might think that.”
“Reaver… you’re… you’re really bad. I know you don’t see it, but you’re very… unstable.” Watching a pervert scientist constantly fondling my boyfriend as I sat chained, beaten, and bloody would do that. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “You don’t blink anymore…” I blinked for him and heard him muffle a sob again.
Killian had cut his fucking head off. “You said you wanted his brain.” Killian’s voice was hollow. I finally broke my gaze from the severed head, and kneeled in front of Killian. His head was bowed but his eyes were staring up at me. “Never doubt my commitment to you again,” he said.
“That’s going to be us in nineteen years,” Killian whispered as we watched Greyson sprint after his husband. “That’s us now.” I was surprised to feel my lips tighten; I was smiling.
The cat was on my bed; he looked at me and squinted his eyes. I squinted back and meowed at him.
“Well, aren’t we pre-Fallocausting it up tonight,” I said. “We should put on a Disney movie and play Monopoly in the living room.” Greyson popped a piece of meat into his mouth. “Yes, that would be enjoyable as we devour human flesh and drink beer so irradiated it glows in the dark.”
“They used to tether me in the backyard too,” I remarked. I remembered it well. “I even had a plastic bucket of water.” “We left you toys.”
“You think Reaver is bad now. Imagine him as a three-year-old with the vocabulary of a fifteen-year-old, who could turn anything sharp into a shank.” Killian was quiet for a moment. “I could see how that might be a bit… hard to deal with.” He shuddered. “We shouldn’t have kids.”
“Say… say something nice, please?” Killian’s voice wobbled. I won, you pathetic waste of life. “You probably started out nice,” I said instead.
He was dressed… he was dressed like a chimera, or at the very least a Skylander elite. My mind went to the photo; Leo the chimera scientist holding the newborn. Reaver had been raised a waster orphan, but as true as his bones and breath, he was a Skylander.
Reaver was a chimera… Reaver was one of them. Reaver was one of them. No, no no… you don’t know that. You don’t know that!
“First Dr. Perish and now him? You like them unstable don’t you?” I liked them chimera apparently.
Why did violence and torture have to turn him on so much? Oh and the biting… he seemed to love being nipped and bit when we were having rough sex.
“Hey, don’t diss the Ass ‘n Abs, you might get both every night but I’m stuck here with my Hand ‘n Imagination.” “Oh!” That reminded me of something. “I have porn for you.”
“Take your clothes off, you sexy little twink.” I gave out a playful growl as I looked up at him.
“Reaver… do you know how much it would have meant to me… if you would have stayed with me after? Instead of taking off for your ‘two weeks of torture’?” Silence. “I killed him for you.” “I think you killed him for you. Because you felt betrayed, you felt hurt, and you felt mad someone touched your property.”
“He could recognize faces too. Oh, did he ever hate Greyson. He liked me though. He always liked me.” Leo snorted. “What happened?” “He grew up,” Doc laughed, sucking in the cigarette smoke.
He had been wanting to try and locate some wine glasses. He had thrown all of his at his husband’s face the day he strangled their son.
“ASHER IS KING SILAS YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” I screamed. “King Silas is in Aras! He has been in fucking Aras for over two fucking months. You brought him here! You didn’t even recognize your own fucking king?”
“Reaver… do you love me?” I gave him the best smile I could muster. “More than anything.”
Asher had tried to get into my pants and control me, but he had never hurt me. He would hurt Killian, he hated him, that much I could see. If Asher was Silas he wasn’t going to let something like that go.
“No, you little smack addict, no more…” I started walking towards him. “It’s for you,” Killian said, his voice kind of slurred. He flicked the needle. God, that stuff looked like poison. Nice small pills looked so much healthier… less junkyish. “I’ve been with you for months, when you start laughing it means you’re about to go crazy.” “It does not,” I said flatly, but I sat down beside him.
“When we got there he started to get queasy and stumbly… I finished him off with the plastic bag that’d had Perish’s skull in it, and I buried him.” As his hand stroked my head, I took it into my own and kissed it, before placing it back on my head. “I can’t believe people think you’re less psychotic than me.”
Reaver was then born, a dark raven behind the marbling grey of the wasteland. With beautiful black hair and eyes, a sculpted face and eyebrows thin and slightly arched. A beautiful horror to behold even when he was younger. There was no question why this demigod had been taken and hidden; he was a force to be reckoned with, an evil soul that had the potential to destroy the world again.
I hadn’t asked what I had been born to be. Though from what I was now… probably the antichrist.
“Reno?” I said. My friend glanced up at me from under his eyebrows, taking note of my suddenly subdued tone. “Yeah?” I shifted around and inhaled a deep breath. “If something happens to me…” “Nah, Reav-” I put my hand up, a cigarette dangling between the pointer and middle finger. Reno shut his mouth and just stared at me. “Take care of him.”
am a dinosaur. Fucking hell, Perish… A machine, not a dinosaur. I am a machine.
He clicked his tongue again. “It’s too bad he smashed my recorder. I was having a brilliant time fucking to his moans. He moans like a virgin, and makes the cutest face as he cums.”
“Who else do you want,” I said through a puff of smoke, though I knew the answer. My pulse raced as I realized that I had been preparing for my own departure. “I want you.”
