Cross. Part One

Cross. Part One

No light reached this part of the room. The solitary sunbeam that had managed to poke its way through the curtains fell on a dirty heap of ripped up clothing in the far corner. But here, there was only darkness, and the ragged breathing of the rooms sole inhabitant. Tyler lay naked, his arms and legs strapped to the corners of the bed with leather belts, allowing him no room to move or stretch his sagging limbs. Premature wrinkles lined the strong, angular features of his face now gaunt visage. His eyes stared straight upwards, unseeing and no longer questing about the small, dank space. He would blink from time to time, the darkness around him becoming only slightly deeper for a short period. There were scratches all along the muscular lines of his shoulders, and running down the length of his torso, then again from his thighs down to his kneecaps. They had varying ages, the oldest mere hints of their former savagery, while some bled openly.
Tyler knew none of this. All of his world was darkness, would be darkness, until his angel returned to him. She always went away when he needed her the most. She would disappear during the early hours of the morning, only coming back once the hours of daylight had ended. She was his Sun, the center of his universe. The moment he felt her presence enter the room, Tyler’s blood would begin to boil. Just thinking about her set his heart at a frantic pace, causing his many wounds to begin to bleed anew. She would return. She always returned. Tyler only needed to keep faith, so his savior would return to him, just as she had promised. As the blood flowed down his sides, pooling underneath the small of his back, Tyler lost consciousness.

OOOO

Here. She was here. He could feel her. He could smell her, for God’s sake! That sweet scent of nectar, of life and joy and love and pleasure. His heart accelerated, blood pumping quickly to his member. Tyler’s back arched, his restraints stretching yet again as his whole being yearned for her. He needed her, needed that sweet warmth of forever enveloping him, smothering him until he could barely breathe. His entire body formed a rough crescent as he presented himself to her, his manhood proudly beckoning as he breathed in the scent of her.
“Is that you? No, I know it’s you. Only you could do this to me. My soul feels you. My body needs you. Please. Please! Let me look at you, O Holy Mother. I just need to see your face, so I know it’s you.” He had barely gasped out the words as she came into view, a soft glow announcing her approach. Beautiful. Insanely, insurmountably and paradoxically beautiful. She was everything and nothing, a perfect and supreme being whose allure was outweighed only by the sheer pleasure he knew she could bestow upon him. Tyler groaned to look at her. The perfect contours of her face, highlighted by the soft glow of the candle she held in one delicate hand, upraised before her as a holy symbol of beauty. She was his light, the only thing he could ever bear to see again in his miserable existence. She was God, and without her, there would be nothing.
“Oh,” he was speechless, saying nothing else for some time as he gazed upon her. “I knew you would return. I knew you would come back to me. Nothing in this world could keep us apart, I felt the pull of you the moment you left me, and only now is it beginning to fade.” She smiled, a gesture of such radiance, Tyler had to close his eyes. “Yes, my love. It’s me. I can see you’ve missed me while I was away,” a short pause, Tyler’s eyes were still closed. He heard her breathing, then a sigh as her hand lightly touched him. He felt a veritable explosion of pleasure, groaning and gyrating his hips as the liquid-soft silk of her skin brushed along the length of his upraised staff. He was already close, he couldn’t possibly last through what he knew would come next.
Yet, somehow he didn’t climax immediately. She had that power over him, knew him so completely as to touch him whichever way she pleased, and still give him ever more pleasure. She began to shift her hand around the tip of him, allowing her graceful fingers to slip down his length until she gripped him completely. Tyler’s back remained in a strong arch, the muscles of his back straining forever upwards so as to have more of her touching him. “Naughty boy, lie back, so I can look upon you.” Her voice was magic, a song so old and primordial, and still so young and full of life. He could never resist her, would never. As he eased back onto the bed beneath him, Tyler felt her presence get nearer. He had to look upon her. As he slowly opened his eyes, she came back into view. The soft glow of the candle, now lying by the side of the bed, illuminated her perfection.
She wasted no time, which struck him as unusual until he felt the warmth of her get closer, ever closer to where they would soon meet. The scent of her grew in the air, and he inhaled deeply just as she lowered herself onto him. The sound of his groans rang out as light truly returned to Tyler’s world. He was inside of her. This goddess, this beacon of all that was right and good in the world, had decided to share herself with him, a lowly being, surely not worthy. But there was no complaint forthcoming, and Tyler simply lay back and enjoyed the sweet oblivion that overtook him. His vision blurred slightly as the rampant ecstasy Tyler felt grew even stronger. As he looked up at her, he could almost see Angel’s wings behind her back. He had known all along that she was more than a human. Known all… along. Bliss enveloped him, and Tyler knew no more.


OOOO

“No. I’ve told you time and time again, Miller, this isn’t going to work. I don’t care what you claim about him, this idiot’s beyond saving.” Abraham DuPree spoke into his cell phone as he strolled along a gray alleyway. Clouds obscured the moon this night, a sure omen of ill intent. A voice on the other end of the line murmured at him, and Abraham scoffed, sending a small murder of crows into flight. “I could give a shit if he’s supposed to go pro, no one survives in a den for seven weeks. It just doesn’t happen.” As he spoke, Abraham scanned the surrounding warehouses. They were all identical. Each one a gray mass of concrete with rows of rectangular windows, most obscured by lewd graffiti or simply broken.
He stopped, shifting the phone in one hand while running the other over the day-old stubble growing on his chin. After a brief pause to listen, he veritably shouted, “Look! I’m the one doing your dirty work, Miller. If he’s alive and well, that’s one thing. But I’m not lugging some six foot ten lump of meat to the hospital if he’s just going to die in transit. Seven weeks, Miller. He’ll be lucky if he can get one more pump in before he just up and expires…. Well you relay that to them. In the meantime I’ll be taking care of the actual issue.” He snapped the phone shut and stalked purposefully towards a warehouse on the corner, shoving the thing into his pocket as he walked.
Abraham checked the number printed in large black block letters beside the metal door, reading 7131. Perfect. He slowly drew aside the sliding mechanism, slipping into the darkness within. His report detailed that the den lay on the fourth floor, so he made his way to the far corner of the open space, producing a small pen light as he did. He flipped the light on, and was surprised to see a small pack of rats scatter from the corner at the bracing LED light. Normally this place would be devoid of life of any kind. Something was up.
As he silently scaled the industrial stairway to the fourth floor, Abraham muttered under his breath.