Souls of Naradan

Chapter 1
The Dragon’s Wrath

“H-hurry up Cyan. Rex is gonna get pretty mad if he finds out we’re up here…” a cloaked child whimpered into its elder brother’s ear. The rain fall was becoming thicker by the second and the drops were hammering loudly against the phone booth’s glass.

“I’m almost done Droga. Just one more call and we’re out of here.”

“Hurry, hurry.” Droga whined as the other pressed the glowing digits on a blue screen.

Although Droga’s features were so well hidden with the help of a black leather cloak, one could easily tell the figure was only a young child by short height and youthful voice. Droga only stood four feet and nine inches tall, while the other child, two years older, stood four inches higher. It was rather hard to decipher if the being was male or female without even fingers being exposed to the light.

The siblings had managed to sneak out to the surface from their underground hideout where many of the freaks found refuge. The hot tempered man known as Rex was the founder of their haven, and was the one who took the children in from the streets. It was dangerous to roam alone, and it was suicidal to stay at the surface without a human to call a master. Droga and Cyan once had someone that had a similar title to that not too long ago…

The screen buzzed suddenly and a picture of a digitized green telephone shook in the middle of the screen.

“It’s ringing!” Cyan yelped out excitedly. “Maybe this is the right number.”

“This is crazy Cyan… we’ll never find him! Lets just go back now..”

The tanned skinned youth shook his head side to side, making his brown-blond locks of silky hair slap against his face. “Don’t say that.” He whispered. “We’ll find him… we have to!” Suddenly the ringing stopped and the screen flashed white for a second. The light dimmed into an unfocused image of a dark skinned woman. Her hair was a mess, and the sound of a loud television set playing morning cartoons was blaring in the background.

“Who is it…” she asked disinterestedly. She must have recently woken up.

“Hey, I was wondering if a man by the name of Engel Nephele is available.” Cyan asked eagerly and leaned closer into the screen as he tried to make out the details of the background. But he couldn’t see anything that held any significant lead or clue that this was the right place. It was too dark, and the milky-blue light from the television set was the only thing that he could make out aside from the blurry face.

“No. You got the wrong number.” She sighed when the room suddenly flashed. A few seconds later lightning flashed near Cyan and Droga. Thunder accompanied right after.

“Oh, I see… Sorry to have—” Cyan tried to apologize but the woman hung up immediately. The child groaned and hung his head low in defeat. He had made four unanswered calls and the last one was so quick to hang up.

“Cyan, we’ve got to go!” he heard his young sibling complain and pulled at his sweater.

“I was so sure that was the number…” the older of the two looked down at the piece of cardboard in his hand. The phone number he had memorized was scribbled down on it with a sharpie marker, but the last two numbers were the only ones he could not recall.

“If we don’t go now the watchers will catch us,” Droga whispered franticly. It wasn’t safe at the surface, it really wasn’t. The elder brother tensed with the reminder Droga gave him.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Cyan finally muttered out and ripped the opaque tape away from the booth’s camera lens. Not many people liked showing their faces when talking through the visual phones. Many used tapes, unfocused their camera or blocked it. But the reason Cyan used such a method was to make his odd appearance less noticeable while talking to possible humans that picked up the phones. Humans had little to no interest in talking with the tainted, but if they were desperate enough they would report him to the watchers if they knew his location.

Cyan was petite in frame, slender, and curvaceous which made him look more like a growing preteen girl than a fourteen year old boy; he was slowly maturing. Cyan had unblemished desert-tanned skin and hair that matched the color of his flesh. It was long and silky, with bangs so long that it covered most of his face, as well as the tainted eyes that he hid from the world. Tiny fangs had started peeking from his mouth more often, and his ears were stretching out more like some sort of elf or imp. He hid these new traits with a beanie-hat stitched with tan and black fabric, and a white scarf.

Quickly Cyan moved the scarf up and slid opened the glass door of the booth. He and his little sibling both fled down the street and into a trash filled alleyway, where gamblers were picking up the bits and pieces of their water-drenched game. Cyan felt the rain fall heavily against his white sweater making the cold feel unbearable as he ran. The two children made their way around the creepy creatures that preyed money through the foolish game of chance. They had to move quickly before the men decided they were worth something; if not for money then perhaps a free lay.

Rex had not marked them yet, or made them official members of the Dragon Clan—thus tainted and pure alike were potential enemies to the children. Droga and Cyan risked their lives by running on the surface, and taking shortcuts through dangerous paths. Their lithe bodies leaped over garbage, until they found a rusty old fence with a jagged opening. Cyan moved the wiring aside, allowing Droga to move first and then he followed behind. This was a path to one of the many entrances to the underground; a demolished yard of an old abandon warehouse. It was the same warehouse Droga and Cyan slept and hid within for an entire week before Rex and his gang showed up, seemingly from the tangled weeds that choked the yard’s concrete. The children ran across the weeds and rubble and slipped through the warehouse backdoor where they found themselves surrounded by darkness. The dim lights of the outer world hardly peered through filth caked windows, and the heavy downpour caused for leaks to form and echo through the creaking complex.

“He is going to beat us when we get there.” Cyan heard Droga whimper out.

“Calm down Droga. If anyone is getting beat it will be me. He can’t touch you.”

“It isn’t fair Cyan! We both ran out without an escort, so we are both going to get punished for this!”

“Droga stop making assumptions so quickly. And as I said before, you’re safe.” Cyan mused out as he found a rusted crowbar and nudged it against a sewer lid to pry it open.

“But it’s not fair…” Droga sighed and eyed Cyan worriedly. To Cyan nothing else seemed to matter but his little sibling’s safety. The only reason Droga was an untouchable was because of the deal Cyan made with Rex. It was a verbal agreement but an agreement nonetheless, that Droga shall remain safe and unharmed in exchange for the attentive services Cyan learned to give others as a man whore. Cyan constantly gave up his freedoms and sacrificed anything he could in order to keep Droga safe—and this really bothered the younger child.

“There, got it opened. After you, Droga,” Cyan whispered once the lid was pushed away. The cloaked child climbed down the ladder, and right afterward Cyan followed and tried his best to place the sewer lid back on the gap.

The tunnels were oily, very dark and difficult to see without a light source. However, Cyan’s eyes suddenly came to life. Their dark, mysterious purple pigment with neon pink specks faded away and was replaced with a greenish glow that spilled forth from the iris. The blackness that once surrounded him became dark blue, with darker shades of indigo that gave things depth. It was still pretty hard to see, but it was better than seeing nothing. He turned to face Droga once his sneakers touched the mucky floor and spotted a vibrant pink glow amongst the darkness. When his eyes changed like this, Cyan saw living creatures in the dark enwrapped by a colored glow. Seeing Droga as a figure of light reminded Cyan of their mother, since they both possessed the same colored light that no one else seemed to have. Their mother had once told him the things he saw were called souls, or a living life-force, and it was a gift not many were born with.

“Follow me.” Cyan smiled despite the fact that Droga couldn’t see him. He took hold of the small trembling hand. They both moved down the tunnels passing by scurrying white balls of light that Cyan knew as mice, or rats. It took a bit of time until they found the entrance to the underground society; a deep crack against a stone wall and hidden behind a set of rusty pipelines. The crack was narrow with yellow light gleaming vividly from within. As they approached closer Cyan spotted a dim aura flickering like a dying light bulb.

“Ah, new kid, Rex was looking for you and he don’t seem too happy.” A deep voice whispered to the child from behind a pipeline. Cyan stared over at the voice’s direction and saw where the man stood, but Droga shivered and clung closer to Cyan in fright. Droga didn’t know where the voice came from until the figure moved from hiding and approached them. It was a very tall man, very skeletal in structure though most of his body was hidden with layers of ragged clothing. Strange horn-like growths sprouted from atop his head like hair and curved back, giving his face a sleek appearance. His cheeks were hollowed and his hawk-like eyes were sticky with bloody film. The flesh appeared green and faded from where the yellow lights hit him and he didn’t smell too nice either. One could easily confuse him with a walking corpse.

“Did he find out that I left?” Cyan asked as he moved his hand into his jean’s pocket and searched for something.

“No, he is currently looking for you in the cafeteria.” The sickly giant replied and stopped his approach. Cyan pulled out a small bag with two glowing mushrooms, azure in color and looked it over.

“Thanks for not ratting on me, Beast.” Cyan whispered and dropped the bag onto the man’s abnormally large hand.

“No.” the man shook his head. “Thank you Cyan, for all your wonderful goodies.” Beast smiled, although almost immediately his claw-like fingers gripped onto the tiny mushrooms in the bag and clenched it into his hand. Tiny little spores puffed like glowing dust as Beast inhaled the smoky light into his lungs, and used his long black tongue to lick up the remains on his digits.

The children watched how the sickly man greedily devoured the fungus before they quickly made their way past him and into the long narrowed path within the crack on the wall. They had to step sideways in order to fit inside.

“He really likes our plants, but he doesn’t seem to be doing so good,” Droga whispered as he followed closely behind.

“Fungi,” Cyan corrected, “And no one is doing well down here, but at least our crops make them hurt less.”

“He looks real creepy… and a lot of the demons are getting that weird green skin... You think Rex is right? That everyone is so sick because of the Lion? Do you think you’ll get sick too? I don’t want you getting sick—” Droga hushed when Cyan’s bright eyes gave a serious look.

“You talk too much when you’re nervous.” Cyan looked angry, but then let out a light sigh. “Don’t worry about those things. Let’s just keep quiet and get to our rooms before Rex notices anything, ok?”

Droga nodded and hushed up. Being talkative would likely blow their cover. Besides, they were now leaving the small pathway to the underground society, and Droga had to play ghost. Cyan made sure the cloak on his sibling was still intact; for some reason the coat always covered Droga completely and shadowed the face in the right places. The child was not allowed to show flesh or speak in front of others because of the sickness Droga had since birth. The flesh burned if too much light touched it, and Droga’s voice was considered witchcraft to many. Cyan and their previous master insisted to keep Droga’s physical deformities hidden, and it became almost second nature for the child to become mute.

They both slipped through the crack and were greeted by the ailing sound of vomiting and the nauseating smell of old sweat and rotten flesh. Cyan and Droga tried their best to ignore the smells and the men who scavenged in glossy black trash bags, but Cyan couldn’t help but look over when one of the men stumbled into a corner and panted miserably. He noticed the man had the same green skin as Beast, making him frown with worry. No one was certain how exactly the life draining sickness was caught, but Cyan had a feeling the sickness was poison and transferred through the water and food they ate. It was why so many now starved until they were certain they found something edible and it was why Beast loved the goodies Cyan and Droga made in secret.

Despite the unwelcoming smells, it was a better place to be than above ground since they didn’t have to worry about a Watcher spotting them out. They swiftly walked past small stands and stacks of cardboard boxes. The wide tunnels were lit with yellow lanterns and assorted bulbs of colored light, along with the illumination coming from within tented homes. They tried hard to stay undetected until they stumbled upon a particularly large black tent, with a neon green dragon stitched on the entrance flap. Cyan held his breath as he pulled the flap aside and peeked in. No aura was inside the unlit tent and the boy sighed out with much relief.

“He’s not in. Remove your shoes.” Cyan whispered to Droga as he immediately started to remove his sneakers that were covered in muck. Once removed the two stepped inside bare foot onto what felt like straw-weaved flooring. Cyan placed his shoes down beside a plastic basin and had Droga do the same. Right away Cyan stripped from his soaked sweater and pants and dumped the fabrics into the basin. He shivered and rubbed his hands against his wet, tanned arms. “We need to find some dry clothes—”

Unexpectedly the lights came on blinding Cyan’s eyes for a moment. He squinted as the blue-green glow of his eyes reverted back into a rich lavender color. Who turned on the green lamp by the coffee table? He turned to look over when his heart froze with cold fear. Cyan spotted a leather vested man standing perfectly still in the middle of the room. His long spiky jet black hair made him look like a lion; however, his piercing reptilian eyes gave him an eerie yet alluring look. The lifeless orbs of yellow were devoid of any emotion. His chest was bare beneath the unzipped leather which showed off the well toned muscle on the man’s peach fleshed abdomen.

“Where the fuck were you?” Rex’s voice growled forth.

The shock of being spotted prevented Cyan from saying anything; however, Rex did not register the surprised look on Cyan. Instead he saw bright violet eyes staring down at him in a challenging manner. Silence stilled the room for a few seconds, although it felt like long dreadful minutes to the children until Rex repeated the question with an even harsher tone.

“Where the fuck were you? If I have to repeat myself again—”

“Nowhere. We were here, looking for food before we decided to take a bath.” Cyan attempted to lie to the dark-haired man.

Rex approached angrily, the heavy stomping of his army boots made it obvious. With each step the chime of chains attached to Rex’s leather vest became louder, making Cyan’s heart beat faster, his body colder, and his teeth clench tighter. Still, the frightened youth stared on with defying eyes and stood in a rather confident posture even when he felt his blood thin out. Rex stopped only a foot away from Cyan and looked down at him.

It was all so sudden the impact of a vicious slap sent Cyan’s world spinning and a loud ringing to echo in his delicate ears. He couldn’t keep his balance and fell harshly onto the floor. The poor boy couldn’t register pain out of fear until a hot hand yanked onto his blonde hair and forced him to stand back up.

“Ah!” he cried out in pain.

“You expect me to believe that bullshit? Your clothes are wet, your shoes are fresh with filth, and you stink of rain.” Rex hissed and clung onto the soft hair even tighter in his grasp. “I don’t like being lied to,” the man whispered into Cyan’s ear darkly.

Cyan hissed and clawed against the hand that grabbed so harshly at his hair. It burned his skull as his hair felt as though it would rip away from his tender head.

“So tell me, where were you?”

“W-we were looking for food—we were looking for food.” Cyan stammered out with a sob. The sting of hair being pulled away made his eyes swell with glistening tears.

“That doesn’t answer my damn question. And what is this ‘we’ business? Who the hell is ‘we’? Is it someone from the gang? A spy?” Rex pulled the child close; causing Cyan’s bare back to press against cold chains and hot leather. Suddenly Rex’s hot hands took to one of the chains and wrapped it around the child’s slender neck.

“Droga and I!” Cyan shrieked, moving his hands away from clawing the hand that held to his hair and moved beneath to the chains that threatened to choke him. The boy fought with the chain that tightened around his neck.

“Your imaginary frriieeeend~?” Rex cooed out. “Was it your imaginary friend that told you to go outside? You shouldn’t listen to the damn voices in your head.”

“Not imaginary! He’s my twin!”

“Then where is he?”

Tears ran down Cyan’s cheeks as he looked around the room but saw only a stack of dark towels where Droga once stood. He couldn’t find his sibling anywhere.

“You scared him away—he was with me. We were changing…”

“Fuck you, you little liar. No one came in here but you. If someone else entered I would have seen and would likely have my chains around their neck instead.”

“No! You leave Droga out of this! You promised, you promised you won’t hurt him! You can’t touch him!”

“Of course I can’t, he’s not real.”

“Don’t say that!” Cyan wailed out. The pain on his crown and the pressure the chains had against his fingers and neck were nothing compared to the cruel words Rex told him. Although Cyan denied it he knew too well that Droga truly couldn’t be seen or touched by physical matter any longer. Throughout his little brother’s life he was kept hidden away from the world like a real ghost, and the only ones that saw him were a selected few including Cyan himself. But now, even after his brother’s death two years ago, Cyan couldn’t let go of his existence, because he saw him, and he heard him, and he could still touch him even if others could not. Droga was real despite what anyone else said.

As the boy cried out, he was harshly tossed down against the layers of thick red and blue quilts and pillows that were bundled on the floor next to the coffee table. This was Rex’s bed, and Cyan’s current workspace. The chains around his neck loosened and the grip on his hair was released but the physical pain still remained. As he lay on the quilted floor Cyan sobbed quietly, but tried his best to relax when he felt Rex’s greedy hands rake across his back and yank off his briefs. He knew what was coming, and he knew Rex was angry because of his sexual delay. It was the promised activity Cyan had made for living under the Dragon’s protection. It was not like he wanted to live with Rex, but there wasn’t much choice when they were so few and limited to choose from.

He could feel Rex’s unusually hot breath hiss against the groove of his cold back when a burning tongue darted out to lap against the wet flesh. The boy shivered and whined out uncomfortably. He was not used to feeling the peculiarly strange heat that came from Rex, even if they went at it so many times already. After lapping, he felt sharp teeth nip on various places of his youthful skin while hot fingers massaged and assaulted the plump cheeks and the crack of Cyan’s rear. With out proper preparation those long thick fingers slid inside the perked hole which made the child yelp and groan against the pillow with discomfort.

“That’s what you get for making me wait and search for you.” The dark voice hissed out, heavy with lust.

The way Cyan’s soft voice breathed out through naturally dark lips, the way he cried and squirmed against him got Rex’s blood stirring pleasantly. The smooth feel of his young skin against his fingers made him ecstatic. His smell and even his taste was something Rex found to be almost as addictive as his beloved cigarettes. The sexual tension Cyan gave him made him crazy, and now he refused to use anyone else other than the mysterious child to calm his needs.

Rex was addicted to sex, and sex was practically the basis of his everyday life. Sex was used as punishment, a reward, a stress reliever, and even a form of inspiration. Rex had many sexual partners, men, women, humans and demons alike but there was something about the boy that caught his attention. Cyan’s body shape and his face did not consist of a child’s likeness, but it lacked the feel of a true adult. To Rex, Cyan was not a child even if he was far from being an adult. He was like some other creature that did not fit in any category. Cyan’s beauty didn’t match human or demon and this too went for the boy’s way of being. Even his gender did not seem to be strictly male with how curvaceous and lithe the body was forming. Cyan was a rarity, and from the three weeks he had known the boy, Rex felt as though he had fallen in love with the damn kid.

Rex knew his fingers did not feel all that pleasing when he probed them within the dry flesh, yet Cyan’s delicate back arched, and the round bottom rolled against him. Even in sex Cyan defied him. But the man allowed this sort of spunk to burn out of the child. It was what made him so different from the rest, though, he had to remind the child who was boss, and so he yanked the chain back. Cyan gasped as his head jerked back, and his small hands didn’t even try to reach up to pull away the metal around his neck. Instead they clung onto the sheets and moaned out.

“Punish me,” he commanded softly, almost pleadingly, as he rose on all fours and spread his legs apart. Cyan’s response to all this was almost as natural as breathing. The words that slipped from him were rehearsed to the multiple men that took him. The feel of a pulsing hot cock being rammed inside his ass was like some sort of daily ritual he had gotten used to. Sometimes there was pleasure from the rough sex, but mostly it as just a mental exercise to endure the pain. The sound of a zipper was distant, Rex’s hot voice was incoherent, but the harsh burning pain that was pushed into him was vivid. Desperately he tried to relax as the hot rod pushed passed his rejecting hole and he breathed deeply to relax and take in the entire length.

Loud cries left the child as Rex pushed his entire length in and out of the hole forcefully. There was nothing pleasing about the hands that now caressed his hips, or the hot mouth that bit and lapped onto his bruising shoulder. The smell of nicotine reeked from Rex’s breath and the heavy scent of cologne hurt Cyan’s nose. The world spun around once more as Cyan was repositioned and was forced to look up at his client.

Rex’s face was attractive, masculine, and rugged with sandy stubbles spreading messily on his face. His hair was a mess as usual, his eyes demonic and bright, and his mouth wide as he showed his rows of sharp yellow teeth; lethal things. If he wanted, he could kill me with those things… Cyan thought as he stared at the panting mouth. It got hotter by the second as the thrusting continued. Sweat drenched Cyan’s trembling body while many whimpering sounds mewled out of him. His hands darted up and clenched onto Rex’s shoulders. He knew Rex was going to cum soon. The black claws from the dark haired man’s fingertips extended and threaten to pierce into Cyan’s sides. Rough grey scales formed on various places on the peachy skin, and the rhythm was becoming harsher against his ass.

Cyan clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tightly as the hot stream of semen flooded his sore ass. He yelped out from the extremely hot sensation the fluids had. Uncomfortable, painful, he hated it all, but obviously this didn’t seem to be the case for Rex.

“You love it as much as I do, so why run from it…” the panting whisper breathed against his face. “Unfortunately I can’t stay long for another round…”

Thank the gods for that… Cyan thought as he felt the hot rod get pulled out of him with a sickening pop, which allowed the thick creamy substance to ooze out of him freely. He felt Rex move and clean himself up and zip back his pants. The loose chain was removed from Cyan and was placed on its appropriate place around Rex’s arm. He lazily looked over at Rex. It wasn’t a coincidence the gang was called the ‘Dragon Clan’… Everything about its leader was dragon-like. The hot temper, the sharp teeth, the small scales upon his arms and shoulders, the unexplainable heat that formed in his body, and those eyes that still scared the shit out of anyone that looked into them. He held a great deal of power over things too; it was terrifying.

But Cyan did not plan to stay by this psycho’s side for long. He had other plans, even if Rex was currently the closest thing to overpowering the Golden Lion. Cyan didn’t want to be part of this fiasco.

“If tonight’s plan goes right we’ll be having plenty of food and water by the end of the week. Then we won’t be searching through trash for something to eat. And hopefully you’ll stop sneaking off… Cyan.”

The blonde’s eyes widened at the concerned way Rex said this and suddenly felt sick in his stomach as he felt the man sit next to him. His heartbeat was rapid when clawed hands ran across his damp wet hair and gingerly caressed it back. But his dark violet eyes shifted to the side, avoiding those reptilian ones. He didn’t like the friendly or soft touches he was receiving from him.

“I’m thinking of making you a member of my clan, and you’ll know just how sweet that’ll be when you walk the surface. With the Dragon’s Mark no one can fuck with you.”

“No one but you, and the Watchers you mean.” Cyan retorted back, still avoiding the other’s eyes.

“Well, I am handling the Watchers, and besides I’m your Master.”

“No. You are not. You are my client, and I provide you services in exchange for things… that was the deal we made.” Cyan huffed out.

“You are lucky I even considered making a deal with you. I could have just killed you on the spot you know. Or forced you down here and have you doing laborious work.”

Cyan forced an angry smile and looked over at Rex. “So this is not considered laborious?” but his angry words were interrupted by someone who softly tapped at the tent’s entrance.

“Excuse me, boss. They’re all ready and waiting for you.” When Cyan looked over at the entrance he noticed the straggly posture of a familiar giant looking inside. It was Beast and he timidly averted his eyes from Cyan and Rex and allowed the flap to fall.

Rex stood up and gave out a chuckle. “You’re funny, kid. See you when I get back.”

Cyan watched as Rex walked out and zipped the tent door behind him. He then listened to Rex speak to Beast.

“Make sure he doesn’t leave the tent, and if he really needs to get out for any reason, escort him, understood?”

“Yes Boss.”

“If you fail you know I’ll get mad, right?”

“Yes Boss.”

“And what happens when workers don’t do their job right?”

“They get fired.”

“Literally. Good, seems like your memory is working.”

Beast’s screams of agony abruptly rung loudly outside. “Mercy!” the giant roared out as searing heat danced outside the tent.

The smell of burning flesh quickly made its way into the tent and Cyan stared over at the closed tent door with wide eyes. He trembled against the sheets feeling infinitely guilty over Beast’s punishment. His stomach clamped, feeling sicker as the smell became stronger.

“Tell me what you failed at first.”

“I let him roam without an escort—Boss, Mercy! I beg you! I won’t fail again!”

“I’ll see to it that you don’t.”

Beast’s screams ceased after a rather loud hissing noise. The sound of something sizzling and crackling lingered in the eerie silence that remained afterward. Cyan pressed his face against the pillow and silently cried as Rex commanded ‘Zeeve’ to watch over the tent and told someone else to ‘clean up the mess’ Cyan didn’t dare move even when the chime of those wicked silver chains became inaudible.