Maleficar

   Alan Berger groggily cursed as he blindly searched and failed to find his alarm clock. He slowly got up and turned off his accursed alarm clock. It wasn't even eight am and he was up. When did the world start hating him? He lamented as he washed the sleep from his eyes. His patrol route had been long and boring. None of the usual suspects were up mischief and that was more startling than anything else. He suspected it was due to the arrival of the carnival from the shadowlands in a few days. Nor did he think that they were capable of major mischief. Since while Bleakhaven ,did infact have a potent connection to the shadowlands and that connection caused oddities like abnormally low temperatures and other strange phenomenona.



 



 Bleakhaven was still deep in the heart of the scorching desert. It was an oasis in the middle of nowhere. Nothing major happened there. It was why his order sent him there in the first place. But, to his great exasperation. Nothing ever slipped through from the otherside. No, dragons, powerful practitioners of vile magic, unscrupulous people meddling in the dark arts.... Nothing. Except for housewives somehow managing to create minor charms, teenagers without the force of will to summon even an imp and strangely enough a single clan of witches more concerned with their cafe than magic to ever cause trouble.



 



Except, for a single isolated incident of them being repeatedly provoked beyond the bounds of tolerance to such an extant that even the judge told the victim point blank it was her own damned fault. Alan Berger was a paladin, a holy knight who smote supernatural evils.... Where was his respect or his excitement?. Why did his superiors back east sent him to this extraordinarily dull place? His stomach growled and he smiled ruefully at his reflection as he combed his dark brown hair and brushed his teeth before he got dressed in his uniform. He had to report in to his order before doing his daily rounds as a sheriff deputy.



 



Alan had woke up early to get the mail he barely was on the return trip when the landlord. Looked at him expectantly and smiled. She was a small old woman. She enjoyed talking to him and she was pleasant company so he always enjoyed a chat. "We have a new tenant Alan" She said and then her face turned mischievous and conspiratorial as she leaned towards him as she looked up with a smile. "He's single" Alan blushed bright red and he stammered. " Ma'am its n-not l-like that." He began but she chuckled heartily "You aren't fooling anyone, Dear" He was rendered speechless with mortification with just how casually she stated it. She patted his shoulder fondly. He was a giant towards the little old woman. But nothing got passed the sharp eyed wizened landlady.



 



She handed him a letter. " He's in room 47, a floor above you have fun Alan". She winked at him while he gaped like a fish and then shooed him out of her way. Alan reluctantly got into the elevator and call the fourth floor. He couldn't believe he got duped into delivering mail. Landlady Reedfield was clever like a fox. He was just going to knock and hand him the letter. That was it. He wasn't going to gawk. Really he wasn't going to. He was just going to ignore that part of him that snickered and call him a liar. He was much too busy.Really.



 



The elevator opened and a bald man walked in a disheveled dressed state and stank of sweat and sex. He gave Alan a quick once over and gave him a sated smile. As his phone rang to a energetic tune. The black vest marked him as an employee to the only club in Bleakhaven. Darkfire. The man ignored him happily texting away on his phone. As the doors closed behind Alan.



 



He knocked twice and he knelt over to slip the letter underneath. The door opened and suddenly he was eye level with a half-flaccid and pierced cock staring at him and he just stared for a second on what he saw. A prince albert and a full out frenum piercing that extended all the way down.... that he had researched for the sake of research..... His brain caught up to him and started screaming that his face was uncomfortably close to a cock that was not his own and that if anyone walked by they would have the wrong idea about this unfortunate situation. The tenant's pale flesh was marred only by thick ugly black tattoos that covered his entire body.



 He righted himself suddenly and was about to stammer an apology for inadvertently breaching personal space but the heavily pierced and tattooed guy yawned and stretched his flexing muscles and Alan's pants got suddenly far too small. He could feel his face heavily flush. The guy was aesthetically pleasing and it made it overwhelming by how half-asleep he was and his voice recently woken from sleep was deep. The new tenant held out his hand,showing not an ounce of shame of his nakedness and shook his hand.



" I'm Rue" he practically purred. This conversation was doing weird things to Alan. He felt his face burning and his uniform pants were too tight.



 

"Hi" Alan could have slapped himself with how ridiculous he sounded. So he looked him directly in the face and didn't look dare look down. Rue looked at the envelope in his hand. "Thank you, Mister Berger. I forgot that last night on the Landlady's table." Rue hugged him suddenly. Alan felt the scultped flesh, the strength of the muscle.



 

They parted and Alan's voice was breathless. " You can call me Alan." Alan was surprised his voice was so level. Rue's hazel's eye were still half lidded as took the envelope. "See you around, Alan." Rue closed the door with a lazy smile. Alan got halfway to his car before his brain caught up to him. He had just been hugged by a naked guy. He grimaced at his awkwardness, He was sure Rue would go out of his way to avoid him. He got into his car and turned the key. He lamented on his lack of social skills as he backed out onto the road....



 

   



  Rue opened the letter and out fell a business card. His hands tightened as he read the letter. 



 



We know



 



"Fuck" he grimaced.