Blood Lust
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
18,967
Reviews:
194
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
18,967
Reviews:
194
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Twenty-six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Isaac rose early, hearing his father down in his shop. His dad made cabinets and countertops. Just not usually over a holiday. Knowing that Seth rested down there as well, he dressed and descended.
The familiar smell of a drill raising fresh, hot dust met his nose. He loved his father’s trade. Isaac built manuscripts with words. His dad actually produced things that stood the test of time in palpable form. Walking barefoot down the smooth wooden steps, he greeted, “Hey, Dad. Whatcha doing?”
“Something for your man.”
Isaac suffered a moment of doubt. He stopped a few paces from the work bench, the concrete floor very cold. “Tell me the truth. I can take it.”
His father set the drill aside and ran his assessing hand along the item. “I love you and I’m too simple to hang conditions on it.”
“I appreciate it.” In awe, he asked, “What’re you making?”
“A defense against the sun. Just place this,” he patted the thing, “over him anywhere he sleeps.”
Isaac experienced a moment of intense love. “You didn’t have to believe. Or accept.”
“You’re my child. The best of me.” He continued to work, hands as strong and capable as Isaac recalled from childhood.
He felt like a chick getting misty at the words and nostalgia. “What’s this made of?”
“Outside, aged oak. On the inside granite. I had some left from a countertop job. Thought the heaviness might offer some protection against attack.”
That dispelled the warm fuzzies. “What attack?”
His dad halted and looked at him. “Son, a man who goes through life without compromising always makes enemies. Your Seth’s had more time to gather them than most.”
“I guess you’re right.” He thought about the female who made Seth. The one who had tried to abduct him. “Thanks.”
“Not the only thing that occurred to me.” His sire reached for a tin of putty to fill the holes left by the drill. He had them in an array of colors, neatly organized on a shelf that reminded Isaac of a spice rack. “Your mama’s sister, Betty, she acted a little loopy off and on. Her daughter, Jen, voluntarily admitted herself to a mental institution almost ten years ago. Never been out since. That something to do with the ‘receiver’ thing Seth told me about?”
“When did you talk about that?”
“You should have on shoes down here this time of year.” His father walked over to a large space heater and switched it on. “I had a man-to-man with him before he laid down to rest.”
Isaac shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. Okay. How weird is it you gave him The Talk?”
Crossing to a cabinet, he opened it. “Always meant to climate control this space so I didn’t have to deal with temp issues on finishes.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he asked, “Just Poly or stain?”
“Poly. Dad, what did you talk to him about?”
“That’s between Seth and I.” He selected a container, closed the door. “But, I think we should go talk to your Cousin Jen.”
They called ahead and gained permission to visit Jen in the evening hours. The four of them drove the forty minutes to Calvary Retreat. Operated by a church, it had an unassuming exterior and an interior like a prison.
Seth bridled at the search of person. At one point, he snarled like a wolf at an orderly trying to search his pants.
After much signing in, ID checks and proverbial red tape, they followed a staff member dressed like a CO to a designated visitation area. Isaac caught his first sight of his cousin since they remained kids. Her pale blue eyes, huge, haunted and shadowed underneath, stared out from a fragile face. Isaac thought she looked a lot like him in female form.
Jen wore a baggy sweatshirt and loose track pants on her small-framed body. She seemed quite disassociated until Isaac and Seth sat down. Her attention sharpened and she gasped, “You brought one here!”
Isaac moved to embrace her. “I know,” he murmured. “I know what you’ve endured. As a Receiver.”
She hugged him fiercely and began to sob silently. “Then, get me outta here.”
Because she had admitted herself voluntarily, they managed to check her out on their recognizance. Her therapist even signed off, saying she believed it best.
The drive back to Isaac’s parents’ house passed slowly. Jen sat on Isaac’s lap in his parents’ economy car. She watched Seth like a canary might a hungry cat.
After his shifting positions caused her to cry out and cling to Isaac, Seth held out his hand to her. “I mean you no harm, Receiver.”
She sagged limply and began to weep. Between sobs, she confessed, “I … thought I would … die in there …alone …and crazy.”
Isaac rose early, hearing his father down in his shop. His dad made cabinets and countertops. Just not usually over a holiday. Knowing that Seth rested down there as well, he dressed and descended.
The familiar smell of a drill raising fresh, hot dust met his nose. He loved his father’s trade. Isaac built manuscripts with words. His dad actually produced things that stood the test of time in palpable form. Walking barefoot down the smooth wooden steps, he greeted, “Hey, Dad. Whatcha doing?”
“Something for your man.”
Isaac suffered a moment of doubt. He stopped a few paces from the work bench, the concrete floor very cold. “Tell me the truth. I can take it.”
His father set the drill aside and ran his assessing hand along the item. “I love you and I’m too simple to hang conditions on it.”
“I appreciate it.” In awe, he asked, “What’re you making?”
“A defense against the sun. Just place this,” he patted the thing, “over him anywhere he sleeps.”
Isaac experienced a moment of intense love. “You didn’t have to believe. Or accept.”
“You’re my child. The best of me.” He continued to work, hands as strong and capable as Isaac recalled from childhood.
He felt like a chick getting misty at the words and nostalgia. “What’s this made of?”
“Outside, aged oak. On the inside granite. I had some left from a countertop job. Thought the heaviness might offer some protection against attack.”
That dispelled the warm fuzzies. “What attack?”
His dad halted and looked at him. “Son, a man who goes through life without compromising always makes enemies. Your Seth’s had more time to gather them than most.”
“I guess you’re right.” He thought about the female who made Seth. The one who had tried to abduct him. “Thanks.”
“Not the only thing that occurred to me.” His sire reached for a tin of putty to fill the holes left by the drill. He had them in an array of colors, neatly organized on a shelf that reminded Isaac of a spice rack. “Your mama’s sister, Betty, she acted a little loopy off and on. Her daughter, Jen, voluntarily admitted herself to a mental institution almost ten years ago. Never been out since. That something to do with the ‘receiver’ thing Seth told me about?”
“When did you talk about that?”
“You should have on shoes down here this time of year.” His father walked over to a large space heater and switched it on. “I had a man-to-man with him before he laid down to rest.”
Isaac shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. Okay. How weird is it you gave him The Talk?”
Crossing to a cabinet, he opened it. “Always meant to climate control this space so I didn’t have to deal with temp issues on finishes.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he asked, “Just Poly or stain?”
“Poly. Dad, what did you talk to him about?”
“That’s between Seth and I.” He selected a container, closed the door. “But, I think we should go talk to your Cousin Jen.”
They called ahead and gained permission to visit Jen in the evening hours. The four of them drove the forty minutes to Calvary Retreat. Operated by a church, it had an unassuming exterior and an interior like a prison.
Seth bridled at the search of person. At one point, he snarled like a wolf at an orderly trying to search his pants.
After much signing in, ID checks and proverbial red tape, they followed a staff member dressed like a CO to a designated visitation area. Isaac caught his first sight of his cousin since they remained kids. Her pale blue eyes, huge, haunted and shadowed underneath, stared out from a fragile face. Isaac thought she looked a lot like him in female form.
Jen wore a baggy sweatshirt and loose track pants on her small-framed body. She seemed quite disassociated until Isaac and Seth sat down. Her attention sharpened and she gasped, “You brought one here!”
Isaac moved to embrace her. “I know,” he murmured. “I know what you’ve endured. As a Receiver.”
She hugged him fiercely and began to sob silently. “Then, get me outta here.”
Because she had admitted herself voluntarily, they managed to check her out on their recognizance. Her therapist even signed off, saying she believed it best.
The drive back to Isaac’s parents’ house passed slowly. Jen sat on Isaac’s lap in his parents’ economy car. She watched Seth like a canary might a hungry cat.
After his shifting positions caused her to cry out and cling to Isaac, Seth held out his hand to her. “I mean you no harm, Receiver.”
She sagged limply and began to weep. Between sobs, she confessed, “I … thought I would … die in there …alone …and crazy.”