The Eyes of Death

Entry Six- Innocent sin


The next sensation I felt was wet. Cool water ran through my fingers. I, he, took the damp wash cloth into the bedroom where Gregory was laying on the bed, still unconscious.

I saw though Adrian\'s eyes as he laid the folded cloth over the egg shaped bruise on the side of his head. Then pulled back his eyelids to check for the signs of a ruined mind.

The positionhis his eyes meant it was unlikely that he would wake again, and he would not be aware of Adrian and his plans. This made Adrian sigh to himself. I knew the boy would live through the night, injuries pending, Adrian found him to be attractive and worth holding on to even if he was just a boring body. Boring bodies can still be useful.

\"Uccello\" Adrian said out load to himself \"We will be the demons that prey upon sleepers in their weakest moments. We will see if souls can be abandoned and what loyalties they really keep.\"

\'No!\' I sat up in bed, sweat broke out across my flesh. My tiryes yes burned but I could not fight the dream, I closed my eyes.

The young Gregory lay in a twisted lump on the bed. He looked broken, vulnerable. I wanted to straighten him out and make him look perfect. He felt so real under my hands as I tuned him over.

Adrian stood over him and brushed the thin blond hairs out of his face. \"He’s pretty Uccello. Don’t we like him? Don’t we want to know him?\"

I felt uncomfortable in my, his, skin. My sleeping body rolled in my own bed, twisted in the sheets, tried to escape the dream. I did not want to be part of the violation of this mindless creature. Through Adrian\'s eyes he looked like a sleeping angel imprisoned in a human. He was all pink cheeks and young pale skin. When we touched him I half expected him to waken with the furry of God in his eyes. How dare we.

But those heavy blond lashes never so much as flinched; nothing was inside of that body except blood and bones. And still I felt like I was being looked upon and judged wrong. \'It is not me\' I pleaded in my mind.

It was not me who controlled my wrongful actions. Adrian took off his boots, not me. Adrian spread his legs, not me. I felt my hands move on their own, tracing the dark air inside my bedroom. Adrian drew one strong finger down the mans chest, tearing fabric and buttons as easily as a knife.

We were fed, there was no need to kill, and yet there was still an unfinished feeling, there was still need inside me. Adrian wanted this man. I grabbed a hand full of sheets and kneed them in my hands. \'Stop!\'

I flipped over on my belly, violently, and buried my face in the pillow. Heat washed over me and then the subsequent fullness that felt so good that it twisted my guts in a knot. The mattress underneath me became the warm, pink body that I saw in my dreams. I rubbed back and forth and rode the air like it could hold me.

As I bit the pillow, unable to control my mouth, I felt a hot rush of blood hit the back of my throat. I saw myself draining him until he was no longer pink. Pressure built inside me. Adrian screamed, I screamed and under all that there was a faint wail, so soft that I almost missed it.

Then suddenly he released my mind, abandoning me to deal with my own reality. I woke with the memory of blood in my mouth and ran for the toilet. My head swam as I purged myself of anything I imagined to be foul.

Empty, I slowly sat back against the wall. The cold tile floor under my bare skin made me aware of just how pathetic I must have looked, naked and sick with my own fluids still cooling on my belly and vomit on my chin. Dizzily, I looked up to see Adrian standing he dhe doorway. I braced myself for his curl comments but he only walked past me, ran the faucet and handed me a damp wash cloth.

So you see, after a night like that, I have a right to be irritated.