The Protector of children

Chapter eight: Down the dark rabbit hole

A/N: Would anyone care if I just stop doing chapter titles?

When he felt movement, which was when he woke up. Big arms quickly gripped tight around the middle of the smaller man and forced him to laid up against the muscular torso. It was way too early for another battle of the wills, so neither man said anything and continue on just laying in the grey and blue bed. Just laying there, thinking about the events that had just happen before waking up this morning.

“I have to call Alan, to have him come over with Slone and then go over to my place for some clothes.” Bain sounded very worn out, almost like he hadn’t slept the entire night.

“I’ll take you over to your place, then to Alan’s for your land whale and then we’ll head over to the station.” Cheza muttered against the paled neck, blowing hot air on slightly cold skin causing the entire area to create tiny goose bumps.

The smaller man nothing for a long minute, it was so long that the dark-haired man thought that he had fallen asleep again. Two hands were lightly laid upon the arms that were wrapped around the much smaller waist.

“I don’t really want to do this, Chaze. I had spent over five years, ever since I had stopped going to a shrink, trying to forget. Trying to move one past that really awful time of my life. I’m not even sure that you can catch this guy.” He gave a humorless dry laugh. “I mean that he has been doing this for so fucking long and never once did someone came close to catching him.”

Cheza could sense the despair in the other’s voice, in his hands as they lay on top of his and in the way his body tensed up. This man had lived with this knowledge and feeling that nothing will never happen and his tormentor will continue on till end of time.

No-one needs to live like that.

No-one has to go through that for the rest of their life.

He removed his arms from around the thin waist to only turned the blonde onto his back and the both of them could see each other face to face.

“This is what I have learned ever since I nabbed my first prep. Everyone gets caught. It’s just a matter of when.” He moved forward to chastely kiss along the pale jaw line, rough freshly grown over night stubble tickling against his lips. A clear reminder that this was not a woman but a man in his bed and in his arms.

Hands, so much smaller then his own, reached up to grabbed the dark black hair on the back of the head and moved it where both mouths could meet once for a chaste kiss and then more for a heated and tongue fighting kiss.

Big brutish hands stroked the scarred and tattooed skin under the borrowed shirt. Bain groaned loudly in Travers’ mouth as blunt nails raked across a nipple. He arched off the bed and up against the thick solid body above him as fingers abused his peach-colored nubs. The hungry mouths broke only to breathe and the dark-haired detective latched his wet bruised mouth like a leech on the offered pale soft neck.

Bain did his part by rubbing their pelvises roughly together, causing their sleep-pants to become tighter as their erections grew bigger and bigger.

Nothing could ruined this birth of a new relationship of lust and love. Mostly lust then love.

Nothing but except the shrilling ring of someone’s phone.

“Forget it. It’s just a telemarketer working early.” Travers ordered as he moved down to marked the smeller man’s chest like he had so wonderfully done to his neck.

The blonde nodded, not really knowing what was said or why he was nodding exactly. It has been a dry spell for him and frankly right now, right this second he could care less if the moon had just explode into a million of tiny little pieces.

The answering machine was finally clinked on and Marks’ deep voice echoed through out the apartment.

“Travy, I know you are there. With Bain. Alan had a part with that. You may want to get up and come down here at the quarry, just on the low brink of town. And bring Bain too. He’s going need to see this as well.”

The air of foreboding killed the air of lust in the room as both men mulled over what the deep coffee-skin man had just said.

“I’ll get dress and umm, take you by your place then by Alan’s if you really need Slone with ya.” Travers, his passion dead like the erection in his cotton pants, just slide off the smaller blonde and went on the process of getting dress while the other sullen man climbed off the bed and went into the other room for his own clothes and other things.

They weren’t going to like what they will see at the old rock quarry.

Call it a bad feeling.

****

Those idiots down at the police station may had found my little burial place for really bad children. It was an old place anyway and I hadn’t buried a bad child there for a long time now.

But they won’t ever find me or my children.

They just want to take my children away and put them back in places that would harm and hurt my little angels.

I won’t let them do that. Not as long as I still breathe.

Huh? Why is that little queer and his fat pig-dog walking with that detective? I had seen that man down at that disgusting book store a few times this past week. Wondered why they’re talking to those disgusting perverts.

Oh my dear God in Heaven. That little faggot had the nerve to wear five heeled boots with a skirt over shorts and a sweater that just show off a shoulder like he was so cheap whore. And his hair was in a little ponytail too.

Good thing that my sweet little children never had to see that kind of filth. Their safety at home where they belonged.

Hmm, what was that? I need to get a little a closer in order to see…

Well, that’s interesting. He had that strange assortment of moles on his shoulder just like my sweet little Lance did. Not many people have that in common.

Come to think of it. That little homo do have the strangest eyes that I ever did see.

Just like Little Lance had.

Just like two tiny little moons. The only kind of moons that one could see clearly during the day.

That’s a very odd. If I say so my self.

Opps, gotta go. I need to get a start on the coffee before the morning rush comes in.

***

A few bystanders were a bit annoyed when an old man was roughly pushing through them like a plow with a polite smile on his wrinkled face. But none really cared that much about since there was a find of over thirty children’s skeleton bones in the quarry.

Many wondered about the small blonde man that was tugging a pudgy bulldog behind him as he walked with the detectives over to spot where skeletons were already placed for inspection.

Many wondered how that many skeletons could have been in that area and for how long that they were there.

****

Bain felt eyes on him as he walked with Cheza and Marks. So many people had gathered around the area just to see the poor bones of dead children. Blacken and decayed after years of burial. He wanted to scream at them, telling them to get a life and show some respect for the dead.

He did look at the crowds and for a moment he had thought he had seen a ghost from the past, a very non-too friendly ghost of a very awful and terrifying past. But just as soon he had show the face, it had disappeared deep into the crowds as if it never had existed.

“Mind telling me, how this came about.” Cheza spoke to a uniformed officer while Bain just wondered farther down to see the bones of past victims on a more personal scale.

Many of them were broken, shattered to pieces on the blue tarp. Skulls with big holes in them. Toe and finger bones missing, maybe forever. Jaws almost dropping away from the rest of the skull.

He took a big gulp and reached down to rubbed the whimpering Slone between the ears. Calming him down while calming himself down.

He knew some of them, maybe all of them. Stories of bad little children’s dead bodies being dumped in that fucking lake and this damn quarry ran through his already disturbed mind.

Children who didn’t like to be beaten and touched every single fucking day of their lives!

Children who didn’t received the chance of living like he did and just laid to be forever forgotten in a bottom of a lake or a big pile of rocks.

That old scar, covered by a tattoo designed by his best friend, the one where that last stab had caused him to lose conscious had started to throb while he walked down the gruesome row of bones.

God-Dammit! Why did they, he, had to suffer for days, weeks, months and years at the hands of a fucking psycho?! Why were they chosen for this stupid fate?

To be buried alive when they turned thirteen.

To have their bodies dumped like forgotten garbage.

To live with nightmares and pain that would never go away, even after so many pills were swallowed day after day.

“FUCK!” He fell to his knees, digging his hands in the wet cold ground. Tears ran down his face like angry waterfalls as he sobbed uncontrollably and rocked back and forth in a strange rhythm.

Slone pawed at his owner’s arms, whining and whimpering as he wondered what was wrong with the beloved human. He couldn’t understand why such small bones were driving his master to act out in this way.

Some of the officers in dark blue nylon police issued coats made a move to see if the small blonde was all right. But Detective Cheza had ordered them to stay away from him. To just let him cry it out.

To just get it all out.

****
Slone the dog says: "Review and Shippa will update. Master will be all right. I hope."