The Possessor

Jake

I’m standing with my back against the locker beside Foxy’s, watching the toes of my sneakers and listening to my best friend chatter one about some girl he’d met earlier that week. I’m not really paying too much attention; despite the nickname, Edgar ‘Foxy’ Foxworth isn’t that attractive, and most of the girls he gets all wrapped up about barely even acknowledge him. It would be pitiful if he wasn’t such a jerk to girls anyway. It’s after class on Friday and all I want to do is go home and curl up in bed. I’m tired; this week has pretty much kicked my ass.

“…but you’ll see what I mean later today.” Foxy says, and I look up at him, confused. He sighs and glares at me. “You didn’t hear me, did you?” he asks, and I shake my head slowly. “Your parents are gone for the weekend.”

“So?”

He slams his locker shut and shoulders his backpack. “So I want to bring Kaity over.”

I groan. “Fox, no.” I tell him. “I had a really bad week. I just need to relax.”

“So relax.” he says, and we head towards the double doors that lead to the parking lot. “It won’t be until later.”

“I don’t really…” I trail off as he push out into the sunlight. Something has caught my eye, and like usual, all capacity for higher thinking goes right out the window.

Dominic is sitting on a bench until the birch tree at the edge of the courtyard, one leg tucked under him, a book in his lap. As I watch, he lifts one hand up to brush his honey colored hair away from his eyes, which are smoky slate colored. I sigh under my breath, not really paying attention to where I’m walking.

A sharp slap on the back of my head brings me out of it. “Earth to Jake!” Foxy snaps at me, and I glare at him. “Man, you zone out more often than-” he stops, noticing Dominic, and sneers. “Are you still drooling over that Puppet?”

I wince at the racial slur and fight down the urge to punch Foxy in the face. I glance at Dominic again, and watch the light strike the pendant around his throat. The light refracts, throwing tiny dots of rainbow against the pages of his book. “You shouldn’t say shit like that.” I tell Foxy.

He rolls his eyes. “Just calling a spade a spade, so to speak.” he says. “And who cares what I call him?”

“I do.” Foxy scowls and looks away, and I take one last look at Dominic before heading out into the parking lot with my best friend.

“You’ve been in love with that kid since the seventh grade.” Foxy tells me, like I need reminding. “You’d think that you’d have worked up the courage to talk to him by now.”

“You’d think you’d have learned to shut up by now.” I counter, and he clutches his head and rolls his eyes, silently mocking my lame comeback. “What’s it any of your business, anyway?”

“I’m just tired of watching it, man.” Foxy unlocks his car door an we get in. He throws his backpack in the backseat. “We’re seniors.”

“So?”

“You’re a virgin.” he glares at me. “My best friend is a fucking virgin.”

I shrug. “I’m still confused as to how that’s any of your business.”

“It’s just embarrassing for me.” he says, and I reach over and punch him in the shoulder. He grins and starts the car. “You could at least just get it out of the way already.”

I roll my eyes. “Let it go.”

“Whatever.” he backs out of the parking space. “So about tonight-”

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. He knows I’m going to agree, knows I always do. I’m not in the mood to put up with his shit, so I just say, “Yea, okay, bring her over.” He grins at me and turns on the radio full blast.

At home, I eat a bagel and drink a glass of iced tea, then go upstairs and lay down. My back is sore, my head is aching, and I just want a nap. I stretch out on my stomach, close my eyes, and drift to sleep.

****************************************************************************

Dominic

I watch him get in the car, my eyes narrowed. Against the skin of my throat the pendant warms and I feel the soft, silky slide of the Possessor as it uncurls and awakens.

“Racist.” it whispers, and I hum my agreement. “He’s the problem, isn’t he?” the Possessor spreads its intangible fingers against my cheek, stroking, soothing, and I close my eyes. “I could-”

“No.” I tell it, and it pulls away slowly. “Leave Edgar alone.”

“He’s a problem.” the Possessor insists and I sigh. “He’s in the way.”

“I know.” I reach up, pressing my fingers against the four pointed crystal suspended from the chain around my neck. “You need to be patient, though. I can’t hurry this.”

The Possessor says nothing, and after a while I close my book and stand up. Most of the people have gone, and I feel comfortable enough to walk home. Growing up with a Possessor, I’ve learned how to protect myself in a fight, but kids, especially high school kids, usually fight in packs.

As I walk, I think about what the Possessor wants from me. I’d always known that this would happen eventually. Possessors had to mate eventually. They found a suitable mate through certain mental markers and a type of ‘smell’ that both myself and my Possessor had. People smelled differently to me than other humans. I’d always noticed it. It wasn’t until recently, when I smelled Jake, that I realized what it was for. You see, most people smell like what they are; blood, sweat, skin, hair. Some people gave off completely off the wall smells. My mother smelled like roses and something like mint. The girl who sat next to me in American Lit smelled like gasoline. Interesting, sometimes pleasant, but never had it affected me like Jake’s had. Jake smelled like sugar and burning leaves and sex. When I’d first noticed it, it felt like a punch to the stomach. It was so overwhelming it blocked out not only all other smells but all sound, too, and my vision had darkened. It had scared me and made me so horny I thought I was going to explode right then and there. That night, my Possessor had explained to me why Jake’s smell had affected me that way.

I’d always known that the whole mating thing would come up sooner or later. I just wasn’t expecting my Possessor to want a male.

That had been the fourth day of my senior year. Now, it’s a week before Spring Break, and I haven’t done a thing about the situation. Why? Simply put, I’m terrified. Sex with a guy? My Possessor tells me that Jake would have absolutely no problem with it; insists, in fact, that Jake’s been eyeing me for years. I’m not sure if I believe him. My Possessor has lied before to get what it wants. And it really, really wants Jake.

Not to say that I’m not beginning to warm to the idea. I mean, my Possessor’s emotions are linked with my own. What it feels, I feel, and vice versa. So as it’s need to mate increases, as I make it wait for this, it intensifies. Enough so that recently, when I’m around Jake, I’m sporting a major hard on and I can’t even think straight. Jake’s physical form is becoming very attractive to me. He’s medium height, probably five ten or so, slender, nice ass, beautiful hands. Hair the color of dark chocolate, with a curious little white streak above his left temple. Eyes the color of snake skin; green and brown and yellow. Hazel something, who cares, his eyes are beautiful. A cute face, round, sweet almost, slightly upturned nose, full mouth, great teeth. He wears a little silver barbell through his eyebrow and his earlobes are gauged out big enough for me to stick my thumb through the holes.

My body is all on board for mating with Jake. It’s my brain that needs to get with the program. Besides, the whole thing with Jake’s best friend being a racist asshole is really a stumbling block for me. Not to mention the lack of information I’ve gotten out of my Possessor. What happens after the mating? If Jake’s really into me like my Possessor claims, won’t he want a relationship? Would he understand if I explained to him that it’s my Possessor that wants him, not me?

So concerned with my own thought, I don’t even notice my Possessor as it stretches out around me, thinner than smoke, a slight haze of the air around my head and shoulders. I haven’t been paying attention, but it has. So when I turn the corner onto my street, it reacts to the four boys waiting for me. It stops me feet so abruptly that I nearly fall; it’s like getting your ankles clothes-lined. I snap my head up, startled.

I recognize them immediately. Alan Bartling, his brother Mark, and their two friends, Quinn Winters and Victor Pratt. The four people in my life that I wish would die very slowly, painful deaths. They’ve certainly made my life painful.

“Hey, Puppet.” Alan says, grinning at me, and I feel my Possessor tense and crackle around me. “I’ve got a question for you.”

I take a step back, nervous as hell. I don’t say anything, I know better.

Alan advanced a step as I retreat, his hands in his pockets. “My history class is studying you freaks.” he says, and I bite my tongue to keep back a sigh. “Says you guys mate, like animals. Is that true?”

My Possessor hisses softly, and I acknowledge the weird timing with a quick hiss in return. I’m trying to watch all four of them at once; the others have started to circle.

Alan shakes his head. “I’ve got a problem with that, see.” he tells me. “You shouldn’t exist. You know that. You and that parasite, you shouldn’t even be alive.” part of this is true. The chances of a human who obtains a Possessor as young as I did surviving are pretty slim. But this isn’t what Alan means. “The idea of you and that thing procreating is just disgusting.”

My Possessor makes me aware that Mark has gotten behind me, and there’s something metal in his hand. A knife? My Possessor isn’t sure.

Before anything else can happen, a car comes screeching to a halt beside us. We all turn and look, my heart pounding, and the window rolls down.

“Yes, officer, the corner of Willow Run and Fifth Street.” Foxy says into his cell phone, smirking directly at Alan. “Oh, yes, one of them, Mark Bartling, has what looks like a knife.”

“Fucker.” I heard Alan whisper.

Foxy catches my eye and jerks his head towards the passenger seat. I don’t need a second invitation. I hustle my ass around the front of his car and get in. Foxy sticks his tongue out at Alan as he pulls away from the curb. When he’s far enough away he snaps his phone shut and tosses it in the center console.

“You weren’t really on the phone with the police.” I say, and he shakes his head. “Thank you.” I’m confused, really confused, and a little scared.

“Can’t have that face of yours all fucked up.” Foxy says, smirking.

I frown and shake my head, and feel my Possessor’s anger. I fight it down. “You can just drop me off-”

“-at your house.” he says. “Let’s not tempt fate, hmm?” we’re nearly there anyway; I was almost home when Alan and his little idiots showed up.

“Can I ask why?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I might be racist, but I’m not that racist.” he says, making me smile despite myself. “Besides, like I said, if your face got all fucked up, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“What do you mean?”

He glances at me. “Are you blind?” he asks me. “Seriously?” he pulls into my driveway.

I decide to let this slide. I can’t think of anything to say, so I just thank him again and get out of the car. I watch him drive away, then go inside. I can hear my mother in her office, clattering away at her computer. I feed my dog, Bones, and then go to my room and curl up on my bed. My Possessor slides up, stroking my neck, my face, and I sigh and close my eyes.

“What the hell am I going to do?” I ask the ceiling.