‘That one?’
‘…too fat.’
An elegant mouth took a shallow drink of beer to soothe a parched throat.
‘Him?’
‘…what a hideous creature.’
Cold brown eyes scanned the room, flitting restlessly from one patron to the next.
‘What about him?’
‘…so very plain.’
Die growled under his breath, biting back the impatience and frustration threatening to choke him. What was he going to do now? Over an hour spent sitting in this club, waiting for someone
worthy to cross his path, and still no one managed to catch and hold his interest. Dragging his thumb absentmindedly through the condensation on his glass, he considered going somewhere else. This was the best gay bar in the area, but if the crowd was going to remain so exceptionally unattractive, he didn’t have much choice. He couldn’t wait for another night, and he
wasn’t going to settle for anyone less than perfect. Sitting back in his seat, he took a long, deep drink of his beer, resigning himself to his fate and preparing to leave as soon as his drink was finished.
When his head came back down, movement from the entrance caught his eye, and he nearly choked.
‘…two?’ A pair of men was just coming in, scoping out the club with the open curiosity of first-timers. Both were rather short, with stylishly messy hair that flashed gold in the passing strobe lights, dressed simply enough to avoid undue attention, but attractive enough to keep it should it land on them. One had big eyes under a spiky fringe of bangs, his black blazer and the white shirt underneath left casually unbuttoned to show off a small collection of silver necklaces and the unusual piercings at his neck and sternum. This one had a more slender frame than his companion, and held himself in a more welcoming stance. The other’s eyes were sharper, half obscured by hair cropped short over the left side and hanging long over the right, and had an indistinguishable tattoo creeping up the side of his neck from under the collar of his black denim jacket. Two fine faces, with shapely cheeks and sweetly-curving lips; two lean, toned bodies moving with understated but undeniable grace and confidence.
‘They’re lovely…’ Die’s tongue flicked out to wet suddenly-dry lips, feeling the need inside him boil and rise just looking at the two men. Easily distinguishable from one another, he decided, but unless they were both raging narcissists, too similar to be involved with one another. He was proven correct when the more sociable-looking one with the piercings split off to a more populated section of the club with a flirtatious little smirk, and the tattooed one drifted towards a quieter corner of the bar, close to where Die sat.
‘This one.’
‘Oh yes. He’ll do nicely.’
It tore at his last remaining shreds of control, but Die bided his time, sipping at the last of his beer as the blonde settled at the bar and ordered something amber-colored in a short glass. No one else approached him. There would be no competition. The other blonde stayed off in the crowd. No distractions or interference. The small man was looking about himself, but making no move to engage. A wallflower, but an interested one. Die couldn’t ask for a more perfect target. The blonde raised his drink, wrapping those plush lips around the glass, the length of his neck flexing enticingly as he swallowed, and Die had to bite back a groan. He pounded the last of his beer and abandoned the glass on the table as he made his way toward the bar.
“I’ve never seen you before. Do you come here often?”
The blonde looked up at the sudden greeting, apparently surprised by it. His mouth opened partway, as if to respond, but he seemed to hesitate, and there was a long, awkward silence instead. Die braced his hands against the bar as if simply waiting for the bartender, and flashed a charmingly embarrassed smile.
“Oh man… that was probably really cheesy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry.”
The uncomfortable moment was broken, and the shorter man tried to wave it off, “No, no!” But a wry smile was cracking his lips, and he had to admit the truth with sympathetic amusement. “Well… yeah, it was a bit.”
Die hung his head, scratching the back of his neck while scrunching his face up in a show of the sweetest awkwardness, “Ah, jeez…”
The blonde laughed, not unkindly, and turned in his seat to face Die fully. Through the curtain of brunette hair shielding the taller man’s face, he never saw the victorious smirk curving Die’s lips as he reached out to introduce himself.
‘Gotcha.’ Finally, his hunt had yielded an attractive prey and he could proceed to the chase. It was a dance he was uncommonly skilled at; a wonderfully effective balance between flirtation and small town charm, disarming and utterly good-natured. His lips wove a steady spell with engaging smiles and sharp-witted humor that had his prey hanging on his every word. His hands danced about enthusiastically, ever-so-sweetly tucking his hair behind his ears or reaching out to brush over the blonde’s arm between gestures to create a steadily-building sense of intimacy between them. He made the younger man laugh and – though even the boy’s name was forgotten the moment he spoke it – he gave every appearance of being a wonderfully attentive listener.
Die took the man’s tab upon himself and as minutes crept into hours, one drink after another drained itself past full lips. Laughter became a little more frequent and a touch louder, cheeks took on a faint flush, eyes glittered just a little brighter in the bar light. The blonde was being careful not to get
too drunk, or at least he was trying to be. Die kept him just distracted enough that his hands and mouth occupied themselves without too much thought, drinking simply because he was holding a drink and it was easy to lose count. Closer, they drifted, closer and closer as intoxication and good conversation bred warm familiarity and ease.
‘Almost…’
‘Gah, just shut up and let’s get out of here you stupid creature!’
‘Patience… have to be patient…’ To be honest, he liked hearing the blonde’s voice – an uneven speaking pace that swam, pitchy, up and down with uncommon inflection – but his words simply didn’t register. They didn’t matter. This whole exercise was simply a means to Die’s end, and served little more purpose than to whet his appetite. Learning the way the other moved, all the little gestures and rhythms of motion and utterances, building fantasy upon fantasy around the most minute details to incite himself further. And such an effective hors d'oeuvre it was; Die couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited to connect with someone or so impatient to get them alone. His heart was racing, his fingers were itching, and he could hardly keep from rocking in his seat with the repressed need to
touch this man.
“Jeez, it’s getting pretty loud in here…”
Those words – mumbled as they were into a half-empty amaretto sour – registered through the impatient static in Die’s ears. Swallowing and trying not to sound too eager, he cocked his head at the smaller man, “Yeah it is… Hey, do you want to find somewhere a little quieter? I know a nice park nearby.”
The blonde smiled and stood – a bit unsteadily, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”
‘Fucking finally…’
‘Ahh, I can’t wait!’ Die smiled and nodded, leaving a folded stack of cash under his empty glass to pay for their drinks as the other man slipped off into the crowd toward the restrooms. He could feel himself shivering with anticipation. The chase was almost over; he could almost
feel the blonde’s skin under his fingertips, smell him,
taste his sweat. It had been so long…
“Hey. All set?”
“Let’s go.”
Under the pretense of guidance, Die put a hand to the smaller man’s lower back as they made their way out of the bar. So preoccupied with his own impending bliss, he never noticed big brown eyes watching them from beneath a fringe of spiky gold bangs, or the mischievous grin that curled pierced lips. His tattooed prize did, though, and flashed a surreptitious wink back over his shoulder at his original companion just before passing through the doorway.
They walked for several blocks, talking about nothing Die would ever remember, the blonde’s steps weaving just a bit and periodically leading him to bump into his companion’s side. Die made a show of catching and steadying him each time – any excuse to touch – and they laughed it off; to all appearances, two simple men enjoying each other’s company. Good friends, perhaps, or a first date that went particularly well. A nice enough sight, but ultimately dismissible so late at night, and no one was around to take note of the pair as they passed into the park.
‘So close… we’re so close now!’
‘The moon’s so bright tonight… makes him look so-…’ It took every last shred of his self control for Die to keep himself walking at a casual pace when all he wanted to do was grab the blonde by the wrist and drag him at a full run down the familiar twisting path. The trail led to a stretch of wooded area, where it split off into dozens of side-paths that ended either in little groves or joined up with other trails, creating a sort of maze between trees and heavy underbrush. At night, it was a rather romantic place; solitary, silent but for the soft trills of cicada and leaves rustling in a gentle breeze, creating a wonderfully intimate atmosphere around them. Eventually, they reached a secluded clearing at the heart of the wood, trees parted overhead to let white moonlight pour over them and thick, soft grass underfoot.
The tattooed man was apparently delighted by the scene, pulling away from Die to run to the center of the clearing and turn his face up into the light with a serene smile. Die followed at a more sedate pace, coming to stand behind him. The blonde turned to face him, eyes bright with wonder, and opened his mouth to speak-
“H- Ggk!”
The blonde took a staggering step back, his face abruptly twisted in confusion and disbelief, hands coming over to hover uselessly over the long gash now bisecting his neck. Blood gushed forth, thick and dark, and a mouth that could no longer speak or draw air struggled to do either. Wide gold eyes took in a hand now streaked with red and wrapped lovingly around a glistening knife, then rose to stare up at Die’s utterly cold features, questioning, before the blonde crumpled to the forest floor.
Die knelt next to his prey and set the knife aside, letting shaking hands grab and claw at him with aimless desperation, “Shhh, it’s okay… it’s okay. Soon you’ll be perfect.”
Die watched on as blood continued to spill out in rhythmic waves, until the tense body finally went lax and sank into the grass, utterly still. Sightless gold eyes stared off to one side, forever frozen in hopeless shock. Letting loose a shuttering breath laced with a faint moan, Die took the smaller man’s face in both hands and swooped down, tugging the blonde head up to seal them in a passionate kiss. He drove himself past those sweet lips and found a soft, unresisting tongue that still tasted faintly of almond liquor. Ecstasy burned through him and he moved to kneel on top of the body, rocking his hips roughly against the smaller man’s as he lapped eagerly at that delicious mouth. He ran his thumbs over smooth cheeks, slid his fingers back to run through silky gold hair, and tasted his prize until he ran out of breath and had to pull back, panting as he stared down at the body.
‘So damned beautiful…’ Truly a lovely body… heavy, pliant and yielding to his every whim, existing only for his pleasure. His eyes rolled back into his head with bliss as he groaned and tipped the head back, delving his tongue into the gaping wound spanning the blonde’s throat. He didn’t normally taste his victims’ blood but tonight, nothing had ever smelt so sweet to him, and the thick, coppery flavor made him absolutely ache with need. His hands shook with it as they made their way down to the front of the blonde’s shirt and yanked furiously at either side until the buttons snapped and came apart. Under that, he found more tattoos etched into an elegant clavicle, as well as one clawing its way up one side of magnificently toned abs. He traced along the lines of ink with his fingers, then his lips and tongue until each was wet and shined as if new. He found a tiny little naval and played at it; dipping the tip of his tongue in, sucking at the skin around it and nipping at the upper edge.
‘Gods, he tastes good.’ He slid down to undo the pants next, pulling the fly open and grabbing hold of pants and boxers alike then inching them down with sharp, jerking motions that shook the entire body. He managed with some effort to peel them away and cast them aside before sliding his palms back up strong legs to explore the treasure nestled in neatly-trimmed black hair. The flaccid cock was wonderfully soft between his fingers, silky-smooth and still warm. He deeply enjoyed the feel of it, rubbing his thumb over the delicate flesh and stroking it slowly, lovingly.
‘He’s almost perfect.’
‘I just need to…’
Licking his lips, Die picked up his knife again and plunged it into the blonde’s belly just under the ribs, dragging it down through the crevice between those lovely abdominal muscles until he hit the little naval and pulled it back out. Driving his free hand into the opening, he felt around blindly for what he wanted most, pushing and pulling aside whatever other parts got in his way until viscera was spilling out of the wound to glisten black in the moonlight. A wet, rattling breath pushing out of the blonde’s throat let him know he’d hit a lung and he groped around that area until he felt was he was looking for. Wrapping his fingers around the coveted organ, he braced his thighs around the body to keep it in place and
yanked. Veins and arteries snapped one by one and the sick, wet sound of suction and tearing flesh joined Die’s panting breath in the still night air until finally the blonde’s heart came free of his chest.
“You don’t need this,” Die hissed at the body, abruptly angry. “You would never have loved me. Who could ever-… you don’t need this!”
He turned to get rid of the organ, to crush it in his palm until it was unrecognizable as anything other than mangled meat and cast it aside, just as he had done all the others. But something stopped him. That sweet, coppery smell hit him again, making his mouth water, and he had no control left to even hesitate before indulging the strange new urge. Bringing the organ up to his lips, curiously, he ran his tongue over the smooth surface and found himself groaning in pleasure. The knife fell from his fingers, landing in the mess he’d made with the rest of his victim’s innards, and he held the heart in both hands as he sank his teeth into the soft, strong tissue. Blood spilled down his chin, and his eyelashes fluttered closed.
“Unnnnhhhhh…”
Everything about that single bite – the
taste, the
texture, the inherent
wrongness of feeding on the flesh of another human being – ramped the madness in Die to a fever pitch, and his lust flared to a blazing need. Frantically, he made a fist around what remained of the heart and flung it into the grass before fumbling his own pants open and gasping as cool night air teased at his aching erection. Never before had he yearned this badly for one of his victims, never before had his need been so mindlessly consuming. Never before had his pleasure been so deep as to almost
burn inside. Gracelessly, he hitched up one limp leg to expose the blonde’s entrance, slicking blood over his arousal with one quick hand.
When he finally drove into the warm, tight passage, it felt as though electricity was coursing through him, and his own heart might burst within his chest. Good – so goddamn good –
too good to be borne with any semblance of a rational mind. He braced his hands in the grass on either side of the hollowed chest, and the body folded in half beneath him, legs bending up and out at awkward angles to allow room for his quick, deep thrusts. So tight, but
yielding; so warm with life, but still as death; constrictive around him, letting him in deeper than any living partner ever would or could. Unresisting. Undemanding. Unjudgmental.
Perfection, just for him. This was his love.
Under the white moonlight, he labored with a feral desperation, using the mangled body beneath his as a macabre pleasure toy. His hands shifted, grasping, clawing and grabbing at once-strong arms and rounded shoulders for some semblance of stability. He kissed gaping lips again, drawing the soft amaretto tongue into his mouth and sucking on it as his beating hips lost their rhythm and succumbed to wild, brutal motions-within-motions of rutting, jerking, and pounding. When he disengaged, gasping for air, the blonde head lolled to the side, vacant eyes still staring off into the void. That empty look of lingering disbelief – that helpless shock etched into a façade no longer housing a soul – undid him, abruptly and explosively. His entire body went rigid and he let out a low cry of satisfaction as white pleasure burned its way through and out of him, flooding the remains of the small blonde man.
Panting, Die eased back onto the balls of his feet, crouching, and looked around himself. He’d been here too long. It was time to go. But first, he collected his sticky, slick knife and examined the blonde for a trophy to take home; something unique that he could always remember this night with. Hair…? It was a pretty pale gold, but ultimately, blonde was not an uncommon color. Jewelry? There were a few unusual rings, and a bracelet that Die found particularly attractive… but no, tonight had been special. It deserved a special trophy. A finger, perhaps; they were such long, elegant things, and some of them were decorated.
‘Decoration…’
His eyes strayed to the ink staining the blonde’s neck, collarbone, and shoulders. Yes… a tattooed bit of skin would make a fine prize. But which one? The swooping, grinning skull? The graceful calligraphy spelling out ‘Damned’? No… he’d seen one earlier that he’d rather liked, hadn’t he? On the side… He had to push a trailing bulge of viscera out of the way, and wipe at coagulating blood to locate what he wanted, and he let out a breathy sigh when he did. That lovely, vicious tiger clawing its way up the deliciously toned torso. Carefully, he carved out a rectangle around the tattoo and peeled the skin away from the muscle it covered.
Standing and turning his back on the gore-filled clearing, Die let the most profound contentment flow through his entire being, and turned the first true smile he’d managed in months up to the moon.
