A Life Less Ordinary

by Scarlett Cross

  “Back in Moscow at this moment. Seems you gave him slip, it took him two weeks to figure out you had gone from America. He was extremely pissed off, violently remodeled your papa’s old office, or so my man on inside says—and I trust him.” Oleg chuckled, but then his tone became serious and he explained to Ivan exactly why he had called.

  “He…he did not…he would not…Oleg, are you absolutely certain of this?” Ivan was clutching Aleksei’s delicate smartphone so hard now that the screen had shattered.

  “That is what I am telling you, boy. My contact with military adjutant is absolutely positive. Yuri’s torture and…other things…it all leads back to Dmitri. He was pimping his own brother…and making small fortune doing it.” Oleg said, adamantly, but then his tone softened. “Now you must tell me, what can I do to help protect boy? I may not agree with his lifestyle but I like blood traitors even less.”

  “I…I cannot discuss this with you now, uncle. I will be in touch.” Ivan placed the ruined phone on the countertop, seemingly unaware of the three sets of eyes watching him, nervously. He was clearly shaken, his face gone as pale as death when he glimpsed his reflection in a decorative mirror on the wall. Seeing Ivan that way was unsettling to them all, but Yuri was the most upset, already he had tears in his eyes, as if he knew whatever Ivan had learned was terrible.

  “Ivan…”Rosa began but he did not look at her, instead he turned to Aleksei.

  “Tell her, Aleksei. It is time she knows everything.” With that, he turned and left, Yuri hot on his heels, though he didn’t speak until they were outside. “Not now, Yuri.”

  “Yes now, Ivan.” Yuri immediately countered. “Whatever it is, I’ll find out soon enough. Better to get it out in the open so we can deal with it.”

  “I am afraid you will relapse if I tell you…is about your time in Army…” Ivan said and Yuri immediately sat, fortunately there was a stone bench behind him, it was as if the strength had gone right out of his legs. “I cannot do this…not like this…not here…Aleksei needs to hear. Let him tell Rosa…and then I will tell everyone.” But first, he knew, he would have to talk to Aleksei so he was the wiser to what was about to happen. Ten minutes passed and Yuri lit a cigarette, a disgusting habit he’d picked up in America, but for once Ivan did not scold him. In truth, by the fifteen minute mark he was beginning to think he’d need one himself. Finally, a half-hour later, Rosa came barreling out of the kitchen and threw her arms around Yuri, who looked at Ivan, bemusedly.

  “Now, everyone back inside. I need to tell you what I have just found out.” Ivan said, herding both of them back into the apartment and literally half-dragging Aleksei into the den. He got everyone seated, and then launched into what Oleg had just told him, watching Yuri closely, as was everyone else, as he explained. When he had finished, the room was deathly quiet for a long moment and to Ivan it seemed the whole world was holding its breath. Then suddenly, Yuri bolted from the room and up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Aleksei went too, not fast enough to catch him but they could hear the soft murmuring of his voice, pleading with Yuri to open the door.

  Ivan sat down heavily on the couch and hid his face in his hands, loving the feel of Rosa’s comforting warmth when she sat beside him and pulled him over so his head was in her lap. He knew the tears were coming before it happened. He, who had never cried in his life, other than the night his papa died and that was to be expected, now actually sobbed as she stroked his hair and talked in the same soft murmurs Aleksei was directing at Yuri. Eventually a sense of peace came over him, and he drifted off to sleep, his tears as exhausted as the rest of him.

  For two days Yuri refused to come out of the bedroom he shared with Aleksei. He did not eat or shower or sleep, nor did they hear him make any sound other than incessant pacing of his feet on the soft carpeting. Ivan, Aleksei and Rosa were sitting in the courtyard garden, private to their apartment late into the third night when a sudden tapping above their heads drew their attention up. Yuri was motioning to Aleksei, and immediately the heartsick blonde was on his feet.

  “Aleksei…be careful. You do not know him as he was, you did not see him at his worst as I did. I had to beat him into submission, he attacked me, even. You are significantly less…” Ivan seemed at a loss here, not wanting to hurt Aleksei’s feelings.

  “Intimidating? Enormous?” Aleksei looked relieved to have been summoned, foolishly so, as if he thought the worst were over and now all would be as it had been. “I’ll be fine, Ivan. Don’t worry.” With that, before Ivan could protest, he turned and half-ran into the apartment.

  “But I do worry. This is going to get ugly, Rosa.” Ivan muttered and felt her comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed. I am tired, and I suspect we will not be seeing much sleep tonight.”

  His words could not have come truer if he had been an honest to goodness clairvoyant.

  Chapter 21

  Aleksei lay still and sleepy, but his dark purple eyes were open, watching Yuri as he twitched and occasionally snarled in his sleep, just as dogs sometimes do. He wondered what his beloved was dreaming, but the realization that it was probably something horrible frightened him. He had just begun to relax, to doze, when Yuri suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed, a startled cry escaping him. He was licking his left hand like mad, like a dog with a wounded paw, and after watching for a moment, Aleksei sat up slowly in the bed. Seeking only to comfort him, Aleksei placed a hand on Yuri’s shoulder, gently, but instead of lying back down and snuggling in, Yuri’s head whipped around and he bit into Aleksei’s hand. The bite was hard, his healthy, strong teeth cracked bones and, when Aleksei recoiled, tearing away a horribly large piece of skin.

  Stunned, shocked, but not completely witless, Aleksei screamed at the top of his lungs for Ivan, then backed away. He was unmindful of the fact he was naked other than the bed sheet, which was fast becoming crimson with the amount of blood pouring from the wound, but in his terror that was the least of his worries. Yuri, scenting blood, turned now and crept down off of the bed, moving like an animal rather than a man, his tongue touching some of the fresh blood on the floor. When his eyes met Aleksei’s, the doctor could see that the Yuri he had known had receded, releasing something entirely different. Something not at all human.

  Ivan burst in through the door at that instant and Yuri immediately turned, but not to Ivan, instead his eyes landed on Rosa, who was hovering outside the door, behind the blonde giant. Paying no heed to Ivan, Yuri made an enormous bound, trying to clear his half-brother, and he might have done if Ivan hadn’t been quicker on the draw than he expected. Catching Yuri, he slammed him hard on the floor, winding him, as Rosa hurried in to see to Aleksei, also unmindful of his being naked. None of that mattered now, she went into emergency-room doctor mode, wrapping the hand, trying to lead him away.

  “No, no I can’t leave him…he…he needs me.” Aleksei protested, and Rosa did something that startled Ivan and further enraged Yuri. She slapped him, a very stiff slap, right across face. “What the hell, Rosa?”

  “Look at your hand, Alex, you’ll lose it if I don’t get that skin sewed back in place and now. If I even can in these conditions. I only have limited supplies.” She said, and he finally acquiesced, allowing her to lead him from the room, the bloody sheet in his hand, feeling strange walking naked next to a woman, though he did not comment or complain. In the room, Yuri began to howl and Aleksei hesitated but Rosa pulled him on, patient but firm. “Come, Alex.”

  Ivan placed his hand over Yuri’s mouth to stifle the wailing cries and received the dagger-sharp sensation of Yuri’s teeth digging right into the flesh of his hand for his trouble. Unlike Aleksei, though, Ivan did not back away or try to pull his hand out. He knew all too well how strong Yuri’s jaws were, and suspected correctly that Aleksei had done at least part of the damage himself when he’d ripped his hand free. Still, Yuri was not to be blamed, he was in a dark place and Ivan murmured to him softly as the blood ran up is arm, pooling on the car
pet. Even when he felt faint from the blood-loss, he did not waiver in his soft words.

  Sometime during the night, Ivan felt gentle hands on him, shaking him, but he did not know by then where he was or even who he was. He heard a woman’s voice, something about blood-loss and even death, but the words meant nothing about him, how could they? Certainly, he told himself, they were talking about someone else. So, when he felt the floor moving under him, saw the flashing of red and white lights and heard the sirens, he thought it was all a dream and embraced the darkness, thinking the dream would fade now and just let him sleep.

  One week passed before the Italian hospital would release Ivan, he had to pass quarantine after such a terrible dog-bite. The head constable over the police in their district came round that same day to tell him they had regrettably not captured the dog, though there had been sightings. Sightings Ivan knew had been strategically planted by word of mouth by Aleksei and Rosa. He had not seen Yuri, nor had he asked after him, and so he was surprised when one evening Yuri came into the bedroom looking as if nothing happened and sat down on the bed. Rosa and Aleksei were following him, both looking more than a little apprehensive, likely fearing Ivan would seek retribution. He had almost died, and it had been Yuri who had caused it.

  “I…I’m sorry for…for all this.” Yuri said, placing a hand on Ivan’s arm, just above the bandages. “If…if you hate me…”

  “Nyet, Yuri. I hate Dmitri. I love you. You and Aleksei are only family I have left.” Ivan said, then reached up with his uninjured hand to ruffle Yuri’s hair, gently. “What happened that night, Yuri? What caused to you to…relapse I think is word?”

  “If you have the time…I’d like to tell you.” Yuri said, scooting up beside Ivan on his uninjured side, leaning against the headboard. Rosa situated herself on the other side and Aleksei wormed in on Yuri’s other side. “If the bed doesn’t break….” He added and they all laughed, though it was more out of a release of tension than humor.

  Chapter 22

  I was so excited, finally to be free of Russia’s strict anti-homosexuality bullshit. Papa had arranged for me to leave that day, to go into London and live with Aleksei. I was to attend University there, where it was more commonplace to, well, live our way. Papa was out of town, which he’s told you I’m sure, but he had already told me what time the car would be ready to take me to the airport and on to freedom. So, when the knock came thirty minutes early, I was so excited I ran all the way down from my rooms to the front door. I even beat the butler to the door! But when I opened the door, it wasn’t the car to freedom, it was Dmitri and he looked nasty. I mean, he was impeccable in his uniform but he looked, evil. I tried to slam the door, but of course he is much stronger than I, so he simply pushed me back and I kind of tripped over that stupid rug the butler insisted on having and fell.

  In that instant he was on me, and he gave me the beating of a lifetime, or so I thought. Little did I know it would be the first of many to come. I managed to break away from him and flee to papa’s office, not that it did me any good. The soldiers came then and dragged me out, but not before allowing Dmitri to come at me again, so this time, I did the only thing I could think of because I really believed he intended to kill me. I stuck my fingers in his right eye hard enough I felt the actual eyeball rupture. Well, naturally, he went down, roaring with pain, blood and eye-fluid everywhere, and the soldiers, it took four of them, dragged me out as papa was coming in. Papa pleaded with them to let me go but they just brushed him out of the way and carried me out to the waiting panel truck. My training began as soon as I was in that truck.

  There were two men in the back, big burly bastards, not as big as you, Ivan, more like Dmitri’s size, and they were the biggest pair of bull queers I’ve ever met. The things they did to me I will not mention in Rosa’s presence, because one it is too crude and two, I really don’t think it’s necessary. Suffice it to say, I was bleeding, profusely, by the time we reached the camp. My clothing was taken and I was given, instead, a sort of loincloth made of dog-pelts and ordered to wear it. Then, they put me in a concrete holding cell and left me there in the dark, cold and damp. I had never been so terrified, so confused, so miserable in all of my life. In the first days, I made mental excuses for Dmitri, that he’d only been trying to help out the Army or that somehow he’d been forced into turning me over.

  But as the days passed and the punishment, and rape, worsened, and no one came for me, no one even seemed to know that Dmitri had been my brother, I began to understand. Not only had he done this, Dmitri, he had done this intentionally, he had known damn well what they were planning to do to me. So, I did what I had to do to survive. If I wanted to eat, I had to be a ‘good dog’ and do my duties well. I had to obey my master, the man who…whose throat I ripped out. He was the one who abused me the most, at first, sometimes five or six times a day I would get a visit from him for some sort of favor or other. When he was satisfied I was safe enough, he started letting me out to others, for a price.

  But then, he discovered what a savage fighter I could be, and had a new idea, something very different he could do with me. He started challenging other camps, fights to the death, ‘dog’ fights. I was crowned champion before long, as I had killed all of the other fighters in the ten camps in the area. Now, they decided, sexual preference or no, I would pass on my genes. I probably have children out there, somewhere, a thought that haunts me every day. Virgin women were brought in from the female training camps, verified medically. None of them wanted to ‘mate’ but I certainly had no problem. By that time I was just an animal, and I responded to what nature intended me to do.

  The entire mating was a show for all of the camp, the poor female would be tied in stocks, bent over, unable to move or to even lay eyes on me. Sometimes they were blindfolded, but most often they were facing the audience of hooting, crude comment making, and horny soldiers. As I said, it was all a big production, so I was brought in with a bit between my teeth, a man on each side of me, long reins as you might see on a horse, to control me. Not that I needed controlling, no, I knew my purpose and knew it well. They had tried a missionary mating once, but I nearly ripped the poor woman’s breast off, and I would guess she bled to death because they dragged me away before I could finish and she wasn’t moving. I was beaten so badly that night, I could barely move for days. Still the rape came, more than ever, set up I imagine by my ‘master’.

  After that I was allowed to rape these women, to receive the sacrifice of their innocence in the name of breeding more ‘pups’ like myself. At that time I did not understand…but in retrospect I understand perfectly. Someone was getting paid for my ‘stud’ services, and now I think we all know who, thanks to Oleg. So, it was that I was dreaming about, a breeding. Well, no, call it what it is, a rape one night, a lovely young woman who couldn’t have been but around twenty. When I’d finished, I was being bathed by two of my handlers, men who were, if you can imagine their pain, lower on the totem pole than even I was. Sometimes I can remember my master making them perform oral sex on me when I was overly excited. Forcing them to do it with a whip in one hand and gun in the other.

  Suddenly, I was untied from the cross-ties, and forced to kneeling as someone approached, a giant of a man wearing an eye-patch. I thought he’d come for the obvious and shuddered at sight of him, for compared to the men I was accustomed to, he was enormous. I assume that now you are noticing I am rubbing my left hand, as if it pains me, and it still does, but when this memory returned, I finally could recall how it was injured. I had locked it away inside, deep inside. The phone call from Oleg brought it all back. I did not look up at him, so he kicked me. Still I did not look up, I only cowered, as I’d been taught I had better do. My master was there, and he ordered me to look up at my owner. Owner? I had always thought my master was my owner, too. I looked up into the oddly familiar face, and something about the eye-patch wanted to jog my memory, but the feral beast in me wouldn’t let it. Self-preservation, I suppose.
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  But I do remember, now, everything he said to me that night, as he stood over me in the freezing cold, the water from my bath drying or freezing on my flesh. There were no warm, soft towels to dry me that night, no hot mush to warm my stomach as reward for my good performance. No, tonight there was only this man who claimed to own me and his cruel words and actions. He nodded a dismissal to my master and the two attendants, and I noticed then a riding crop on his belt with little metal studs in it, clearly he was an experienced handler and I was terrified of him from that moment on.

  He grabbed my collar and yanked me to my feet so hard it sprained my neck, an injury that still pains me to this day, though I rarely complain about it. “Do you know who I am?”

  I already knew better than to look at him a second time, I knew the consequences. He waited for a time and then he eventually released me back to my position on the ground, where I waited for whatever abuse was bound to come. Instead, he threw down some color photographs at my…in front of me. Even now, I wanted to say ‘feet’ instead of ‘hands’ as a normal human would. I looked at the pictures, a smiling young man with clean, shoulder-length black hair. In some I saw you, Ivan, others I saw the man before me now, the man who claimed to own me. Still, I could not put into words who the young man was, and I stared at him, straining my mind, trying to please my owner. When I had not answered for some time, he finally spat the answer out at me, but directly, instead he did so indirectly which I suspect was his plan all along.

  “His name, stupid mutt, is Yuri, and he is…was my brother.” He said, and for a moment I was still drawing a blank, but then it began to come to me.

  “Y…Y…Yuri.” I managed to say, only just hearing the whip he swung at my face in time to move enough it missed my right eye, catching me instead on the cheek hard enough it sent me rolling.