Silent Ground: Part 1

by Quil Carter

  Sasha closed his eyes and waited for the throbbing to dissipate. He moved his tongue along his mouth to collect the stray blood, and swallowed it as well.

  But as the minutes ticked on, the pulsing pain didn’t disappear. Sasha opened his eyes and checked the clock, and felt a sense of dread when he realized that fifteen minutes had passed and the pain was still there. It had lessened, but if you put it on a scale it was now at a seven and a half instead of an eight.

  Sasha looked down at his arm, a towel pressed against the wound. He put his arm up to his mouth and began sucking the blood out, his mind telling him that perhaps it wasn’t enough, maybe he needed more.

  No… that wasn’t it. He’d had enough in his glass and all of the other times it had worked. Why the fuck wasn’t it working now?

  Was this it? His little trick that he was so proud of learning, now didn’t work? The thought of it, that he was in for a lifetime of these debilitating migraines, brought wetness to the corners of Sasha’s eyes, and a lump in his throat that seemed to block off his air. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Besides writhe in pain for the next twelve hours until he either fell asleep or drank enough alcohol to have him pass out.

  ‘They didn’t just take your blood…’ the voice in his head said, amusement clear in his tones. ‘They wanted the magic blood… and they wanted the magic cum.’

  Sasha blinked, and looked down at his groin. He was no stranger to taking care of himself, what teenage man was? But he’d never… consumed it afterwards.

  Would it work? If it did, not only would he have another way to be free of the pain… but it would confirm what those two men had been after. It would mean he did have something in his blood to make the headaches go away.

  Headaches that those two suffered from too apparently.

  Sasha sighed. Jobe might be back soon, but he could make it quick. Sasha unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxer briefs. He withdrew his flaccid dick and began playing with it. It began to harden and he closed his eyes.

  True to the masochistic nature of Sasha’s own inner thoughts, the first thing his mind brought up was the empty road on that moonlit night… and the touch of Kel as he pulled it out, just like Sasha had just done.

  But shame took the place of that fleeting sense of arousal. He hated himself for thinking back to that brief touch, but quite frankly, it was the first time he’d ever been touched by someone. He was a virgin, and he hadn’t done anything with anyone, not even a kiss or a held hand.

  Instead of thinking of that night, Sasha imagined Legolas from the upcoming movie The Lord of the Rings. The movie wasn’t out yet, but he’d found a picture of him in a magazine and had wholeheartedly approved.

  Sasha separated his legs and ran his hand up and down his shaft. On top of feeling good, it was a distraction from the pain, and usually the endorphins from the orgasm gave you temporary relief from the pain too. So, even if all else fails, it would be a brief respite.

  And it looked like it wasn’t going to take long to summit. Sasha hadn’t taken care of himself since the morning before the big party. There was nothing inside of him that had wanted to do it after that terrifying experience, and really, the only reason he was doing it now was to desperately get rid of the migraine.

  A tingling pleasure began to gather in his groin. Sasha stifled a moan and sped up, his other hand on his forehead gently clawing it, before a finger slipped into his mouth. He bit down on the knuckle and groaned, his hips gently rising and falling as the tension multiplied.

  Then the finale. Sasha opened his eyes as the orgasm started and lowered his hand, as soon as the first spurt of cum erupted from the head, he slipped his foreskin over it and let the rest collect inside. With the cum trapped and unable to escape, he let the pleasurable pressure claim him, until he was panting and staring up at the wall.

  Before he could even catch his breath, he withdrew the foreskin and began collecting the cum on his fingers. He slipped them into his mouth and began to eat his cum. It wasn’t the greatest of tastes, but Sasha justified that it would be good training for when he eventually did get a real boyfriend.

  Which, in the throes of taking care of himself, was something he desperately wanted, but after the orgasm had faded and the horniness was taken care of, Sasha went back to being terrified at the mere thought.

  Sasha licked all of the cum off of his fingers and let out a breath through his nose. The headache was still drilling a hole in his head, the endorphins seeming to disappear as quickly as they came. Like Sasha had before, he ended up laying down on his bed and waiting.

  It… seemed to be working. Sasha opened his eyes and checked the clock, ten minutes later and… the edge of it was gone. There was still that dull pressure, but it was definitely improved.

  And by the time Jobe came back, Sasha felt almost… normal.

  So… that’s it then? Cum and blood?

  The men who jumped me… really did want my… my body fluid? Sasha stared at the wall, Jobe was talking to him about something but he didn’t register what it was, he was too perplexed with this fucked up mystery that had been deposited on his lap.

  And no one believed him. They all fucking thought he was crazy, but no, this was real, this had actually happened. Two men wanted his fucking blood and cum, to get rid of the migraines that Sasha himself had been experiencing for the past two years.

  So badly did Sasha want to tell Jobe about his discovery, but the thought of actually doing it was so absurd it was laughable. Hey, Jobe! The men who jumped me were after not just my blood, but my cum too! They get headaches like me, and apparently, I have magic blood-cum powers to get rid of them. Oh, by the way, I found this out because I just ate my own semen like thirty minutes before you came back here.

  Yeah, that would go over real well.

  “How’s your heady-weds, Boogie?” Jobe asked when he came back from the bathroom. He was dressed in a clean grey button-down and blue jeans, and because it was time for work, no black eyeliner.

  “Better actually,” Sasha replied. He beckoned Jobe over and handed him a video game controller. He was worried that if they watched television together that Jobe would end up bringing up things that would cause a fight. “Join me for Smash Bros?”

  “Of course!” Jobe grinned. He did a funny dance over to the couch, which made Sasha roll his eyes, and sat down near enough for their thighs to touch. “I have until five, then more work prep.” He glanced at the clock. It was only noon, there was a lot of time left in the day, and he looked forward to spending it all with Sasha.

  Two hours into Smash Bros, Sasha playing as his prized Pikachu and Jobe as Marth, the telephone rang. Sasha cringed and tried to ignore it, but he could feel Jobe’s eyes on him.

  “That’s Tom, eh?” Jobe said as the phone continued to ring. “Come on, baby, you promised us… you can’t keep ignoring him.” He made a motion to pick up the phone but Sasha held up a hand.

  “I… I said I’d answer it today,” Sasha said.

  Jobe’s eyes rose in surprise, obviously this wasn’t the reaction he thought he’d get. Jobe paused the game and smiled proudly as Sasha got up and picked up the white corded phone that rested by his television.

  “Hello…?” Sasha said. He rolled his eyes and turned from Jobe when his friend gave him a flashy grin followed by two thumbs up, and stared down the hallway.

  “Sasha! Thank you for picking up,” Tom’s cheerful voice said on the other end. There was no bullshitting, no lying saying ‘I wasn’t home’ they knew Sasha never went anywhere. He hadn’t even been outside the house since that night on the road. “How would you like to schedule a meeting for us? I’d like to not only talk, but perhaps discuss some medications that might help you.”

  Sasha paused. The fact that they wanted to medicate him had been a weight on his shoulders since Tom had suggested it, and the realization of what those two men had wanted from him, hammered in the reality that he hadn’t been hallucinating––they existed. Halluci
nations didn’t have information that Sasha himself didn’t have. He’d just found out that the cum worked too, Kel and Kheva knew it beforehand.

  So, he wasn’t crazy.

  “I… don’t want anti-psychotics,” Sasha said, so quietly he was mumbling it. “But… like anti-depressants, maybe? I… I wouldn’t mind some of those.”

  Tom returned the silence before he seemed to snap himself back into cheery mode. “Well, that’s something we can discuss, Sasha. We won’t give you anything you don’t want to take, but perhaps after our conversation, you may see it differently. Either way… how about Friday evening at six? I’ll be out of my office then and I can come right to your door.”

  “Okay,” Sasha said quietly. Today was Wednesday, so it would give him enough time to mentally prepare himself. “I’ll be here.”

  After an exchange of goodbyes, Sasha hung up the phone. He turned around with his mouth pursed to the side and ignored Jobe’s proud look. Jobe was smart enough to stay silent, and soon they were back to playing Smash Bros.

  A couple more hours passed until lunch time. Sasha dished them both up canned ravioli, swimming in ‘flavour snow’ which was Sashanese for parmesan cheese. They then sat down on the couch with the television on, and ate.

  But though the day had been going well, Sasha was dismayed to feel the warning twinges of pain in his head. He hoped that they would eventually go away. Maybe it was just from staring at the television for the past several hours? But something told him that he wouldn’t be that lucky.

  “The headaches coming back?” Jobe asked. He picked up Sasha’s bowl when he was done and put it into the sink. “What did you take before to help it?”

  If Sasha wasn’t in so much pain he would’ve smirked at this. The expression on Jobe’s face if he’d told him it was his cum would be an interesting one.

  “It just went away on its own…” Sasha lied. He rubbed his head and frowned, before curling up on the couch with his knees tucked up to his chest. “It’s giving me warning pangs… it’ll be getting worse before it gets better now.”

  “Poor Boogie,” Jobe murmured. “Well, at least I need to bugger off soon, so you can lay in some darkness and no one else will harass you. Can I come over after work and sleep beside you again?”

  Sasha mulled this over. Jobe knew when to be quiet, and it had been kind of nice to wake up to him being there. So, he nodded, which seemed to make Jobe happy. They turned back to the television after that, but Sasha was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. The headache was refusing to disappear, and once it was time for Jobe to get ready for work, Sasha had the living room lights and the television turned off.

  “Okay, I’m off to work.” Sasha felt Jobe lay a hand on his head. “I’ll bring you back some Percocets. At least if those don’t work, they’ll knock you out pretty good.”

  Sasha nodded and gave Jobe a sad whimper. He was in enough of a rotten state that he wasn’t above receiving sympathy. Jobe clucked his tongue and kissed Sasha’s head. “I’ll be back soon.” And after that he was gone.

  Then Sasha was alone in his misery. He got up five minutes after Jobe left and locked the door, then retreated to his bedroom to try and get some relief from the migraine. It was hard getting aroused when your head was trying to split in half, but Sasha managed. When the last spurt was ejaculated, he brought the semen to his mouth and ate it.

  “My future boyfriend better appreciate this training,” Sasha mumbled, a grimace on his face. He buried himself into his blankets and closed his eyes.

  But nothing happened.

  Fucking nothing happened.

  This time there was no relief, not even a small edge being taken off of it. The relentless pain continued its on-going assault on Sasha’s head, like a dozen nails had been poked through the thin membrane that separated skull from brain and were being hammered in one after another.

  What the fuck? Sasha felt the corners of his eyes become wet. The tears weren’t of sadness, but of desperation and fear. Two years of being able to deal with these headaches one way or another, and now was the day that his newest trick stopped working.

  “Fuck!” Sasha cried. He grasped his short black hair and pulled on it. Then, unable to get comfortable in his bed, he got up and started pacing his small apartment.

  What now? What fucking now? With each passing minute, the desperation grew inside of him. It was like a drug addict realizing that his choice drug no longer worked on him, except Sasha wasn’t looking for a fucking high… he just wanted the pain to go away.

  This is bad, this is really bad… Sasha walked from one end of the suite to the other, his hands travelling from his head to his sides as he tried to figure out what to do.

  Soon he was back in his bedroom. Sasha held the razor blade to his stitched wound and cut out two more of the sutures. Then he sliced the two pieces of healing skin apart, and dug the blade into the flesh until the blood was an acceptable flow.

  He held his arm over the glass, his face twisted in desperation. With a lump in his throat that was only growing larger, Sasha watched the blood drip into the glass, the intense pain driving him to squeeze and dig his fingernails into the wound.

  Other pain helped, it always had. Sasha pushed the edge of the razor blade into his arm and a second cut was created. He licked the blood of that wound with his tongue, and gave his arm another squeeze.

  By the time he could convince himself that he had enough blood, Sasha was feeling lightheaded. He downed the glass, his taste buds now craving the iron-copper taste, and hoped beyond hope that it would work.

  Sasha locked his hands around the back of his neck and let out a whine. Desperation was no longer the driving force behind his actions, it was now fear. The pain was becoming unbearable and there was nothing he could do about it––except go to the hospital.

  What would’ve been an outlandish idea when he woke up this morning, was quickly becoming something he was considering. Nothing was working, his tricks weren’t working, Tylenol never worked, or Advil. What were his choices?

  Sasha retreated to his bed once again, and with his eyes shut tight, he curled himself up into a tight ball. It was quiet in his bedroom, and dark, but that did little to help. Nothing was easing the relentless pain, the constant hammering of what felt like a diamond-coated mallet being smashed against the soft pink organ, again and again and again.

  There was no relief, even after the excess of blood he had consumed, there was no relief.

  Sasha knew that he was going to have to call the hospital. There had to be something wrong with him, something that the scans would finally find. If it was a tumor––Fuck, at least they would take him seriously. At least he would be able to get help.

  An hour later, Sasha rose from bed to pee. He navigated in the dark, then walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. The fridge light blinded him and his eyes squinted as the unwelcome light stabbed his head like small needles, but dehydration would only make it worse. He drank down the water, then swallowed five Tylenol, even though he knew it wasn’t going to help.

  But on the way back to his bedroom, to curl up and hopefully die, he stopped. The bedroom almost seemed like a torture chamber now, someplace awful that would only make him worse. So instead of returning to his bedroom, Sasha instead laid down on his couch and closed his eyes.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

  Sasha’s eyes snapped open, just as a jolt of anxiety shot through his body. Who could that be? Did… Uncle Lex lock himself out by accident? If it was Jobe and he’d forgotten something, he would’ve used his key…

  Cautiously, Sasha rose from the couch and walked to the entrance door in the kitchen.

  He extended his hand towards the knob, then paused.

  “Who is it?” Sasha asked cautiously.

  There was no answer… but another knock followed.

  Sasha hesitated. He never answered the door unless he knew who it was, and because his entrance was at the back of the house fac
ing the backyard, it was extremely rare that he’d get random visitors.

  A third knock, this one loud enough for Sasha’s head to give a throb of protest. He held his hand to his forehead and whined. “Who’s there?” he asked loudly, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

  What if…

  No, no they didn’t know where he lived.

  ‘You can do it,’ the voice inside of his head said quietly. Oddly, he didn’t sound angry, more encouraging. ‘Answer the door.’

  Sasha swallowed hard and nodded. If anything, the knocks that were making his migraine worse would stop. And, fuck, they didn’t know where he lived…

  They didn’t know where he lived.

  Sasha unlocked the door, and opened it.

  There was no one there… only a dark backyard and the silhouette of a fence.

  Sasha looked around the yard, before his eyes travelled down to his entrance mat.

  And those eyes widened.

  Sitting on top of the mat, was a small metal vial with a stopper in it.

  Sasha’s brow furrowed. He picked up the bottle and kept sweeping the yard with his gaze. “Hello?” he called. “Hell-” His head snapped to the left when he saw a blur of movement, before the person disappeared behind the corner of the house.

  Before he could convince himself it was a stupid idea, he ran after the mysterious figure. He turned the corner, just in time to see someone dressed in black robes disappear to the front. Sasha skidded to a stop, his heart jumping to his throat where it began to beat wildly.

  They knew where he fucking lived! Sasha turned from the concrete walkway that wrapped around Lex’s house, and ran back to his apartment, vial in hand.

  But as he ran towards the door, he saw that there was a folded-up piece of paper wedged into the hinges of his door. Sasha grabbed it, ran inside, then slammed the door and locked it behind him.

  They know where I live, they fucking know where I live!