Master: Crimson

by Jane Bled

  “What’s with you?” Ken demanded, waving a pair of chopsticks under his nose. Gabriel’s expression dampened like a wet diaper.

  “You know I don’t eat rice.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I discovered that carbohydrates are the ultimate enemy. They’re the reason why my body fat percentage isn’t at its optimum low.”

  “Gabe, if you lost any more body fat, you wouldn’t be human anymore.”

  Too late, my friend. “Thank you, but I don’t want the rice.”

  “Eat it,” Ken insisted. He swept up a giant clump and held it near the actor’s tightened mouth.

  “I really, really don’t want it,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth. The smell of the rice was so obnoxious, he felt practically suicidal. Since the change, all foods had undertaken an unpleasant odor, but for some reason, this particular combination of starch, pork, and grease was the worst yet.

  “Eat it now.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not going to eat it.”

  “Don’t make me force-feed you,” Ken warned, dangling the rice precariously closer to Gabriel’s unwilling orifice.

  “Get it away from me!” he yelled, walking rapidly to the other side of the studio. His best friend, however, followed him across the room, rice still hanging dangerously from the chopsticks.

  “C’mon, Gabey-baby, open up for the choo-choo!”

  “Fuck the choo-choo!” he bellowed.

  Ken just laughed at him, green eyes crinkling. “My, aren’t we in a fine mood today? What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m just not hungry, okay?”

  “Your loss!” Ken conceded. He gobbled up the mouthful of rice he had intended upon feeding to Gabriel.

  When he finished chewing, the curly-haired man regarded him with a more serious expression than he had donned in weeks. Fabulous, he‘s going to interrogate me. Just what I need to brighten up the day.

  “Joe told me about your tendency to upchuck these days. I thought you had conquered your eating disorder.”

  Ken’s comment stung, because Gabriel actually HAD kicked his bulimia. Not like it mattered anymore, since according to Raiden, no matter how much blood he drank, he‘d still remain the same weight. Though, when he looked at the big picture, he could only consider that as the most trivial of perks.

  “I did conquer it! I’ve just been under the weather. In all likelihood, I ate something that didn’t agree with my chronically sensitive digestive system.”

  “What, like Raiden’s jizz?”

  Gabriel expelled his breath quite harshly, nearly blowing Ken’s bangs off his forehead. “If you don’t want me to spew projectile vomit all over your face, you’ll never say anything that disgusting to me ever again.”

  Fucking hypocrite, the gleeful Raiden-demon chirped inside his head. For once, the actor had to agree with him. Apparently, so did Ken.

  “Spare me! Like I’m supposed to think the idea of your lips attached to Raiden’s cock is so far-fetched? Gabe, please! Your mouth opens wider than a nutcracker‘s.”

  “I have standards.”

  Ken cackled, patting his arm with infuriating condescension. “Yeah, standards that Raiden far surpasses. He might be a jerk, but he’s a moving work of art. If you like that wispy type—”

  Gabriel held up his hand to protest, with no success.

  “—Which you do. And now you’re staying at his house, Gabe—his place of residence, where there are beds and couches and chairs and all other sorts of miscellaneous furniture— and you expect me to believe that the two of you are spending all those nights together baking cupcakes and rehearsing lines? I don’t think so, Gabe-baby. Not to MENTION the fact that you’ve ALWAYS had, like, a massive crush on the man. So if you expect me to believe that you’re not still interested in him, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I‘m not fooled.”

  Feebly, Gabriel struggled to devise a rebuttal. “Well, regardless of what you think you may know, it’s not like that at all. We‘ve simply been pouring all of our efforts into rehearsing for the movie. When Raiden read the script, he agreed it would be best for us to live together for a while, so the audience will actually believe that our on-screen bond is genuine.”

  The scent of his lie was positively fecal; judging by the look on Ken’s face, he had gotten a good whiff of his bullshit. All the same, Gabriel could not—would not—reveal his secret life. He didn’t want to frighten the other actor away; or worse, expose himself as the monster he was becoming.

  “Gabe, you’re not telling me the truth.”

  He couldn’t even respond. It was easy to fool strangers, the public, and even members of his own family, but Ken was his best friend, his confidante, his brother. They had lived together for years; they knew each other better than they knew themselves. The whole situation was shockingly unfair.

  “You’ve always said you’d never lie to me.”

  Gabriel hung his head in guilt. His guts ached to be spilled, but the image of Raiden’s face held them in. It was absolutely insane to think that Raiden, the cause of all his misery, could hold such sway over him. The power the older vampire possessed over him was nothing short of extraordinary. Raiden, the pale demon. Raiden, the dark angel. Raiden, his undead chaperon of survival. Had his hardened heart strings left to pull, Gabriel would have become completely unraveled by the mere sight of his maker’s face.

  “So today, when I accidentally walked in on you holding—”

  “Stop! We don’t speak of such things,” Gabriel babbled, blanching a shade paler than white. The cat’s out of the bag now. Ken took one look at him and exploded into laughter.

  “Aha! I knew it! Gabey-baby’s falling in love!”

  Ken grabbed his hands and twirled him around in circles. Infected by Ken’s puckish glee, he allowed himself to be whirled around the room, snickering rather breathlessly as the walls spun around him.

  “You‘re a total chump!”

  “True. But at least I’m not masturbating to pictures of my co-star!”

  “Well, neither am I, since you so rudely interrupted me.”

  Ken giggled obnoxiously for a good minute; then playfully tackled Gabriel to the ground, teasing and tickling him until he almost forgot that he was no longer human. Almost. But then, the sight of his best friend’s flushed face, the increased beating of his heart, and the unmistakable warmth of his blood-filled body swept the vampire back to reality. He hurriedly scrambled away from Ken, ignoring his confused stare, and produced a cigarette from his pocket. Anything to keep his thoughts away from feeding off his best friend.

  “You’re moodier than a girl. Won’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

  The genuine worry in Ken’s eyes caused a twisting sensation in Gabriel’s chest. Believe me, I would if I could. “I can’t.”

  “Gabe, you can tell me anything.”

  “I’m just…not myself lately. I’ve been doing these really—horrible things…” Gabriel trailed off, scorning himself for having revealed even the vaguest detail.

  “Like what?”

  “Like…going to bed without brushing my teeth,” Gabriel lied. “I mean, it’s unhygienic, Ken. It’s revolting. I am a disgusting creature.”

  The curly-haired man burst into laughter.

  “And here I thought you were about to confess you’d started going on nightly killing sprees, or worse, stealing from your charities.”

  Well, they’re more tri-weekly than nightly, but close enough. “I don’t sponsor any charities.”

  “Good point.” Ken grabbed the container of fried rice and resumed his eager consumption of it.

  Gabriel could tell he was enjoying the food. Not wanting to subject himself to more extensive questions concerning his own appetite, the vampire grabbed a few cubes of ice from the studio’s mini-freezer and chucked one into his mouth. He crunched on it, grimacing at its complete lack of flavor. If only it were coated with a bit of blood…but that was Raiden
again, chattering incessantly inside his mind like a conscience-less Jiminy Cricket. It was bad enough having to deal with mind-Raiden and real-Raiden on separate occasions, let alone both at the same time.

  As the ice melted into nothingness, he remembered one of the more troubling conversations in which real-Raiden had participated. The reading of the script had been painful, to say the least, but it had been a necessary evil. Of course, what the singer didn’t realize was that Gabriel still had every intention of making the movie, mostly because he was stubborn, but also because he wanted to punish Raiden for having stolen his mortality. Generally, when the actor wanted something, he got it, so he really wasn’t too concerned about convincing the older vampire to see his point of view. Coercing people had always been one of his specialties, and despite the recent events, Gabriel still felt confident he could eventually persuade him. For the time being, however, he had decided to play it slick.

  “Now that we’ve finally read the whole script together, let‘s practice it,” Gabriel declared. He smoothed down invisible creases in his pants. Predictably, Raiden’s eyes followed the motion.

  “I think I've had enough 'practice' for one day, thank you very much,” Raiden snorted, flinging the script into a far corner of the room. Gabriel patiently retrieved it.

  “There's absolutely no such thing as 'enough practice'.”

  "”When it comes to sex, maybe you've got a point. Otherwise, I'm spent.”

  Raiden stretched his back in a decidedly suggestive manner. The younger vampire swallowed hard.

  “Cheeky devil.”

  “Don't I know it.”

  “Yeah. That's the unbearably annoying part.”

  “Everyone's a critic.”

  “You'd be much more charming if you weren't so full of yourself.”

  “Oh, and you're supposed to be so humble?” Raiden shot back. He moved from the bed to a standing position so quickly, even Gabriel’s vampiric eyes could barely detect the transition.

  “I’m only humbled when in the presence of greatness.”

  “Bow down, then,” the singer suggested, gesturing to the space in front of his feet with a positively haughty expression.

  “You wish,” Gabriel sneered. He stood tall, towering over his maker.

  “Don’t you know that disobeying your master will surely lead to your demise?” Raiden mocked, sharp edges seeping into his voice.

  Gabriel, however, was not intimidated. Regardless of what you think, I am my own master. “I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid to live.”

  Raiden groaned at Gabriel‘s schmaltzy assertion. “Now THAT is the number one lamest thing to ever come out of your mouth, with the very small exception of Backseat Boy’s ickle purple-headed womb broom. Unfortunate bastard! You probably did him a favor, killing him off like that. Now he won’t have to face the eternal shame and miserable damnation of having been born with a vertically-challenged pecker.”

  Ignoring Raiden’s caustic comments, Gabriel briefly entertained the notion of biting him in the exact same spot where he had bitten the boy. Something told him, however, that he wanted to bite his maker’s thigh for entirely different reasons. Grinning lecherously, he rumpled the singer’s hair. “Sounds like you know exactly how that feels, Raiden.”

  “Mongoloid,” Raiden spat, grabbing his wrist to still his progress.

  “Classy, Raiden. Real classy. It’s okay; I understand it’s probably embarrassing for you to admit that your three-inch tool perpetuates a long-held stereotype. You know, the one about Japanese men having small—”

  The older vampire brought Gabriel’s arms behind his back so quickly, his bones would have surely broken but for their vampirish resistance. Damnit, I have to learn how he does that. He growled, exposing his incisors as Raiden continued to disable him.

  Suddenly, the singer laughed. “And just what makes you the authority on the size of my penis? The last time I checked, I was the one who saw you naked.”

  The actor tittered, completely unashamed of his endowments. His figure was perfectly sculpted, well-developed in all areas. At this moment, however, Gabriel’s sleek form was forced too closely to Raiden’s warmth, and he feared it would betray him.

  On impulse, he leaned into his maker’s ear, making sure to speak very clearly. “Then all the more reason for you to hide behind false bravado and blatant swaggering. You obviously want to conceal that fact that you’re too short to shop in the Men’s Department, if you know what I mean.”

  Too late, he realized that his unexpected arousal was pressing against Raiden’s stomach. Everything seemed to pause, and he exhaled painfully into the older vampire’s ear, unable to move at the feel of too many pleasurable sensations coursing through his nerve-endings. Raiden broke the pause; slyly peering into his reddening face. “If you wanted to see my goods, Gabriel, all you had to do was ask. At least that would have been a more dignified way to show me your interest rather than loudly carrying on about my size. If you know what I mean.” With that, Raiden emancipated him at last, walking over to the window, disguising his expression.

  Gabriel was certain, however, that he had felt the singer’s length stirring quite close to his own just before their bodies had parted. Raiden’s physical reaction had been much more sizeable than he would have imagined for such a diminutive man. That night on the boat, he had felt Raiden grinding against him, but that had occurred during the heat of bloodlust; his recollection of the sensation was foggy at best. He had speculated about his maker’s size more than he cared to admit. Well, well. It appears that we might have more in common than I had initially suspected. Now I know for certain that he fancies me, I’ll just have to convince him to go through with this damned movie. All things considered, Gabriel felt confident that he would succeed.

  * * * *

  An hour later, after having bid Ken farewell, Gabriel closed the door to the studio and locked it. He made his way over to the swivel chair and slumped in it heavily, exhausted yet strangely exhilarated. Somehow, he had managed to avoid telling his best friend the truth. It was a sign that maybe he could be okay, maybe he could hack it. Perhaps he could even get his life back, return to some sense of normalcy, and regain his lost self. Are you fucking kidding me? Raiden’s voice whispered to his tortured mind. You’ll never get it back. The only way to stay alive is to take life. Once a killer, always a killer. You can’t run from that.

  No, the actor thought, heatedly grabbing the Raiden-tainted magazine and tearing it into a thousand angry pieces. I sure as hell can’t. He knew something momentous was occurring, though its scale was nearly impossible to gauge. This time, when he felt that familiar fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach, he endeavored to kill it, but failed. He had recently learned that specific internal twinges signified impending urges for both blood and sex. At this point, ignoring his instinct was next to impossible. For days he had been living off it, feeding it, and letting it grow. To ignore it now, to starve it, would be a fatal mistake.

  Though Gabriel couldn’t foresee the future, he knew the road ahead was deviously winding and paved in macabre shadows. He could tell there would be many routes from which to choose, each more twisting and turning than the last. Even though he had now taken victims on several occasions, the fledgling vampire still possessed no clue on how to cope with the suddenness of his transformation. Everything was still raw, fresh with pain and brutal emotion. He longed to sanitize himself, rid himself of the blood-red stains seemingly etched into his skin, but that simply wasn’t possible. After all, Raiden’s voice reasoned, You do what you have to do in order to survive. He was beginning to learn the language of the older vampire’s occultism. The more he grew to understand its meaning, though, the less he was disgusted by it. The tempting tang of salt-tainted blood was enough to humble him, for it was not only his source of food, but also his source of fancy.

  Of course, the fear hadn't gone anywhere, wouldn't go anywhere, but the repulsion had all but vanished. More alarming, however, was th
e subtle lessening of his shame. After the boy's defeat, Gabriel's other victims were beginning to fade from his memory with alarming velocity. Forgetting the faces of the dead was easier than he had ever imagined it to be. Worst of all, he had become a ruthless murderer to selfishly stay alive. Alive, if that's what you could call it. It was actually more like surviving several levels below purgatory. The only two reasons why he no longer resided in the deepest inner circle of hell were attributed to bloodlust and, horrifyingly enough, Raiden.

  Glancing at the pieces of magazine still fluttering to the floor, the actor felt a throb of regret for having destroyed it. That little blond coverboy kept hidden razors in his smile, but Gabriel had always been a sucker for self-destruction. From the way Raiden's eyes would soften at the edges whenever the younger vampire did or said something funny, from the manner in which his eyes roved hungrily over his body when he thought Gabriel wasn‘t paying attention, from all the little clues his maker had given him, Gabriel knew the eventual outcome of their tension would be sexually explosive. Though the idea of philandering with the older vampire repulsed his fading integrity, a thrill of scandalous excitement nevertheless rippled his flesh at the image of their bodies entwining. He would hold off as long as his sanity would prevail, but in the absence of rationality, Gabriel knew their attraction was too powerful, too painful to ignore. Their collision was inevitable.

  “Knock, knock.”

  For the second time that day, he was nearly frightened out of his skin. This time, however, the spook was Raiden.

  “How the fuck did you get in here?” Gabriel demanded, heart racing past the speed of light. He hadn't expected the singer for at least another ten minutes.

  “I have my ways,” Raiden chuckled. He gestured to the now-unlocked door.

  “Shall we dine?” he continued, sharp eyes taking in the sight of his torn-apart face laying in pieces all over the floor. Gabriel didn't even want to guess what his thoughts might be.

  “Don't say a word about that,” the actor warned, grabbing his coat from the chair and following him out the door.