Monsters

by Rob Knight editor

  Frustrated and angry, he throws down the bone and attacks the hedge with his hands. Smaller thorns tear at his skin. He bleeds. His blood smears the barrier. And the barrier awakens. The branches of the hedge whip about, trying to impale him as he grabs the thighbone and fights for his life. He cracks a thorn and it hangs limply. Taking up the thorn, he rams it into the hedge. As he does, a last tendril flails about him, piercing his side. He drops the thorn and presses his hand to his side. Pain unlike any he has known before racks his body. A scream tears itself from his throat leaving it raw. And yet he tries to scream again. He is being immolated from within. But something else is happening. The barrier is dissolving.

  All around him bones drop with a sickening thud or a jarring jangle as the hedge shrivels away to dust until nothing is left of the barrier but the thorn that is lodged in his body. Dizzy with pain, he retches and wipes his mouth, sits hard upon the ground. There, up ahead, is the entrance to the courtyard.

  Body aching, head aching, he stands, sways, and walks towards the arch in the wall.

  *** There are times with Daniel when Ian feels that his heart will break, he's so happy. To be happy again... For years he thought it would never happen, yet here he is, smiling, laughing, being part of a pair. A mated pair. There is no doubt in his mind that they are life mates. At least Daniel believes them to be. And they can be. If only he gives Daniel the gift. One bite and Daniel would be his forever. But would Daniel curse Ian for his immortality or thank him? He does not know and it frightens him, his ignorance. It stays his hand when he would have Daniel for his own for an eternity. He would not have Daniel change. His innocence is what drew him to Daniel in the first place. To see the light in Daniel's eyes fade, to know that in his heart he would die if he could, to watch him falter under the weight of immortality, Ian does not want that. He knows the burden of years, but maybe it would be different with the two of them. Maybe they would find a way to escape the malaise of the soul that immortality engenders. Still, there is the possibility of death. They are not invincible. And to leave one behind pining for the other, would that not be the cruelest act of all?

  *** Daniel's skin and hair are silk. Ian runs his hands over and through them, fingers tingling. Daniel's scent intoxicates, a heady mixture of all that is youthful desire. Ian can smell Daniel's sweat, traces of urine, even the precome that bubbles from Daniel's cock. Smells them just before he tastes them, along with saliva and tears as he licks Daniel's face, mauls his lips, and sucks his dick.

  The sound of Daniel's moaning makes him teeter close to the edge, but he draws back, reins in his excitement, and concentrates on pleasuring Daniel even more. Daniel vibrates beneath him as they fuck. Ian stares into his eyes, communicating his need and Daniel groans.

  "Come... come... come," he says, but Ian buries his face in Daniel's neck and continues to pump. His hips move with the rhythm of his heart. He opens his mouth around Daniel's throat and sucks his flesh. Yes, yes, yes. The vein in Daniel's neck throbs and he adjusts his pacing to keep in time. Come, come, come, the vein calls. His tongue presses against the vein. Take me, it says. His canines lengthen. His eyes roll back in his head. The blood, the blood calls and he will answer. All he has to do is bite down.

  "Hmm," Daniel says in a voice hoarsened by sex, "are you biting me?" He laughs lustily. "Kinky." He tightens his grip on Ian and raises his hips to meet each thrust. Horrified, Ian pulls away, but not before he comes, his body bucking against Daniel's, caught in an orgasm so powerful that it drains him of all strength. Daniel shouts and climaxes as well, thighs gripping his sides, holding him in place, keeping him hard inside Daniel's ass until he slumps onto the bed, spent as well. Ian hides his face in Daniel's neck, tears trickling down his skin.

  While Daniel slumbers, he paces in front of the window under the moon's careless eye. He almost bit Daniel tonight, almost succumbed to the need that is ever present. He shivers, not from his nakedness, but from the realization that he almost committed an irrevocable act. Once bitten, Daniel would begin to change internally until he too was a... what? Lycanthrope? Shapeshifter? Werewolf? Ian supposes, as he has over the years, that it no longer matters what labels are affixed. The fact remains he is a monster, an aberration. And he very nearly consigned Daniel to that fate tonight. Without giving Daniel a choice. But what choice had they been given? None.

  Which one of them would have chosen this life? To be driven from the wild, from their home, to wander about the human world, always afraid, always a stranger. There are so few of his kind left now, none of his family remains. When the last of them is gone from the earth, who will miss them? And never, never once has he come close to understanding how it happened it in the first place and why. Why them? What purpose this curse? To forever live on the fringe of human society, never fully a part of their triumphs, their losses, always an impassive observer.

  A few of them risked much and brought new members into the fold but at a cost. The humans, almost invariably, went mad, giving rise to the werewolf legends. Mistakes, born of desperation and loneliness and the desire to touch something, someone. He hides his face from the moon.

  Yet another reason to let Daniel go before temptation overwhelms him. But how to let go when he feels Daniel inside him, coursing through his veins? The agony, the pain of separation... How? But if he does not, how to explain what he is?

  He watches as his nails lengthen to claws.

  He knows what he is.

  He closes his hand and blood wells up where his claws pierce the skin.

  A monster. ***

  "I...I can't see you anymore." Daniel laughs at first because he can't believe for a moment that Ian is serious. After all, they love each other. More than that, he has never felt closer to anyone in his life. He feels bonded to Ian in a way that both frightens and comforts him. "Are you high?" He knows Ian smokes pot, who doesn't? But he's never seen his lover like this.

  "I need you to go." "I just fuckin' got here and I'm not going anywhere until you explain what you're talking about."

  "Believe me, it's better this way." Daniel grabs Ian's arm and shakes him even though Ian towers over him and outweighs him by twenty pounds or more. "Don't hand me fuckin' clichés and expect me to accept them! Talk to me, goddamn it." His fear makes him tremble. Ian can't be serious. What would he do?

  "It would be easier if you did." "Fuck easy!" He backs away from Ian, suddenly unsure of himself, suddenly wanting to run from the loft but he can't, he has to see this through. Because if they're through, if it's over for them, then there'll be time enough to run, there'll be nothing but time. He tries another tact, softens his voice and strokes Ian's bare arm. "Ian, please, I don't understand. What did I do?"

  "It's not you. It's me." Ian gives a half-hearted smile, aware that he has offered yet another cliché. "I can't explain it any better."

  "I love you and I thought you loved me."

  Ian hesitates, then says softly, "I do."

  "Then why? Why would you tell me to go?"

  "Because you have to. For both of us." A tear rolls down Ian's cheek. "Please, Daniel. Just go." "I won't," he says obstinately. "I won't leave you like this." He's concerned for Ian, something's wrong, something more than what Ian's telling him even though that's enough. If Ian is feeling one tenth of what he's feeling, he's in agony.

  "We can't be together," Ian explains as tears continue to flow. "I was wrong to ever start this. I was wrong," he whispers. "I want you to go now." Ian walks past Daniel and stands with his back to Daniel. "Just go." Daniel picks up a CD from Ian's desk. He left it here last week. When he was happy, when life made sense. He pauses before drawing open the door. "I will never forgive you for this," he says, and then the door slides close and he's gone.

  Outside Ian's building, Daniel leans against a column and cries, forehead pressed against brick, scraping his skin, but he doesn't care.

  He'll never care about anything again. *** His side throbbing, he stumbles through the abandoned courtyard and in
to the castle half expecting to see sleeping courtiers and maids. But it's empty. Nothing stirs, not even the dust on the furniture. He makes his way to the side of the fortress where the tower stands and begins the long climb to the top, stopping several times to catch his breath. Inexplicably, the stairway seems much higher than the tower had appeared to be from outside. A paradox. At last he reaches the top. A door confronts him. On the other side, his wishes fulfilled. Or so he thinks. He holds out his hand to push the door open and hears a low growl. His heart begins to pound. He knows it is no dog on the other side. Already he can see the hazel eyes staring back at him even before he pushes open the door. There, standing just across the threshold, is the wolf from the woods.

  *** Daniel has taken to following Ian. Discreetly at a distance. When Ian goes to Club Inferno, he goes too, hiding in corners, fending off would-be suitors. When Ian eats in the diner with his friends, Daniel stares from across the street, ignoring his grumbling stomach and his troubling thoughts. If he could hate Ian, that would make things tolerable, but he doesn't hate Ian. God save him, he loves Ian no less than he did before their split.

  He feels crazy, stalking Ian like this, but he can't help it. He loves Ian and he knows Ian loves him. If he had any doubts, he'd give up, lick his wounds, and regroup. But knowing that Ian's probably dying inside, too, he can't retreat. Not yet. Even if he ends up riding to his own Little Big Horn. He can't give up on Ian. His heart won't allow it.

  More than once he was tempted to call Ian just to hear Ian's voice, but he didn't. He would respect Ian's wish not to see him anymore. And, he admits to himself, it would have been too hard, not hearing Ian say he loved him even though he knows Ian does. That hasn't changed. Ian isn't happy, he can see it in the set of his shoulders each time he prepares to go into the diner and face the crowd, see it in the listless way he dances at Club Inferno, hear it in the heaviness of his steps as he returns home. Alone. If only he would reach out to Daniel, take him into his confidence, share his troubles. But he won't. He decided to go it alone. Only he isn't. Daniel vows to be there if Ian ever needs him. And he waits, keeping his secret vigil.

  *** Tonight marks the worst state he's been in since Daniel left. Since he told Daniel to leave. Since Daniel told him in parting that he would never forgive Ian for destroying their relationship. He came home tonight and immediately wanted to rake his skin off with a dull fork.

  Now he stalks shadows across the floor. Twitching. Every inch of him seething. His veins are rivers of fire. He would hop in the car and drive to the country and run, but he knows that won't satisfy him. Not tonight. Tonight nothing will do but flesh and bone. And blood. He goes to the door and stops. Shaking. He is about to commit murder, him, a civilized man. The thought makes him laugh and he does, hysterically, until the sound begins to frighten him and he stifles it. A howl escapes his lips and he croons to the unseen moon. So hard to fight it, to resist the call. He bangs on the door with his fist, hoping to dispel his need to feed. Lays his head against the cool metal. "No," he whispers. "Please." But his blood boils and he rakes his claws across the surface of the door, scarring it. "Daniel," he cries softly. "Help me." But Daniel isn't here. Ian sent him away.

  *** Standing in the shadows across the street, Daniel watches as Ian leaves his building. Although Ian seems to be in a hurry, he doesn't take his car, walks instead. Daniel follows a safe distance back, he hopes, as the street has some foot traffic, but not enough to hide him should Ian decide to turn around.

  After a trek of no few blocks, Daniel realizes they are in the warehouse district. Winded, he rests while Ian appears to be in the throes of indecision. Why is he here? Ian takes up a position near one of the warehouses and within minutes a man approaches him. They talk briefly, then money changes hands. Daniel can't believe that Ian has just paid to have sex. They walk off together. Stomach churning, Daniel pauses, then goes after them. He's committed himself to this venture thus far, there's no turning back now.

  The guy guides Ian to an abandoned building and leads him inside. After a beat, Daniel follows. He hears them as they go deeper into the bowels of the building. Finally their footsteps fall silent. Carefully he continues down a hallway, unsure of where they are, and hoping he can find a place to hide before they discover him. One makes some kind of noise and he spots them. Luckily for him, there are a number of old crates piled up all around the room they're in. He eases behind a stack and peeps through the spaces between the slates.

  Ian is leaning against a wall, the guy on his knees sucking him off. Although it hurts him to watch, he doesn't look away. Not even when Ian begins running his hands through the guy's hair, something he always did when Daniel gave him a blow job. Ian moans and his hands slip to the hustler's shoulders. He grips him. Hard. Daniel can tell by the way the man flinches. But Ian doesn't relax his grip. Instead, it seems to Daniel, that he increases the pressure. The guy really begins to fidget and reaches up to push Ian's hands away. And that's when he realizes something is wrong. When they both do.

  The hustler pulls off of Ian's dick and screams. Ian's fingers have gone through the hustler's skin, sliced through muscle. Blood pours down his shoulders. Ian raises him up, his fingers hooked under the man's bones. As the trick continues to scream, Ian opens his mouth. Even from where he is, Daniel can see that his teeth have changed. Longer, wicked-looking. Ian's tongue is long and red and it slips out and licks the man's face before Ian clamps down on his neck and rips his throat out. Blood sprays from the wound, striking Ian and the wall behind him.

  Daniel squeezes his eyes shut but he can't stop himself from hearing the gurgling sound of a man dying, the rending sound of Ian's teeth decimating flesh. On trembling legs he eases from his hiding place and runs as softly as he can. Outside, he doesn't stop running until he's out of the warehouse district and then he stops and throws up. When his stomach is empty, he begins running again.

  He doesn't think he'll ever stop.

  When he reaches his apartment, he dashes inside and locks the door, turning the deadbolt and securing the chain as well, something he never does. He slides down to the floor, crying. "Ian," he moans. "Oh God."

  What is he? "It can't be. It can't be..." he says over and over again.

  Werewolves don't exist.

  *** At first the wolf is so still he thinks perhaps it might be a statue or under an enchanted sleep after all. But then, slowly, the wolf advances. His heart races. Under normal circumstances he would be no match for a wolf, but weakened by his battle with the hedge and by the thorn in his side, he knows the wolf will make quick work of him. A tear slides down his cheek. To have come so far and fought so hard only for it to end this way. So close to his goal and yet so far. Where is the sleeping prince awaiting his kiss? Has the wolf already killed him? Or is the wolf the final test?

  The wolf continues to advance.

  He has no weapon, having left the thighbone outside the fortress. There are no swords hanging conveniently nearby, no mace, no battle axe. All that he has are his hands.

  And the thorn in his side.

  Gripping the thorn in his fingers, he grits his teeth and pulls. Pain. If he had known it would hurt so much, he doubts he would have attempted this. White hot flashes of light blind him as he yells and removes the thorn. Just as he does, the wolf leaps. He rams the thorn into the wolf's chest, feels it sink into the wolf's flesh, parting it. The wolf yelps in pain and falls.

  Leaning against the doorframe, he tries to catch his breath. He feels his side. Miraculously, the wound has healed. It's over. He closes his eyes in relief. He's slain the monster. Now it's time to awaken his prince. If he can find him.

  A noise causes him to open his eyes. It is coming from the wolf. His limbs scrabble on the floor before falling still. Forever. And then it happens. The wolf begins to change until a man lies in its place.

  A beautiful, chestnut haired man with hazel eyes and raspberry lips. "No!" he yells as he awakens. "No." Rubs his face. Begins to weep. No.


  ***

  He came to himself, crouched over a rapidly cooling body, slobbering, clothes drenched in blood, shredded flesh caught in his claws and teeth.

  Even now the memory makes him shudder. He changed and made his way home, hoping no one would look too closely and realize that he wasn't a stray German Shepherd. He resumed his human form in the alley next to his building and rushed inside, ran up the stairs and into the safety of his home.

  Showering until the water ran cold didn't remove the stench from his skin. He can still smell death on his hands.

  Death. That's who he is. Death.

  And he can never touch Daniel again. Never. Silken skin to be ripped by claws. He can't. Can't. Can't touch. Curled in a ball on his bed, he weeps.

  Then someone knocks on the door. Wiping his face, he sits on the edge of the bed and wonders if they'll leave.

  They knock again. Then he hears, "Ian..."

  Daniel. He rises. Crosses the floor and stands with his palm pressed to the door. The best thing he can do is to not answer, to let Daniel escape again. Safe. As he starts to turn back, he hears Daniel speak again.

  "I saw you."

  Three tiny words, but upon them the world pivots. *** The door opens and Daniel sees him. If he expected some change, some difference in Ian that would make him love Ian any less, he's disappointed. Even his memories of the previous night cannot erase the love he has for Ian. He comes in and, although his love is intact, he can't help but jump when the door closes. He remembers what Ian did to that man. Doesn't think he'll ever forget. He takes a seat, perches on the edge.

  "You're afraid of me now," Ian says resignedly.

  "I saw you... rip a man's throat out. With your teeth. With..." Daniel starts shaking and grips the arm of the chair to steady himself.