Best Friends...

I hesitated to write this story as I think it may upset some people. In the end, I decided to write it and I hope I got the proper message into it. Please be warned, there are some sexually graphic depictions involved but it was necessary for the emotions of the story to come through...

Best Friends.

"I swear I can hear the crackling sounds of fire directly from the sun," Eric complained in a whiney tone.
"I know what you mean man. It's so hot today," David agreed.
Both boys, age 14, were in their customary Summer wardrobes of faded jean shorts, flip flops and tank top t-shirts. They'd been best friends for as long as they could remember. Eric, pale skinned with bright red hair and matching freckles looking contrast to David who'd grown darkly tanned this Summer with his short, black hair. Eric was as skinny as David wasn't. Ice cream cones in hand, the boys were slowly walking from the corner grocery back to Eric's house. They seemed an unlikely pair but at 14 don't most boys?
"And," Eric continued, "the air is so sticky! Hot and sticky..."
"Kinda like your mom was last night!" David interrupted with a mischievous grin crossing his face.
Eric stopped walking, switched his ice cream cone to the opposite hand then punched David in the shoulder as hard as he could letting a mock offended sound of air rush from his mouth. The boys started laughing that comfortable, automatic laughter that only friends seem to share.
"Anyway," Eric continued after the laughter died," we need to get to a swimming pool is all I'm saying." He glanced at the bubble gum pink and blue treat in his hand before taking a big lick around the dripping sides and over the top.
"Well," David said mid swallow of the chocolate ice cream he'd just eaten, "we could go to the Thompson Center. Maybe Jenny Turner will be there! You remember last year right?" David's eyes grew slightly larger and excited.
"Yeah," Eric blushed a little.
"Yeah," David mocked wiggling his eyebrows. "She came down the water slide and her top fell off right before she landed on you? You had a face full of boobs! Naked boobs!"
Eric sighed, "I remember man, how could I forget? Everyone called her Jenny Titter for the rest of the Summer." He turned his attention to his ice cream which had somehow lost its flavor. His heart seeming to beat a little faster.
"Dude!," David continued waving his arms around excitedly, "I'd be so stoked if I got a face full of naked boobs! You should've asked her to go with you man, seriously. Remember how she just looked at you and said 'oh sorry 'bout that Eric'?"
For some reason, Eric found himself getting angry. "Dude, I remember okay?" his voice was stressed tightly.
"So you wanna go or what?" David asked too deep in the memory of Jenny Turner's chest to notice Eric's tension.
"Yeah at least it'll be cooler than this," Eric spread his arms out over the pavement with his last word. "I'll ask my mom if she'll drive us."
"Oh screw that man," David said flatly. "We can take our bikes, it's not that far. We'll cut through Wilkin's Park at least the trees will give us some shade."
Eric felt a knot in his stomach as he nodded and licked his cone again. The ice cream was melting down his hand as they got to his house. David had spent the night so his bike was already leaned against the garage next to Eric's. The finished eating as David talked in his usual non-stop ranting switching subjects from girls to the movie they went too last week, the upcoming school year and back to girls. Eric felt that familiar guilt tightening his chest as he pretended to be interested.
Why was David so excited about girls? Really, Eric didn't see the appeal. He thought girls were okay but not the way that David did. He must see something that Eric didn't he guessed. David continued talking as they changed into their swim suits in the garage. Eric felt a tingle of excitement standing naked in the hot garage next to David. He liked the way that David looked even if he was a little chubby. His eyes roamed to the tan line at David's waist, blushed and looked away as a rush of shame crept up on him.
It wasn't the first time he'd caught himself looking. What was wrong with him? He scolded himself mentally before pulling his swimsuit on and tossing his jean shorts in the corner by the dryer where the rest of the dirty laundry waited to get washed. Turning around he saw David still wrestling with the tie on his suit. He was still naked but now he was facing Eric and focused on the small knot in the blue strings. He couldn't help himself, Eric let his eyes roam downward as if looking at the swimsuit and looked at David's penis.
A thrill rushed through him making his lower back ache slightly as he looked. He knew he shouldn't but he'd never seen another boys' penis before. It excited him in a way that he'd never thought it would. He wanted to touch it but restrained himself. He raised his vision to see David had stopped fussing with the knot and was looking him directly in the eye questioningly.
"What?" Eric asked impatiently.
"Uh, dude what're you doing?" David said sounding uncomfortable as he stepped into his swimsuit and forced it up over his hips and into place rather hastily.
"Waiting to see if your dumb ass could untie a knot," Eric said angrily to hide his embarrassment.
David seemed to relax accepting Eric's explanation as he picked up his own shirt and pulled it on too.
"Oh," he replied quietly.
For a few awkward moments they stood quietly in the garage the only sounds being the few flies buzzing around and Mr. Jenkins next door mowing his lawn. Almost as if on cue both boys started for the door to escape outside. Grabbing their backpacks then the handlebars of their bikes they both swung a leg over and sat on the seats.
"Mom!" Eric yelled, "We're going to go swimming we'll be back before dark okay?"
"Be careful!" His mother's muffled voice came from inside the house.
"I will," Eric rolled his eyes looking at David as he grinned. David grinned back bobbling his head from side to side. The boys hopped onto a single leg forcing the pedals to start turning and rode down the street.
Twenty minutes later they reached the tree line of Wilkin's Park and stopped. The cool, shaded air blew calmly over them from the forest like woods around the park. The boys got off their bikes, the path was too bumpy to ride over so they'd have to walk until they got through the park. It was kind of creepy in there but it was the quickest way to the aquatic center and the relief of the swimming pool.
A quick nod from David before he began walking his bike on the path into the trees and Eric followed. David was still talking about next year.
"Wow," David started, "high school next year man. That's gonna be weird huh?"
"Mhmm," Eric answered from behind as he followed. Eric's mind was drawn back to those few moments back in the garage. He couldn't shake the thoughts running through his head.
The sunlight was mostly blocked by the thick trees now and it almost like being in the forest for real. Eric was looking around at the trees and smelling the fresh air blowing over them when David stopped. He set his bike against one of the trees and smiled that wicked smile of his as he took his backpack off.
"What're you doing?" Eric asked raising an eyebrow.
"Well," David chuckled, "I swiped some beer from my dad's fridge last night and since we're high schoolers now we need to learn how to drink."
Eric felt the fear crawl up his throat. If his mother found out he'd been drinking he'd get in major trouble. Still, he'd never had alcohol before and he didn't have to be home for hours. Maybe the smell would go away before anyone found out?
David was already sitting with his back against one of the trees just off the dirt path with his bag in his lap. Eric jumped at the sound of the zipper being pulled open quickly. The can was cool in his hands just like a soda can from his garage. The boys looked at each other then pulled the tabs opening their cans. The hissing noise followed by the spray of foam made them laugh more from excitement of breaking the rules than anything else. David had always been good about finding ways to get away with stuff. He was smart like that. Eric always got caught unless David did the planning.
"Cheers," David said as he held the can up. Eric returned the motion gulping dryly before putting the can to his lips.
They both took a long drink, it was awful stuff but ego did its job and they both chugged it down. Emptying the cans into their mouths as quickly as possible boy of them let out long, chest rattling belches before tossing the cans into the long grass. Their eyes watered and Eric noted that his stomach was burning just a little. He was glad it was over when David smiled and handed him another can.
"Jesus," Eric said," how many did you take?"
"I got us a whole 6 pack dude," David said proudly. "Cant' say we were really drinking if we only have 1 can each right?" His eyes looked a little red from the carbonation as he let out another long burp.
"Good one," Eric said automatically as he took another can from David.
One by one the boys sat next to each other as they finished the beers. Eric felt light headed and goofy. He glanced at David who looked pretty happy with himself. Together, they sat and talked about the rest of the Summer and how they'd have to get more beer again. After a while, Eric felt sleepy and realized that David had stopped talking. Eyes heavy he gave David a nudge. He only mumbled a little in his sleep but he was out.
A burning began to grow in Eric's center, an impulse that excited him and seemed to wake him up more. He gave David a shove but he only groaned and fell over into the grass. Slowly, Eric reached for David and moved his arms to his sides. A brief thought that he shouldn't crossed his mind but it blew away like leaves in the wind. He wanted this and it was his only chance to find out what it was like.
Slowly, cautiously he took hold of his friend's shorts and pulled them down to his knees. All the time his eyes glued to David's face. David didn't move, not a twitch and it encouraged him to keep going. He looked for a moment at David's penis. It wasn't particularly large but he liked it anyway. Gently he reached for it and lightly ran his fingers over it. It was really soft and smooth and Eric felt himself getting more excited. For a moment, he thought he could stop, just pull David's shorts back up and pretend that nothing happened. But that desire nagged at him as he continued to run his fingertips over him. He felt that David had become erect, he hadn't expected that and it caused him to grow hard too.
Without thinking, he leaned down and took David's erect penis into his mouth. His head swam in euphoria he'd never felt this happy. He started sucking it in and out of his mouth as he worked his own shorts down to find his own erection. His ears filled with the rushing sound of blood pumping through him as he touched himself. He felt wild, like a beast filled with power as he grew less cautious and more forceful with his actions. It was only a few minutes until he felt David's erection grow even more and begin to pulsate. No warning, David exploded into his mouth but he didn't stop and it pushed him over the edge. He continued sucking, trying to swallow everything David had to give him as he stroked himself and released his own orgasm into the grass between David's legs.
Only a moment of complete pleasure and suddenly it was over. Guilt, shame, embarrassment overtook him. He looked up and saw David staring at him, he didn't look angry but Eric was angry. He'd lost control. A pervert, a fag he called himself inside and he sat back furiously pulling his shorts back on. David sat up still looking confused as he pulled his pants back up.
"Oh my God," Eric whispered to himself. His mind spinning his mother's words echoing in his head about how God doesn't love homosexuals. About how he would go to hell for sure if he ever did anything like that again. Again?
The memory almost caused him to vomit. Mom had been explaining to him, no she was yelling him after she'd caught him with his cousin Reggie. They were touching each other when she found them in the garage. Reggie never came over again. Now his mother's voice was tearing his soul apart inside...
"Eric!" her voice shrill, panicked and horrified, "You can't do that with another boy! God will strike you dead where you stand! Do you understand me? It's evil! It's wicked and wrong!" Eric felt his legs going limp.
"Dude?" David's calm voice sounded like he was under water. "Dude, it's okay I already knew and I don't mind. Just don't ask me to return the favor." He laughed as he got up brushing the grass and dirt from his backside. "Hell, I'd let you do it again, at least until I find a girl you know what I mean?" and he winked at Eric.
Eric's mind was still reliving the scolding from his mother. She'd told him he was nasty, a gross little thing and maybe he shouldn't have been born after all. He'd broken her heart and God would punish him! He looked up at David's smiling face. How could he be smiling at him? He was evil and gross! Each time he breathed in it was hot like fire, like the fire in hell would be. He was doomed forever now and David just smiled at him like everything was fine!
In that moment his vision went blurry and rage seethed inside him. How could David trick him? He said he knew? He must've planned this and it's his fault! A primal scream escaped from Eric's mouth as the world swirled into blurring colors then there was nothing.
Feeling cold, Eric woke up to find himself l fault! A primal scream escaped from Eric's mouth as the world swirled into blurring colors then there was nothing.
Feeling cold, Eric woke up to find himself lying in the grass. A chill gripped him cold as ice. Eyes widened, it was night time. He was late getting home. Where was David? He wouldn't leave him there alone would he?
The moonlight beamed in through the canopy of the trees giving enough light to see dimly. There, Eric sighed in relief, David was sleeping too curled up on his side behind those trees.
"David," Eric called to him groggily," dude we are so busted. Come on man, we're dead for sure."
Kneeling down beside David, Eric took hold of his shoulder and rolled him face up to wake him. Acid boiled into his mouth as his stomach clenched into an unforgiving fist. Eric ran to the nearest bush and threw up beer and ice cream into it over and over.
"Oh God," Eric whispered as he stared at David's moonlit face.
David's face was swollen and bloody. Milky eyes stared unmoving at the stars as black trails of blood ran from the corners of his eyes. His cheek bones sticking out of the skin and a flap of his scalp hung loose away from his forehead. Eric looked, studied the horror before him in the grass seeing that even David's mouth was broken hanging open and twisted like his jaw wasn't attached on one side.
Suddenly, it all came rushing back to him. Fear, shame and guilt blaming David as he'd grabbed the heavy piece of wood from the ground. The confused look on David's face as he'd began to swing that wood as hard as he could into his smiling face. David's cries and begging Eric to stop ringing in his ears. The wet, crunching sounds turning his stomach as he furiously murdered his best friend. Hot tears ran down Eric's face as he sat down. His body shaking with grief at what he'd done, all of it. He was a monster after all. His mother had been right and he was evil.
A light bathed over his tear streaked face as he turned and heard the sound of David's dad's voice, "Eric? Is that you? Where's Davey? We're all looking everywhere for you boys! Don't think I didn't notice that missing 6 pack from my garage either."
He was walking towards Eric as he spoke. Eric just stared at him, nothing, he was empty inside when the man froze in his tracks shining the flashlight a little further up the trail...
"I wonder," Eric said emotionless," what hell is like for someone who already lives there?"

The Good Neighbor

The rain, the damned rain wouldn't stop. Every single drop slapping the concrete outside echoing inside Michael's skull. Every beat of his heart throbbed with the pitter patter beat of the fucking rain. It drove him mad. He'd already taken his medication over half an hour ago but it wasn't helping this time. No, this time the echoes of the world were trying their best to get to him and they were winning. Grinding his already cracked molars together sounded as if he was chewing of gravel.
Muggy, the air was stale and dusty in the studio apartment even with the Summer rain tormenting him. The odors of the house stinging his nostrils as everything became too clear, too real for him to handle. With each breath he felt the cold dampness of his sweaty clothes peeling away and re-sticking to his skin. The old familiar tingles like tiny insects crawling over him was back too. Itching, biting irritations from his scalp to the palms of his hands and even down to the arches of his feet.
A 19" color television was on, as always, with the sound off flashing images of laughing, singing people. Some sort of festival he told himself trying to focus on something, anything else would do. The ham sandwich he'd made only moments ago already forgotten on the tray next to the blue recliner.
He knew the visions would return soon. The haunting reminders of a violent childhood followed by his lost adulthood. The rain grew louder now and searing, burning jolts shocked his brain. In agony he stood grabbing his short brown hair knocking the tray over as he did so. The sandwich seemingly moving in slow motion. His eyes tracked the sandwich falling end over end slowly coming apart and spilling its contents out like...
"No," he told himself, "no I'm not going to think about him."
But it was too late and he knew it. The visions swarming around him like a cloud of diseased flies choking away his air. That day, that rainy Summer day like this one, so long ago but now replaying for him as if it just happened.
It wasn't his fault, they all told him that even the doctors and the police. But still, he could've done it differently couldn't he? After all, he was bigger, older and stronger. It shouldn't have mattered that his little brother had that hammer.
The world shattered before Michael's eyes now, stealing his breath and his balance as he fell back into the recliner unable to stop himself. He was now in his parents backyard. The rain just starting to fall like a cooling gift from God that hot, hot afternoon. His parents were in the house. Dad watching a John Wayne movie as Mom made his favorite, fried chicken with mashed potatoes and country gravy.
Even sitting in the recliner, Michael could smell the chicken and gravy. The memories slammed back into focus pulling him back. His little brother, James, building something out of scrap wood as he had been doing all Summer. Pounding nails with Grandpa's old wood handled hammer with the rusty head almost relentlessly every day. He had no idea what James was trying to make but that damned hammering all the time...
"Boys," it was Mom with her dumpy little round figure, salt and pepper curly hair framing her round face as she leaned out the back patio door. Michael remembered looking up, seeing James frail little figure hunched over the wood hammering away. Green striped shorts and a white undershirt hanging baggy on him as his straight, blond hair swayed next to his face with each swing of the hammer. James stopped and looked at their Mom too pausing his work to hear her.
"It's starting to rain and lunch is almost ready," she said with that tone of hers, the one that was almost friendly yet held an edge of impatience to it. "Come inside and get cleaned up."
"Okay Momma," James squeaky little voice answered as he stood and brushed away at his knees.
A blinding flash of lightning and sharp crack of thunder brought Michael back to the recliner. The wind was kicking up outside pushing the rain against the glass sliding door to the balcony. He was on the 5th floor overlooking the downtown streets.
A wet, choking breath forced its way into his lungs causing him to shake. He'd forgotten to breathe again. Cold sweat now running down his neck and cheeks. The palms of his hands ached relentlessly as he massaged them with tired fingertips.
The room was dim now. Looking to his cable box for the time he saw that it was off. The television was off too. His heart began to beat faster, panic at realizing the power was out. How was he going to regain control without the TV.? Another flash and rolling thunder shook the windows. Again the sharp, twisting pain in his chest forced him to recoil into the recliner...
Looking down at his hands, Michael saw the hedge clippers he'd been using to trim the bushes. Anger filled him, why did he have to trim the bushes? Why couldn't Dad do it like usual? He'd already had to mow and rake the yards, pull the weeds and edge the driveway. It was unfair that he was inside relaxing instead of helping at least.
The high pitched whine started to drone in Michael's ears again. He hated it when that happened, it blocked out everything else like he was deaf. Nothing but that ringing sound making him nauseous. Dizzy, he began turning to go inside because at least Mom's hot food would be comforting. His feet felt heavy as he trudged towards the house not noticing that the rain had hit so fast and hard that he was partially sinking into the fresh mud.
Sound was returning as the ringing whine faded away. Screaming? He was hearing screaming, it was Mom! Frantically he looked around to see what was wrong, finding it all too easily. There he was, at his feet. James lay on the ground, hammer in his limp right hand. Vacant, empty eyes staring into the sky as the rain formed puddles in the corners before running down the sides of his nose and cheeks. The hedge clippers looking fake as they protruded from his little chest. Blood, thick and dark, was everywhere and all over them both.
Michael froze in the grip of icy shock at what lay before him. The look on James' face forever etching itself into him memories. Wide, round eyes once blue now gone to grey and his mouth twisted open with the jaw slacked off to the side. Thick, sticky, dark blood matted in his blond hair like a wicked halo around his small head.
James coughed, only once, spitting a fine mist of crimson blood into the air before a long, rattling exhale. James was still now, empty, dead and pale as a thin line of blood ran from the right corner of his mouth and down his chin.
"Oh my God!" Mom was screaming hysterically and pulling at her hair dancing in the rain on the patio. "No! No! No! No!" she was yelling over and over as she dropped to her knees.
Dad came running out of the house mouth open and eyes filled with disbelief. His tall, lean figure stumbling with shaky knees as he sprinted out to Michael and James. Strong fingers pinched Michael's shoulders and began rocking him back and forth violently as they had many times before.
"What did you do?" Dad's voice was harsh and accusatory.
"Michael? What did you do?" he repeated as his voice began to quiver.
The fear came up like bile into Michael's mouth, what had he done? He didn't even remember seeing James but they'd never believe him. Dad would beat him again if he didn't answer. He might beat him, or worse, if he didn't
"I...I don't know," Michael stammered with the fearful voice of a 12 year old, "he started swinging at me. He...he said I was the last nail and attacked me with Grandpa's hammer! I put my hand out to stop him...I forgot I had the clippers and he ran into them!"
It had to be the truth, Michael figured because it made sense. James had his temper tantrums like any other 5 year old.
"James," Michael cried as hot tears began to pour from his eyes. His body convulsed with sorrow, grief and guilt. "Oh God James!" He screamed.
"Jesus God," Dad said pulling Michael into his arms, clutching him tight and crying himself.
The biting gunshot of thunder brought Michael back into the recliner. It was getting darker now with the storm still raging outside and no power. He wondered what time it was. The pain was going away and he was grateful for it. He stood and gathered the spilled food from the floor and began looking for the garbage can. Under the kitchen sink he found some rags and a spray bottle of cleaning solution.
Thinking of the time, it had been 4 days and he needed to go now. But it wasn't fair to leave a nasty stain on the carpet so he quickly sprayed it down and cleaned it up. Turning his back to the patio door he knelt down, gathering his things into his carry bag. A last look at his host, an elderly woman lying on the couch. What was her name? Oh yeah, Gladys, she's said she was Gladys.
Her grey curls now lay flat on the couch cushion. Michael took note of her blank stare forever looking up at the ceiling they were coated over now and milky white. Cocking his head to the side with a satisfied smile he nodded at the dead woman with the pair of sewing shears poking out of her chest. The brown dried blood had soaked her little white sofa and the carpet underneath after he'd stabbed her. It only took a few moments for her to die though just like all the others.
He felt grateful for his time with her. She was a clean woman and organized, Michael liked an organized home. She'd even had his favorite brand of lunch ham in the fridge! A last look around the apartment as he removed his latex gloves. It was a pain to wear them for days at a time but that one time he'd forgone the precaution they found a fingerprint. How they'd found it still confused him as he took a new can of lighter fluid from his bag and began squirting it around.
Comforting was the hiss of the wood match as he smelled the burned sulphur before touching the happily dancing flame to the carpet. Warmth bathed over him as he watched the fire grow and mature spreading over the carpets before crawling up into the recliner and over Gladys. In a moment the alarms would go off. He'd already disabled the sprinklers on this floor, they'd blame a rusted valve this time. There, the alarm bells started ringing and his mood lightened. Better than listening to that fucking rain he thought.
After a few seconds he heard everyone scrambling out of their adjoining apartments to vacate the building. It was all too easy to vanish. Latex gloves still balled into his right fist he pulled the door open as his left hand stuck the spent match into his pocket. His only trophy but he'd recall Gladys with this one just like all the others in his bag.
There! the hallway was almost empty as he stepped confidently out, pulling the door tightly shut behind him. An elderly man with a metal cane was having trouble getting his door shut two doors down. Michael walked to him with a broad smile on his clean shaven face.
"Here," he said almost cheerfully, "let me help you with that. Don't you hate these fire drills?"
"Are you sure it's a drill?" the old man sounded frightened.
"Of course," Michael reassured him, "if it was a real fire the sprinklers would be getting us all wet wouldn't they?"
With that the man smiled in relief and nodded. Michael waved at him as he entered the stairway halfway. He stopped holding the door open for the old man to follow.
"My name's Michael," he said to the approaching elderly man, "what did you say your name was?"

Awakening the Sleeper

I tell myself to be steady, always steady. This isn't a job for the sleepers. Hmph, sleepers, those pathetic zombies pretending to live their lives day by day. Same old routines, same old rules catching only glimpses of really being alive in those brief moments when they step out of their comfortable cages. Drugs, sex, pornography, overeating...these degenerates of society find themselves when they lose themselves.
There are few like me. Few who know what's inside and don't cower from our true natures. I look down upon the young person in front of me. Wide round eyes, shaking breathes and beads of sweat wreaking of terror rolling down its face and neck.
"Tonight," I whisper into this sleepers ear, "I am your vampire, your monster and you have my full attention." A high pitched whimper rumbles from its throat. The body trembles with understanding of my words.
The air is stoic and sticky in the summer heat leaving a thin layer of moisture on my neck. I am alive! I feel every breath, every pore of my skin tingles anticipating what I do best. A slow, deep, purposeful inhalation fills my lungs with the scents of dust, old newspaper and the sleeper's pheromones. Turning to look into those dark, watery eyes again I feel the real me coiling up inside and ready to pounce.
"I know why you people love your monsters," I say with mock disgust, " You think your world is so safe. Sure, bad things happen but not to you. No, those things don't happen if you keep inside your boundaries right?" It shudders and looks away towards the floor.
"Yeah," I start again, "I know your kind all too well." I pace the small room slowly. The random cracks in the old wooden slats that make the walls allow pale beams of moonlight in showing the dirt swirling in the air. It looks with eyes that beg towards the door of the room. Still hoping, still praying for freedom. We both know that nobody's coming. Nobody's looking for it. As far as the world's concerned this specific automaton is still following its daily routine driving home from working late like every Tuesday night.
"Save it," I say flatly, "they all think you're still on schedule. Nobody knows you're missing...yet."
That last word did it, brought up the welling of emotion I was waiting for. It started sobbing hysterically, practically convulsing in its restraints on the table where I'd strapped it down. The reaction brought my skin alive! Lightning virtually coursing through my blood started my heart pounding. I literally felt the pupils of my eyes dilate wide and I became one with the entire universe. I was connected again! My very breathe directing the ebb and flow of all things great and small. Mine to hold in my hand once more. That shining, golden moment of power filling me up inside instantly separating me from my foul physical body. I flew free through all time and space simultaneously and the glory of existing was mine and only mine.
I scarcely noticed the metallic singing of the blade as the monster now set free inside that decaying bag of flesh rapidly withdrew the surgical stainless steel blade from the black sheath down below me. I looked down to behold the work of the other me, the monster now set loose.
His eyes, black as night. His face was slack and emotionless as he set to work. Knowing to his core what he must do. The thing he was created to do. I watched with parental pride as he stalked around the table slowly sending more powerful emotions up to me. Feeding me as was his purpose for being.
Then, the moment came when the universe was silent as had happened 47 times before. We knew the moment, commanded by the very fabric of the universe itself. I could take no more, I had all the power I could hold and it was time. Time to set this pathetic thing free. Time to cage the monster, the beast, my servant once more until the call came again. For power must be balanced in the universe, to have it otherwise would bring chaos and the end of all life. I know this, which means that all living things know this. It was time...
A hiss of air broke the silence bringing the sobs of the sleeper loud and frantic into me. The sound of my servant gathering strength as he poised his knife over it. A seconds pause and the beast plunged into its chest. The sounds of tearing skin and cracking bone satisfying the monsters own hunger. A few more delicious moments of watching the sleeper's eyes go empty and it was over. Color returned to the world, time began flowing forward once again as it always did. The universe is satisfied, I am satisfied as is my monster.
Satiated with the feeding, he coils back up inside me going to sleep until the call comes again. I pull the blade slowly from the empty shell in front of me. Dark, lifeless blood pools over it and rolls onto the floor.
Leaning down to the shell's ear I whisper, "You're welcome," before closing the eyes.
Cleaning up after these gatherings is always time consuming but I've gotten rather good at it since my first time. After all, I was only 12 that first time. Now I'm in my 40s and understand more. It was good setting that sleeper free. We all got what we needed in the end.