Tasting Andrew

Andrew sat pensively at the dinette table in the kitchen and watched the stranger fix a pot of tea. The man had assured him that Victor would be down shortly.  

“Yagna, right?” probed Andrew as he watched the man set out the mugs and prepare the tea as if performing some solemn ritual.

“Yes, Yagna,” replied Yagna intent upon his preparations. He sat a mug in front of Andrew then returned to collect a basket of assorted teas.

“Are you…a….like…? stammered Andrew cautiously as Yagna returned to set the basket of tea bags in front of the boy.

“Yes, I am like Victor,” replied Yagna as set a sugar bowl down adjacent to the basket of tea bags. The kettle began to whistle signaling that the water was ready. “I am a vampire. Actually Victor sired me.”

Andrew’s mind captured a fleeting thought from this stranger. He could see the scene in the village as Victor mounted the mortally injured Yagna in the heat of the “siring” that would save Yagna but change his life forever. The image was brutal but also mixed with the compassion of one friend for his trusted companion and the sense of urgency. The images from the memory flooded Andrew’s mind.

“Victor was correct,” commented Yagna pouring the hot water into the lad’s mug and then taking a seat next to Andrew as he felt the boy retrieve the powerful memory. Yagna thoughtfully examined the boy. “You have quite a gift there.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” apologized Andrew nervously averted his gaze from the handsome man and then concentrated on dousing his tea bag into the steaming cup. “I just don’t know how to control it.”

“I believe Victor and I might be able to help you with that,” offered Yagna as he fixed his mug of tea. A third cup waited for Victor. “It is a gift and you should appreciate its power but also the responsibilities that are associated with it.”

Something about Yagna put Andrew at ease finally. When Andrew arrived at Victor’s house and was greeted by this stranger at the door, the young man did not know what to expect.

“You are Prince Yagna, aren’t you?” inquired Andrew comfortably as he remembered the stories that Victor had shared with him of his adventures across ten centuries. A grin crossed the Yagna’s face and Andrew looked into this man’s eyes and his mind was flooded with Yagna’s memories of the many adventures with his comrade, occasional lover, and the man that had granted him the destiny of being a vampire.

“I have not been referred to as a prince in a very long time,” remarked Yagna carefully examining this young man that had become the recent obsession of his old friend. “Most just call me Yag.” Yagna could sense the touch of Andrew’s mind into his thoughts. The psychic touch was not threatening, or intrusive, but felt cautiously inquisitive.

“And you must be the young man that has awakened the spirit of the “White Tiger” in my friend,” added Yagna with an approving smile in response to the power which he sensed in Andrew. During their roleplaying with Paul during the night, Yagna had noted that Victor was wearing the white tiger pendant with the sapphire eyes that he had gifted his friend many centuries ago. Victor had worn this necklace proudly and the white tiger became his adopted persona on his many adventures across the globe. After the peace had been brokered between the vampire slayers and the vampires during the days after the end of the Second World War, Victor had confided in Yagna that the “White Tiger” was retiring. The establishment of the “enforcers” comprised of the most noble of the vampires and slayers would keep the peace.

As Yagna had drifted into his thoughts about Victor, a silence fell between Andrew and Yagna as both look with concern to the kitchen doorway. Both wondering as to what was delaying Victor.

Victor’s Bedroom.

I had to pick up my cell phone as it insistently buzzed with the arrival of several texts. The sense of urgency was unmistakable. The messages were from DJ recounting his discovery of the brutal crime scene of Nick’s murder.

I attempted to understand the words and the horrid images. My mind was in a flurry.

Ten centuries of witnessing man’s gruesome hostility toward his fellow man, including some of which I had participated, had somewhat dampened my emotional responses to such violence. But these images were not the results of rage but contained a calculated darkness in which was imbedded a threatening message. This was an intentional and ritualistic act.

“Andrew is this boy’s roommate. Have you seen Andrew?” the text from DJ demanded.

“Yes. Andrew is here. Arrived a few minutes ago.” I replied curtly to DJ’s text. The possibilities of this act bouncing around my mind.

“Good. He doesn’t know.” DJ responded. “This is bad. Keep him safe.”

“I will. Be safe, my friend.” I assured DJ as our quick exchange ended. I flipped through the gruesome photos and my eye caught the icon scrawled roughly on the rock ledge with the boy’s blood. It was the crescent slashed diagonally with three jagged lines that I had seen in the sketch that Andrew had given me and I had seen in my dreams lately. This was an ancient symbol exuding some powerful evil, an evil that we had thought was vanquished but still existed lurking under the surface of the world in those dark crevices into which dangerous and vile things hide. I saw the discarded cape, the cowboy hat, and the ripped plaid shirt among the photos.

This threatening message was directed at me. My mind drifted back to the memory of that night in which I was brutally taken and transformed into this life as a vampire. I remember those words snarled at me by my attacker which have haunted me across my long life in those quiet times of self-doubt.

“Boy, I bestow on you this curse that you will never hold love in your heart,” growled this monster in my distant memory. “And all that you cherish will be torn from your embrace as I embrace you in my darkness.” The growling of my attacker and the sharp stab of his fangs into my left pectoral piercing my heart in deadly pain still fresh in my mind. “And all that you cherish will be torn from your embrace,” echoed in my thoughts.

My mind was assaulted and my body felt unclean. I needed a shower to rinse away these images and to restore some sense of equilibrium. I stumbled into the master bath and caught sight of my disheveled image in the mirror. The tiger pendant hanging from my chest gleamed at me with its alert eyes of a fiery blue. We can only deny our natures for so long. If evil can hide and regroup in the shadows, then why shouldn’t the opposing forces be afforded the same respite? Yes, I needed a shower. Then I needed to speak with Andrew. I let the force of the hot water pulse over me in a soothing ritual of cleansing my body and my mind.

I quickly got myself dressed and bounded downstairs. As I approached the kitchen, I heard Andrew and Yagna laughing as if they were old friends.

“…and so, there was Victor completely covered in mud from where he slipped down the edge of the ravine, looking absolutely ridiculous,” Yagna explained to the snickering Andrew about one of our jungle adventures that had gone horribly, comically awry and had unfortunately ended with me landing face first into a mud pit.

“Yag, are you filling Andrew’s head with your tall tales?” I inquired as I entered the kitchen. When Andrew caught sight of me, without hesitation, the boy leaped to his feet and tackled me in a bone-crushing hug. “I am glad to see you, Andrew.” The mood suddenly shifted to seriousness.

“Some…something bad has happened,” Andrew blurted out still clinging to me. “I can feel it…but I don’t understand what.” From Andrew’s rattled thoughts, I could determine that he did not know about the fate of his roommate Nick. “I had another nightmare last night.”

“Yes,” was the only word that could emerge from my mouth.

“I can’t turn this off,” stammered Andrew as his body shook with anxiety. “Why can’t I turn this off? I don’t want to know these things. I don’t want to feel these things.”

I steadied myself as I looked into Andrew’s eyes and was confronted with the confused emotions emanating from him. I had seen that look and heard those words spoken so many years ago from my Andrei and now from this boy that resembled him so much. I had failed Andrei and I had promised myself that I would not fail Andrew.

“Calm, Andrew,” I softly spoke looking deep in my eyes. “We will help you, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to share with you. And I want to know that you are safe and there are those who love you and are willing to protect you.” I thought back to the threatening words from my dream—" And all that you cherish will be torn from your embrace as I embrace you in my darkness.” I thought to myself in reply to that curse----no, not this time. I steered Andrew back to his seat at the table. Taking a deep breath, I began to inform him of what DJ had shared with me about Nick. I touched the white tiger pendant hanging from around my neck and Yagna nodded solemnly. I summoned a determination in me to prevent this young man from the fate from which I had failed to save Andrei so many years ago.

Vlad’s Apartment

Becca found herself somewhere in that misty place in her mind between sleep and waking. The smell of frying sausage and coffee brewing invaded her senses, along with the comforting warmth of Vlad’s body protectively wrapped around her as she lay in his bed. Becca stirred and Vlad was also waking. She kissed him gently on his cheek and nestled closer to him.

“You fixed us breakfast?” questioned Becca softly.

“Breakfast?” murmured Vlad still coming to his senses. He suddenly sat straight up in bed in visible alarm. “Baba!” Vlad was up and throwing on his nearby sweatpants and t-shirt. Before Becca could say anything, Vlad had frantically darted out of the bedroom. Becca giggled some as she could hear Vlad chatting rather nervously with his grandmother.

Vlad’s Baba was stationed in Vlad’s kitchen in the midst of preparations of a bountiful home-cooked breakfast. The short, stout woman smiled impishly as her grandson burst into the kitchen. Three settings had been expectedly placed upon the little dinette table.

“Baba, I was not expecting you this morning,” apologized Vlad nervously hugging his grandmother.

“I hope that Becca will be joining us,” remarked Baba without any judgmental tone in her voice as she set a plate of sliced homemade bread upon the table and then returned to tending to the frying sausage.

“I will ask, Baba,” muttered Vlad as he realized that his grandmother knew about his overnight guest.

“I could not sleep last night,” explained Baba as she gathered the sausages upon a plate to set upon the table. “The storms and other things. Felt bad. I came over to see if you be home from your play. But you had already gone to bed.” Baba winked. “So I slept some on your sofa, but not easy. Like I said—bad night. But you and Becca? You had a good night, yes?”

“Yes, Baba. I can---“stammered Vlad nervously. His grandmother just shook her head dismissively.

“Breakfast is getting cold,” scolded Baba. “Get Becca to the table.” Vlad was confused by the reaction from his grandmother. Where were the harsh words and the lecture? Baba leaned up and kissed her grandson on his cheek. “I love you very much, Vlad, and so glad that you have opened your heart to this girl. She is a good girl. But right now, she is a hungry girl who is wondering where her boyfriend is. Now, go.”

“Boyfriend?” protested Vlad, but his grandmother responded with a knowing smirk. There was no sense in arguing with the reality of the moment and Vlad made a hasty exit to retrieve Becca from his bedroom.

Becca joined Vlad and his gracious grandmother at the little dinette table. After a very brief moment of awkwardness, all was at ease and the three were pleasantly chatting and enjoying the breakfast.

“So, Vlad, you did not go to your celebration last night,” remarked Baba scornfully. “You had much to celebrate. How you say--- ah, yes, triumph, my actor grandson soon to be movie star.”

“I was tired and my leg hurt from my fall the other night,” explained Vlad sheepishly. “I decided to go home instead. Like you said, Baba, the night felt bad.”

“I thought you might have changed your mind,” remarked Becca. “There was this fellow that came to the party that was wearing what looked like your Dracula cape. I thought it was you, Vlad, but I think it was some friend of Nick’s since they left together.” Becca paused in thought. “He felt creepy so definitely he was probably one Nick’s idiot friends.” Vlad looked at Becca with great concern as she was lost in the memory of the strange encounter with Nick and the stranger at the DRACULA cast party. Becca turned her gaze to Vlad and smiled. The look of concern on his face made her feel so safe and protected.

“I have something for you, Vlad,” interrupted Baba as she retrieved her big purse and dug furiously. She pulled out a framed black and white photo. “You are not the only actor that has been in our family. Your grandfather’s uncle Boris was an actor back in Bosnia. Very talented. This is a photo of him and his theatre company back before the war against the fascists.” Baba gingerly handed Vlad the framed photo as Becca gently peered over his shoulder. Baba pointed to a tall man with Vlad’s brooding, but handsome features. “That is Boris.” Vlad and Becca examined the photo of the small group of actors, actresses, and artists arranged on stage in an ornate theatre. Several were dressed in extravagant costumes of capes, feathers, turbans, and fanciful skirts. One young man sat with a painter’s palette across his lap and a paintbrush extended to paint an invisible canvas. Another man stood protectively behind the young artist with one hand resting on the lad’s shoulder.

“Who is this man here?” asked Becca pointed to the disturbing familiar figure standing guard over the younger artist. Vlad’s attention shifted to the figure to whom Becca had indicated.

Baba looked carefully at the figure in the photo and replied, “I don’t remember his name. Been many years ago. It might have been Victor. Yes. If I am correct, then this is Victor. Boris and he were good friends. So many died in the war against the Fascists. Boris was heartbroken by all the death.”

“Andrew?” muttered Becca in disbelief looking at the young artist.

“And this one looks like your Professor Browning,” added Vlad pointing to the man standing protectively over the artist.

The familiarity of the two faces staring out from the photo was uncanny as Becca and Vlad exchanged looks.

Vulcan Park. Birmingham, Alabama

Watching from the pedestal of the towering cast iron statue of the god Vulcan, Rolf gazed hungrily northward across the skyline of Birmingham. The site was a fitting location for receiving his payment for his latest task for his true masters. Rolf could sense the man’s approach long before he heard the footsteps. Rolf turned to see the figure slowly lumbering toward him, but not with the ease and malevolent confidence that the figure had displayed at their first meeting. The pace and sway of each stride toward Rolf gave the impression that the figure was struggling to control the actions of his limbs. Rolf stared at his approaching companion with a bland expression of slight boredom.

The man stopped uneasily in front of Rolf’s position and eyed him with disdain but with an underlying mix of pain. The man’s mouth twitched as if he was having a seizure then he spoke.

“Your miss—misshion has been success—sssful?” questioned the man as if he was trying to contain an opposing force within his own body.

“Yes, Nergal,” responded Rolf cold, but obediently. “Have you the payment?” Rolf grinned exposing just a hint of his fangs.

“Please, call me Mark. There is no need for sssuch formality,” hissed the man as he cautiously canvassed the area for any eavesdropping. To his satisfaction, the park was desolate during the end of this late autumn day. “All was done as instructed?”

“Yes, the boy is dead as the ritual demanded,” replied Rolf slightly becoming aroused at the memory of brutally taking that “cowboy” in the woods. “The message will be hard for Victor to ignore.”

“Excellent,” hissed this unsettling figure named Mark Nergal. “The intent should be enough to keep Victor from being involved in any opposition. You struck at his very heart with killing this boy Andrew. He will not have the passion to be in our way now.” Mark reached out his hand and patted Rolf on the shoulder and looked into the vampire’s eyes.

“Do you have the payment upon which we agreed?” questioned Rolf meeting the strange man’s gaze. There was a quick twitch and rollback of the man’s eyes then once the slight seizure passed, Mark continued.

“I have an additional task for you, vampire,” growled Mark. “One, which I believe you might find pleasssssure in assisting me.” Mark’s fingers tried to caress along Rolf’s shoulder while his other hand thrust a small piece of paper toward Rolf. “This is the addresssssss at which you can retrieve your payment and the place where you…you can asssss—assist me with a little matter. You see, this body has…has become difficult and is…is…is..ill-suited for the next necessary tasks. The will of the former occupant is becoming annoying. I have a more willing and …and …..suitable candidate coming to me this evening.”

Rolf grinned as he could feel the intent of this creature who called himself Mark Nergal.

“I need you to make us..us…like you,” snarled John shaking as another spasm shook his body. “Then we can accomplish the next task at hand soon with little or no difficulty.” Rolf nodded in agreement as he glanced at the address written clumsily across the note paper. Mark slid his hand along Rolf’s chest to his crotch and gently grasped the vampire’s semi-hard cock.

“I see that you have some..some interest in assisting me,” hissed Mark as he massaged Rolf’s lengthening penis confined in the vampire’s straining jeans. “Good, I will see you at seven this evening. The lad’s name is Ace. You will find the task ..quite…quite…stimulating.” With those final words, Mark Nergal abruptly turned and staggered away from Rolf.

“What about the bitch?” Rolf shouted out to the retreating figure. Mark Nergal turned and grinned with his twitching mouth which gave him an insane countenance.

“Ace will take care of her in due time,” replied Mark. “He is perfect for the task.” The figure turned and exited from Rolf’s field of view.

Rolf looked down at the address and grinned.

“Sounds like dinner and a show,” Rolf chuckled wickedly.

7 pm. Birmingham, Alabama.

Several decades had passed since the steel mill had heard the last hiss and clang of activities of strong men toiling in its blasting heat and ruddy light. Only the dim light of the night sky and the old security lights filtered into the monstrous ruins of the huge facility. The machinery sat idle and rusting, chains hung solemnly. As Rolf approached the center of the decaying building, he could sense movement ahead in the shadows among the chains. He could faintly discern a figure standing seemingly attached to the hanging chains and another larger figure nearby. When Rolf approached, he could see for certain that is what the man he had referred to as Nergal intertwined within the heavy chains and the larger figure was a muscled fellow with his shirt open exposing a broad furry chest and pierce nips. His arms hung at his side and his shorts had been pulled down to his feet exposing his semi-hard dick nestled in a thick bush of pubic hair. The virility of this man heightened Rolf’s sense of hunger---such a strong fellow. The moonlight reflected off the man’s bald head and caught the sparkle of the diamond studs in ears. His scent was intoxicating.

The man and Mark had obviously decided to start without Rolf. The man extended his big hand toward Rolf.

“Fuck yeah, buddy,” exclaimed the man in obvious aroused excitement as he eyed Rolf who would complete the planned threesome. “The name is Ace.” The man shook Rolf’s hand in a strong grip pulling Rolf toward him into a big bear hug. The smell of the man’s arousal and the strength of his embrace made Rolf’s fangs unintentionally extend. Rolf realized that he would be able to indulge with this man soon once the planned ritual was under way.

“Suck Rolf’s cock,” encouraged Mark swaying in the chains unsteadily. The restrained man licked his lips still savoring the taste of Ace’s cock.

“Hell, yeah,” roared Ace as the big man dropped to his knees and pulled down Rolf’s jeans releasing Rolf’s already engorged and dripping hard-on. Ace slobbering enthusiastically on Rolf’s cock. In between slurps, the exuberant stud commented excitedly. “Fucking nice tool, man. Damn..look at all that pre-cum.” Ace slurped and licked savoring the taste of Rolf’s venomous pre-cum. “You gonna fuck me this nice meat? I fucking hope so. Damn hottest sex ever and then fucking superpowers. Fucking sweet.” Rolf just growled as his eyes glanced at Mark who was visibly fighting to control the body in which he inhabited.

Though having its own sex appeal, the Mark’s current body did not have the physical power which he required and which Ace was doomed to provide. Obviously, the original soul inhabiting the body was becoming increasingly difficult to manage for Mark. The new host would hopefully be more compliant and the physical strength of this roughneck would serve nicely for the next necessary tasks.

Rolf had leaned over the big man’s massive back and slid his finger into Ace’s eager hole.

“What a hot hole, buddy?” growled Rolf as he deeply fingered Ace’s ass. Ace moaned and the vibrations stimulated Rolf’s cock buried deep in the man’s eager mouth.

“You want to breed my hole, stud?” groaned Ace as he pulled Rolf’s dripping cock from his mouth and gazed up at the vampire excitedly as the effects of Rolf’s precum quickly worked the big man into a frenzy. Rolf glanced over to Mark who was intensely watching the two men and slowly stroking his dick. Mark nodded in approval to Rolf and the vampire hissed baring his fangs. Ace was beyond excitement at seeing Rolf expose his true nature.

“Fucking hell yeah!” exclaimed Ace enthusiastically upon seeing Rolf’s fangs. “Breed my ass and bite me, dude! I want to be just like you. Mark said you could make me a fucking vampire.”

Rolf now understood what role that Mark had hoped he would play in this encounter. Rolf would turn this hapless brute into a vampire equipped with all the attributes that Mark desired for his next steps in the unfolding plans. Mark would then possess Ace’s vampiric body and shed his control of his current host. The scenario excited Rolf and he pulled the eager Ace upon his feet. Rolf quickly positioned himself on his back and pulled Ace over top of his ready cock. Ace was in a frenzy and placed himself at the ready for Rolf’s intended thrust. Rolf snarled and rammed his engorged dick upward deep into Ace’s ass and the bull of a man issued a howling scream of pain and pleasure as Rolf sank balls deep into the man’s hole. After a few thrusts, Rolf pulled Ace down to lick the man’s broad hairy chest and up to his neck. With each thrust, Ace gave an excited grunt leaning his head back to expose his neck in anticipation of the piercing of Rolf’s fangs. Rolf decided that he wanted to enjoy this man’s ass for awhile before tasting his life. He heard the rattle of chains behind him as Mark positioned himself behind Ace.

Ace turned and noticed Mark’s approach and his ready cock.

“Sweet cock there, buddy,” hissed Ace grimacing in between each of Rolf’s thrusts. “I’m gonna let you fuck me with that tool, Mark, when this boy is done.” Mark grinned wickedly at Ace’s invitation.

“Why wait?” snarled Mark grabbing Ace’s ass. Rolf caught Mark’s eyes and realized what was about to transpire and pulled Ace down in a deep kiss then struck his neck with his fangs as he held the big man tight. Mark took advantage of Ace’s distraction and the positioning of his ass by being pulled down to the vicious mouth of the vampire and rammed his cock into Ace’s hole that was already inhabited by Rolf’s cock. Ace’s shrieks echoed as his ass felt the brutal double penetration and his neck was pierced by Rolf’s fangs. Rolf drank hungrily from the struggling man as Mark pushed deeper into the ass of his future host.

“Oh fuck,” Ace moaned as he felt him self filled by the two dicks pulsing within his stretched hole and the suction of Rolf’s hungry mouth on his neck. Once he grew accustomed to the massive intrusion into his ass and the slow loss of his blood, Ace entered a dreamy state bordering on pleasure and pain. Once Rolf had satisfied himself with an initial taste of this healthy fellow, Rolf kissed down the man’s heaving chest to his meaty left pec which was the intended target of the bite that would seal Ace’s fate and his desire to be a vampire. Unfortunately, Ace’s awareness would soon be pushed aside by the presence within Mark. Rolf could see from Mark’s face and the twitching of the man’s facial features as he approached orgasm that soon, the demonic presence would make that leap into Ace by way of a mind-blowing orgasm. Rolf positioned his fangs along Ace’s sweaty left pec then without warning, plunged them deep into the man’s heart in the bite of transformation. The shock of the deeply piercing bite and the throbs of the impending orgasm of the two cocks filling his ass was pushing Ace to his final orgasm as a free individual. With an otherworldly howl echoing across the metal of the ruined steel mill, Mark emptied his orgasm and possessive spirit into the unsuspecting Ace as the man was being transformed into a vampire by Rolf’s bite. Ace shook as the demon slid into his psyche. The rush of Mark’s orgasm and the passage of the demonic presence sent Rolf over the edge and his dick exploded deep in the shared hole of Ace.

Mark shook his head as if waking from a nightmare with his psyche resuming control of his own body now that the possession had ended. Realization hit him like ice water and he pulled out of Ace’s ass scampering away from Ace and Rolf still coupled on the floor of the abandoned mill. The chains that held the man rattled frantically.

Ace disengaged himself from Rolf on the floor and looked at the former host with a ferocious hunger. Rolf pulled himself from the floor to watch the man formerly known as Ace rise to his predatory power and be propelled into the need to feed. Ace’s cock was still at full mast as the man had not been able to cum before the transformation and possession took him.

“Ace, you need to feed, buddy,” insisted Rolf with an eager hiss. Ace’s eyes locked upon an intended target---the newly unpossessed Mark who whimpered as he struggled futilely to free himself from the chains that held him. Ace turned to Rolf.

“Well, done, vampire,” Ace snarled licking his extending fangs. “Now leave me to satisfy my hunger and lust, grrrrrrrr.” Ace stroked his solid cock in the direction of Mark. “You will find your payment as you requested down behind that door.” Ace pointed his big arm in the general direction of a door in the shadows. “ I believe you will find it according to your detailed requirements.”

With a beastly growl, Ace abruptly ended the instructions to Rolf who was quickly dressing. The big man lunged at the smaller figure of Mark who was desperately pleading----“This is not what you promised. Please. NOOOOOO!” Ace scooped up Mark and impaled the struggling man on his raging hard on and began to fuck Mark wildly. Rolf finished fastening his shorts as Ace plunged his newly formed fangs into the neck of the screaming Mark. Rolf walked toward the door and his waiting payment as Mark’s shrieks and Ace’s eager growls and grunts filled the derelict hulk of the building. With the sounds of Ace and Mark in the background, Rolf located a large envelope of cash with a key secured to the outside of the stash. Rolf used the key to unlock the door. Inside the small closet-like room that was dimly lit from a small battery-operated lantern was a figure huddled in the corner with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. The figure looked up at Rolf and the young man was all that Rolf had requested as the demon had promised.

The nearby shrieks had given way to grunts, groans, and the sounds of Ace’s powerful body slamming into his first kill.

The young man was lean but powerfully built but could use a good meal. He lifted his face about which hung a mane of brown hair that was in need of combing. His blue eyes met Rolf’s eyes not with defiance but with a touch of sadness amidst their underlying gentle nature. The boy was maybe in his late teens but not much older than his early twenties. Rolf grinned as examined his newfound treasure. The young man rose shakily to his feet, his tattered white t-shirt and nylon shorts fluttered some. Rolf licked his lips as the boy conjured up the classic image of a Christ-like figure.

“What is your name, boy?” Rolf spoke in a voice almost tinged with awe.

“Charlie,” the young man spoke still with his gaze fixed upon Rolf. “Are you the master here to save me?” Rolf shuddered in delight and smiled toothily.

“Yes,” replied Rolf in a husky voice between lust and admiration. “Yes, Charlie. You look like you were made to save us all.” Charlie nervously nodded.

“Whatever my master desires,” agreed the boy.

Mark’s screams resumed as Rolf reached out to pull Charlie toward him and out of the tiny room and into the building. Rolf turned to peer toward the figures of Ace and Mark writhing in the throes of Ace’s brutal rape of the man. A new sound joined the cacophony of growls, groans, rattling chains, and screams----the sound of tearing flesh and snapping bones. Rolf steered the dazed Charlie away from the sounds and toward the nearest exit leading out of the abandoned mill which had once seen the forging of metal and was now witness to the forging of new weapon for their unholy cause.