In the Neon Mist

Devin looks out to sea thoughtfully and takes a sip of  bottled beer:

“Dude.  That wasn’t us”

He had called twenty minutes ago to meet at the Pier Bar, a hangout of our friendship group. He had known I didn’t want to talk about what had happened that morning but was insistent. 

“Then what, Dev?  Were we possessed?”

 “Must’ve been some horny-assed poltergeist” 

He’s smiling, sarcastically.  Its infectious, eases the tension.  We’re sitting on a sandbank looking across the beach to sea, lit only by the dying light and the warm glow of the string lights tangled around the pier. Meeting Devin was the right thing to do:  I’d hit a mental brick wall trying to understand what had happened. The immense pleasure I’d felt in that basement was like nothing I’d ever experienced. Trying to rationalise my actions and what had led up to what we did was frying every cell in my brain.

“Something made us do that Will.  I know it. I’m not gay, not even curious. If something made me act like that without my knowledge, my full consent....C’Mon, Harper, you’re the journalist, what happened to us in there?”

I try to piece it together like I would a story:

"There was these canisters in the refrigerated cabinet,  maybe when you knocked that junk over it released some sort of gas?"

“There was an open canister in the boxes that me and Scotty junked”  His eyes flashed with hope  "

"Let’s go back and get them, have them tested. Can we do that?”

“We cant both go back” I say, swigging a gulp of bud.

“Why?”  his eyes flash in recognition as he caught up. “Uggh yeah in case it happens again, in case we....”

“Let me go back and see what I can find” I wanted to.  I needed answers.

“Just be careful, bro.  I’ve got the worst feeling about all of this”

We both look out into the encroaching darkness.

The house looks like something from a horror film. The knots of vines that covered the exterior look like gnarled fingers holding the entire property in an otherworldly grasp. I turn-on a heavy duty torch as I get out of the car. The basement is as we left it. A faint glow comes from the frosted over windows of the refrigerated cabinet at the end of the room. I stuff the contents of a box of old papers into my rucksack and approach the cabinet. The cannisters are freezing in my hand. I place each of them into my bag. Then I hear it. Creaking. Footsteps.

I quietly run to the Metal table in the centre of the room and crouch, turning my torch off. The blackness fills with the buzz of radio chatter, static fuzz. I can hear my heart beat loudly in my ears. I’m paralysed with fear.

“That’s a negative, Sir. There was a car outside the house. It belongs to one of the house clearance team. Over” 

Was that the police? The feds? A smartphone torch illuminates the space on the other side of the workspace and a radio crackles:

“Kill anyone found on sight and dispose of the remains in the usual fashion. Any evidence of GD279? Over”

“Affirmative and no evidence of GD279, Sir. Over”

“Clean the entire area and return to base. Over”

“Cleaning process already initiated. Over"

The crackle stops.I don’t know what to do. I’m frozen. Flashes of faces in my anxiety. Mom, Dad....Scotty? I’m going to die here. That voice said ‘Kill anyone found on sight’. The feeling of dread was heavy, it weighted me but I had to move, free myself from this paralysis and run. I hear the suck of the seal of the refrigerator open and close. Footsteps start to tap from the end of the room and creak up the stairs. He hadn’t seen me!  Scotty had this stupidly immature habit of changing my ringtone to something cheesy without my knowledge. He’d done it since high-school. Dancing Queen by ABBA fills the darkness and echoes like a hymn in the steel walled basement. Amongst it I hear the click of a gun being loaded. Fast footsteps descend groaning stairs back into the basement. I skid out from my hiding place and make for the stairs. The Thunderous sound of a gunshot, splintering the wooden walls that lined the stairs booms behind me. The metal door was open. 

Fuck!

The entire downstairs of the house was bathed in the golden glow of fire. It had crept up the sprawling staircase, the ceiling, crackling, spluttering white-hot sparks. I can hear him racing up the stairs behind me as I make for the front door, when a burning mass of timber falls from the top of the house, blocking my path.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I turn around. I know I’ve run out of options. He’s about 6 ft 2. Earpiece. Shades. Black suit. He’s pointing his gun at my head. He fires without hesitation. 

An unknown force pushes me to the rotten carpet, landing on top of me as a bullet blasts the burning wood behind me.I turn to my right. A man in a black gas mask is sitting up next to me. Wearing only jeans, bare feet. The reflection of the flames are sweat splattered on his bare chest, his muscled body. He’s pointing a shotgun at Shades. He fires and his head blooms into this burst of claret amongst the intense orange radiance. As the shot hits my ears, as I see Shades, sans most of his head, fall to the floor. Gasmask looks at me, I can only see reflected fire in the spheres of glass:

“Lakeview” His voice is muffled, deep.

Wait. What? I hear cars approaching. Lots of cars. He takes my hand and we climb out of a window. The forest beyond is covered in bursts of sweeping torch lights, cars are skidding onto the driveway. I follow him though the forest. We run for an hour silently, barely resting. The hum of the helicopter that had started to circle the perimeter of the house now a distant buzz. I couldn’t run anymore. My legs buckle underneath me, my knees falling to the dirt. An old sign above me:

Lakeview Summer Camp

A collection of small buildings are barely visable beyond it. Gas mask grabs my shoulder:

“We've  got to keep moving”

It was a shithole before it was condemned. It had closed in the 70s. Rickety wooden shacks, a dilapidated jetty stretching into blackness. Jason Vorhees eat your heart out. We find the least ruined of the shacks, Gasmask breaks a padlock with a heavy slam of the stock of his shotgun. There’s a desk, two sets of bunks. A dirty mattress and litter on the floor. I pull some filthy bedding from one of the bunks and cover the window. Gasmask lights two half melted candles in empty beer bottles on the desk. I turn as he pulls the mask over his head.

“Scotty!”

I pull him into the deepest hug I’ve ever given anybody.

“You OK?” he asks

“Yeah. Yeah I think so. How’d you......?”

“I was digging this out from the cellar at home” He holds up his mask. 

Scotty’s Dad was a keen collector of WWII paraphernalia. A single tear dripples over his cheek, hangs from his chin but his voice is unbroken, his resolve strong:

“I heard gunshots upstairs. I think they killed Dad. Mom’s in the City but I think they got him. I grabbed my Dads gun and ran to your place but they were already there. I knew if I’d worked out that we’d been exposed to some sort of gas that you’d be five steps ahead. Will I couldn’t lose you too”

I realise I hadn’t let go of his hips from hugging him. His eyes are the coolest green. I’m lost in them, lost in the relief of seeing him. A charge passes between us.

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Will. I know you wouldn’t have touched me through choice, I know you want better some than some booze-hound loser like me I just...”

I wipe a fresh tear from his face trying not to cry myself and lean in to kiss him. His tongue is hot and slow. It curls and folds into mine. His body is bruised, so I’m gentle. Were shaking with anticipation, nerves. I could feel in him the fear of rejection, Scotty had never been one to allow himself to be exposed or vulnerable. It was the same thing I felt around him for years; A need to tell him how I felt combined with a sense of dread that he wouldn’t feel the same. 

As the kiss deepens our guards fall. He’s grieving, were in this horrifying situation this should be the last thing on our minds but it feels so necessary; a need that can’t wait. We’re on the floor. It was intense, electric....fuck beyond electric it sizzled with a lust, an aged desire that had laid dormant for way too long, for both of us. Every time I had hated him, every time I had wanted him, longed for him leant this history to what was happening between us;  Hell, he’d held me together when my parents died, I’d burned with jealousy when he’d take off from a party with some dumb blonde, mourned the chance of us being anything other than friends, brothers and now....Now his eyes are deep in mine, his impatience in undressing me leads to him just ripping the buttons from my shirt before wrapping his sweaty hands in mine and pinning me to the wall. He leans in to my face, his sweet breath fills my open mouth 

“You sure?”

“I’m sure” 

We start to kiss. Soon his hot tongue is on my neck, his hands are everywhere, our rock hard boners pressing into each other through our clothes. I undo his belt as he grasps at the buttons on my shorts. I reach in and feel his dick through his pants, feel it throbbing as his jeans fall to the floor. I’d never been kissed with such focused lust, his kisses deep and increasingly urgent. His tounge is darting over my neck , my breastbone. When it reaches my nipples, when I feel it seductively slither and curl over them I wince in ecstasy:

“Mmmmm”

“You like that?"

"Mmmmm yeah" 

I slide his boxers over his clammy hips and take a pert cheek in each hand as they descend to his ankles. A million teen fantasies come true as I squish his tender rump into my palms, he pushes his ass into them, wanting more. I fall to my knees and take his cock in my hand, looking up into his eyes, and slowly extend my tongue to his helmet taking the slowest, sloppiest lick. Then after a second another. He tasted so good, hard and trembling on my tongue.

“Ohhhhh, Will, Yeaaahh”He was steel in my grip now, I took one final long-ass lick before I started to suck hands free. I was gentle at first, running my hands over his furry thighs, around his body to his smooth ass with each palm gently motioning his body into my mouth. We built a soft rhythm that began to become agressive, raw. Soon he was skull fucking me against the wall, balls deep as each ram pushed his oozing cock into my grateful mouth. He withdrew a little and let the tip rest on my lower lip, he took a hand and teased it across the surface, back and forth, letting me give tiny, darting licks as he did so. He gazes down at me.

“I wanted our first time, if we ever had a first time to be....”

“Our choice?”

“Yeah....our choice. I love you Will” 

“I love you too“ 

Something broke in me. I’d yearned for this for so long.I rise and run my hands over his ridiculous pecs, firm and bouncy under clammy palms. I lean into his mouth.

“Fuck me, Scotty” I say it into his deep-green eyes, his cherry- cola breath, feel him slide my pants over my boner so it rests, stickily on his: “I want you inside me” 

“Yeah, Baby?” He grabs me by the hips and pulls me into him. My hands are on his butt, running over his sweat slicked back. His are on my chest, toying, teasing my nipples then grabbing my ass pulling me into him. He’s untamed, completely lost in this weird burst of ecstasy we’d created in this mess. Suddenly he turns me against the wall, bending down behind me I feel the tip of his tongue squeeze between my cheeks before delicately resting on my hole.

“Mmmmmm, Scotty” 

He lets it slither deliberately as I groan and whimper before fiercely, without warning, pulling my cheeks apart and consuming me, he lets a firm tongue move in an out of me before just going crazy: With each slurp, each dive of his tongue I felt myself edge closer to bliss, thrusting my pert ass into his ravenous mouth.

“Ahhhhhhmmmm” He took a finally lick and used my hips as leverage to pull himself up behind me, I feel his dripping dick tease my ass, before sliding it into me.

“Ahhhhhhhhmmmmmm, Scotty” His hands leave my Hips. One glides to my chest, whilst another creeps over my abs, and through my public hair. He builds to a energetic pace in seconds, thrusting, slamming me into the decaying wall, his smooth nuts clapping my ass with each brutal pound.

“Feels sooo gooood to be in you, Will” his fingers start to grab and tug at my nipples as his other hand grabs my rigid cock, smearing globs of my pre-jizz into its tightening grip. 

“Mmmmm yeah fuck me....Mmmm.. ahh.. mmmmm. ...ahhhm... ahhhhmm”

He’s like a mechanical toy, pounding me without pause or rest as I open wide and push back into him, again resting a palm on his ass to encourage him, seduce him deeper, harder into me as his hand replicates his pounding by roughly wanking my length to the same intense pattern.

“Ahhhh Ahhhh AHHHMMM Ohhh Scotty, Fuck Yeah mmmmm”

“Yeah Baby? Yeah?”

“Ahh Scotty I’m...I’m gonna cum”

“You want me to cum in you, baby?”

“I....I... wanna taste it Ahmmmmm Ohhhh”

His sticky hand starts to bring me to the most amazing climax. I rise my arms over me and reach back to grab the back of his head. My body feels like a part of his as his wet body grinds every inch of himself into me, I’m unsure of where my pleasure starts and his ends. I start to pant as I cum, the pleasure intensified by Scotty’s unrelenting, animal fucking, my fingers running through his hair. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

My load hits the wall, drools over his fingers. He slows, turns me back from the wall and I, again topple to my knees. His cock is possessed, twitching wildly and glistening in the candlelight. He places it onto my lip again and I prepare to suck him but a huge load of cum splodges into my mouth, flooding my tongue, trickling down my throat and dripping from its edges onto the floor. I look up into his beautiful eyes and tangle my tongue over his helmet. His hand is brushing my wet hair from my forehead, he’s looking at me, into me. 

“You like?”

“I mean...it was OK”

“Fuck you bro” He grins, pushing me to the mattress behind me and bouncing down alongside me, pulling me in for a deep, purposeful kiss.

“I fucking love you Scotty. I fucking loved you for so fucking long”

“I love you too and if you’ll have me we have a whole lifetime to do.... what we just did, but Will we’ve got to get out of town”

“Where?” I say glumly. 

He stands up and turns to answer me as I begin to pull on my jeans and T, grab my bag from the floor.

The first gunshot hit his upper chest, spitting a ream of deep red blood onto my face. I don’t see where the second hit. Just saw his muscular body spasm as it impacts, dropping him to the floor. With that the wall at the far end of the cabin explodes in a burst of orange before more shades start to advance to the flaming opening from outside. I run to Scotty and try to pull him up. A band of claret is seeping from his mouth.

“Go” He says quietly, locking eyes with me from the floor, gargling on blood.

“Oh my God, Scotty get the fuck up NOW” I know he couldn’t as I continued to pull.

“Go” he whispers again “Otherwise they kill both of us. I love you Will, now GO!!!!” My eyes flash in desperate panic.

“GO!!!!!!” He roars.

Before I turned and leapt through the window, before I look at Scotty for one final time I looked to the agents advancing toward the flames. The were flanked by two tall men in matching metal masks with these bizarre pointed appendages . I thought they were wearing high gloves and boots at first but their lower arms and legs were encased in individual strands of steel fixed together. They were completely naked aside from the steel plague type masks they wore, huge erect, dripping cocks convulsing and twitching in the glow of fire as they gained ground on us. 

Leaving Scotty was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but he was right; One of us had to try to escape this nightmare.

The woods were never ending.  By the time I reached the road my feet were bloodied, my spirit, my hope was all but gone. I just fall to my knees beside it, tears streaming over my dirt stained face. I hear the hum of a motor bike. Its them. I know it is and I don’t care. I’m tired of running. I just want Scotty. I know the distant explosions beyond the wood behind me were Lakeview being 'cleansed'. I wondered if they’d just left Scotty there to burn as grief and exhaustion consume every fibre of me. 

I’d barely noticed that the bike had slowed to a halt beside me. Its driver was a man in jeans and a vest. Mid to late 50s, his lower face covered in thick silver stubble, an eye patch conceals his right eye: 

“Come with me if you want to live”

He reaches a leather gloved hand to me. It takes me a minute but eventually I find myself reaching back for it in the darkness.