Date: Fri, 17 Jan 2003 11:01:12 -0600
From: Michael Yost <myost@charter.net>
Subject: Real World Chapter 38

"As I told Emil," Michael said cautiously, "Pete's and Josh is his and now all
of yours to do with as you desire.  The game rules have changed. We have more
players.  All of you can make Josh and Pete your victims.  I could careless how
you do it. Get Pete ad Josh drunk on blood mixed with Bella Donna. Get Pete and
Josh to see visions on peyote smoke. Destroy them with decadence, favoritism,
scorn. and jealousy. Spread your disease. And when they have died to each other.
You will abandon  Pete's remains for me to take care of."

"And the price the same price you offered Emil," Ovid said relaxing, smiling at
Emil's over reaction of a display of embarrassment, "I overheard you little
rendezvous with Emil to betray me."

"Yes, the deal is the same.  I will give my blood to the coven master.  And
might I add I'm glad my blood is going into a more intelligent vessel than Emil
who had the bad taste to allow us to be overheard.  I had no designs on you life
Ovid.  Once Emil had the blood your fate was up to him and not me," Michael said
smoothly, "All and all, Pete is still going to be making decisions on his own.
There is nothing wrong with our applying a little persuasion on him is there?
And here I thought you realty cared about him otherwise I would have went
directly to you."


"Cared about Pete? Lay your suspicions to rest.  No,  there isn't anything wrong
about using our persuasion.  After Josh and Pete are broken up you needn't have
Emil here carry out  my accidental death to free Pete for you,  or to have Emil
plan my exile with Pete as my partner.  What were you planing for me Emil?" Ovid
said mockingly.

"I thought of death.  After all Ovid with enough of Michael's blood I could set
you aflame.  Ah, wouldn't Michael like that?  Pete, the bereaved widower
abandoned by his lover Josh, his true love Ovid dead.  Poor Pete so ripe to be
consoled.  On the other hand,  beings we go so far back I did  think of throwing
you and Pete  out of the coven. Two lovers for all eternity.  Michael  having
the consolation of knowing at least Josh lost too. Oh, my beloved Ovid.  Think
of it.  Lena and I would  never have seen you again either way," Emil laughed.

"No  need go to such extremes."  Ovid said greedily taking up Michael's wrist.
"After Pete and Josh are broke up, I'll dump Pete and throw him out of our
coven. Michael your runaway bitch will be humbled. Tail between his legs."
Ovid's head went light. The taste and scent of Michael pressing  against his
thirsty mouth.

Coldly withdrawing his wrist from Ovid's lips, Michael said, "When Pete is free
of Josh only than  may you  taste my blood Ovid."

"And what if I want to do more Michael? What if I want to touch, fuck, and be
tasted myself?  What if I want to fuck you Michael?" Ovid said putting his hand
to Michael's throat caressing it with his fingers.

"Have a care little boy," Michael growled.

"Deals off," Ovid laughed.

"You imprudent little slut.  You push my boundaries too hard," Michael said
menacingly.

"Share and share alike," Emil laughed "Ovid lied to you Michael. He didn't
overhear our  plot against him.  I told him what you offered me word for word
Do you think I would keep a pretty man like you from my brethren?  Keep the
opportunity to taste you away from my coven?"

"There isn't any real leader to our coven, "Lena said, putting her fingers to
Michael's lips, pushing her forefinger into his mouth, gashing it against his
fang, giving Michael a  taste of herself, "We told you all Ovid was our leader
only so Ovid could  impress Pete and his coven.  We all intended to enjoy Pete
after Ovid had the first pleasure. We want you, Michael. We will deliver Pete to
you damaged, destroyed, and heartbroken.   By the time we're done with the
lovely couple they will be nothing but hurt and humiliation between them.  And
all we ask Michael is you. For each of us a  stunning night of feasting and
fucking you. We cannot  completely promise Pete will freely turn to you. We can
promise  we'll do our best to get Pete to  turn on Josh and Josh to turn of
him."

"We're dangling in front of your dazzled eyes what you desire the most," Emil
said quietly.

"And all we ask is only  for a little more blood, a little more from you,
beautiful Michael," Ovid said.

Grinning wolfishly at him, the three of them circled around Michael.

"You three are welcome to the blood and the blood only,' Michael said coldly,
"No mind control is to be used on Josh and Pete.  Use their insecurities against
them, and their fears.  I suspect mind control, and not one drop of my blood
will any of you get."

"Agreed.. I hope it is I who will be the first  to enjoy Josh's favors," Lena
smirked.

"That will destroy Pete," Ovid approved. "Get Josh drunk on our night walker
blood mixed with whiskey and cocaine.  Emil get Josh to believe Pete is sleeping
with me,"  Ovid said, "I will make sure he suspects Pete."

"Lena and I  would have better luck at seducing Josh in a twosome.  We'll make
sure to set the ground work of making him insecure about Pete. Subtle insults,
hints,  put downs.  Then Lena and I will fake sympathy for  poor  Josh.  Pete is
too mild, too passive to protect Josh.

Ovid said with a hint of regret in his voice, "Their pride will keep them from
going to their protectors."

Ovid put his arm around Michael.  The beat of Michael's cold heart rich with
fist brood blood and his own powerful blood  tantalizing away any guilt he was
feeling.  Licking Michael's neck, Ovid whispered, "Victim of ours your desires
and our desires will be met."

"Do not try to tempt anyone in our coven again by going behind our backs," Lena
hissed, taking a knife from her pocket and slicing her wrist. Emil and Ovid did
the same with their wrists.  Smearing their  blood together on a napkin. Lena
then gave the napkin to Michael.

Solemnly cutting his wrist, Michael's blood joined theirs.

"And now," Ovid said.  furiously he slapped Michael's  face.

A tear of Michael's  mingled with the blood.

"Swear to us," Emil whispered "We are forever under our protection even after
we've broken  Pete's spirit and resolve to love a sun walker."

"You have my word," Michael said sullenly, rubbing his stinging face.

"No, we have your balls," Lena laughed.

"From almost the beginning of Pete's  immortal life I protected him  from
reality. Let Pete's disillusionment in a night walkers' life begin," Michael
said coldly.

Michael left their jeering laughter, feeling like he sold Pete's and Josh's
souls to hell, not to mention his own troubled, thirsty  soul.

Heading quickly to where he left his victim's body, Christov stopped stunned.

Detective Mayes gloved hands was  feeling the wrist of the cold corpse on the
ground, shining his small flash light into its face.

"Christov," he mumbled, catching Christov's face in the flashlight's glare.

Pulling out his police revolver he cocked it.

"No, I'm Ken. Remember Ken Doll," Christov said sardonically, "What did you find
a dead wino?"

"Mayes took out a knife from the corpse he had plunged into it,  "Nice of you to
make this convenient for me bitch.  Showing up at the scene of your crime. I was
going to say I stopped you from taking the corpse away to cut up into pieces.
That you ran away.   Now I can make sure your prints are all over the murder
weapon."

"What are you talking about? You were going to  set me up with a corpse you
found?" Christov cried, "Set me up for murder!  I'm not Christov! You fool!"

A bullet slashed through Christov's chest, then another ran through his groin
Staggering backwards Christov put his head under his arms, breaking out into a
run.

Running to his sedan  to call for back up,  Mayers yelled into  the police
radio, "I just saw a guy stab another guy.  His name is Christov. I shot him
when he took off running. I must have missed.  I don't see how I did.  He has to
be at least wounded. I'm giving chase,."  Mayers gasped. The cord to his police
radio had been cut.

A force stronger than death grabbed the detective from behind, carrying the
struggling detective and the corpse into an abandoned building.

Mayers was placed against a cross beam..  Nails were pounded into the man's
palms. A bloody rag was forced into his screaming mouth.  He heard a ripping
sound. His stomach's skin hung loosely down.  A sheet of blood was pouring down
his legs.

Still running away, Christov zigzagged   thinking he was sill being hunted by
Mayers.

Rough hands clasped themselves over his mouth.  Struggling against the demon,
pinning him against the wall, Christov pushed the monster away.   Christov
yelled, "Will you get your stupid hand off of me Michael."

"You left a corpse for anyone to find. You moron," Michael yelled in his face.

"I had it hidden behind a dumpster.  Michael you are being such a bitch about
this. I healed the puncture wounds on his throat before we left for the
restaurant.  He was a homeless wino. Winos die every night. Smell me. Don't I
smell like a wino?

Pushing a now healed Christov forwards, Michael cursed, "You shouldn't  have
come back to your kill.  What's the matter with you?"

"I, I," Christov  babbled  "I wasn't sure if I actually healed the puncture
wound. I was distraught about Pete leaving."

"You shouldn't have ran away!  You should have killed him!"

"I was surprised." Christov cried, "I wasn't sure if he was the only mortal
around. So I ran!"

"When I saw what was happening in your mind I  flew to kill him  but he was
already gone.   Your picture,  your description is going to be on the news. In
newspapers. How could you have been so stupid?" Michael said sourly, holding his
shoulders,  "I have every right to kill you."

"I know, " Christov said, making an  attempt to bite Michael hands.

"You stay put.  Don't move, don't breathe. I'm going back to access the damage.
If you so much as take  a step out of this spot I will tear you slowly to
pieces."

"Fine," Christov smirked.

Michael went swiftly to where the corpse lay, fully expecting the wails of
ambulances and the  flaming  lights of police cars. To his surprise there was
neither.  Not even a body was in the alley.  The only thing which remotely
hinted at a killing having taken place was a pool of Christov's blood already
soaked into the ground.  Mayer's car was abandoned. Already street people were
casing it plunder. Waiting to see if it was safe to strip it down.

Michael went over and shut the sedan's door.  Disappearing quickly into the
sky,  too fast for mortal eyes to witness his moving from the car, he flew to
where he left Christov. Not surprisingly there was no Christov

Flying over head, looking for anything suspicious, Michael landed on some
freshly turned up earth.  Grumbling, he dug into the ground. Gasping, Michael
discovered  putrefying dead dog.

"Man's best friend," Christov jibed behind him, "Didn't  you smell it you freak
before you dug it up?"

"I started digging too fast before I noticed the smell, cunt," Michael snarled.

"So what's the deal," Christov said, "You going to ice me big boy?"

"I should for the sheer pleasure of it alone," Michael said wiping his hands on
Christov naked chest.

"He was going to set me up,'" Christov said coolly, "That jack off of a cop
found the body and he was going to make it look like I killed him by knifing
him.    He even shot at me.  He tried to murder me.    All these years he's
carried such a grudge against me he was willing, no anticipating the night he
could kill me after I left him. Even through he should have thought it to be
impossible that  I was really me he couldn't accept a lie which made more sense
than the truth.  Lies, truth, what did it matter? He was totally insane.  And
the poets they call it love."


"I guess your friend  Henri saved your ass.  The body, Mayers, everything is
gone."

"So your have no reason to kill me after all?" Christov smiled, fluttering his
false eyes lash at him.

"You owe your friend Henri you know," Michael said woodenly, "That's what the
poets call love."

Feeling shaky, Christov's feet almost slid out from under him, thinking, Mayers
would have done it. If I hadn't have kept on sleeping with him, he would have
put  me in jail.   I was all wrong about Mayers. Or worse he might have even
killed me.  All these years I've been blaming Henri for him being used against
me  in Mayer's blackmail of me. It wasn't really Henri's fault.  Henri or not,
Mayers still had me by the short hairs. I just didn't want to admit the truth to
myself.  I  deluded myself into using my protection of Henri for the reason
Mayers trapped a touch guy like me.  If anything Henri saved me again, and, and
the poets they call it love. He loves me? Me? No. Not loves me, like in love
Does he?

"Christov you don't look too well," Michael worried.

"I'm fine, I'm OK," Christov said sliding onto  the ground, burying his head in
his arms, saying " Michael he loves me as a friend only a friend. He doesn't,
he's not in love with me."

Looking up at Michael, Christov growled, "What the hell were you doing in my
mind?"

"Christov,"  Michael said putting his hand to his shoulder, feeling guilty,
thinking, What am I doing?  I can't justify hurting Pete out of love.  I can't
even justify hurting Josh, neither of them deserve it.

"I, " Michael  swallowed, "I wanted to see how you felt about Pete leaving.
Tell Pete not to go to Paris. Take him home, immediately. This coven it can't
be  trusted. Things could get out of hand. He and Josh could get hurt."

tbc