Fuck 1.3

'Keante… Do not hesitate. Behold such a feckless monstrous creature.'

So this is what you are? Or is this what you choose to be? No. This is who you are, and who you are is perfect alone in itself.

'Keante…This boy is merely a child. A tool. A means to end. Desecrate his existence for your own gain.'

I… don't care. You may be this, but it does not matter...

'Keante… This abomination, it is yours to control. Your slave to command. Let your dominance silence its identity. It is yours to ensnare.'

I want you. I love you.

...

Keante. The Darker One.

Keante. The dreamer. The dream state.

Keante. The Master. The proprietor.

Keante. The Puppet. The unsuspecting.

But was that truly the reality of what was this existence in which they were both conjoined? Or, was this merely an illusion of the latter's inner subconscious, playing and toying with the internal infirmities that made up the material construct that was his mind?

In the end, it did not matter.

At least, not now.

For in this instance, their thoughts hummed in unison as the last statement echoed within this subspace, vibrating at an equilibrium that only strengthened their resolve and merged their identities into a singular cohesive being.

'He is a monster.'

'He is a tool. A means to an end.'

'He is a child.'

'Just look at him...'

He was young, younger than Keante. He couldn't more than 13 or 14 at the most. If Keante stood next to him, the boy would barely come up to his chest. He was so small. The boy was thinner than Keante, but there was something sexy about it, like it worked only for him. His eyes were closed, mouth half-open, lips parted, taking in air like a steady marathon runner. And the whole time Keante looked down on him, he couldn't help but feel that the child was beautiful in every aspect and definition of the word. Beautiful.

While his head was low, his features were faded out, almost in discernable in the light. The lack of color making it hard to see his hair, or other noteworthy details. Then the light grew brighter, and his features disappeared as he became a she once again. She lifted her head, and the two became parallel facing each other directly.

He looks so beautiful.

He looks so…

So. Real.

He opened his eyes, locking them with Keante's own. They were two, but they were never two. They were one. And for a while, neither of them spoke, until he held his face and said softly whispered two words.

"Save me", he said.

Wait. What?

The words caught him off-guard. Before he could reply he—

Grrraaahhhhwwwwrrrrr!

At that moment, a long bellow echoed in the void. It was young and filled with emotion, followed by a softer whimper. It took a second before Keante realized that it was coming himself. His climax had come, but it frightened him. The bellow itself, it wasn't human!

It wasn't even close to anything resembling a living human being; it was more like a roar than a yell. Like an animal. The roar deafened his ears and drowned out his faculties, and as he recovered, he looked back at the boy. The boy was crying, trembling immensely beneath him, his body misting and his eyes wide open.

Keante's spine tingled with a hidden fear.

Those eyes. Those terrible, horrible eyes.

Keante could stare at them for an eternity and still become lost in their mystery.

Those eyes, those deep blue eyes.

Tears were streaking down his face, with a looked of painful resign.

"Babe", he started concern and worry written all over his face, "babe what's wr—"

He was cut off mid-sentence, and would never get a chance to ask it again.

'Foolish boy.'

'Now you shall see the truth in your folly.'

'Behold.'

The world winked out of existence as a sudden burst of air slit the bond between them, and threw Keante away as the boy was pulled into deep space. Keante yelled, pulled into what seemed like a fiery oblivion before crashing through what looked like a glass ceiling and then a marble floor. The slam nearly broke his jaw and several bones, but the majority of the pain came from his back. Before he could react, Keante was ripped upright from the floor, and in a whirlwind was chained down and forced to look up through the broken ceiling as his love was dragged through all of creation into an unknown world.

Held down and kept from moving, Keante could only watch as the boy was jerked and shaken by an unseen force, like being thrown about by gravity itself. The boy remained in the air for what seemed like eternity, until finally breaking space before impact. The crater the boy should've made would've been massive, but instead he was smacked onto the ground like a ragdoll. The force of the impact was intense, and the area around the boy smoked and hissed, choking the air around him with thick dust and tendrils of darkness. He was weak, and tiny fires sprung up and dissipated around him. The boy's bright light began to flicker, growing fainter and dimmer with each spurt. His light was fading.

He lay there on a dirty back end of a walled off alley between two dumpsters and a series of overstuffed trashcans. There was no color, only black and white and gray. There were no clouds, but a calm wind that rustled the long thin braids that made up his hair. His fading light made his features easier to see. It was more than obvious she wasn't a she, she was really a he.

And yet…

He felt so… right.

He lay down on the pavement, white light radiating from his skin against a blackish gray backdrop. The white that was once so bright it faded out his entire face, was now flickering and smudged with flecks of gray and faded puffs of black. His body still shone brightly, but not enough, leaving only the silhouette of his face and eyes visible. The sliver in his chest, the galaxy that resided in him was dying. The tendrils of darkness wafting in the alley began to snake the air before seeping into the nebulae and stars of the pocket universe, tainting and corrupting each microcosm as it slithered its way into his core. Until the sliver closed itself completely, but by then the darkness had already consumed much of the life within the boy's chest, causing the skin around the sliver to crackle and putrefy with an oily blackness as the veins and arteries became corrupted as well.

The boy did nothing to stop them. He was still awake, still aware. His eyes were wide open and unflinching; unmoving.

His eyes…

Those eyes…

Those weren't normal eyes…

They were the only color on his face, shining like blue diamonds; they were rich and deep in color, dangerously enough they could consume the viewer if they wanted too. A large crackle howl reverberated from the around the alley, and thunder rumbled. A second later, lightning flashed in the sky, and white clouds appeared moving rapidly. The sky was a bright crimson, and the air smelled like blood.

Gasp!