Mukuneiu 4: Cinders
Introduction:
After nearly a month of stress, here it is, installment number four!
—–“It’s… so amazing, Erika.” Adra said, her eyes half-filled with tears of joy, her voice soft and angellic. “Not nearly as amazing as you, my darling. Besides, I figured it was good time to have a nice dinner out with you like this, after all, we did just move in together.” The voice that soothed her was so peaceful and loving, suiting the loving arms that bound her close. She was in Heaven. Perhaps it was not a fairy-tale world, and perhaps it was not paradise, but for now there was nothing more she could have asked for, nor could she have wanted. Erika walked his beloved hand-in-hand to the nicely set table that over-looked the water, pulled out her chair for her to sit in, and took his own. The two of them dined together on the, so far, most blissful night of their lives. Exactly one year after their first time making love.
~
—–The eyes which gazed to his were dark and heavy, sinister in their chilling grasp on his soul. He felt the long strands of hair which cascaded from his scalp softly lay across his face as the chilling breeze crossed over, and removed them from his eye-sight. The figure slowly moved forward, coming closer and closer, and with a gentle touch it placed the tip of a small metal object on his shirt and ran it down the center like a zipper. As the object travelled on Lendon released a faint wincing, and as the shirt fell open, revealing the long, freshly cut streak on his torso, the item disappeared. Blood gently trickled down from the thin gash, and he knew that it was only a test of his loyalty. The grinning lips of the dark figure softly pressed to his lips, and as they did he felt his heart sink into their shadowy prison. His eyes grew heavy and glazed over, and the pain in his chest dissolved into a comforting euphoria.
—–Lendon felt his heart pumping, thrusting warm blood through his veins with every passing second. His toned legs pressed fiercely against the autumn ground of the forest, crunching the dry leaves beneath him. Ahead of him his dead eyes locked firmly onto the small figure, darting rapidly through the dying trees, lined in the orange glow of the sky. Reaching out he could feel the presence of his target and closed his hand, but to his misfortune felt only air whisp through his fingers. Again he lashed out, reaching for the lacy blouse which bound the slim figure’s torso and barely grazed the fabric. No use, they were simply too fast. He pushed himself harder, feeling a surge of pain dark up through his calves and knees, and as he reached out once more he yelped as he sprang his left ankle. Tumbling to the ground, the bits of crumbled leaves clinging to his dark clothes, he struggled to return to his feet, and sticking through the pain managed to once again begin after the target, but it was still no good; Azrael Garbyn had escaped.
~
—–The murmur of peers rose above the air as Adra and Erika took seats in the Psychology room of the college; the only class they shared. They smiled at each other lovingly, wound their fingers tightly with one anothers, and gently kissed. Thats when Adra noticed something. Up in the corner of the room sat a small girl in clothing that resembled the old Victorian age. All though Adra loved the attire, something about the girl’s expression bothered her. “Hey… who’s that?” Adra asked her lover, pointing up towards the one she had noticed. “That’s Azrael Garbyn, why?” Her eyes widened somewhat, and as she looked back towards the sorrowful figure she spoke in a somewhat suprised tone, “Wow… that’s a guy?” “Yeah, he gets a lot of shit for being a transvestite, but he’s actually a pretty fun person to hang out with.” he smiled softly and squeezed her hand tighter. “Well, you’ve never exactly been the most homophobic person, ‘Erika’.” She giggled softly, and Erika could only smile. “Hey, he’s not even gay. I think he might be bi but he doesn’t seem too interested in guys.” Adra’s eyes, all though somewhat playful, widened a bit. “I don’t even want to know how you know that.” Something in her voice seemed to make her statement seem almost like a question. “Hey, I didn’t do anything with him, but I’ve hung out with him a few times and talked about it. He’s a fun guy.” “He looks sad, though… We should go talk to him.” Erika smiled as he listened to her words. She was a very loving person, even though she dressed like something out of a heavy metal band, and that’s one of the reasons he loved her.
—–Hurrying up to where Azrael sat, not much carrying how far behind her boyfriend was, Adra quickly took the seat next to the boy which had so brilliantly peaked her interests. “Hi! I’m Adra.” At first, she was given no response, but when Erika reached the top of the steps and Azrael saw him, he seemed to grow more comfortable. “I’m… Azrael. Are you two friends?” Adra giggled softly and pulled Erika into the seat on the opposite side of her, taking his hand and kissing him softly. “We’re a bit more than friends, so you two have met before?” “Yeah, we’ve talked a few times, I guess I just felt comfortable around him since he had a feminine name, I figured he had to be comfortable with me being how I was.” Azrael gave a small smile, but his eyes still bothered the caring girl. “Yeah, he doesn’t really judge many people, he thinks it’s for idiots. You wanna hang out with us later tonight?” Azrael’s eyes raised up and, for a moment, didn’t seem at all sad, but soon clouded in dread. “I’m sorry… I’d love to but I really can’t.” Adra knew there was more to it, but didn’t want to press him. After all, she had only just met the guy. “All right, but do you mind if we sit next to you today?” She was smiling, and didn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer. Giving up any hopes of a resistance, Azrael Garbyn softly nodded his head.
~
—–“He seems nice, you were right. It sucks that people have to pick on him like that.” Adra seemed bothered, but happy. “Yeah, it’s really irritating how some people can be so judgemental about things. How about this, I promise you, if at all possible, I’ll get him to hang out with us before the week is out. All right?” His words were so caring, and his love was so strong she could almost see it. With a delighted smile she leaned forward and softly kissed his lips. “Thank you, baby.”
~
—–“Hey, thought you could get away? You knew I’d be back for you, right?” Lendon’s eyes were no longer as dead as they had normally been, but the look in them was colder than ice, and chilled Azrael’s soul. “N-no, of course I knew you were coming! I just… had to get somewhere earlier, that’s all.” His voice was timid and broken, he was scared, and Lendon knew it. “Listen you little shit, I twisted my god damned ankle chasing after your sorry ass! If you do it again I’ll rip your dick out of your ass and make you into a real bitch! Got that?” As the angry words stung at him Azrael winced, trying his best to resist the tears which began to drip from his eyes. He nodded understandingly, and sighed deeply.
—–The pain in his arms burned through his joints as he felt them strike the hard floor, but he didn’t make a sound. The dark hand of the figure softly slid Azrael’s lacy skirt over his hips and exposed his small ass. Pulling the thin, red panties down his thighs slowly, the dark figure grinned coldly. Slowly tears began to drip down from his eyes and long his nose, crashing to the ground when they fell. Gripping his fingertips firmly onto the ground he let out a deep, throated groan, and forcively two sharply tipped fingers pushed up inside him.
—–After his ass was played with for several long minutes he began to relax, only to be thrown onto his back in an agonizing toss. The dark one’s two icy hands grasped firmly at his blouse and began to tear the fabric away, exposing his nearly nude form. He tried to hide his tears as the sharp nails slide along his flesh, softly piercing down through the skin and drew blood. Azrael knew it to be a mistake to scream, so he simply bit down on his bottom lip and felt as the claw-like fingers began to slice at his flesh, cutting deeply into him and causing him to bleed.
—–Gash after gash came over his skin, and he felt the warm oozing nectar coat his flesh. This was a standard day in his life, not that anybody in the outside world would have ever known. He did best to cover his injuries, and succeeded quite well, whether it was his attempts to conseal the scars, or perhaps his fellow peers simply ignoring him. And yet, as his body began to tear, and the pain began to rake through him, a strange feeling overcame him, a sense of relaxation, a deep warmth; euphoria. He felt the gentle, yet hungry lips of the dark one grace his skin, sliding its dark tongue across the gashes, along his slender figure, and around his pubic region. The soft touch of two fingers harmlessly graced the length of his erection, and as he began to feel at peace he let out a deep, bellowed howl. A long, razor nail plunged itself deeply into the under-base of his shaft, severing several nerves and causing blood to pour down across his balls, slowly dripping.
—–Azrael laid there a moment, his mind reeling for an answer as to what just took place. As he felt the cold fingers of the dark one slowly glide along the shaft of his mindlessly sore penis, causing blood to pump from the opening in the swollen base, he began to dig his nails roughly against the surface upon which he was presented. He knew that the gradual pumping was his punishment for crying out, but he could not resist, and once more agonizingly bellowed across the area, tears streaking his face slowly, coating his cheeks in a thin, watery glaze.
—–The air surrounding the small cabin was chilled from the night, silent and calm, and as the winds bound and whisped under the twinkle of the silver stars the tranquility was broken by a howl. The youthful Azrael lay broken and mistreaten upon his forsaken pedestal, stiff and swollen, with streaks of filths so vile that they dare not be spoken of, nor did he wish to think of, just as he had on so many nights before-hand. The corner sockets of his tilted head, which press reliant to the hard surface, grew chap with the dampness of his salty tears, and the tips of his fingernails seeped a trace of red-liquid from beneath the chipped and worn tissue, caused by his now weak, limp arms which lay at his sides having only moments ago been tense to fiercely with his anguish. His lips were dry, chafe, and his eyes felt all too similar. The sunken, dark section just surrounding his eyelids felt deeply bruised, and as painfully as he desired to moisten his eyes with a blink, he knew that doing so would send him reeling into a pain which he was not prepared to confront; at least just yet.
—–Vision, as it had been so many times before, was blurred in a fashion that could only be described as a deep haze, and he felt his heart pounding frantically within his rib-cage. The young boy could no longer force himself into movement, and when he attempted to muster strength into his tormented muscles just so fitting as to shift his weight a sharp pain volted through his nerves. This had happened all too often, and yet, every night it only seemed to grow monsterously, there was no relief. Sadly enough, and with as much discomfort as he proved to be in, the fade of his vision had not so blinded him as to lose sight of the dark figure once again approaching.
—–This night was not over, nor would it be for a great deal of time.
~
—–A heavy clash of oak filled the unkempt room with a clatter to suit its appearance. Strewn across the floor could be seen a array of wrinkled clothing in heaps. The firm mattress of the queen-sized bed pushed forcively down into the bed springs, and gasps from deep within the throat emerged above it all as the most audible sound.
—–Her lightly tanned hips churned downward towards the groin supplying her pleasure, and as her fingernails gently pressed into the muscled flesh of Lendon’s firm figure, she could tell it would turn out to be a good night. She felt the firm, yet gentle touch of his hands’ grasp rest upon her thighs, guiding her motions, and the sturdy, well-developed object intruding within her wedged her giving, womanly tissues wide. For the reputation he recieved, it seemed as though rumours weren’t always incorrect, he was well hung, and had terrific stamina. If she enjoyed the ravishing thrills of her first moments of sex with the blue-haired object of her affections while riding down upon him, it was certain that she would be absolutely mesmerized when he began to drill into her.
—–Gasping out she curled her bottom lip backward and bit down carelessly upon it. Her muscles, tense and heated, strained downward within her hips, and held firm with her stiffly locked arms pressing roughly against his chest. The hard motions she made forced his hardon deeply between her flexing thighs, and feeling the pulse of his anatomy she hung her head back, her long, blonde hair dangling unmanaged, and allowed the hot beads of sweat to stream down her forehead. Lendon’s fingertips, seized in a vice-grip caused by the sexual pleasure which the girl provided, dug violently into her skin, and even as he did so, without care, he knew she would bruise.
—–Swiftly, in the most sudden of moments, a momentum propelled her backward, and she felt herself strike the soft cushioning of the bed. Quickly, yet hardly cumbersome, the blue-haired ‘angel’ of her lustful affection slid his legs from beneath her and lunged himself atop of her, pressing his weight downwardly toward her bare chest. Her breasts were a fair size, a cup-size of no less than 36C, as well as perky. Her nipples, surrounded by the heaving of her expanding chest, contrasted the hot sweat of her body as they stood cool and hard. The skin of her naked form glistened, and as she felt the press of his bare chest dawn upon her, she could not help but feel a deep form of anticipation overwhelm her. Trying to maintain her focus, yet failing miserably, she parted her legs as his thighs pushed forward, and the heated folds of her womanhood curled around his advancing cock.
—–A stream of astonishment volted through her exposed body, causing her muscles to tense up. Her fingertips dug into his back deeply, much as he had done to her thighs only moments ago, and her legs curled tightly around his waist, steadying her body with his powerful thrusts. She gasped loudly with pleasure, rolling back her eyes and pressing her head against the sheets, Lendon’s lips pressing delicately along the side of her neck and throat in a rapturous pattern, and steadily, her vision faded into a whitish blur.
~
—–“Oh Erika, darling… you’re so amazing. I could have never asked for anything better…” the glistening of her eyes, moist from tears of rapture, proved her words to be sincere. Adra gazed out into the midnight sky, absently linking the stars into a large puzzle, her lips secured into an unbroken smile when her lover’s arms bound more tightly around her. “Only the most spectacular for my Fallen Angel… and yet, as beautiful as this moment is it pales compared to your blessed face.” All though she felt his words were somewhat cliche, the warmth flowing steadily into her face only grew when she realized she was blushing. Dorky? Surely, however it was, at the same time, the sweetest thing she had ever heard. Perhaps not this very moment, but everything he had every said to her mesmerized her. “How did I get so lucky?” She sighed contently, and as he spoke once more, she felt his voice flow steadily through her. “I should be the one asking that, sweetie…”, Erika’s words carried on the breeze, and as they gazed out into the nightsky on the look-out spot, time seemed to stand still.
~
—–The stone cold surface of the ancient brick wall sent chills through Azrael’s skin, and as the blur of sounds and motions around him spun his mind in circles, he secretly begged for the strength to remain conscious. The pain in his torn and ravashed body agonized him, and yet, so deeply he knew just how terrible things would become if he let himself pass out… Why post-pone the inevitable? All though he under-took such torments periodically, there are certain things you never can never adapt to. Even earlier this night the more extreme pains he felt were tolerable, and yet now even the faintest drip of blood onto his sore chest from the corner of his swollen lips brought him further into a dark oppression.
—–The Dark One stood statuesquely, the pair of vacant, blackened pits which forged its eyes focusing studyingly upon its nightly victim. There was a cursed smile embedded upon its insidious face. This boy had grown still and lifeless, which meant that it was now given a challenge. Now, it had to make him writhe and squirm.
~
—–“So… whatd’ya wanna do, now?” a seemingly sweet smile played innocent on her face, and as she sat on her knees on the floor, and gazed at her new addiction, she could not help but wonder what he was soon to say. Her eyes seemed mindless, empty much like a child, and she began to smile excitedly as she heard his voice break the silence. “Why? I was under the impression you were about to leave.” Suddenly things dawned upon her, and his words struck her harshly. She had known even before she met him that he wasn’t the most affectionate guy around, and yet she had become fascinated with him, as though she felt, for even a moment, she had somehow changed him. Reality did not steadily dawn upon her, but instead, crashed horrifically around her. “Oh… okay… I guess I’ll… see you around?” pausing in hopes of a response, she was once more disappointed, and the melancholy young woman quietly left the room.
—–“Just a few more like her will ruin me…” Lendon spoke silently to himself just as Molly Baker left his sight. It was less than a minute later that the jolting pain darted through his gut, and he was certain something was wrong. There was a deep, eminating spiral of darkness churning within his stomach, and as this feeling focused, he knew where it was coming from. Swiftly, he spun in his chair to gaze out his window, and surely enough, he saw the first sign of his nightmare… becoming reality.
~
—–Molly stood mystified in the front yard of the rustic house, her eyes so wide in horror that white could be seen both above and below the iris. Her pubils were nearly specks, and she could feel the nauseating sensation of the pigment drain away from her flesh. Standing out on the road, next to the mail-box, she could see the haunting gaze of a torn soul boring into her. Sunken, blackened eyes; paled skin; matted, sweaty hair; and perhaps the most terrifying of all, countless scars spread across the broken flesh. The few blood-soaked clothes that remained on the nearly unidentifiable figure held loosely, as if ready to fall uncontrollably to the asphault as a result of the relentless quivering of their host’s form.
—–Feeling a scream build rapidly in her throat, Molly spread her lips, but felt only a deep choking. Struggling for breath, she cleared her throat the best she could, and as she did a forced question of her subconscious, in the form of a whisper, escaped. “Aren’t you… Amy Trenbar?”
