+ Red Sister +
Something random I wrote...I meant to finish it but haven't gotten around to it, yet. It's a futuristic, post war story that takes place on another planet. Though that planet is fairly similar to Earth. Maybe one day I'll elaborate on this short tidbit *shrug*
08-29-3120
It was a dank, summer’s night. The moon was only a quarter full, its dim light barely able to penetrate the forests’ canopy. Gnarled tree branches curled together, forming their own shadowed sky. Beneath the dark leaves were two figures, sitting across from each other over a small fire.
“That woman in the bar, earlier,” the taller said, dying to shatter the uncomfortable quiet. No matter what the time of day, silence always collected and hung like rain on a spider web. “Do you think she liked me?”
His companion did not look at him. Instead the older man stared at his food and picked at it aimlessly. “How would I know? Go ask her. I don’t care.”
Ashlee rose an eyebrow at Zerick’s bitter and annoyed tone. “You know, maybe if you didn’t look so miserable all the time, women would look at you too.”
Zerick stiffened visibly. He stopped fussing over his uneaten food and dropped the plate on the ground. Ashlee didn’t think the man would respond, until dark blue eyes drifted upwards, pinning him with a withering stare.
“Do you think any woman would want to look at this?” Zerick asked.
Frowning softly, Ashlee turned his gaze on the ground. He knew that Zerick was referring to his many facial scars, like streaks of glaring white dancing across tanned skin. Ashlee didn’t know why Zerick worried about them so much. He himself found them to be very intriguing.
“Some women admire scars,” Ashlee said carefully, after a short pause. “Long ago, on Earth, I think they had a term for it. ‘Battle marks,’ or…something like that.”
Zerick snorted, seemingly unconvinced. “You’re an idiot if you believe that. The world revolves around beauty, Ash. That’s what people notice, and that’s what they admire.”
“Not me.”
Ashlee flushed instantly, embarrassed by his comment and how quickly he had delivered it. Zerick gave him an unreadable look, hard and blank as steel, before turning away.
“You’re giving me a headache,” the older man said. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
Without waiting for a response Zerick slid off the log he’d been sitting on, stretching his legs out in front of him and kicking sand on the fire. It died quickly and their makeshift camp was thrown into darkness. Ashlee watched the entire scene with wide eyes, unbelieving of how unbearably rude Zerick could be. He tossed his plate to the ground angrily and leaned back against the tree behind him. It took his eyes a moment to adjust in the darkness, but soon enough he was able to distinguish shadowed shapes from one another.
He saw Zerick lying on the ground near the pile of firewood, his back to Ashlee. The younger of the two men scowled at the other’s head, then huffed quietly and crossed his arms. If Zerick wanted to be an asshole, then so be it. Ashlee was only trying to help him, the man was obviously miserable. What harm would it do, having another body to chase the cold away?
Still glaring, Ashlee swung his eyes to glance at Zerick once more. After a moment he realized he was tracing the man’s body with his eyes, and immediately looked away. It was just the shadows playing tricks on his mind, ghosts whispering in his ears and offering him strange thoughts. He began to wonder if Zerick ever did feel lonely, if he ever longed for the touch of another…
Ashlee peered at the older man again. He could help Zerick. He’d been with women throughout his entire life, but as a child it was his religion that taught him attraction goes beyond sex. It is a person’s being and character that draws you, not the differences in their biological makeup. Ashlee considered Zerick very attractive, he had since meeting him. And like he said before, the various scars intrigued him. Zerick could certainly be unbearable at times in his moodiness, but that only made Ash want to break him. He wanted to see what was left of the man before the desert, wanted to see if there was anything left.
Rising slowly, Ashlee crept towards Zerick. He could be stealthy if need be, and his feet were like teasing whispers gliding over grass. He tiptoed around Zerick’s still and sleeping form, then eased into a crouched position a feet away. He studied the older man’s face, which was bathed in moonlight, making his scars glow like silver. After placing his right palm on the ground, Ash extended his other hand, reaching out to touch the scar on Zerick’s upper lip.
It happened so fast Ashlee didn’t even know what hit him. One moment he was about to touch Zerick, and the next he was flat on his back, one hand on his wrist, and the other wrapped around his throat. He gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs, his sight blurring.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Zerick asked, the words reaching the younger man like a prolonged hiss.
Ash opened his mouth to reply but the only thing that came out was a strangled murmur. Zerick had a death grip on his throat, so strong that he was certain the man was clutching his lungs and not his neck. The rogue growled and jabbed a knee into his ribs, eyes flashing with heat. Ashlee gasped in pain.
“I…I can’t…c-c-can’t breath…”
Zerick growled again as he came to a stand, relinquishing his hold. Ashlee rolled on his side the moment he was free, coughing spit onto the dirt and rubbing his neck. A second later and his so-called “companion” would have crushed his windpipe.
“Answer me. What were you doing?”
Turning his head slowly, Ashlee dared to meet Zerick’s dark blue gaze, which was seething with anger. “I only wanted to help you.”
Zerick’s lip pulled back in a disgusted snarl. “You think I need help? What’d you have in mind? Planned on ‘seducing’ me? Thought sleeping with me would make everything better? What makes you think I’d ever desire you? You’re just a scrawny, ignorant kid.”
Ashlee sat up straighter, angered by Zerick’s hateful and insulting words. “I’m only a few years younger than you! I’m not a child!”
“Chronologically, yes,” Zerick sneered, “but not mentally. Do you think you’ll ever be able to understand what I’ve been through? Do you think you’ll ever be able to ‘comfort’ me. Heal my mental wounds?” His tone and expression were condescending now. “Young, innocent Ashlee, come to save the broken Zerick from himself.”
Jumping to his feet, Ash rose to his full height to glare down at Zerick. “I didn’t want to heal you,” he growled. “Don’t even flatter yourself and think I’d put that much effort into you.”
The lie was bitter on his tongue. Ever since he’d been old enough to understand words, he’d been taught that the truth was far more valuable than a lie, far more honorable and respectable. Healing Zerick had been his intention from the very start. He wanted to comfort the older man, make him forget his past; his abuse, his exploitation. To suck the pain away like you sucked the poison from a snake bite. If anything, Zerick’s face became even more revolted.
“Oh, so you only wanted sex? Feeling lonely after so many weeks without someone to bed?”
“You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely!!” Ash retorted.
Zerick’s eyes were like hot coals, their heat burning Ashlee’s skin. “I will never be lonely,” he replied, his voice dropping dangerously low, hard and venomous. “Never again will I yearn for another’s touch. To have someone’s mouth on my skin would sicken me. I will break the neck of anyone who tries it.”
Brown eyes widened, and Ash felt his mouth going slack. How could he be so thoughtless? He hadn’t even taken the time to think this through, to think how Zerick would see it. How could he blame the man for never wanting to be touched intimately after what he’d been through?
Shaking his head, Zerick ran his eyes over Ashlee’s body in a cruel way. “You disgust me. I can’t believe you honestly thought I would want you.”
Despite everything, the words pierced him like a dagger. Such blatant hate Ashlee had never experienced in his life. It was like touching fire for the first time, the shock of it far greater than the pain itself. The heat in his face was no longer from anger, but from shame and embarrassment. He looked away quickly and walked around Zerick, gathering his things hurriedly in his hands. He didn’t look back as he walked through the wood, his spine rigid.
+++
Ashlee spent the rest of the night walking, trying to gain as much distance as he could. After estimating that he’d gone about five miles he decided to rest. The horizon was starting to blush, and he wanted to get at least some sleep before sunrise. He curled up beside a large tree and drew his tattered cloak around himself in a vain attempt to ward away the cold air. The next time he woke the sun had already risen, but it was still hanging low in the sky. He rose, groaning at the various kinks in his back, shoulders, and neck. It would be wonderful to come across a town soon, he didn’t know how much more he could take of sleeping on tree roots.
Ashlee found a small, dirt path after an hour of beating his way through heavy underbrush. He stared at it warily, remembering that Zerick had told him to stay off deserted paths. Maybe it was that thought alone that convinced him he should take it. Zerick could choke on his own advice for all Ashlee cared. Besides, the path had to lead somewhere, probably the end of the wood, maybe even the beginnings of a town. He smiled in anticipation, already imagining a firm mattress and warm water.
It wasn’t long before Ashlee noticed movement around him. He heard it first before he actually saw it, but decided to wait and see who it could possibly be. It was very likely that it was only an animal, or maybe just a random traveler. When the person finally emerged, a few yards in front of him, Ash had a sickening feeling that it wasn’t a random traveler at all. The man was tall and well built, with short black hair and pale skin. His clothes were made of a simple but fine-looking cloth, indicating that he was well off. He was sucking on a cigarette lazily, his dark eyes glued to the boy standing opposite him.
Ash came to a casual stop, his wary gaze betraying his relaxed stance. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one to make the first greeting.
“Where are you headed?” the man asked, having to throw his voice to be heard. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”
Ashlee gave a slow nod. He thought for a moment before replying. “No, I come from the south, near the Blue Plains.” He made sure to say nothing about where he was going.
“Oh really? I’ve heard of that area. Never been there, though.”
Without responding, Ash allowed himself time to study the other man. There was something…wrong…about him. Something wrong with the way he stood, his body slack, a hand tucked into his pocket while the other held his cigarette. He looked fairly clean, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eye. This man was up to something, and he wasn’t alone. Ashlee felt three others lurking close by. Damn it.
Click.
Well, that was unexpected. Ashlee hadn’t even heard the offender approaching before the barrel of a gun was being forced against the back of his skull. These guys were good.
“Move,” a rough voice said behind him, pushing the gun harder against his scalp, making it crawl and tingle with anxiety.
Ashlee complied, even though he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to move to. He took a few steps forward when the final two men emerged from the forest, on either side of the path. One had shining blonde hair, and the other’s was graying, though his face looked youthful. The one with graying hair walked over to him and took him by the arm. He could still feel the gun barrel against his sweating hair follicles as he was lead towards a tree on the side of the path. The gray-haired man spun him around and pinned him to the tree, so roughly that his head hit the bark with a dull thunk. He grimaced, but said nothing, concentrating on the feel of his arms being grabbed and pulled behind him. He felt rope being tied around his wrists, making it so he wouldn’t be able to move away from the tree.
“Don’t bruise him too badly.”
The calm voice belonged to the man Ash had seen first, with the cigarette and dark hair. He strolled down the path until he was standing a few feet in front of the tree. The blonde and graying man went and stood on either side of him, and then the fourth, who’s hair was a shaggy, mousy brown. He held the gun in his hands as if he expected to shoot Ashlee any second.
The dark-haired man hummed, running his eyes over Ashlee’s body as if to inspect him. He took a step forward and placed his hand on the boy’s jaw, turning his head from left to right.
“Well isn’t this a find, boys,” he mused, smiling faintly. “A little thin, but look at those eyes.”
“No one’s going to be looking at his eyes, Jericho,” the blonde commented drolly. His voice was soft and light, with an underlying amusement. “Look at his mouth. That’s where the money is.”
Jericho clicked his tongue and took his hand away. “York, it’s always the same thing with you, isn’t it? All you care about is their mouths and their asses.”
The blonde smiled, a gesture which looked surprisingly feral on his gentle face. “Well it’s like I said Jericho, that’s where the money is.”
“You know some pay for a little more,” Jericho replied, shrugging. “They get off on a pretty face they can stare at for a few hours.”
Ashlee’s stomach started coiling tight as he listened to their conversation. He had a vague idea of what they were talking about as soon as the blonde mentioned his mouth, but that last comment confirmed it. He felt ill.
“Hmm, do you suppose he’s virgin?” York suddenly quipped. “He looks very young. Maybe I should take him for a little testdrive?”
Jericho seemed to consider this idea, eyeing Ashlee for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head. “I think you may be right about that, Yor, and if it’s true, imagine how much we can get for him. I know many who’d already pay a hearty sum for his face, but throw in that he’s a virgin, and that amount triples.”
The blonde let out a sigh of disappointment. “Well let’s see what he has, at least. How much will he be worth if it’s not to our standards?”
Jericho shrugged again, obviously unconcerned. “Not all our customers are picky about that. In fact, most of them aren’t. It won’t matter.”
Ashlee’s stomach was rising to his throat steadily. He kept silent, concentrating all his energy on the four men standing before him, trying to think of a way to escape. He knew he had little chance, especially with the mousy-haired one standing there with that gun in his hand.
“Oh Jericho, I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to wait much longer,” York announced, sighing dramatically. The other man just rolled his eyes.
“I don’t want you ruining the merchandise, but I’ll let you have a feel if you stop your bitching.”
York’s lips spread into a wide grin, his eyes gleaming. “You spoil me,” he purred sarcastically. Jericho glanced at him, one brow high on his forehead.
Ashlee made sure he didn’t flinch as the blonde sauntered towards him. He wouldn’t let these perverts know he was intimidated, or scared. York came too close for comfort, staring up at him with pale eyes and that feral smirk. Ash stared back unflinchingly, and couldn’t help a slight frown when he noticed the man staring at his mouth.
“Don’t do that,” York scolded, reaching up to smack Ashlee’s cheek a few times. “It’s unappealing. No one will want it with you scowling at them like that.” He took his hand away and smiled again. “I’d say your mouth is your best feature. Try not to spoil it.”
Ashlee glared, instinctively pulling his lips into a thin line to conceal them. York just chuckled, and then he was suddenly grabbing between the boy’s legs, feeling him through his clothing. Ash’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth going slack. At least he didn’t gasp.
Whistling loudly, York shot a glance over his shoulder to look at the other three men. “Lucky us, Jericho. I think this one may be promising.”
Their leader smiled approvingly. “What’d I say? I knew he was a treasure when I saw him.”
York sighed softly. “We should keep this one for ourselves,” he commented. Jericho didn’t reply and the blonde didn’t seem to want one. He turned his head so he could look at Ash once more. He rose his hand and touched the boy’s cheek, his other hand still resting between Ashlee’s legs.
Cringing, Ash tried to lean away from the York’s touch, but he only succeeded in pressing the bark of the tree further into his scalp. The blonde rose an eyebrow, looking amused. He finally took his hands away, and out of nowhere a small dagger appeared. He held it up for Ashlee to see, then idly traced lines over the boy’s cheek.
It was all Ashlee could do not to yell or squirm. What was happening to him was revolting, but what was even more terrifying was the fact that they intended on making him a prostitute. He had to get away; he would not be forced into sex labor.
York started to hum a soft and cheery tune as he danced the blade downwards. He came to Ashlee’s shirts, using the dagger to cut away the fabric. Ashlee flinched, his heart beginning to pound against his ribs as his chest and stomach were exposed. The blonde’s eyes staring at his torso made him sick, it felt as if the man were actually touching him.
“You’re right, he is rather thin.”
Neither Jericho nor the other two men responded.
“Hmm…I wonder if you have a gag reflex,” York went on. “I hope not, that’s no good to us.”
Ash grimaced in disgust, but only received a high, chiming laughter. He felt the blade of the dagger against his neck, making it so he wouldn’t dare move his head. York stared at him and shook his head, smiling as he clicked his tongue. “You’re like a wild horse, aren’t you? How fun it’ll be taming you…”
A shudder ran the length of Ash’s spine when he felt two fingertips on his lower lip. He thought he might be sick. He couldn’t believe he was in this situation. Was it his punishment for the things he’d said to Zerick the night before? For the thing he tried to do? Oh god, he wished that he’d never left Zerick, that he’d apologized for his behavior and stayed.
The two fingers pressed to his bottom lip moved to the crease of his mouth, pushing, trying to gain entrance. Ashlee shut his teeth tightly and pinched his lips together in an lame attempt to stop the intrusion. The blade was pressed more firmly against his throat, and the fingers no longer held mercy as they shoved their way into his mouth. He growled, horrified at the feel of someone else’s fingers against his teeth and tongue, pushing as far as they could go. He was just about to bite them, uncaring of the consequences, when he heard a loud bang.
He’d never forget the feel of it. It was like the splash of water from a summer sea, or humid rain falling from an April sky. It was warm and thick against sweating skin, crimson like a ruby melted. Ashlee never knew a shower of blood could feel so good against his skin. He never knew a face shattered by a bullet could look so beautiful.
08-29-3120
It was a dank, summer’s night. The moon was only a quarter full, its dim light barely able to penetrate the forests’ canopy. Gnarled tree branches curled together, forming their own shadowed sky. Beneath the dark leaves were two figures, sitting across from each other over a small fire.
“That woman in the bar, earlier,” the taller said, dying to shatter the uncomfortable quiet. No matter what the time of day, silence always collected and hung like rain on a spider web. “Do you think she liked me?”
His companion did not look at him. Instead the older man stared at his food and picked at it aimlessly. “How would I know? Go ask her. I don’t care.”
Ashlee rose an eyebrow at Zerick’s bitter and annoyed tone. “You know, maybe if you didn’t look so miserable all the time, women would look at you too.”
Zerick stiffened visibly. He stopped fussing over his uneaten food and dropped the plate on the ground. Ashlee didn’t think the man would respond, until dark blue eyes drifted upwards, pinning him with a withering stare.
“Do you think any woman would want to look at this?” Zerick asked.
Frowning softly, Ashlee turned his gaze on the ground. He knew that Zerick was referring to his many facial scars, like streaks of glaring white dancing across tanned skin. Ashlee didn’t know why Zerick worried about them so much. He himself found them to be very intriguing.
“Some women admire scars,” Ashlee said carefully, after a short pause. “Long ago, on Earth, I think they had a term for it. ‘Battle marks,’ or…something like that.”
Zerick snorted, seemingly unconvinced. “You’re an idiot if you believe that. The world revolves around beauty, Ash. That’s what people notice, and that’s what they admire.”
“Not me.”
Ashlee flushed instantly, embarrassed by his comment and how quickly he had delivered it. Zerick gave him an unreadable look, hard and blank as steel, before turning away.
“You’re giving me a headache,” the older man said. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
Without waiting for a response Zerick slid off the log he’d been sitting on, stretching his legs out in front of him and kicking sand on the fire. It died quickly and their makeshift camp was thrown into darkness. Ashlee watched the entire scene with wide eyes, unbelieving of how unbearably rude Zerick could be. He tossed his plate to the ground angrily and leaned back against the tree behind him. It took his eyes a moment to adjust in the darkness, but soon enough he was able to distinguish shadowed shapes from one another.
He saw Zerick lying on the ground near the pile of firewood, his back to Ashlee. The younger of the two men scowled at the other’s head, then huffed quietly and crossed his arms. If Zerick wanted to be an asshole, then so be it. Ashlee was only trying to help him, the man was obviously miserable. What harm would it do, having another body to chase the cold away?
Still glaring, Ashlee swung his eyes to glance at Zerick once more. After a moment he realized he was tracing the man’s body with his eyes, and immediately looked away. It was just the shadows playing tricks on his mind, ghosts whispering in his ears and offering him strange thoughts. He began to wonder if Zerick ever did feel lonely, if he ever longed for the touch of another…
Ashlee peered at the older man again. He could help Zerick. He’d been with women throughout his entire life, but as a child it was his religion that taught him attraction goes beyond sex. It is a person’s being and character that draws you, not the differences in their biological makeup. Ashlee considered Zerick very attractive, he had since meeting him. And like he said before, the various scars intrigued him. Zerick could certainly be unbearable at times in his moodiness, but that only made Ash want to break him. He wanted to see what was left of the man before the desert, wanted to see if there was anything left.
Rising slowly, Ashlee crept towards Zerick. He could be stealthy if need be, and his feet were like teasing whispers gliding over grass. He tiptoed around Zerick’s still and sleeping form, then eased into a crouched position a feet away. He studied the older man’s face, which was bathed in moonlight, making his scars glow like silver. After placing his right palm on the ground, Ash extended his other hand, reaching out to touch the scar on Zerick’s upper lip.
It happened so fast Ashlee didn’t even know what hit him. One moment he was about to touch Zerick, and the next he was flat on his back, one hand on his wrist, and the other wrapped around his throat. He gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs, his sight blurring.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Zerick asked, the words reaching the younger man like a prolonged hiss.
Ash opened his mouth to reply but the only thing that came out was a strangled murmur. Zerick had a death grip on his throat, so strong that he was certain the man was clutching his lungs and not his neck. The rogue growled and jabbed a knee into his ribs, eyes flashing with heat. Ashlee gasped in pain.
“I…I can’t…c-c-can’t breath…”
Zerick growled again as he came to a stand, relinquishing his hold. Ashlee rolled on his side the moment he was free, coughing spit onto the dirt and rubbing his neck. A second later and his so-called “companion” would have crushed his windpipe.
“Answer me. What were you doing?”
Turning his head slowly, Ashlee dared to meet Zerick’s dark blue gaze, which was seething with anger. “I only wanted to help you.”
Zerick’s lip pulled back in a disgusted snarl. “You think I need help? What’d you have in mind? Planned on ‘seducing’ me? Thought sleeping with me would make everything better? What makes you think I’d ever desire you? You’re just a scrawny, ignorant kid.”
Ashlee sat up straighter, angered by Zerick’s hateful and insulting words. “I’m only a few years younger than you! I’m not a child!”
“Chronologically, yes,” Zerick sneered, “but not mentally. Do you think you’ll ever be able to understand what I’ve been through? Do you think you’ll ever be able to ‘comfort’ me. Heal my mental wounds?” His tone and expression were condescending now. “Young, innocent Ashlee, come to save the broken Zerick from himself.”
Jumping to his feet, Ash rose to his full height to glare down at Zerick. “I didn’t want to heal you,” he growled. “Don’t even flatter yourself and think I’d put that much effort into you.”
The lie was bitter on his tongue. Ever since he’d been old enough to understand words, he’d been taught that the truth was far more valuable than a lie, far more honorable and respectable. Healing Zerick had been his intention from the very start. He wanted to comfort the older man, make him forget his past; his abuse, his exploitation. To suck the pain away like you sucked the poison from a snake bite. If anything, Zerick’s face became even more revolted.
“Oh, so you only wanted sex? Feeling lonely after so many weeks without someone to bed?”
“You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely!!” Ash retorted.
Zerick’s eyes were like hot coals, their heat burning Ashlee’s skin. “I will never be lonely,” he replied, his voice dropping dangerously low, hard and venomous. “Never again will I yearn for another’s touch. To have someone’s mouth on my skin would sicken me. I will break the neck of anyone who tries it.”
Brown eyes widened, and Ash felt his mouth going slack. How could he be so thoughtless? He hadn’t even taken the time to think this through, to think how Zerick would see it. How could he blame the man for never wanting to be touched intimately after what he’d been through?
Shaking his head, Zerick ran his eyes over Ashlee’s body in a cruel way. “You disgust me. I can’t believe you honestly thought I would want you.”
Despite everything, the words pierced him like a dagger. Such blatant hate Ashlee had never experienced in his life. It was like touching fire for the first time, the shock of it far greater than the pain itself. The heat in his face was no longer from anger, but from shame and embarrassment. He looked away quickly and walked around Zerick, gathering his things hurriedly in his hands. He didn’t look back as he walked through the wood, his spine rigid.
+++
Ashlee spent the rest of the night walking, trying to gain as much distance as he could. After estimating that he’d gone about five miles he decided to rest. The horizon was starting to blush, and he wanted to get at least some sleep before sunrise. He curled up beside a large tree and drew his tattered cloak around himself in a vain attempt to ward away the cold air. The next time he woke the sun had already risen, but it was still hanging low in the sky. He rose, groaning at the various kinks in his back, shoulders, and neck. It would be wonderful to come across a town soon, he didn’t know how much more he could take of sleeping on tree roots.
Ashlee found a small, dirt path after an hour of beating his way through heavy underbrush. He stared at it warily, remembering that Zerick had told him to stay off deserted paths. Maybe it was that thought alone that convinced him he should take it. Zerick could choke on his own advice for all Ashlee cared. Besides, the path had to lead somewhere, probably the end of the wood, maybe even the beginnings of a town. He smiled in anticipation, already imagining a firm mattress and warm water.
It wasn’t long before Ashlee noticed movement around him. He heard it first before he actually saw it, but decided to wait and see who it could possibly be. It was very likely that it was only an animal, or maybe just a random traveler. When the person finally emerged, a few yards in front of him, Ash had a sickening feeling that it wasn’t a random traveler at all. The man was tall and well built, with short black hair and pale skin. His clothes were made of a simple but fine-looking cloth, indicating that he was well off. He was sucking on a cigarette lazily, his dark eyes glued to the boy standing opposite him.
Ash came to a casual stop, his wary gaze betraying his relaxed stance. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one to make the first greeting.
“Where are you headed?” the man asked, having to throw his voice to be heard. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”
Ashlee gave a slow nod. He thought for a moment before replying. “No, I come from the south, near the Blue Plains.” He made sure to say nothing about where he was going.
“Oh really? I’ve heard of that area. Never been there, though.”
Without responding, Ash allowed himself time to study the other man. There was something…wrong…about him. Something wrong with the way he stood, his body slack, a hand tucked into his pocket while the other held his cigarette. He looked fairly clean, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eye. This man was up to something, and he wasn’t alone. Ashlee felt three others lurking close by. Damn it.
Click.
Well, that was unexpected. Ashlee hadn’t even heard the offender approaching before the barrel of a gun was being forced against the back of his skull. These guys were good.
“Move,” a rough voice said behind him, pushing the gun harder against his scalp, making it crawl and tingle with anxiety.
Ashlee complied, even though he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to move to. He took a few steps forward when the final two men emerged from the forest, on either side of the path. One had shining blonde hair, and the other’s was graying, though his face looked youthful. The one with graying hair walked over to him and took him by the arm. He could still feel the gun barrel against his sweating hair follicles as he was lead towards a tree on the side of the path. The gray-haired man spun him around and pinned him to the tree, so roughly that his head hit the bark with a dull thunk. He grimaced, but said nothing, concentrating on the feel of his arms being grabbed and pulled behind him. He felt rope being tied around his wrists, making it so he wouldn’t be able to move away from the tree.
“Don’t bruise him too badly.”
The calm voice belonged to the man Ash had seen first, with the cigarette and dark hair. He strolled down the path until he was standing a few feet in front of the tree. The blonde and graying man went and stood on either side of him, and then the fourth, who’s hair was a shaggy, mousy brown. He held the gun in his hands as if he expected to shoot Ashlee any second.
The dark-haired man hummed, running his eyes over Ashlee’s body as if to inspect him. He took a step forward and placed his hand on the boy’s jaw, turning his head from left to right.
“Well isn’t this a find, boys,” he mused, smiling faintly. “A little thin, but look at those eyes.”
“No one’s going to be looking at his eyes, Jericho,” the blonde commented drolly. His voice was soft and light, with an underlying amusement. “Look at his mouth. That’s where the money is.”
Jericho clicked his tongue and took his hand away. “York, it’s always the same thing with you, isn’t it? All you care about is their mouths and their asses.”
The blonde smiled, a gesture which looked surprisingly feral on his gentle face. “Well it’s like I said Jericho, that’s where the money is.”
“You know some pay for a little more,” Jericho replied, shrugging. “They get off on a pretty face they can stare at for a few hours.”
Ashlee’s stomach started coiling tight as he listened to their conversation. He had a vague idea of what they were talking about as soon as the blonde mentioned his mouth, but that last comment confirmed it. He felt ill.
“Hmm, do you suppose he’s virgin?” York suddenly quipped. “He looks very young. Maybe I should take him for a little testdrive?”
Jericho seemed to consider this idea, eyeing Ashlee for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head. “I think you may be right about that, Yor, and if it’s true, imagine how much we can get for him. I know many who’d already pay a hearty sum for his face, but throw in that he’s a virgin, and that amount triples.”
The blonde let out a sigh of disappointment. “Well let’s see what he has, at least. How much will he be worth if it’s not to our standards?”
Jericho shrugged again, obviously unconcerned. “Not all our customers are picky about that. In fact, most of them aren’t. It won’t matter.”
Ashlee’s stomach was rising to his throat steadily. He kept silent, concentrating all his energy on the four men standing before him, trying to think of a way to escape. He knew he had little chance, especially with the mousy-haired one standing there with that gun in his hand.
“Oh Jericho, I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to wait much longer,” York announced, sighing dramatically. The other man just rolled his eyes.
“I don’t want you ruining the merchandise, but I’ll let you have a feel if you stop your bitching.”
York’s lips spread into a wide grin, his eyes gleaming. “You spoil me,” he purred sarcastically. Jericho glanced at him, one brow high on his forehead.
Ashlee made sure he didn’t flinch as the blonde sauntered towards him. He wouldn’t let these perverts know he was intimidated, or scared. York came too close for comfort, staring up at him with pale eyes and that feral smirk. Ash stared back unflinchingly, and couldn’t help a slight frown when he noticed the man staring at his mouth.
“Don’t do that,” York scolded, reaching up to smack Ashlee’s cheek a few times. “It’s unappealing. No one will want it with you scowling at them like that.” He took his hand away and smiled again. “I’d say your mouth is your best feature. Try not to spoil it.”
Ashlee glared, instinctively pulling his lips into a thin line to conceal them. York just chuckled, and then he was suddenly grabbing between the boy’s legs, feeling him through his clothing. Ash’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth going slack. At least he didn’t gasp.
Whistling loudly, York shot a glance over his shoulder to look at the other three men. “Lucky us, Jericho. I think this one may be promising.”
Their leader smiled approvingly. “What’d I say? I knew he was a treasure when I saw him.”
York sighed softly. “We should keep this one for ourselves,” he commented. Jericho didn’t reply and the blonde didn’t seem to want one. He turned his head so he could look at Ash once more. He rose his hand and touched the boy’s cheek, his other hand still resting between Ashlee’s legs.
Cringing, Ash tried to lean away from the York’s touch, but he only succeeded in pressing the bark of the tree further into his scalp. The blonde rose an eyebrow, looking amused. He finally took his hands away, and out of nowhere a small dagger appeared. He held it up for Ashlee to see, then idly traced lines over the boy’s cheek.
It was all Ashlee could do not to yell or squirm. What was happening to him was revolting, but what was even more terrifying was the fact that they intended on making him a prostitute. He had to get away; he would not be forced into sex labor.
York started to hum a soft and cheery tune as he danced the blade downwards. He came to Ashlee’s shirts, using the dagger to cut away the fabric. Ashlee flinched, his heart beginning to pound against his ribs as his chest and stomach were exposed. The blonde’s eyes staring at his torso made him sick, it felt as if the man were actually touching him.
“You’re right, he is rather thin.”
Neither Jericho nor the other two men responded.
“Hmm…I wonder if you have a gag reflex,” York went on. “I hope not, that’s no good to us.”
Ash grimaced in disgust, but only received a high, chiming laughter. He felt the blade of the dagger against his neck, making it so he wouldn’t dare move his head. York stared at him and shook his head, smiling as he clicked his tongue. “You’re like a wild horse, aren’t you? How fun it’ll be taming you…”
A shudder ran the length of Ash’s spine when he felt two fingertips on his lower lip. He thought he might be sick. He couldn’t believe he was in this situation. Was it his punishment for the things he’d said to Zerick the night before? For the thing he tried to do? Oh god, he wished that he’d never left Zerick, that he’d apologized for his behavior and stayed.
The two fingers pressed to his bottom lip moved to the crease of his mouth, pushing, trying to gain entrance. Ashlee shut his teeth tightly and pinched his lips together in an lame attempt to stop the intrusion. The blade was pressed more firmly against his throat, and the fingers no longer held mercy as they shoved their way into his mouth. He growled, horrified at the feel of someone else’s fingers against his teeth and tongue, pushing as far as they could go. He was just about to bite them, uncaring of the consequences, when he heard a loud bang.
He’d never forget the feel of it. It was like the splash of water from a summer sea, or humid rain falling from an April sky. It was warm and thick against sweating skin, crimson like a ruby melted. Ashlee never knew a shower of blood could feel so good against his skin. He never knew a face shattered by a bullet could look so beautiful.