Perfectly Wicked, Chapter 5
Perfectly Wicked
By Jason D. Karl
JasonDKarl@proton.me
Author's Note:
This story is dark, twisted, erotic fantasy fiction about a gay vigilante killer with paranormal abilities. It is the product of the author's imagination and should not be construed as real in any way. This should be read only by adults of legal age. The story contains explicit gay sex and the type of violence found in vampire stories. Don't try this at home or anywhere else. That said, I hope you enjoy my twisted tale.
Link to character images for this story.
Chapter 5: So Shall He Reap
Earlier that evening, across town.
It was past Le Chien Royal's closing time, but Javert Tissemand was still having to contend with Altiva Esnobe-Mulher, who was a particularly obnoxious regular customer. He once again explained to her that Le Chien Royal verified and guaranteed that the meat used in her poodle's custom blend was cruelty-free. Finally, he was rid of her and closed the shop for the day.
With a sigh of relief, he stripped naked. There wasn't even a word in the Erkek language for "clothing." Of all of the bizarre customs and rituals he'd had to adjust to when he moved here from the Empire, Javert was most baffled by the heteros' ridiculous compulsion to affix textiles to their epidermis. At times, he wondered if they'd gotten some hermit crab DNA mixed into their genome somehow, and that's why they did it. It was a mystery.
His boss and mentor, Ro Kushim, emerged from the shadows. He'd just been to the Empire, so he was, of course, naked. Speaking in the Erkek language he said, "Please tell me you're planning to murder her."
Javert laughed, "Fuck yeah, I am."
"Did you pick up on the new flavor from her?"
"Yeah, it's kind of different. Not like when she hired us to kill her second husband, it's more subtle. So, something despicable, but not violent?"
Kushim said, "She's fucking her daughter's husband."
Javert was confused by this. Sure, willing sex fed them Mana, but it didn't linger after the act. "But, if it's consensual, then why would that stir up the Mana so much?"
"It's not the act itself but the intent that matters. She's planning for her daughter to catch them together because she wants to hurt her daughter. That level of betrayal and vindictiveness causes deep disruptions in the Mana."
This news made Javert all the more eager to take Altiva Esnobe-Mulher as his prey. "Her blood is gonna taste awesome. I'm still amazed at how you can get so many details."
Kushim shrugged off the compliment. "I've been at this for thousands of years, so I've gotten a lot of practice. You're not even one hundred yet. When you're old enough to mind-ride, you'll see just how easy heteros are to pick apart."
Javert took on a more serious demeanor. "How did it go with the Emperor?"
Kushim sighed. "It turns out that the Emperor encountered another Abjo like this one, but only one. It was seven millennia ago, towards the end of his predecessor's reign. Anyway, he sent me to the Great Pool to learn more."
Javert said, "But the Great Pool is just for Erkek larva, isn't it?"
Kushim let out a long breath and sat down in the lounge normally used by their customers. "That's what I thought too, but those were his orders. And it did have fragmentary records on four previous Abjos like this one. Three of them had to be killed, but one was saved."
Javert asked, "What are we supposed to do?"
"I'm sorry, but the Emperor ordered me to keep most of what I learned secret, so I can't tell you certain things. What I can say is that the Great Pool showed me what was done to save the only Abjo that ever survived. Based on what I learned, the Emperor came up with a plan to save this Abjo--his name's Kyle Truhan, by the way. We need to make contact, and then I'll teach him how to stabilize his Mana before it's too late--and we don't have a lot of time."
Javert asked, "Alright, so how do we approach him without scaring him off?"
"I think we should use the witness... Oh did the compulsion for him to seek shelter here work?"
Javert nodded. "It did. I locked him in one of the cages."
The two of them started making their way deep underground to the dungeon. Along the way, Kushim explained his idea. "Kyle's going to be trying to find the hetero because he's a witness. If we boost the signal, there's a chance he might sense it and come straight to us. If that doesn't work, I'll have to be the one to initiate contact. But we really should try to get him to come to us. I think that would go better than just showing up on his doorstep."
Kushim was delighted to see that Travis Bingham, the witness, was in a far worse state than he had been the night before when he'd gone out gay-bashing. His cage was spacious enough for him to crawl or sit, but not stand. There was no bed, no pillow, no chair.
"Good evening, Travis," Javert said. "I see you're feeling a bit stressed. Tell me, how does it feel to be on the receiving end of the fear you've been dishing out?"
Travis' voice trembled as he spoke. "Please, let me go. I don't know what you're talking about."
Kushim was amused. "Oh, but I think you do. Last night, you and your charming friends, David Jackson, Jr. and Wilmer Pislik, decided to go on a little 'adventure' to spread some good old-fashioned god-fearing hate, didn't you?"
"No, no, you've got it all wrong! We were just out for a night on the town!"
Kushim leaned against the bars of the cage. "A night on the town, indeed. With a knife and a pair of homophobic thugs for company? Tell me, Travis, what's the thrill in hate crimes?"
"It was just a misunderstanding," he whimpered.
"Misunderstanding?" Kushim prodded. "Or perhaps a revelation of your true nature? When the gay man you planned to beat to death fought back and shot Wilmer, you ran off like the coward you are."
Travis said, "Look, I don't know what you want from me, but I swear, it was just a mistake. I didn't mean to--"
Javert cut him off. "Mistake? You've got a strange way of showing compassion for other members of your species, don't you?" He picked up a can of dog food from the shelf.
Travis gulped.
"You went gay-bashing, like some animal." Javert held the can up for Travis to see. "So, it's only fair that we treat you like one." He opened the can. "Dinner is served." He put the dog food and some water into bowls and slid them in the cage.
Travis's face contorted. "I'm not eating that shit! You bunch of homos!"
They'd only just begun breaking Travis. Fortunately, even for one so young, Javert was quite talented at torment. Kushim let his apprentice take the lead.
The corners of Javert's mouth tilted upward. "You know, Travis, I've always found it fascinating how heteros like you justify your hate. But here's the thing, the very essence of your bigotry is a succulent treat to us. So, please, hate us some more."
Travis spat at them but missed. "I'd rather die than eat that shit!"
Javert's smile grew broader. "What's the matter, Travis? You don't like our hospitality? Well, perhaps we should give you a little show with your meal. Now, eat up."
Javert pulled his mentor to him, and the two of them kissed passionately. Since they were both already naked, their hard-ons were on display.
Kushim broke away from the kiss just long enough to goad Travis. "Eat up. We made it just for you." He slid his hands down to give Javert's ass a firm squeeze. The look of revulsion on Travis's face was almost comical.
Javert pushed Kushim towards the cage. "Looks like you need a little extra entertainment, Travis." Following his apprentice's cue, Kushim bent down and flicked his tongue over the head of Javert's cock. Travis's face contorted as he watched Kushim's mouth engulf his assistant's length.
"You see what gracious hosts we are, Travis. We're treating you to dinner and a movie," Javert taunted.
Travis screamed slurs and obscenities, but they only served to drive the Erkek on.
Javert stepped back and looked at Kushim with a smirk. "Fuck me." Without hesitation, Kushim stepped behind him, his own cock now rock hard. He spread Javert's cheeks and pushed into him. They'd done this countless times before, but there was something extra thrilling about doing it in front of their prey.
"What do you think, Travis?" Javert asked, turning to face the caged man. "Should my boss fuck me harder?"
"You sick fucks," Travis spat out, but his eyes remained glued to the display.
Javert bent over the cage to make sure his asshole was presented perfectly for Travis's view. "Oh, you want to see more? You want to see what a cock is really made for, don't you?"
With that, Kushim started fucking his apprentice harder.
Travis protested, "This isn't right. You can't do this to me!"
Javert chuckled. "But we're not doing anything to you, Travis. We're just enjoying ourselves. But if you want us to stop, all you have to do is eat."
"I'm not eating no fucking dog food!"
Kushim said, "That's a double negative, so it means that you are going to eat dog food."
They switched positions. Javert lined his cock up with Kushim's hole. "Your turn, boss." Then he slid in. They fucked like that for a little while, followed by switching places several more times.
But they needed to push Travis further, to extract the most potent emotions from him. Kushim did a handstand. Javert grabbed his ankles to steady him, and they performed the standing 69 position. It was a little awkward, so Javert moved from sucking his boss's cock to eating his ass. Kushim wrapped his feet around his apprentice's neck, freeing Javert's hands to jack him off while rimming him. Then they changed positions again, this time Javert fucked him, doggy style.
Finally, they climaxed together, their bodies shaking with the power of the Mana they had drawn from Travis. Despite his protests and condemnations, Travis clearly had a boner.
Javert pulled out of Kushim and waggled his spent cock in the face of the caged man. Then he knelt down, placed his mouth against his boss's asshole, and felched him. The salty-sweet taste of his own cum filled his mouth as he pulled it out of his mentor's body. He turned to Travis and spat the cum right into the hetero's gaping mouth. Travis recoiled, gagging and spitting.
"How's that for a taste of love, Travis?" Kushim mocked.
Their captive retched.
Javert said, "I see you haven't touched your meal, but did you at least enjoy the show?"
Travis glared up at them from his cage. "Fuck you. You're not getting away with this."
Javert wiped his mouth and licked the remaining cum off his fingers. "Oh, but we are."
Kushim watched Travis with a look of pure amusement. "Jackson is dead, and you're such an asshole that you don't have any other friends. So, who's going to save you? Who will ride to the rescue of the great Travis Bingham? Hmm? "
"You... you fucking monsters!"
"Yes, we are," Kushim said. "But let's not forget that we're not the ones who decided to make a night out of hunting down and beating innocent people for the mere 'crime' of being different. That was you and your charming little band of thugs. Now it's time to pay the price."
Javert stepped closer to the cage. "You see, Travis, in our world, we're the predators, and you are our prey."
Kushim nodded. "That's right. And you're going to be a little snack for our very special guest."
Travis's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the man you thought you could so easily bully," Kushim said. "But it turned out that the man you went after is the one called 'The Bleeder.' He's quite something, isn't he?"
Travis's eyes widened in terror. "You can't be serious!"
Javert smiled. "Oh, but we are. We've invited The Bleeder here, and he's most eager to see you again."
Travis's voice was shaking now. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"
"Why, Travis?" Javert said, "Because you thought it was fun to hurt others."
Kushim nodded in agreement. "You picked on someone different from you, someone you thought was weak. Now, to use one of your religion's sayings, 'you reap what you sew'."
Javert continued, "While we wait for our special guest to arrive, we're going to punish you for going gay-bashing. I'm going to break one of your bones, but you have to choose which one I break. So, pick a bone."
Travis's eyes darted around the room, as if searching for a way out. There was none. "You're insane."
Javert squatted in front of Travis. "Insane? Perhaps. But, unlike you, we never go after the innocent. They're not very nutritious. Hardly worth the effort. No, we are quite selective with our prey."
"I'm sorry, man. Jackson made me do it."
"Interesting," Kushim mused. "So, you're admitting that you're a mindless drone? That you're not capable of independent thought?"
"It's not like that! We were just having fun!" Travis's voice was desperate now.
Javert leaned closer to the cage. "Actions have consequences, Travis. And your little 'fun' night had some rather dire consequences for your friend. You see, our species feeds on malice and hatred, and the three of you served it up to him on a silver platter. "
Travis huddled in on himself. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening."
Kushim said, "Oh, but it is. And as for Jackson, I'm quite sure he felt the same way when The Bleeder started to eat him while he was still alive. I was there, watching in the shadows. The look on your friend's face when he understood what was happening was quite priceless."
Travis's eyes went wide. "You're lying!"
Javert just shrugged. "Believe what you want, but the fact remains that you're here, and he's dead. Now, pick a bone."
Travis was sweating profusely. "I'll do anything. Just don't hurt me."
Javert gave Travis the 'naughty-naughty' finger gesture. "If I have to break one that you didn't pick, then that doesn't count."
He could sense that Kushim was using the dread emanating from Travis and boosting its signal. From what his boss had explained, the anguish would serve as a beacon to the Abjo. The stronger the fear, the more likely it was that Kyle would come to them.
Javert had an idea to turn up the heat even more. While being nowhere near as adept at shapeshifting as Kushim (who could shift into mere shadows), he could mimic the form of actual creatures he'd personally encountered. One in particular came to mind. His skin rippled and bones cracked as his body elongated and bulked up. His once-human visage morphed into something large and hideous that would terrify even the most valiant warrior.
Their prey literally pissed himself. "What the fuck are you?!"
Javert raked a talon over the hetero's cheek. "The monsters under your bed."
Travis grabbed a handful of dog food and ate it. "I'll do anything you want. Please, just don't eat me."
"Pick a bone!" Javert snarled. He was all the more amused because he'd taken the form of a kujon, a harmless and fairly docile herbivore from one of the Erkek's other hunting worlds. But Travis didn't need to know that.
And then the mind games kicked into high gear.
§§§
Kyle was essentially amoral. He accepted that about himself. It was rather hard to be a prolific killer without addressing one's own morality or lack thereof. But there were a very few things he simply wouldn't do. One of them was having sex with an underage boy. And in the case of a virgin who was of age, Kyle never initiated it. No, the virgin had to ask him. Sex only with consenting adults was possibly the only moral, if it were a moral, that Kyle had. He never violated it. Kyle had been hoping to take Spencer's virginity tonight, but Spencer hadn't asked. So, Kyle just had to be disappointed.
After Spencer went to his room, Kyle went out into the night. It was time. The nooner with Charles had been productive, hopefully filling his magical reserves enough for what he had planned. Killing the cop had certainly boosted his magic all the more. Now the moon phase was fueling him. But would it be enough?
It was not out of any love of astronomy or any other science that Kyle knew what the current moon phase was. No, he knew because it was just the way his magic cycle worked. It was like the stages of an orgasm. Just before the full moon was the sexual thrill coming to a crescendo. The full moon itself was the first contraction of the orgasm. The time just after the full moon was the cum spraying forth in all its glory. Only it was not a literal orgasm, but the climax of his magic. It was just a few hours past the full moon, so his magic was shooting forth and would be until dawn.
Would he be able to find this witness to his murder of Jackson and his other crony, whose name turned out to be Wilmer Pislik? The third one, the one that got away, was what he needed extra magic for. And Kyle didn't even know his name.
He found a quiet spot outdoors, sat down, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He focused his thoughts, letting the magic within him expand. It was only during the first few hours after a full moon that he could do this. He didn't hear voices, not literally. It was more like a murmur of consciousness.
Last night he had sensed Jackson's goon's mind, though he couldn't actually read it. Could he find it again out of the millions in the city? It was like trying to find a specific conversation in a stadium full of screaming fans. He didn't know if he could do it, but he would try. He had all night. And, if in the process, he found some more people to put on his to-be-murdered roster, that was an added perk.
He felt a tug, a nudge in his mind. There, two blocks down, turn left, third house down the street, there was a woman who was hitting her husband with a bat. No, wait, the husband was an abusive drunk. She was just defending herself--quite successfully. More power to her, as far as Kyle was concerned. He dismissed the scene and focused back on the task at hand.
Kyle kept searching. He picked up just the merest hint of the mind of Jackson's goon, but it was too faint. No way could he lock in on it. Fuck! He needed more magic. Finding someone to fuck would take too long. So, he would have to kill someone in a hurry, someone really nasty. He opened his mind as much as he could.
There was a man in the convenience store. Going out for a pack of cigarettes was just a ruse to get his wife to go to sleep without him so he could find somebody to rape. Fuck that shit. He was a dead man walking. Only, did he really want this guy mourned as The Bleeder's latest victim? No. But he would kill him just the same.
Kyle waited in the shadows outside the convenience store, watching as the man bought his smokes. He waited until the man walked by the alley. He grabbed the man from behind, slammed him against the brick wall, and turned him about to face him. "I'm the one they call 'The Bleeder'."
The man's eyes widened with terror. "Please, no!"
"How many times did your victims say that to you when you shoved your motherfucking cock in them?"
The man's eyes grew even wider. His mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.
"I asked how many times your victims said that to you. Now, answer the fucking question!" Kyle's grip tightened around the man's throat. The aroma of fear was thick and potent. It was almost intoxicating.
The man sputtered, his face reddening. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," Kyle said, his grip tightening. "I can see it in your thoughts. I can feel your disgusting desires."
The man trembled. "I-I swear, I don't know what you're talking about!"
Kyle growled, "You've got maybe five minutes of life left in you. So, you might as well tell me the truth."
"Please, please, I'll confess. Anything you want. Just don't kill me."
"You've had your fun," Kyle said tersely. "Now it's your turn to pay."
The man began to beg in earnest. "Please, no. I'll do anything."
"What you're going to do is die because you've been raping your way through Pior Fossa for the last six years."
The man's desperation grew palpable. "Please, I'll stop. I'll get help. I swear to God, I'll change!"
"Fuck you and fuck your sick, twisted, notion of god."
Kyle bit into his shoulder and felt the power surge into him as he drank. The man thrashed and kicked, but that only amused Kyle. He enjoyed the sweet aura of the rapist's fear as it mingled with the coppery taste of his blood. The struggling grew weaker and weaker and then stopped. But the man wasn't quite dead just yet.
"Look at me," Kyle ordered, wiping the blood from his mouth. The rapist obeyed. "I'm going to make sure your wife and son never think of you again. I got into your mind, that's how I knew what you did. And I'm going to get in their minds, too. I will make them forget you. No one, not one fucking person, will give a damn that you're dead."
"What are you? Some kind of demon?"
"Demon? Maybe. Or maybe I'm a vampire. Or maybe I'm something that doesn't even have a name. What I am is something that feeds on the death of assholes like you. Now die, you son of a bitch!"
If it were any other night, he couldn't have done it. But, this night, Kyle somehow knew that he could. He extended his magic and pulled everything out of his prey. Sweet Jesus! The magic surged into Kyle from the murder. Damn he just came in his pants! Murdering shit stains like this man was so empowering.
The man wasn't merely dead. No, Kyle had magically absorbed his entire body. There was nothing left but his clothes and his wallet. Kyle took the cash, but he wasn't quite done yet. He'd meant what he'd told this asshole.
He went into the mind of the man's wife and son. They didn't even suspect what he really was. Kyle made them have no emotions at all for him. In Kyle's way of thinking, feeling nothing for the loss of this man was worse than if they'd hated him had they learned he was a rapist. So, he fixed it so that his family wouldn't give a damn one way or the other about this sick fuck. The third and last person who cared about this man was the brother of the rapist. Kyle started to do the same to him, but then he caught it. The brother knew about the rape and kept the secret. Fuck that. He just made Kyle's kill list. But that could wait. Instead, Kyle made the man have horrific pain that medications couldn't help. Weird. That also gave him a jolt of power. Who knew that magic came from stuff other than murder and sex? He made a note of it.
Kyle's magic was at the highest level it had ever been. He scanned again. There it was! He found the mind of Jackson's goon, the witness. The man's thoughts were terrified, panic-filled, desperate for help. Now Kyle could see into his mind as if he were standing next to him and shouting it. His name was Travis Bingham, and he was in a store called 'Le Chien Royal'. He got the address, too: 186 Fleet Street, over on the rich side of town. The trains ran late on Fridays and Saturdays, so he should still be able to get over there.
The moon was still out when he arrived two hours later, which was good. It was definitely the kind of place that sold dog sweaters and catnip caviar. He could feel the snobbery ooze through the walls. And, yes, Travis Bingham was nearby. Kyle could sense it.
But it was the magic coming from Le Chien Royal that had his full attention. What the hell was going on in there? It was beyond anything he'd ever felt before. It was powerful, dark, and similar to his own. Similar, but not exactly the same.
There were two very hot, very naked, men there; but neither was the one he was looking for. The older one unlocked the door, opened it--and shit! This man had magic spewing off him far beyond anything Kyle had even dreamed was possible. What the actual fuck!
"Hello, Kyle. Do come in."
Thank you for reading my story. I have plans for 20 chapters, if anyone is interested. Please let me know if you think I should continue it. Comments and suggestions are welcome.
My other story on Nifty is "A Hankering for Pecker" which is a comedy about an 19-year-old who comes out to his hillbilly father.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/a-hankering-for-pecker/
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