Page 106 of Phobia

At some point, I sense him carrying me. I detect the awakening dawn like a sour scent in the air, something instinctual, like my body’s defense against one of the only dangers it now knows.

Silas takes me below ground then. Lays me in a coffin in the basement of some sort of mortuary. And then he lies down beside me, and all is right in the world. I find sleep. Better sleep than I’ve ever experienced. Sleep like the dead.

I awaken in my coffin, feeling renewed and refreshed and completely reinvigorated. An altogether new man. I’m curled under Silas’s arm, and he stares down at me with a fond smile as he brushes my hair from my face. Despite the complete darkness and the lid over the top of us, I can make out all his features in startling clarity.

“Hello, my love,” he breathes.

“Hello,” I whisper back. He’s hard to look at, he’s so gorgeous. I can hardly believe he’s real.

“I have an idea I want to propose,” he says softly, gently, as if attempting to tread lightly. Curious, I stare up at him. I can’t imagine ever declining something he suggests.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I know Mickey wasn’t the only one of your brothers who hurt you.”

I don’t ask him how he knows. I’m not surprised he does.

“They hurt you, and they continue to hurt others in your father’s name. Your father’s business. They won’t stop. They profit off the misfortune, the pain, of the innocent. And they will keep doing it as long as they go unchallenged.”

I don’t deny this. But then, none of that has ever really interested me. I was so concerned with getting away, with just living, that anything else was a fleeting glimmer in the back of my mind. I never paid any mind to how my father made his fortune, nor how my brothers persisted in keeping hislegacyalive. I was so focused on my own pain. On my own life. I wait for him to say more.

“What if we paid them back for all the pain they’ve caused?” Silas asks, his brow set and serious. He doesn’t detail what those words mean, but I know. And the prospect excites me beyond compare.

Somehow, some darkness awoke within me when he gave me his gift. A thirst for blood and revenge so potent and pure, the thought of killing them, of destroying them completely, fills me with arousal. My cock swells, and I begin to rut against his leg.

He hums a little chuckle and presses a kiss to my forehead as his hand slides between us to grasp my aching shaft. “You like that idea, do you?”

“Yes,” I whimper. “Let’s pay them back.”

I find out quickly that Silas is an exorbitantly wealthy creature. Old world. Old money. With charisma and charm that allows him to build and keep his empire with only a nod of his head and a wave of his hand. He has several homes across the upper East Coast of the United States. All extravagant and richly decorated, with hosts of servants to tend to the properties in his absence. He also has properties overseas. Though I haven’t yet seen them, I believe he even has a castle or two. He has everything any human being could ever desire … but Silas is not human. And riches and luxuries have done nothing to feed his immortal soul.

He longs for something more, something far greater. And he inspires that desire in me as well. He’s not a cruel man, but in him lies an innate desire for justice, to right the wrongs of the world. That’s why he kills evildoers. That’s why he saved me. That’s why he so longs to help me seek my revenge.

He takes his time formulating his plans, and I don’t push him. I know he wants to make sure I’m ready, that I’m not the same weak-willed boy I was before. That I won’t balk when I stand in front of my brothers, back down when faced with their wrath. That I’m fully prepared to do what is necessary to take my vengeance. So I soak up the time we have, learning more and more about him. Allowing him to seduce me, to capture my heart as he captured my soul.

He says little about his past, about who he was when he was human. I don’t push him, though I so long to know. He says it's because his past doesn’t interest him, that who he was back then seems like a man from another life entirely. Perhaps one day I’ll feel the same.

“What matters now is the present, my love. The life we’re creating with one another. How we can use this gift we’ve been given to right some of the wrongs of this world.”

I wonder what happened to him that instilled such a passion for justice and good. Especially when he kills with such abandon, with such … joy.

Because he does. Kill with joy. He teaches me to do the same. But only with evildoers—only with those that truly deserve it.

“Watch them first. Spend time observing their movements,” he tells me. “Pay attention, and their intentions will become clear.”

We spend time stalking our prey, following them down darkened alleys and waiting for them to show their true aims. The darkness in their hearts. We seek out the most unscrupulous, the most dangerous, those with the most insidious of objectives. And then we take pleasure in killing them. Silas takes great care in my education in these matters.

Though for me, it’s not something that needed to be taught. I’ve discovered something much deeper, much darker, about myself, something my vampyrism awakened.

I love to kill. I love blood. I love it in a way I never before imagined.

I would bathe in it if I could, cover every inch and orifice of my body in its thick warmth. Blood is like oxygen. Like sex. And I’ve discovered I like sex a great deal.

When we kill, we fuck. He ravishes me, worships me. I come whimpering his name, his cock stuffed so far inside me I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. I make him stay inside for hours, rocking back and forth, coaxing him back to hardness, plugging me up with blood and semen until I feel I could burst.

This ritual goes on for weeks. Killing. Fucking. Killing. Fucking. Drinking blood, wanting more, more, more.

Each night that passes, I begin to long more and more for their blood. My brothers’ blood. I know Silas sees it. I know he longs for it just as badly as I do. I can sense a change in him,a fierce determination, a quiet pride as he watches me kill on my own, watches me take joy in the taking of life.