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The first thing Dimitri noticed when he entered Merrigold State Penitentiary was how quiet it was. The COs’ faces were grim, they worked robotically with deep bags beneath their eyes. Not even the pretty woman at the front desk relieved the tension that hung in the air. They checked them into the system one by one. Anton and Illya sat on either side of him, they had arrested them together and the same judge had convicted them to this penitentiary.
“You know what the hell’s going on with these people?” Anton asked in rapid Romanian.
Dimitri shrugged and shook his head.
“Maybe there’s been a riot?”
Illya hummed beside him. He’d chewed his nails to the root.
“Maybe they don’t get paid well,”
The paint flaked on the walls; cracks were running up the concrete as if no one had bothered to renew it since they had built it. The rest of the prisoners that had transferred with them talked amongst themselves in whispers. As if afraid to disturb the eerie silence.
When they punched everyone in and checked them, they allowed them into the main building that would take them to their sections. It was worse inside, there was a chill in the air that made all the hairs on his body rise. All the windows were fogged over, and the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceilings were unsuccessful in their endeavor to illuminate the corridors.
The COs weren’t joking amongst themselves, it was the first time that Dimitri didn’t hear the COs shooting the shit to pass the time. He’d wrapped the arms of the jumpsuit around his waist. So did Illya and Anton. It was a way to display their tattoos and warn other inmates from getting stupid with them. The chill made Dimitri regret that decision.
“Why is it so fucking cold?” he cursed under his breath.
Anton sucked on his teeth.
“Don’t show weakness, pup,” he said, slapping a hand on his bicep.
Dimitri huffed and rolled his eyes. Behind him, a black kid snorted. Dimitri glared his way and showed him the middle finger. Illya shook his head.
“You’re acting like brats,”
“I’m a brat,” he said with a smirk.
Illya chuckled and ruffled his hair.
“That you are,” he said, “Maybe Yaakov will find more interesting uses for you,”
Dimitri slapped his hand out of his hair. He was about to retort when a loud bang on the ventilation system made the guards freeze. They were in the middle of the corridor. Fogged over windows to one side and mildewed walls on the other. Dimitri saw them take their hands to their hips where their guns were. He tensed, and all the inmates fell silent as well.
It sounded like someone was sprinting through the vents. The smell of death substituted the stench of rotting water. Out of everything he’d done as an underling in his father’s organization, the smell of corpses had stayed with him through the years. It was more instinct than anything that kept them all quiet and still. When the steps receded and disappeared, the COs resumed their walk as if nothing had happened.
A drop of cold sweat fell down his back and disappeared beneath the white wife-beater they had given them. Illya and Anton stared at each other. As they walked, he could hear the other inmates comment on what had happened.
One man, in particular, caught his attention. Dimitri tilted his head back to watch him. He was another black man, with deep wrinkles in his mouth and white hair. He was speaking to the asshole who’d laughed at him before. The kid’s eyes were wide with fear and his lips pulled into a thin line.
“There’s something evil in this place, kid. A Buddy of mine stayed here a few years back. We were good buds, yeah? We wrote to each other every month and shit. In the last letter I got, he told me he was going to be transferred to this place. Last I ever heard of him.” The man said. His expression was grim as he continued with his story. “They told us he’d passed in some gang-related incident. But that’s the thing, kid, my buddy didn’t run with any gangs at the moment. And he’d left his last group on good terms,”
The old man shook his head. His voice was deep and scratchy as if he’d been smoking for over fifty years.
“Dug a little deeper, 'cause I loved that fucking asshole,” he said.
“What did you find?” The kid asked.
“Whispers about how anyone who gets sent here never gets back out,” he said. A shiver shook him. Despite his old age, he still had a robust frame and his jumpsuit stretched across a thick middle section. “Something is living here. That’s picking off all the fuckers who are here one by one. There’s even been some COs disappearing,”
Dimitri swallowed, and Anton slapped his arm.
“Stop listening to that nonsense,” he said.
He pulled his head back to him.
“He’s yanking the kid’s chain,” Illya said. “Don’t let yourself get pulled by it,”
“Probably wants the kid to get all cozy with him at night so he can protect him,” Anton said with a snort. “Bet this friend he’s talking about died from a shank in the showers.”
They chuckled as they kept walking and walking. Dimitri looked past the COs, they should’ve arrived at the end of the hallway already. But no matter how much they walked, it never ended. Goosebumps spread all over his arms. Dmitri rubbed them and side-eyed his friends. Despite the jokes, Illya didn’t look confident.
“Why is this fucking hallway so long?” Illya muttered under his teeth.
He had a thick black beard and startling grey eyes. It had taken Dimitri a lot of ink and gym time to match the level of badassery that Illya and Anton had naturally.
When they finally arrived at the end of the corridor, they turned a sharp corner, only to follow another massive and claustrophobic hallway, just as long as the last.
“Fucks sake,” Anton growled.
From his other stays at other prisons, Dimitri had grown used to the constant murmur of conversation, the opening, and closing of doors, laughter, cries and shouts coming from all around. The silence unnerved him because silence usually came before extreme violence in his world.
There were two heavily guarded doors at the end of the corridor. The closer they got to those doors, the less light they got, it was like the architect had decided that windows weren’t necessary for the last part of the hallway. The smell of mildew became stronger, dark stains were spotted on the walls because of the fungi thriving there.
Their steps echoed on the concrete, the ceilings grew in height in an even slope upwards; the vents were exposed to the air, and they disappeared into the heavy door. Dimitri didn’t know what he expected when they led them past the door situated to the left. But it wasn’t more doors.
There was a row of six entrances. Each of them was guarded by two COs. Men and women looked the same in the uniform, the deep blue stressed their sleep-deprived expressions. They separated them into small groups. Dimitri sighed with relief when Anton and Illya got assigned with him. Along with the old man and the black kid from before.
Even when they called their names, the COs’ voices didn’t have any of the strength and authority. They were subdued and their gazes were almost pitiful as they gave each of them a toiletries bag. One of the COs–a woman by the softness of her features–eyes brimmed with tears.
“Sorry,” she whispered to him.
The door opened with an ominous creak and instead of the noisy welcoming that inmates enjoyed giving newcomers, there was, once again, silence. They had arranged the cells in a square around the walls, leaving the middle empty. There wasn’t any natural light coming in, only a few anorexic fluorescent tubes lit up the entire space. The temperature dropped as they stepped in, there were no guards there, and then, the door closed behind them with a slam.
Dimitri jerked and looked back, his breaths were coming in unevenly. Anton was frowning, and that made him even more worried. Illya shuffled from side to side and the kid from before cursed under his breath.
“What the fuck man,” he said.
Dimitri noticed them first. The other inmates were staring at them from within their open cells. There was something strange about the way they were peering at them. Their eyes followed their movements as they shuffled forward in a group.
“Do you think Yaakov’s here?” Dimitri asked, trying to retrieve normalcy.
Anton stepped ahead and looked into the cells while shaking his head.
“He would’ve come out already,”
The inmates appeared healthy, nothing like how the guards looked like. But there was something wrong with the way they were tracking their movements. Some of them had bite marks on their necks, their clothes were ripped, as if someone had yanked them from their bodies. That’s when he noticed the man. Dimitri had learned from a young age to identify the most dangerous man in any room.
It was a survival tactic for him to stay as far away from that one as he could, and none of the men he’d met through his years living with his father even came close to the menacing aura that, the lone man in the cell directly in front of the door exuded.
Anton’s eyes drew there as well, he caught him by the arm and tugged from him. Illya swallowed thickly and the old man and kid shrunk back at the unrelenting stare.
“Don’t look,” he said to him in a whisper.
He directed his eyes to the side, he could feel all his senses sharpen in the face of danger.
“Do we just choose whatever cell?” he asked.
The silence grew with the tension, none of the inmates exited their cells to greet them, they were just staring at them. Dimitri could feel the eyes of the stranger digging into his face like daggers, he knew it was his paranoia, because why would he attract the attention of a man like that?
Illya was the one who took the lead and walked over to one of the empty cells.
“What about this one?”
They followed him. The first thing Dimitri noticed was the nail marks, human nail marks. Dimitri tracked them with his eyes, there were red smudges left behind and there was one lone fingernail on the ground. As if someone had forgotten to clean it up. Anton, Illya and he exchanged a worried glance.
“This is fucking weird,” he said. “Right? This is not just me, whatever the fuck is going on, it’s not normal.”
Anton scoffed and buried a hand in his thick hair. He swiped it back and gave him a nervous glance, he licked his lips and shook his head.
“Don’t be a pussy,”
“Yeah, Dim, think of what your papa would say,” Illya said, letting out a strangled laugh.
“He would say this is fucking weird too,” he said, turning to look around. “you saw those weirdos? The dude that was just sitting there looking at us, like some creep?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a dude that’s fucked in the head. You’ve been to jail, what? Three times already?” Anton asked.
He clicked his tongue and looked back at Anton. The older man towered above him a few inches but he didn’t give a shit. He had more muscle on him and they both knew it.
“You know what I’m talking about,”
“Let’s relax,” Illya said, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.
Dimitri placed his things on the bed.
“Whatever,”
The buzz of the fluorescents dug into his ear, he could hear the kid and the old man shuffling on the outside, whispering amongst themselves as well. Dimitri needed to drink some water, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and he could feel his heart going faster inside his chest.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Anton swallowing hard before his face set into a frown.
“This is just a normal jail, so what if the inmates don’t speak? That means jack shit,” he said. “both of you are acting like two pussies.”
He pulled his things onto the top bunk near the vent. Dimitri noticed the claw marks followed there, and his stomach churned with unease. Something was going on there. It wasn’t his fucking imagination.
Illya rolled his eyes and settled his stuff on the last bed.
“Besides, it’s better this way, yeah? No CO’s being all nosy and shit, and no loud fuckers that will disturb you while you sleep.”
Dimitri pulled himself to the door and looked outside. There was one opening without a door that led to a shower room and another that led to a lunchroom. There was usually a gym somewhere. Maybe they let them out to exercise from time to time.
Despite there being showers, it smelled foul, it made his nose wrinkle and shift uncomfortably. The man that had been sitting before was now standing on the threshold of the cell and staring straight at him. All the hairs on his neck stood up, Dimitri forced himself to stare back, the worst thing one could do was to show weakness to those types of men.
There was something manic in the man’s eyes. Something in his stare made him ugly and twisted despite his regular features and toned body. He was alone in that cell. None of the other inmates from the surrounding cells looked his way.
That’s when he moved like a viper and slammed his fists on the bars, making a loud clunk that pulled a sharp gasp out of him. His eyes were wide and there was a snarl on his face, he was panting, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked ravenous. Dimitri could feel his blood pumping faster inside his veins, the urge to look away overwhelmed him, he almost screamed when Illya put a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
Dimitri looked at him and back to the man from before. Only to see that there was no one inside the cell he’d been looking into. He was about to speak when the face of the man appeared right in front of him. Illya cursed.
“What the fuck!?”
Dimitri railed away with a curse of his own.
“You’re more than adequate,” the man said to him.
The man’s eyes were black and the crazy glint in them made him take another step back. He moved forward, Anton yelled something behind him and was down from the bunk in the blink of an eye.
Dimitri walked further into the cell. The man’s jumpsuit was broken and stained, his hair fell into his face, his teeth were unnaturally big and his hands kept opening and closing into fists. Dimitri wanted to make himself stand his ground, but there was something about the man that sent all the alarm bells ringing inside his mind.
Anton was the one to shove him and pause his advance. The crazy eyes focused on Anton and the neutral expression he wore shifted into a smile so wide he was afraid the ends of his mouth would break and bleed. His hand snapped to Anton’s wrist, and he squeezed, Dimitri looked between the two of them.
“Ah, I almost forgot, let’s eat first,”
His voice was all wrong, as if it wasn’t coming out of his throat, not really. Anton tried to shove him away, there was a loud thump that came from the vents. Dimitri looked back at it, and he noticed again that the nail marks disappeared into the vent, and bile rose in his throat.
“Let go of him, you fucker!” Illya said, grabbing at the man.
Dimitri was frozen to his spot. The smile increased, and the man laughed, it was like nails on a board, distorted; it didn’t fit the face he wore.
“So many fine nutrients!”
He grabbed Illya’s hair, and he dragged both Anton and Illya out of the cell, his mad cackles sent ice through his veins. Dimitri wanted to make himself move, to rush to his friend’s help. The man paused for one second before he tilted his face his way again.
“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said.
Dimitri couldn’t move as he dragged Anton and Illya outside. They were screaming, trying to get away from the man, Illya was spouting so many insults his way that they blended all together in a mix of Romanian and English. Anton was trying without success to pry the asshole’s fingers away from him.
“You’re going to regret ever laying a hand on me!” Anton screamed, “We will have your balls for this. Do you even know who we work for?”
The man didn’t stop, didn’t pause and Dimitri noticed that the other inmates were inching forward, with excited smiles pulling on their faces. Now that the light was hitting them more directly, he noticed that all of them were extremely handsome. They were a mix of colors and builds, but the thing that they all shared was how unique they looked.
A detached feeling overwhelmed him when he saw the man tilt Anton’s head to the side and dive into his neck, teeth first. He saw how Anton’s eyes widened and then he pulled away, ripping his throat out and spraying blood everywhere. A strangled sound escaped from within his lips. The old man screamed and rushed to the door they had come through, he pounded on it.
Illya and he were frozen in shock as they looked at Anton, trying to stop the bleeding on his neck with his hands. Blood sprayed out of him in small bursts, he didn’t know how long it was; it had to be seconds before Anton’s hands slipped and fell to the sides. And then the man dove into the neck again.
Dimitri moved then, driven by some irrational part within him, but it wasn’t forward to save his friends, no, it was further into the cell. As if he could escape by blending into the walls. He heard the screams then, the wet crunch of bone being broken, and Illya’s hysterical words.
“Oh God, he’s eating him! He’s eating him!”
Dimitri looked around him, trying to find something, a weapon. The other inmates weren’t cheering as they did in other prisons when some shit went down. Only the screams from Illya echoed in the wide space of the block. COs weren’t rushing in, the image of the guard saying sorry flashed through his mind.
He got up and rushed to the door without looking back, because if he looked back, then he wouldn’t be able to hold the breakfast they’d given him in holding. Dimitri punched the door with all his might. The old man was also there with him and the kid too, the three of them were frantically calling for help.
“He’s eating him!” Illya kept screaming. “God, he’s eating him!”
Dimitri screamed until his vocal cords ached and his fists thrummed. His heart rammed against his chest, Illya vomited behind him and the old man and the kid were shaking beside him. He didn’t want to look back; he didn’t want to see what was happening. Despite that, he moved his head to peer back, it was like fighting gravity, he could hear the slurping and when he looked at the scene, he wished he hadn’t.
“Oh god, oh god,” Illya said over and over again. He was being held by the scalp. The man, the thing, was holding onto his hair like a vise. His head was being pushed into his vomit, which was stained with Anton’s blood.
When he looked up, he saw the old man and the kid looking as well. Their eyes were wide as they stared at the scene unraveling before them. That’s when the sound from the vents began.
There was something in his mind that categorically rejected everything that was happening. That type of stuff didn’t happen in real life. The need to escape was something so primal and fierce that he could barely make himself move. Dimitri turned back again and slammed the door, begging whoever was outside it to please let him out.
“He’s eating him!” He screamed, hoping the COs would hear him, “He’s drinking his blood!”
A shiver passed through his body, his knees trembled and he could barely contain the urge to avoid peeing himself. Dimitri turned again and flattened his back to the door. The sounds from the vent were becoming so loud he could barely hear himself think.
Illya whimpered, their eyes met and at that moment Dimitri knew he would never forgive himself for doing nothing as he watched his friends be murdered.
“Help me,” he pleaded.
That’s when he smelt the stench from before. The smell of death, his eyes were drawn to his cell, and the nail marks on the walls were in sharp contrast in the dim room. He wished he hadn’t looked that way, a dark thing burst out of the vent, everything was happening so fast he could barely keep at it.
The kid from before screamed and scratched at the door, trying to pry it open, black fur covered all its back and its head was bald and sickly white with sharp fangs protruding out of its mouth. It was the old man who moved away first and the one who drew the attention of the thing crouching on the ground of his cell.
A loud croon was the only warning before the thing launched itself at the old dude. Meanwhile, the man sighed and shoved his head back, savoring Anton’s blood, Dimitri’s eyes dragged down to the bulge in his pants. The thing was turned on by drinking someone else’s blood, Illya tried to get away to no avail, a quick look over to the other cells drew his eyes to the rest of the inmates pressed against the bars.
Their eyes were glowing as they pressed themselves against the bars, staring at the blood that was spreading through the ground.
“Come, my brides,” the man said, extending his hand towards the cells. “Feed.”
Dimitri didn’t know what the hell he was witnessing, but the men that had kept to the shadows of the cells poured out like ravenous beings and they went straight for Illya and whatever was left of Anton. The creature had cornered the old man off to the side, and the young dude from before was screaming his head off.
“What the fuck! What the fuck!”
His feet dragged on the ground as he tried to push himself further into the door. Illya’s scream dragged his attention back to them and he saw with horror as fifteen men all pounced on him like a pack of rabid dogs. Some of them even licked the blood from the ground. The man’s eyes shifted to his and Dimitri couldn’t hold the whimper and the wet warmth that spread between his legs.
He banged against the door again, in one last vain attempt at the guards to do something, anything, to help him. That was their job, right? That was why they sent them to jail, right? To re-educate them and then send them back to society. Humiliation burned through him when he realized that he’d pissed himself.
“Please,”
The man rose from between the mass of bodies feeding on Illya, his screams had turned into garbled moans. His words echoed through his mind again, he was going to be eaten by that thing. The sick sound of teeth diving into flesh cut the old man’s shriek into a moan.
“— in earth as it is in heaven—” the young kid muttered, his eyes shut tightly and his hands pressed together.
When Dimitri looked back up, the man was there and the smell of blood made him gag, why had he looked at him? Why hadn’t he minded his own fucking business? His fingers were cold on his skin as they brushed over his cheek, Dimitri’s heart squeezed hard enough for him to think he was going to have a heart attack before they consumed him.
“Please,” he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“Shh, no, no, no,”
His hand was sticky with Anton’s blood. Anton, who had been alive and well an hour ago, Anton who he just joked with. Anton, who’d stepped up to help him when the fucker in front of him had threatened him. And now he was dead, half-eaten by cannibal maniacs that were slurping his blood off of the floor.
“The best for last,” he said with a smile so out of place that Dimitri wasn’t able to understand the word he’d said. “Aren’t you happy?”
There was a stone lodged inside his throat, his mind couldn’t wrap around the events unfolding before his eyes. He knew they were real, but they didn’t feel real, it was as if he was in a fever dream he would wake up any time now. The eyes of the monster were terrifying in their darkness, there was a faint red glow to them, but it was muted, the black swallowed everything.
The man’s face contorted from a smile into a frown in an instant, he growled deep in his chest and grabbed his neck.
“I asked you a question. Are you happy?”
Dimitri nodded because he didn’t know what else to do, tears brimmed in his eyes, he had never felt as useless as he was. All his muscles, training, and years of working for his father had served him for nothing when the time came.
The smile returned, his teeth were stained red and his canines were so big he couldn’t keep his mouth fully closed. The gleeful chuckle was so at odds with everything occurring around him it reverberated inside his mind for endless seconds.
“Ah, I knew you would be. So beautiful, such a beautiful boy.” he stroked his cheek with his thumb and left behind a streak of blood. “The warden did good, sent me such a perfect bride,”
Dimitri blinked at the mention of the warden, his mind refused to listen to the second half of the sentence. He was used to brushing off the part that he didn’t enjoy out of everything people said.
The man leaned forward and took a deep breath straight from his neck, and the moan that left his lips made him cringe. Dimitri was acutely aware of the erection the fucker sported. It was hot and when the man stepped further into his space; it pressed into his stained thigh.
“Your fear smells delicious, precious,” he murmured.
His lips were cold on his neck, he rose his head and followed a line with his nose up to his jaw and hair. The man was taller than him and broader, something he hadn’t noticed before. Dimitri didn’t know what the thing was smelling, but the pungent odor of his piss and Anton’s blood wrestled inside his nostrils.
The man looked down and his smile was predatory as he tugged at his jumpsuit. When he peered back at him, the smile got even wider and Dimitri wanted to scream, he was frozen into inactivity. His reptilian brain wrestled with his rational one, it demanded that he lash out and free himself, even if he knew the monster was stronger and faster than him.
The conflicting thoughts kept him pinned right where he was without doing a thing.
“You stained yourself, let me help you out of your clothes,” he said, tugging from his jumpsuit, and untying the sleeves that were tight around his waist.
Dimitri’s hands shot forward, and they gripped the man, he stared with wide eyes at how they circled the other man’s wrists. There was a second when nothing happened and Dimitri almost thought that he was going to stop.
He hadn’t finished forming that thought when the man spun him around and slammed him into the door. His head connected with the steel and stars exploded behind his eyelids, his teeth cut his tongue and blood poured into his mouth.
“I thought you were happy about becoming my bride,” he said against his ear. Dimitri could still hear the moans of pleasure that left the other inmates as they dined on Illya’s body. The crunch of the small bald thing eating the old man, the prayers that fell from the boy’s lips. “Why are you trying to stop me?”
Dimitri opened his mouth, this wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening to him. He had to wake up, and he’d be back in holding, sleeping beside a homeless dude who’d shat himself and a hooker with smudged mascara. There were no man-eating things, no monsters who lived inside vents, those things didn’t exist in real life, they were tales, stories told to scare kids from doing nasty shit.
“Please,” he said, closing his eyes, “Please, please, wake up,”
He could feel the erection pressed against his ass and deft hands untying his jumpsuit again. The cold air bit into the skin of his lower half as he pulled down his pants and underwear. The man clicked his tongue and shook his head, he massaged his ass and caressed his way up his sides.
“We will need to wash you,” he said, pressing a cold kiss against his nape.
A shiver coursed through him, he had his fists closed on each side of his head as he tried to will himself into wakefulness.
“Such a pretty addition to my collection,” he murmured under his breath, taking off his wife-beater and exploring his back with his icy hands. “Such a wonderful new bride,”
His voice was bordering on reverent as he mapped his way up to his neck, the moment he was completely nude he forced him away from the door. His eyes fell on the carnage in front of him.
Fifteen men were licking their way into Illya’s remains, and that’s when he noticed they weren’t eating the meat, they were just tonguing it, taking all the juices. He couldn’t hold it anymore, he vomited all over himself.
Some inmates looked his way. They stared at the man holding him upright and made a deep crooning noise at the back of their throats.
“So messy,” the man said, wiping his vomit-stained mouth with his thumb. “Don’t worry love, I will take care of everything for you,”
Dimitri’s cock shriveled as if it was trying to climb inside his body to avoid the cold. Some inmates came over to them. Dimitri tried to thrash in the man’s grip, but he held him close.
“Shh, they will not hurt you,” he said, chuckling.
“Nicklas?” One of them asked.
The name didn’t fit the monster behind him, that was a normal person’s name. It wasn’t tetric or dramatic, that was the name of an average dude who liked to take coffee in the morning and maybe cat nap after a big meal. The one who’d spoken was taller than him, with impressive green eyes and thick lashes that rivaled many models.
“Hmm?” Nicklas asked, wiping a bit of Illya’s blood from his full lips.
“More?” he asked, looking at the kid, who was still praying on the ground.
Nicklas shook his head.
“That’s for Montgomery,”
The bald thing looked up from eating the old man and let out a small hiss at the model-looking man. Dimitri almost let out a loud hysterical laugh at the bald thing being called something as ridiculous as Montgomery. The model huffed and pouted, there were gang-related tattoos all over his body. Russian.
The model looked at him and gave him a tiny smile, he touched his cheek and bent down to kiss it. Dimitri jerked back and found a rock-solid chest, there were bite marks on the model’s neck and his lips left behind a stain of Illya’s blood. The model’s lips were deathly cold as well, and he found that there were the same large canines in his mouth as well.
“I like him,” he said with a nod.
Nicklas hummed behind him.
“The warden always sends me his best,” he said, and with that, he dragged him away from the model and towards the showers.
The model waved, and the other inmates rallied around him, pressing their foreheads into his shoulders and neck. Whining about still being hungry, the model chastised them. Some of them were eyeing Montgomery, who was circling the corpse of the old man, and the praying kid growling at all inmates that looked too closely at them.
Nicklas moved him and it was like he was in a waking dream, the cold had numbed his toes and it stung his legs. His vomit dried on his chest, and drops of piss rolled down his legs and onto the ground. In a distant part of his mind, he could understand what was about to happen, there was only one reason someone would take a naked dude into the showers.
It wasn’t as if it had been the first time he’d been raped, everyone was until you got strong enough to do the raping yourself. The key to living through it was to weather it, remove your mind from your body, and deal with it. Life kept going after and as long as he was alive, he didn’t care; he didn’t give a shit.
Nicklas stripped and his body was even more impressive than when he’d been wearing the ripped jumpsuit. Tears were slipping down his cheeks in an even stream. Nicklas’s cock was big, with a thick vein on the underside, there was some part of him that knew that it would hurt like a motherfucker.
“Tears of joy over your predicament,” Nicklas said with that unnerving smile. “You can’t understand how happy that makes me,”
Dimitri slumped down on the tiles of the open-concept showers, unable to move one muscle. The way Nicklas moved wasn’t normal, every movement was fluid, too fast to be human, too graceful. When he opened the water, it poured on him cold enough to make him gasp.
Nicklas forced him up like he weighed nothing. His teeth began chattering right away. The pressure of the water gave him a headache, but it did a good job of cleaning away all the piss and vomit.
Nicklas lathered him up in soap, he was thorough with it, cleaning between his fingers, and massaging his scalp. When he reached for his cock and balls Dimitri closed his eyes, he didn’t want to look, he tried to retreat into his mind but Nicklas grabbed his hair in a vice grip.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
He shook his head, the tears were warm against his cheeks among the freezing water. Nicklas growled under his breath and his grip on his scalp increased.
“I want to see your lovely eyes,”
Dimitri pressed his lids even more tightly, the hand was still on his groin, cleaning there. The pressure increased until he let out a gasp of pain.
“Open up or you will regret it,” he said between clenched teeth.
Couldn’t he let him have that, at least? Couldn’t he let him wander away from whatever was happening right then? There was a sob building in his throat, but he squashed it down. He pried his eyes open and Nicklas beamed at him, he looked so happy it made his stomach roil.
“There they are, so pretty, so brown, pretty brown. Like wet earth after a thunderstorm, honey in the sun,”
He moved forward and pressed their lips together, Dimitri tried to jerk away from the kiss, he bit Nicklas’s tongue when it tried to enter but Nicklas just hummed in pleasure and pressed harder. He was bleeding into his mouth and Dimitri’s eyes widened when he noticed how much of it there was. It was flooding his mouth.
The surprise allowed Nicklas to delve deeper, and he turned his head to press further in. Dimitri went along with it, unable to do anything in the face of that much eagerness. Nicklas pulled away, his grin firmly on.
“Now it’s time to make you enjoy,” he said.
The taste of the blood inside his mouth was unpleasant, and it was buzzing on his tongue. Warmth spread down his throat and to his stomach. He let out a gasp when that warmth continued to spread through his body, he watched in horror how his cock thickened inside Nicklas’s grip.
Dimitri tried to pry his hand away from him, he shook his head as panic rose within him once again.
“No,” he said.
He wasn’t getting hard on this; he wasn’t, the dude had murdered his friends, he’d eaten them, and he was going to rape him. It had to be a fear boner; it had to, he licked his lips, his throat felt parched, and he opened his mouth to get some of the water pouring on them to wet himself.
Nicklas let out a hum of pleasure and continued to wash him. His cock bobbed as he moved down to wash his legs and then he turned him over to his knees.
They bit into the washed-over tile of the showers, Dimitri let out a painful exclamation, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out more. He’d noticed that the more sounds one made, the more brutal the fucking. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for being breached, knowing that the pain would make his erection disappear.
And instead of that, he got more soap up to his legs, between them, two fingers massaged their way into his perineum and then pressed at his hole without entering. Dimitri let out a shuddering breath, he didn’t know if the water was getting warmer or if he was so cold that it felt warm.
His eyes unfocused and focused again, he could hear his blood thrumming past his ears like white noise. The thirst increased and something was pressing on his gums he let out a low whine and prodded with his tongue at it. Panic suffused his body when he felt something sharp against it, and then a soapy finger pressed into him.
Dimitri clenched on it and let a shiver wrack down his spine, Nicklas hushed him and massaged more soap into his lower back, the water was getting unbearably hot at that point, and his breaths came out unevenly, it was as if there wasn’t enough air inside the room. His fingers gripped at the tile. He looked down at his cock, which was still thick between his legs, his balls had dropped once again now that it was warm.
There was a tingly feeling all over his body, and then he realized what must’ve happened.
“You drugged me,” he said between pants. Dimitri frowned, because when could he have drugged him? He was so thirsty, his throat felt parched, saliva kept pooling into his mouth and the pressure on his gums kept increasing.
Nicklas chuckled behind him and pressed the finger inside him deeper into him as a spark of pleasure raked up his spine and he arched with it. Drool escaped his mouth and mixed with the water. He choked on a moan, his eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling. He could count the amount of mildew accumulating there as if he was looking at it from an inch away.
“No,” he shook his head. No, this couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t getting off on this.
Dimitri tried to move away, but Nicklas grabbed his hips and directed the lone finger inside of him into him again. His eyes rolled into his skull and he chased the feeling with a tilt of his hips. Self-hatred raced through him as he panted. He’d spent seven years in and out of prison. He’d raped people and had been raped and he had never enjoyed either.
What he enjoyed the most was a willing pussy, wet and welcoming to him, that clenched around his cock, and loved every minute. So what the fuck, what the fuck was happening right then? He was abused with the finger for long minutes before a second one joined in, stretching him further. Dimitri tried to crawl away. Nicklas pressed him on his knees against the wall of the showers, his cock brushing over the tiles.
They were so warm too, there was something past the bathroom that smelled so good he couldn’t stop salivating, and there was something inside his mouth that made it hard for him to close it. His vision had become even better than before. He was sure that he could notice a fly on a window a hundred feet away. Nicklas draped himself over his back, pressing him against the wall, breathing into his neck.
The warm erection brushed against his lower back as he kept spreading him open with his soaped fingers. He kept humming under his breath at a frequency that was making his muscles unclench. Dimitri shook his head when the spark of pleasure made his balls draw up and his cock impossibly hard, seeking whatever friction it could.
“Please, stop,” he said, “Please, please, I don’t want this,”
Nicklas tilted his head, so it rested on his shoulder, and he kissed him again. That time it was Nicklas himself that bit his tongue and let it bleed into Dimitri’s mouth. And that time it tasted so good to him, he moaned. He sucked on the muscle, trying to draw more away from it. They kissed in a messy tangle of tongues. His stomach quivered as he tried to make sense of what the hell it was that was happening to him.
“If you don’t want it, why are you so aroused, love?” Nicklas asked.
“Don’t call me that,” he said, trying to elbow him on the stomach. He was dizzy, the world was going too fast, his eyes couldn’t focus on one thing at a time, and he was looking at everything at the same time.
Nicklas chuckled and speared his prostate with his long fingers, messing him up even further. The tile broke under the pressure of his hands and Nicklas nibbled at his neck. Dimitri had never felt something as pleasurable as the scrape of teeth over the sensitive flesh of his throat.
“What is happening?” he asked. Fear kept wrestling its way past the haze of pleasure, he didn’t want to be enjoying anything of what was happening. The tears returned with a vengeance as Nicklas nailed his prostate and licked his neck.
He was between the need to press into the pleasure and flee from it. His heart thundered in his chest. Nicklas’s warm cock spread pre-cum over his lower back and he let his other hand roam all over his stomach and up to his nipples. He pinched them and applied his tongue to the lobe of his ear.
“No, no, no–fuck, god, please, ah, ah,”
Nicklas started a pace with his fingers, angling them so that they brushed over his bundle of nerves but never hit it straight on. When he added a third, Dimitri couldn’t even recall why he was there. He was so hungry, his cock was so hard, and his head was so fuzzy. When they kissed again, he lost himself in it, and then Nicklas turned him around and pushed him onto the floor. Nicklas towered over him. He took one of his long legs and placed it over his shoulder, pressing his cock against his hole.
His dick was weeping pre-cum all over before it was washed away by the water. Nicklas had that same horrible smile from before, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. He had eaten his friends; he said to himself, trying to bring back the horror he had felt before. Dimitri’s eyes drew towards Nicklas’s neck and the thick vein there. He opened his mouth and gasped. He wanted to bite into it.
“There you are, my bride,” he said in a purr. Nicklas lined his cock and pressed the head to his hole. Dimitri grabbed his arm and for a moment he didn’t know if he wanted to drive him forward or press him back. The decision was made for him a few seconds later as the inexorable press of his dick overwhelmed him. “So perfect,”
Dimitri hadn’t felt any type of pleasure from being dicked down, it was something that happened to him and that he had to deal with. It was slightly more pleasurable to get into someone’s tight asshole, but men weren’t his cup of tea. Their holes were hairy and, more often than not, their hygiene was lacking. So he was so confused about what he was feeling.
His mind didn’t understand why it felt so good, why he was almost choking to get that dick deeper into him. Dimitri tilted his hips up and moaned when Nicklas bottomed out, he was full of cock, and for once in his life; he was on the verge of coming because of it. His body trembled and his grip on Nicklas’s arm increased.
“Let me go,” he begged because if he cummed on someone’s dick, his entire life would be upended. “Please, let—fuck, ah,”
Nicklas moved then, one fluid drag back, and then he was fucking him. Dimitri’s eyes crossed and his balls drew up with the need to spend themselves. His body squeaked on the tile. The water kept pouring on them so warm, so good.
Nicklas looked down at him with satisfied smugness. He pressed forward and crashed their mouths together, and they ate each other. Dimitri kept him where he was with a hand on the back of his neck. No one’s kiss had ever felt like that.
The way he tasted, God, it was too good. It was like eating all your favorite foods at the same time. He couldn’t get enough. They moved together and Dimitri felt himself lose himself more and more as time continued to drag on. Nicklas pressed his face to his neck and Dimitri latched on. He nibbled at the skin there, worried it between his teeth. Nicklas growled, and his fucking became even more savage.
The thick cock spread his hole squelching with each drag, his balls rocked with the savage movements. Dimitri whined as he felt his oncoming orgasm. Nicklas cradled the back of his neck and allowed him to keep mouthing at his neck.
“Bite, my love,” he murmured into his ear.
Dimitri inhaled and before he could even think, he was already biting down and Nicklas’s blood was flowing into his mouth like a torrent. It exploded into his tongue and the flavor was so good he thought he could never get enough of it in his life. He moaned around the wound he’d made and tensed in Nicklas’s arms.
“That’s it, my bride,” he crooned. “So good, so good,”
All the feelings, the emotions, and the blood made his balls draw up, his orgasm ripped through him without even touching his cock. Dimitri took his mouth away and wailed at how good it was. Tears rolled down his eyes, blood poured from his mouth mixed in with saliva and his eyes blacked out as thick ropes of cum burst out of his dick.
Nicklas kept moving inside of him, riding him through his orgasm, and then he was the one who slammed into him and roared, clamping down on Dimitri’s neck. That’s when the second orgasm overwhelmed him, his cock filled with blood again, and cummed for the second time. Dimitri couldn’t distinguish up from down or left from right.
He could feel Nicklas cum deep inside his ass, it was warm and his cock pulsed inside his hole, spending itself inside of it. His neck was pleasantly numb as Nicklas drank from it. He relaxed into the tile, all his muscles ached from the fucking and he licked the blood that had spilled all over him. Nicklas pulled away from him with a satisfied sigh and pressed their mouths together.
They kissed like they hadn’t seen each other in years, Dimitri was so out of it he couldn’t remember why he wouldn’t want exactly that for the rest of eternity. Nicklas cleaned him again, with care, cooing and making soft sounds on the back of his throat. He gathered him in his arms and led him to a rack with towels. He was careful when he dried him up and Dimitri couldn’t stop staring at him, at his face, the way his eyes soaked up all the light in the room.
Why had he ever thought that he looked terrifying? He reached for his face and touched it with his fingers. It was warm and the smell exuding from him was delicious. Nicklas peered back at him with a smile and brushed his face with the back of his hand.
“Hi,” he said, “Would you like to choose your name or keep the one you have?”
Dimitri frowned.
“Dimitri is fine,” he said.
Nicklas nodded.
“Dimitri,”
The way he pronounced it made him shiver. He looked down at his already thickening cock. Nicklas grinned and kissed him again.
***EPILOGUE***
-OPTIONAL READ-
Brad rearranged himself on the luxurious chair in his office. There was a large mahogany desk in front of him that displayed a photo of his beautiful wife and his young son in front of their newly remodeled home. General Carmichael crossed his legs on the chair on the other side of his desk as he read over the report. He hummed under his breath and peered at him.
“And this report is accurate?” He asked.
Amusement laced with pride raced through him. He pushed his chest forward and nodded.
“As the warden of Merrigold, I’ve following closely this experiment of ours. I can assure you, the results far surpass our expectations.”
Carmichael looked down at the report again. His brow raised as he continued to read through the report.
“Brides?” He asked, looking up at him. “I thought this was an all-male penitentiary,”
“That’s what they call their companions, regardless of gender,” he said.
Carmichael turned his face at that. Brad was quick to explain further.
“These… things, they’re extremely social, they need to care for their brides, provide so that they can develop a purpose. Plus, the brides are the perfect incentive to make them do whatever we want,” he said, “Their previous culture worshipped them like gods, so we’ve taken to treating them as such. We’ve found they were more willing to do as we ask when we do.”
Carmichael still sported that sour face. Brad had to control himself not to roll his eyes. He needed funding from the government to keep the project going, so his pockets stayed lined with the money he would need to take his kid through college without debt.
“I see. So these vampires? Are the new answer to a brand new black ops team?” His tone was heavily sarcastic. “How old are these fucks?”
Brad felt disappointment ring through him at the tone of the General. He frowned and re-arranged himself on the table. The light glared through the big window behind him.
“According to our science team, they’re around five hundred years old, but they’ve spent a large part of that time in a slumbering state. Until Mason dug them up on the graveside in Africa.” He cleared his voice. He had to sell the product or all his hard work would be for nothing. “I can introduce them to you so you can assess their value,”
Carmichael seemed to perk up at that, and some of the confidence that had bled out from him returned.
“That would be adequate,”
With agile fingers, Brad pressed a combination of digits on the landline beside him and requested exactly what he’d promised to be prepared.
“Follow me, please,”
As they made their way to the lower levels of the prison, the lights dimmed and the windows fogged over. The temperature dropped drastically. His new shoes squeaked on the dirty floor and the COs watched them pass with lowered stares.
“You selected repeat offenders who didn’t look like they would change their ways, correct?” Carmichael asked. The file was still in his hand.
Brad nodded.
“Exactly. Most of them are gang-related. You know there are a lot of casualties and disappearances are easily covered with some gang-related violence. It was the best way to get fresh blood and brides.”
“So, these things are homosexual?”
Brad shrugged.
“I wouldn’t call them that. I mean, they’re barely human,” he said. “You will see when we get there.”
Brad opened a heavily reinforced door that opened into a room divided by bulletproof glass as thick as an entire man laying down. Carmichael’s bald head shone under the fluorescent lights. There were six doors where the six specimens had been divided. Each of them with a harem and prey.
A guard walked in after they had. Brad nodded at him and the crackle of the walkie disturbed the silence.
“Open them up, over.”
“Copy Ramirez, over,”
Carmichael sighed and tapped his foot on the ground. Irritation flared inside his stomach as he watched the general look at his wristwatch once again. It was obvious that the fucker didn’t believe a word of what he’d read. The doors opened, the noise muffled by the thick glass. There were small holes on the top of the glass to allow noise to pass through.
Brad hated the bald familiars that had awoken with the vampires and that crawled all over their vent system. But the creepy fuckers would spook the hell out of Carmichael and, just for that, he wished they would come out with their masters.
Their smell was the first thing that hit him. He saw Carmichael scrunch his nose up in disgust. It smelled like rotting flesh, slightly sweet and pungent. His primal brain demanded that he shrink away from the glass, press himself to the wall, and escape from the room as fast as his feet could carry him. His only consolation was that by how shiny Carmichael’s head was becoming, the man was feeling the same.
They hadn’t even stepped out from within the dark confines of their cages and they could already feel their presence like they were there, in front of them. Brad licked his lips and fisted his hands to keep them from trembling.
“They’re the apex predator of our planet,” he said. “I’m sure you can notice how powerful it feels to be in their presence.”
Nicklas was the first one to step out. From a distance, he didn’t look like anything in particular, but the closer he got, the worse it got. All the minor details of his face became increasingly disturbing, the eyes that seemed to eat the surrounding light, how he moved, decidedly inhuman. His brides gathered at the door, watching them with suspecting eyes.
“What the fuck is that?” Carmichael exclaimed.
He took his eyes away from the boy he’d sent over to Nicklas’ enclosure a few days ago. There was something that he’d found incredibly attractive in him when he’d gotten his report, and he knew right away he would make a wonderful addition. And from the fresh puncture marks on his neck, Nicklas was enjoying the offering.
“That’s Montgomery, General” Nicklas said.
His voice was just as horrible as the rest of him, like nails on a chalkboard. Montgomery tilted its bald head and crooned at Nicklas, nuzzling his thigh with its short nose. He almost gagged at the display. It was something so deeply disturbing he couldn’t help but rip his eyes away.
“How do you know who I am?”
Carmichael looked pasty. From the depths of the other cells, the other five emerged one by one. Despite their appearances, they all shared one thing in common; the unsettling feeling that even if they looked human, they weren’t one.
The oppressive feeling of having all six of them released in front of them weighed down on him. He was lucky he always came into work pissed and shat.
Orpheus, the dark ebony vampire, chuckled. All his hair rose at the sound of it.
“We know a lot of things, humans,” he said, “and you wear your distinction in your jacket.”
Orpheus was the worst of them, in his opinion. His harem was the littlest, his thirst was unquenchable, and his humor was as unstable as mercury. The general snapped his eyes down to his jacket, where he wore his distinction.
“Right,” he cleared his voice and turned to Brad, “I think I’ve already seen what I needed to see,”
The third and the fourth vampire chose that moment to appear. Their features were distinctly east Asian, with eyes as dark as Nicklas but with the addition of tattoos on their skins. Something none of the others wore. Katsumoto and Biamba. Their creatures snarled at the other two hairy tiny things.
“Leaving so soon?” Katsumoto asked, tilting his head to the side. His face moved, imitating the emotion of surprise but not getting it quite right.
Biamba touched Orpheus’ shoulder, not paying attention to him or Carmichael.
“I could hear how you tortured them for days,” he said. “it was exquisite,”
Orpheus chuckled.
“Always want to make them sing for you,”
There was something sensual in their interaction, so deeply intimate Brad had to look away.
“I’ve heard enough,” Carmichael said, not addressing the vampires. “Let’s talk outside,”
The brides murmured amongst each other on the threshold, guarding over their masters. The last two joined them at last, warriors from the northern tribes. Ivar and Björn. Their size made their movements even more strange. No one of their height should move so fluidly. They tried a few emotions with their faces before they settled them into a smile.
“Let’s go,” Brad said, turning to the door.
Orpheus slammed his fist on the glass.
“Is this the respect you show to your betters!?”
He looked back at Ramirez.
“Send them some extra into their enclosures.”
Ramirez paused before he nodded.
“When do we close them up again?”
“They will return when they want to,”
He spared one last look behind him. Nicklas was offering his hand to the young new bride. The pallor of death suited him, his brown eyes were brighter and curiosity shone in them. As he and Carmichael exited, the other brides stepped into the glassed space, and he almost caught the beginning of their conversations before the doors locked again.
“Well?”
Carmichael pulled out a handkerchief and patted his bald head with it.
“Are you sure you can control them?”
“As long as we keep the brides, they will return,”
He nodded.
“Good, good,” he cleared his voice, “I will deliver the news to the president.”
Brad brightened up.
“They’re impressive beasts,”
-THE END-