Survival Of The Fittest

The blood smeared on Shu's fangs and across his lips matched the red of his eyes and his soul. He grinned even deeper as he kept Josh bound, working deeper into his heart.

His suffers. His dreams. His fears. Shu saw it all. Josh was so much like Kiera in so many ways. So pitiful and beautiful, but so pathetic.

And just like her, he would be his.

Are you going to follow the rules? Or follow your instincts?


s̸̯̪͘ț̸̨̓͌a̶̲̔t̴̳͚́ï̷̻̘̦̈ç̸͍͖̈̇ ̵͍͚͐̐͑s̴̠͚͐ṫ̴̙̀̈́a̴̧̜̒ṭ̶͍̇̐͋ͅi̸͙̬̅c̴̳͐̿ ̵̺̙̺͊̿͘s̵̬̊t̶̯̟̦͌̅͝a̴̬͗̅̄t̷̗̓͗̿í̴̡̤͐c̸̙͊ ̴̢̯͋͊̅


CAMERA #149

CONNECTED

STUDENT 081, 102

The correctional cell was in the research base. Previously when the research base was in use, the correctional facility would be used in the event of a resident breaking laws of if someone was inebriated beyond control. There was one cell with metal bars and a fully-furnished cot.

The walls and floor of the cell were gray cement. The bars were made of iron. The sun was setting. The sole source of light is the setting sun’s light coming through the one window of the room.

ADJUSTING DUE TO LOW-LIGHT CONDITIONS

ISO 1600

WARNING: ISO ABOVE 800 WILL RESULT IN HIGHER VIDEO GRAIN

Student 081 was without his clothing — collar remained on, no need for AT alert. 081 was breathing heavily, not to a medically notable degree, laying on the cot. He slid off the cot and kneeled before the length of the mattress.


s̸̯̪͘ț̸̨̓͌a̶̲̔t̴̳͚́ï̷̻̘̦̈ç̸͍͖̈̇ ̵͍͚͐̐͑s̴̠͚͐ṫ̴̙̀̈́a̴̧̜̒ṭ̶͍̇̐͋ͅi̸͙̬̅c̴̳͐̿ ̵̺̙̺͊̿͘s̵̬̊t̶̯̟̦͌̅͝a̴̬͗̅̄t̷̗̓͗̿í̴̡̤͐c̸̙͊ ̴̢̯͋͊̅


The more Shu touched him, the more his mind melted down the ore of complex thoughts until only pure emotion and sensation remained.

"You’re gonna kill me," he said in an affectionately tortured whisper.

He sat up and maneuvered until his knees hit the ground. Shu sat on a stone altar before him.

"I love you," Josh said softly with deadly earnest as he looked up at him. "I love you. I love you." He said it like a mantra, and it didn’t matter what Shu said or felt in return because it was an immutable sentiment in that moment.

Shu grabbed the back of his head and pushed him forward.

And Josh did feel love, overwhelmingly so, for this person who accepted him, noticed him, remembered him, validated him.

I’m seduced. He’s a lot stronger than I thought.

Hard to think at all.

Then don’t.

Just open your mouth. And stick out your tongue.

His blood, skin, the air around him, all felt like they were on fire. He was pleasantly consumed by it and he consumed in turn.

Josh soon moved on his own. Shu was no longer pushing and pulling him, just tangling his fingers in his hair, tightening his grip. His tongue flattened and curved.

I like this.

Drowning with no wish to ever be rescued.

Maybe this is what I was always meant to do. Not just this, but all of it.

His moans were muffled but those of his partner weren’t, and they pushed him even farther into a lush thoughtlessness.

Suddenly his hair was yanked back. He was so startled he resisted being pulled back at first. Josh looked up with besotted eyes and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he read the gaze and he understood.

He laid on the altar as a languid, wicked sacrifice.

A blinding blast of light revealed itself from the heavens and cut through the sea of fire and ash, right over Shu. The beads of sweat and smears of blood on his naked skin shimmered and glistened as they trickled off his claws and fangs and onto Josh's bare chest, burning it like acid as he hovered over him.

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All your fears, all your sorrows. Let them melt.

Josh’s arms were bent at the elbow and his hands were by his face, palms up.

He inhaled sharply, back arching, hands grasping.

I don’t know if I can do this.

His arm swung down, holding a hand that emerged from the black depths, holding someone’s hand that was as cold as he was hot, someone who wasn’t there. But it calmed him.

It’s far too late to go back. All you can do now is endure and enjoy.

His feet pointed and flexed like a dancer's with each long motion. A deep flush crossed his face. What he remembered most clearly was the muscle of Shu’s shoulder where it met his arm, and that he thought it was handsome.

He settled into an addicting rhythm, like his body had always known how to move. Shu kissed him so savagely it was hard to keep pace. Lips pulling on his, tongue sliding on tongue. Mentally and physically he was starting to buckle, threatening to unspool like thread and become nothing. Pain and pleasure together, mixing and becoming something new like two shades of paint becoming a different and unexpected color.

"More," was all he could say. He never wanted to hear "no" ever again.

"More," he gasped.

He could feel his pulse racing. He whimpered and begged. He lost the ability for language and felt like he could float. Josh's back arched so severely he looked possessed, looked like he was a puppet with a string attached to his heart and that an invisible hand was yanking upwards. His breath caught. White light flashed.

It was different from being alone, and yet, not entirely different.

In the end, what he really wanted was just someone who would be with him. Someone who would hold his hand.

Josh's body collapsed like broken doll parts.

He closed his eyes and tears streaked down both sides of his hot face. The thrill and bliss had hit its peak, washed over, then slowly receded like the tide. He remembered to breathe again, pulled his hands in, and his fingers had clenched so hard they were still bent, aching. Exhaustion crept in around the edges of delectation.

“Yes, Shu,” Josh hoarsely whispered for the first question.

“Yes, Shu,” Josh hoarsely whispered for the second.

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He closed his eyes and sleep overtook him like a thick blanket.







He woke up in the morning covered in his coat.

Josh sat up slowly, pulling his arms and knees to his chest. Then, the announcement started.

I think I had a dream. I had a dream someone was…

A flash of memory struck, making his eyelashes flutter and his arms hug himself.

He felt a slight sting and looked down at his sides, at scratch marks. Gently, he touched the scratches, holding the coat over his front. A few strands of his untidy hair fell forward. He pulled his shoulder close and looked at the bite marks. On his chest was dried blood.

"Mariya White encountered Joshua James and despite putting up a stiff defense, she was eventually shot to death."

It sounded like he was underwater and the words were coming from the surface.

Josh thought that he might be horrified by the blood, by the announcement, by the state of him, but he wasn’t really. He felt alright, though moving revealed a spate of aches and pains.

He got to his feet and began picking up his clothes from around the cell. Lifting his pants off the ground, a few beads were disturbed and rolled away. This was kind of amusing, so he smiled.

Looking down at his body, he noted that he was in desperate need of a bath.

He giggled.

One leg after the other, he redressed. As he pulled the shirt back over his head and rebuttoned his coat, he felt a strange sense of peace. Josh was not reprimanded, he was given approval. Keep going.

He reached down for the cream scarf that had fallen by the bed.

Who did I want to go talk to? I guess it must not have been important.

A hand touched his hand as he retrieved the scarf. Gripping the scarf, he stumbled away from the arm. Josh backed up until his back hit the bars of the cell. It was a severed arm with a stack of thick, gold bangle bracelets. A woman’s hand.

Feeling nauseous, he bundled up the scarf, grabbed his gun from where it leaned against the wall and left the cell. He grabbed the bags and shivered, trying not to look at the arm or think about the arm or that he had grabbed it and found solace in holding this discarded meat. One of his bags felt a little lighter, and he could tell that the shotgun had been removed -- taken by Shu. He had taken a lot, so what was one more thing.

Josh wobbled to the door with his gun, with his bags, and left, slamming it shut.


((We hope you enjoyed the meal ))