Fraternity

Chapter Nine

My screams of pleasure quieten and I cry against him, moaning as my body settles from the shock of climaxing repeatedly. The last orgasm shakes my body, I feel something pull from my neck, like blades stuck inside me and then a wet feeling left in its place. Slater's head moves up, eyes firmly closed as I peer up at him, my head woozy and body numb. I couldn't think. I couldn't process anything around me. My eyes could only stare at his face, blank and numb. What just happened to me? How did he do that?  

"Fuck." He whispers, a look of regret stinging his face. He pulls himself away from me, my body is damp with sweat and I can't move. I feel fatigued and achy, my mind totally numb and cloudy, like I'd drank far too much. I lie in a pool of sweat as Slater moves from my body and takes a stand. I can hear as he walk to the bathroom, my eyes still planted on the ceiling which swirls and dancing as my vision blurs. The rooms an eerie silence as he leaves, my neck pulses with a burning sensation that traveling through my body. My eyes droop, struggling to stay open, the world around me dizzy and unfocused.

I hear footsteps approach me and feel the presence of Slater's body over me once again. My eyes are closed, I can't keep them open, but I can feel his body press into me and his warm breath over my face. My bodies too sore to move and my mind too sluggish to comprehend. "Move your head to the side." He mutters, voice deep and husky. When I didn't respond, he pushes my temple, exposing my neck to him once more. Suddenly I feel his warm tongue across the crevice, a blissful pleasure graces me, a tingling right through to my shaft.

"Oh god," I slur as a tingling overwhelms, igniting my body all over again. "Oh god, don't stop. It feels so good," I whimper, tears rolling down my cheeks at the sensation. Why did it feel this good? What had he done to me?

"Hmm, I need to clean the wound." He mumbles against my skin, his hot breath soothes me as he returns his tongue to my skin. His erection digs into my thigh as he listens to me moan and shake beneath him. I can feel how aroused he is, how his hard length rubs against me, desperate for my attention. But my mind is foggy with pleasure, unable to understand what was happening around me, all I knew is it felt incredible. The tingle fades out as his head moving away from me. He hovers over me but my eyes remain closed and my body starts to slump, my mind closing off and swirling as if I'm flat out from drinking. The last thing I hear is the descending steps towards the doors as the darkness takes over.

~

As I come too, my body is sore, like I'd been hit by a bus. My bones ache and my head pounds. I couldn't understand what had happened. My mind still didn't feel all there, this wooziness clouding my thoughts. I've never felt pain or pleasure like it before. My mind keeps saying the same things, what happened? How did it happen? Why did it happen? Had I dreamt it? Was any of that even real?

I reach my hand to my neck, a sharp sting rings through me and I wince pulling away. Sitting up, the room is cold and lifeless, the sheets ruffled around me. My body groans at me as I stand up, the cold floor from the tile below stinging my feet. My clothes have been changed, by who I don't know. I'm in some joggers and a T-shirt, the dress shirt and pants I'd slept nowhere to be seen. Had he changed me? I step into the bathroom, my reflection stares back at me, the two gaping wounds sit on my neck with the initials S and D written beneath, entangled together in intricate harmony.

What the fuck? I've never had a tattoo. I'd remember getting a tattoo. Have I been drugged? Why do I have initials on my neck? What the fuck is going on? Panic sets in as I rub the mark but it doesn't wash away. It's permanent. I need to know what the fuck this is. I need to know why it's on my skin. I rush to the hall and down the winding stairs, the chatter of voices coming from the kitchen. The once morning light settling on the horizon, a warm red and orange sky brightens the remaining day, soon to disappear and leave the darkness behind.

There's a hum in the kitchen but I can't hear what's being said. My mind swirls and this creeping tightness sits in my chest. My body is so fatigued that I'm struggling to breathe. I need air. I move towards the door, the slight chill in the air is welcomed to wake my groggy mind and the fresh air soothes my lungs. The cold steps chill my feet as I step forward an all-familiar van pulls up in front of me. My reactions are too slow, my mind is still dazed from the events earlier that day. Men pile from the van, dragging me towards the sliding doors and throwing me in. My body hits with a thud, the sore ache still present, causing me to groan in displeasure.

The van starts to move away, the anxiety growing within me as we do. As time passes, Slater clouds my thoughts. His strong features and chiselled body. Why would he call me his? What the hell is this marking on my neck about? Why did I climax like that?

Suddenly the doors to the van clang open, my body pulled from its abyss as I'm guided through to a building, unfamiliar yet similar to the last. The floorboards are water damaged, crumbling away. The wall is covered in mould, caked with black damp. As we walk the corridors, our footsteps squelch against the floor. We enter a room and I'm roughly shoved to the floor. My body is in agony as I groan out my dissatisfaction. I glance up, the man from before stands before me, his wrinkled face from age, his lips tight, and his fine black hair now grey.

"The flash drive." He glares at me expectantly. His hand outstretched, patiently waiting for me to place it in his hand. The flash drive. I forgot all about it.

"I don't have it," I groan out, my body still screaming as I peer up at his body towering mine. A swift kick is delivered to my stomach, once and then twice. I cough and splutter, blood gathering at my lips.

"Do you think you're a Martyr? That the peers around you will remember you? You value them so highly and yet they have little respect for you, Mr. Blake? They command your obedience and for what?" He bites out, his accent silencing the air as the tension remains thick.

"I won't allow you access to information that could hurt people. It's got fuck all to do with respect." I spit back, another kick meeting my stomach once more.

"Well Mr. Blake, what a terrible mistake you have made. What a shame, you could have been so valuable to us." He shakes his head, as though it was a grave pity. A guard passes him a gun and he cocks the barrel towards my face.

My heart is pounding, my breath catches in my throat as my eyes screw shut, my body frozen stiff. My life is going to end. I didn't think this would be the way I'd go out. I imagined dying of old age in my sleep, the ideal way as everyone does. Yet here I was, in a cold and moulding room second away from seeing the bright light of death. As the click of the safety sounds the room, my fists clench up. The overwhelming fear makes my body tremble and I contemplate begging for my life. Begging for him not to kill me, but I've only ever lived a life of suffering, perhaps the afterlife will be my relief? First goes the click, and then the shot echo's the room.