By Ashton

You�re such an inspiration for ways that I will never ever choose to be
Oh so many ways for me to show you how your savior has abandoned you
Fuck your god he did this, took all you had and left you this way
Still you pray, never stray, never taste of the fruit
Never thought to question why
It�s not like you killed someone, it�s not like you drove a hateful spear into his side
Praise the one who left you broken down and paralyzed
He did it all for you...
Oh so many ways for me to show you how your dogma has abandoned you
Pray to your Christ, to your god, never taste of the fruit, never stray, never break, never choke on a lie, even though he�s the one who did this to you, thought to question why
It�s not like you killed someone, it�s not like your drove a spiteful spear into his side
Talk to Jesus Christ as if he knows the reasons why
He did this all to you...he did it all for you...

~ �Judith� by A Perfect Circle

*****

The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the dim church, vacant but for one solitary visitor. From the pew in which he was seated, Jeremiah watched the hypnotic dance of flames with vague fascination as they cast shadows across the cold gray walls. How ironic that he should be permitted entry into this sacred place of worship? The very fact that he had waltzed through the elaborate front doors, on this frigid winter evening, was proof that not enough faith existed between the congregation and pastor combined to hold him at bay.

Jeremiah felt his full lips curl into a mocking, self-satisfied grin. God, if he truly existed, didn�t merit the trust of those who claimed to serve him. It was appropriate that their faith die, when they�d been left alone to suffer so miserably in the world.

"I shall not kneel before you, not now...not ever...and you allowed it to be so," Jeremiah muttered beneath his breath as he stood, glaring at the alter with bitter hatred racing through his veins in place of warm blood. He tossed his blond tresses over his shoulder indignantly and stuffed his bony white hands into his coat pockets. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the stone walls and pillars as he strolled towards the rack of candles with defiance. In his mind, Jeremiah cursed god for the loss of his soul, for the immortality that had been bestowed upon him. It was a gift he no longer desired. His embittered smile mutated into a prominent scowl as he silently acknowledged his malign existence...an existence void of any purpose or pleasure aside from incessant feeding and sordid copulation. Jeremiah�s eternal hunt for blood and cum had left him jaded. Long centuries spent alone, rutting with strangers and drinking of their blood had diminished the exaltation he�d once experienced at partaking in such endeavors. In the end, he recognized with clarity that his existence was meaningless.

The candles blazed before him now, bathing his unnaturally pale and angular face with an orange radiance. He drew in a deep breath and relinquished it with effectiveness, extinguishing every last candle. The heady scent of perfumed smoke filled the air as he turned on the heel of his boot and sauntered in the direction of the doors, a burning hunger striking the pit of his stomach.

*****

It was this yearning for nourishment that drove Jeremiah to the mobbed nightclub, an establishment where prey was bountiful and could be overtaken with relative ease. He stole into the crowded room unnoticed the deafening rhythm of music pounding from the speakers as he shoved his way through the sweaty crowd. His keen eyes scoured the multitude of bodies before him through dense cigarette smoke, searching for his next unfortunate victim.

While his pale eyes darted about the room, he felt the brush of a body against his shoulder. The slight touch sent a jolt of electricity through his arm, and he immediately swiveled his head to inspect the origin of such a curious awakening. Standing nearby, was a waif of a man wearing the most quizzical expression upon his face. Their eyes remained transfixed with unspoken significance for what seemed an endless expanse of time. Finding himself enthralled, Jeremiah studied the young man�s dazzling blue-gray eyes, his flawless porcelain skin, and the soft curves of his face. His features were as finely sculpted as those of a doll...and just as intricately painted. A mane of glossy hair, the shade of the blackest night framed his face, the dark locks a startling contrast to his ivory skin.

Slowly, Jeremiah let his eyes drift downward over the young man�s wiry form, brazenly appreciating all that he beheld. The man�s silk shirt had been left unbuttoned, revealing a lean torso and the creamiest white flesh that Jeremiah had ever seen. Snug velvet pants clung to every enticing curve of the young man�s lithe body, accentuating the prominent swell between his slender legs, a region Jeremiah found particularly alluring.

He narrowed his glacial blue eyes and concentrated, attempting to gain access to the young man�s innermost thoughts, the name "Patrick" reached Jeremiah�s tender ears. The young man�s name was Patrick. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Never before had a mortal caused him such an intense, physical reaction. Gentle tingling sensations still cascaded pleasantly down the length of his arm where the young man had touched him. A slight smile teased the corners of Patrick�s shimmering lips, almost as if he knew perfectly well what he�d done. Then, as suddenly as he appeared, Patrick turned to leave, swaggering as he pushed his way through the swarming throng...leaving Jeremiah with a peculiar tightness in his chest and a familiar twinge in the crotch of his pants.

Jeremiah reclined against the wall with a heavy sigh, watching the dance floor as a voracious craving gnawed at his insides. He needed to feed soon. Already, he could feel the painful knot in his stomach and the mounting weakness that threatened to overwhelm him. He hugged his long leather coat closer around him and waited.

The sound of applauding and clamoring drew his attention. Through the brilliant, multicolored lights, Jeremiah glanced across the room in time to see the very man who�d grazed him leap on a tabletop. Patrick began to move suggestively, thrusting his slim hips lewdly in time with the blaring music as he slid his small hands over his sweat-glistening chest. The glittering blue-gray eyes that had stared playfully into his, where now half closed, the young man�s long dark lashes emphasized by a heavy coat of ebony mascara. Fascinated, Jeremiah moved in for a closer look.

By this time, several men had gathered around the scuffed table and were groping at the wispy creature, which seemed quite oblivious to the commotion he was causing. Patrick appeared lost in a remote and solitary realm of his own invention, clearly he was beyond the grasp of lucidity as he thrashed about.

Much to Patrick�s protest, a broad man with dark brown hair, grabbed him around his knees and hauled him off the table. Patrick squirmed and punched ineffectually at the bulkier figure, until the larger man�s features twisted with anger. With obvious intent, the man released Patrick from his clutches, allowing him to collapse on the shoddy, linoleum floor in a broken heap. The young man yelped, but rose to his feet once more, glaring boldly at his attacker.

Jeremiah startled when an unexpected blow struck the young man across his cheekbone. Jostled by the assault, Patrick stumbled backwards against a pair of rickety chairs, the radiant eyes that had flashed so briefly before Jeremiah, seemed to dim until they were bleak and lifeless. Lost to his temper, the man snatched a handful of Patrick�s long black hair and hauled him toward the door, howling like a wounded animal.

A flood of resentment mingled with Jeremiah�s vehement appetite, and he found himself unexpectedly rejuvenated as he shouldered his way through the unruly horde. There was no longer any question as to whom his next victim would be.

*****

Outside, a fine dust of snow drifted to the ground, blanketing the pavement in pure white. Through the airy flakes, Jeremiah narrowed his crystalline eyes and surveyed the street before him to no avail. He frowned, though he refused to be thwarted. Stilling his agile form, he strained his ears. Like most nocturnal creatures, his sense of hearing was inordinately keen.

At once, he detected muffled cries emanating from a nearby alley. With heavy, brisk strides Jeremiah followed in the direction of the frail whimpering, saliva wetting his generous lips by the time he stood at the mouth of passageway.

Enveloped in the dusky shadows, Jeremiah went unnoticed. He peered with unfamiliar compassion at the young man. Patrick lay quivering on his side among the filth and grime, his knees drawn up toward his slight chest in a fetal position as he wept shamelessly on the sludgy ground.

�You�re worthless and you know that?� The drunken oaf of a man barked as he administered a swift kick to the young man�s abdomen, "you�re a no-good whore...a little cock teasing bastard."

Jeremiah�s body tensed involuntarily, his rage culminating as he watched Patrick�s body being bludgeoned.

"You think you can carry on like some cheap slut right in FRONT of me?" The bestial man demanded. He crouched down; a satisfied smirk on his face as he spat at the figure huddled on the wet concrete.

Fraught with hunger and emotions too foreign for him to decipher, Jeremiah pounced with abnormal velocity, ripping the weightier man to his feet with inhuman strength.

"What the fuck?" The man bellowed and thrashed about as he was lifted off the foundation and thrown forcefully against the coarse brick facing the alley. He grumbled and fell to the mucky ground, his head striking the wall with a dull thud as he descended.

Jeremiah shifted his eyes to Patrick�s inquisitively as the battered young man winced with pain and struggled to pull himself into an upright position. Patrick�s eyes locked with his, a spark of recognition flickering in the blue-gray orbs as his thin fingers sought the bruise on his cheekbone. Jeremiah stared at Patrick�s forlorn, tear-streaked face as the young man ran light fingers over the contusion.

Without further hesitation, Jeremiah knelt beside the dazed man and dug his long fingers into the cropped hair, his free arm wrapping around the husky torso. He jerked the man�s head far back, savoring the final eruption of sound that escaped from his throat - a low resigned groan that failed to sensitize Jeremiah. He opened his mouth wide, his full lips stretching back tight against his teeth. Baring his knifelike incisors, he bent forward, penetrating the tender skin of the man�s neck. Jeremiah moaned with rapture as he drank, glancing up at Patrick, his eyes radiant and lusty.

He could have taken his prey gently, held and caressed him to ecstasy as his life was drained, but it was a luxury Jeremiah didn�t want to sanction this man. No, not this one. The taste of his blood was bitter, and gave testimony to his vile nature. Instead of easing him into nothingness, Jeremiah masticated the skin of his neck as he drank, gnawing at the pulsing jugular within, allowing his throat to fill with a wealth of syrupy fluid. There was nothing he wanted more, than to ensure this man an agonizing death.

Images flashed before Jeremiah�s eyes, memories stolen from the mind of his diminishing prey as his blood was tapped. It was Jeremiah�s least favorite part of the kill, learning the thoughts of his victims, absorbing their knowledge. At once he knew his victim�s name, Stephen, and was filled with intimate visions of his past, his relationship with Patrick, his secret thoughts and most wretched deeds. But primarily, Jeremiah focused on Patrick, and the abuse this man had administered to him over recent months. He saw it, felt it, knew it....and he experienced no remorse for ending Stephan�s life.

The man�s perishing form convulsed violently against Jeremiah, his arms and legs twitching spastically before his heart finally seized. Jeremiah let the limp corpse fall to the ground with a grotesque thump and stood over it, regarding the broken cadaver without emotion.

"H-he�s...dead?" Patrick�s voice cracked as he stood and backed away from Jeremiah.

"Yes, he is...quite dead I assure you," Jeremiah confirmed earnestly. Realizing he�d made a mess of himself, he swiped at his blood drenched mouth and chin with the back of his hand, "come here Patrick, let me have a look at you."

"I can't. I n-need to go," his eyes widened with fright before he turned and ran off, leaving footprints in the virgin snow and Jeremiah to contend with the useless corpse.

Jeremiah found himself disappointed by Patrick�s abrupt departure, but knew he would find him. The young man�s essence was embedded in his memory now; the heady fragrance of his cologne intermingled with the unique scent of his skin...his sweat. They were preserved for all time. He could almost hear the young man�s thoughts like the faint flutter of wings against his ears. Yes. He would find Patrick.

*****

Locating the young man had been even easier than Jeremiah first expected. Patrick hadn�t traveled far at all, but had sought shelter in a nearby cemetery. Although he was partially concealed by dense shadows and overgrown weeds, Jeremiah could see the young man clearly, nestled on the decomposing steps of an old crypt. He couldn�t help but find it wry, that Patrick would seek refuge here, of all places, after witnessing the ghastly scene that had entertained him only a short while before.

Careful not to startle the young man, Jeremiah stood at a distance and observed Patrick for a long moment. Much as he wanted to deny it, he was thoroughly enchanted with the young man...more taken with him than he�d been with any other human since he had become immortal. Acknowledging what he most desired, Jeremiah could wait no longer to make his presence known.

As he closed the span between them with skillful silence, he watched Patrick lift a trembling hand upward to press a lit cigarette between his lips, the young man�s shapely brows drew together as he lost himself in contemplation.

Jeremiah stepped through the snow-covered tangle of weeds, openly approaching the mausoleum where Patrick cowered against the cold stone. The young man tilted his wan face toward Jeremiah, his sorrowful expression like a dagger slicing through Jeremiah�s heart.

"I want you to kill me," he whispered, his throat tight and scratchy. He took another drag of his cigarette, his breath catching as he exhaled the cloud of smoke. Jeremiah looked the young man over, feeling genuine sympathy and compassion. Yes, he knew what it meant to be alone...known how it felt to long for death.

"You wish to die?" He paused; his azure eyes searching Patrick�s face, noticing a slight shiver claim the young man�s gaunt frame.

The flimsy shirt he had been wearing was still open down the front, only now one of his long sleeves was torn at the shoulder as well. Patrick though in a state of disarray, still managed to appear beautifully decadent. Even with his cheekbone bruised a dark purplish-blue color and his lower lip split down the center; he seemed more a dark seraph than some unrefined mortal. Jeremiah stared at the slash on Patrick�s lip, and watched with yearning as a sparse dribble of blood ran from the slight cleave, flowing down over his pale chin.

After contemplating the young man�s question for a time, he answered, "if that is what you truly want....to die...I can accomplish it...come inside...talk with me."

He nodded toward the crypt entrance and approached, throwing the heavy slate doors open with little effort. Inside the sepulcher, the profuse scent of decay clung to the air, though neither man recoiled at the flagrant odor.

"I�ve seen you before," Patrick remarked quietly.

"And where have you seen me, boy?" A crooked grin teased Jeremiah�s lips; he found it intriguing that Patrick had noticed him somewhere in the past.

"At St. Michael�s Church. You spend long nights sitting in the very first pew. You sneer at the alter...yet each night you return," the boy crushed his cigarette out on the filth-ridden floor, and held Jeremiah�s eyes captive with his own, �now I know why.�

"Yes...yes I do...but what do you do there at such late hours?" He inquired, his brows creasing.

"Pray."

"And does god answer these prayers of yours...has he ever pacified you even once?" Jeremiah demanded his hostility apparent in the inflection of his voice. He reached for the young man�s shirt and yanked it off, baring his torso. With a severe grasp, he clutched Patrick�s naked arm, and peered down at the lean but muscled appendage. The arm they both gazed upon were liberally covered with razor scars - some a very faint white, scars pale with age. Others were various shades of pink; the newest still crusted over with fresh scabs. With that touch, the melding of skin against skin, Jeremiah could feel Patrick�s sorrow. A sob welled up in his throat and anger pelted his head, causing it to palpitate with a sudden, dull pain. No one person should be forced to live through such abuse, or carry such anguish in their heart.

"Where was your god when you wept with despair...and mangled your own flesh? Where was he when pain was the only comfort you could rely on?" Jeremiah dropped Patrick�s arm, mindful that his temper was getting the better of him. He didn�t want to cause the young man additional pain, his dispute with god was his own. Covering his thin face with his hands he wept, letting tears sting his eyes for the first time in decades.

"But he sent me you;" Patrick folded his arms around his sinewy trunk, and rubbed at his skin for warmth.

The sound of Jeremiah�s sardonic laughter filled the tomb, "Patrick, don�t be so very na�ve. It surely was not �god� that bought me to you tonight. I�m no angel of death...but perhaps more of an....aberration." He brushed the dampness from his shadowed eyes and shook his head with disdain.

Patrick peered up at him earnestly as he reached out to stroke side of Jeremiah�s hollowed face. �You�re beautiful. I don�t care who or what you are...just take me from this place...this life."

With the tender caress of Patrick�s hand, the sincerity of his tone, Jeremiah felt the last of his resolve diminish. He placed his hands on Patrick�s bony shoulders and drew him against his chest. Without speaking, he lowered his head and crushed his lips against Patrick�s, tasting the light flavor of lip-gloss and blood as he slipped his tongue into the young man�s mouth. Frantic with need, Patrick returned the kiss, sucking at Jeremiah�s tongue, coaxing and teasing it as he explored the depths of his heated cavern. He pressed closer against Jeremiah, mashing his cock against the other man�s hard swell and grinding with urgency until the steady friction left them clinging together, breathless.

With each stroke of Patrick�s fervent tongue, every thrust of his pelvis, Jeremiah�s carnal desire was heightened until he was beyond self-composure. His breathing ragged, he reached between their grating bodies, his nimble fingers working diligently to unfasten the clasps at the front of Patrick�s pants. Still accosting the young man�s supple mouth, Jeremiah unleashed the hard cock from its entrapment and tore the clothing down over Patrick's slender thighs, watching as his swollen length sprang free. A raspy groan caught in Jeremiah�s throat at the sight.

He dropped to his knees before Patrick and cupped the weight of the young man�s balls in his palm, feeling their moist heat as he rolled them between his fingers. He brushed his ample lips against the base of Patrick�s cock, parting them slightly to drag his tongue along the underside of the erect shaft. Staring at Patrick from where he knelt, Jeremiah dipped the very tip of his tongue inside the small slit at the head of his cock, tasting the salty strings of drool that were just beginning to trickle forth.

Wrapping his fingers around the saliva-dampened length, Jeremiah brought the leaking head to his lips, rubbing the pre-cum over his full pout until it was coated heavily with the seepage. The young man�s closed his eyes, his chest heaving with labored breaths as he reached to tangle his fingers in the long strands of Jeremiah�s golden hair.

Pulling back, Jeremiah licked at the warm fluid glazing his mouth, "Patrick...tell me you like this."

"Yes...please...please don�t stop," the young man moaned, tugging at Jeremiah�s hair, urging him to resume his ministrations.

"Mmm...you taste so good, but I need more," he flicked his tongue out teasingly around the rim of spongy cock head, listening to Patrick�s hushed moans.

Jeremiah�s cock strained uncomfortably against his leather pants as he reached up and clasped the young man by his frail wrists. He pulled Patrick to the soiled floor of the vault, ripping off the young man�s black boots and extricating the trousers from around his ankles with haste, "I want to smell you...eat you...experience everything."

Patrick drew in a sharp breath and nodded, crawling to his hands and knees anxiously, inching back towards Jeremiah, offering his ass up to the man as a delectable gift. Jeremiah ran his hands along the bare flesh, savoring the silken smoothness of Patrick�s skin. He grasped the young man�s ass cheeks and spread them wide, burying his face between the pale folds of flesh and inhaling Patrick�s musky male scent.

Jeremiah groaned, losing himself in the fragrance of the young man�s body as he lapped hungrily at the tight, wrinkled pucker before him. He prodded his tongue against the clenched hole, slipping it between the ring of constricted muscles until it was moving inside Patrick, licking his membranes and tasting his bitter sweat. Jeremiah tugged at the zipper of his pants, continuing to suck the wet pink orifice, as he released his cock from the restrictive material. Patrick mewled and wriggled farther back against Jeremiah�s face, "oh...yeah...lick me...deeper....y-yes...fuck yes...."

Jeremiah stroked the delicate tissues with his tongue again, then withdrew, his mouth red and puffy from feasting on the young man so rigorously. His face was flushed and his blond mane tousled, long strands of hair fell around him, shrouding his high cheekbones.

"Lay on your back," Jeremiah commanded. Without hesitation Patrick rolled on to his back, drawing his knees up as he spread his slender legs. Jeremiah inched closer as Patrick watched the young man's eyes remained fixed on the thick cock that bobbed between his limbs.

Jeremiah crawled between the young man's thighs, grasping his cock and aiming the blunt head against Patrick's hole, wetting the tightly closed ring with his pre-cum.

He thrust his hips forward with a slight grunt, forcing the tight pucker to open and accept his girth, pushing against the hot little mouth until his cock was buried well within the young man's gut.

"Y-yes...yes," Patrick gasped, "feels so good...never felt...so good" Jeremiah raised himself up on his arms and slammed into the vice-like tunnel fast and hard, gasping at the feel of the hot muscles squeezing around his shaft. He arched his back, feeling Patrick's legs twist and wrap around his slight waist, filling with lust as he watched the lost soul writhing beneath him.

"Harder...harder...make me feel it," Patrick whimpered, tightening his muscles around the cock that impaled him as his fingers gripped Jeremiah's shoulders, "god.... you�re going to make me cum... so hard."

"Yeah...that's it...that's it....cum for me...I want to hear you," Jeremiah allowed his feral instincts take over and stabbed into the young man's clenching hole - fucking him with brute force, giving Patrick both the pain and pleasure he'd asked to receive with each ruthless jab.

Jeremiah groaned huskily, feeling his balls lift and tighten as his cock began to pulse inside Patrick�s ass. He speared into the young man's body one last time, driving his dick far inside as hot ropes of cum spurt deep into Patrick's bowels, overflowing the hole with thick milky seed until it leaked out around his swollen orifice.

"Fuck...oh...fuck...yes," The young man cried, feeling the warmth of Jeremiah's fluid bathing his insides.

At the same time, Jeremiah felt the hot gush of Patrick's cum against his taunt abdomen, the wetness smearing against their bodies as they clung together. For a moment, Jeremiah buried his face in the crook of Patrick's shoulder, allowing himself a fleeting sense of contentment. He knew what was expected of him, but didn't want to let go. He whispered against the young man's sweat damp skin, "Patrick...stay with me...never be alone again. Stay."

Afraid of hearing the response, Jeremiah didn't wait. In that very moment after climax, where time and space still ceased to exist, he bent forward and pressed his cool lips to Patrick�s neck, kissing him tenderly. Jeremiah hesitated for a moment, overcome by sentiment, then punctured the silken skin with his teeth, tears welling up in his eyes at the feel of Patrick�s hot sticky blood running down his throat.

Beneath him, Patrick�s body tensed involuntarily before submitting. The young man folded his arms around Jeremiah in a weak embrace as the man carefully consumed his blood. Filled with affection for Patrick, he reached to smooth back the young man's black hair with his hand.

As Patrick�s life faded, Jeremiah unhinged himself from his neck....the young man stared up at him through blank, watery eyes. Hastily, Jeremiah gnawed at his own wrist, digging in deep with his teeth to open a sizable wound.

"Choose Patrick, die...or stay with me..." Jeremiah held his mangled wrist over the young man�s parted lips, and reached beneath his neck to raise his head.

"I...I d-don't even...know your name," the young man responded weakly, his expression distant as his spirit diminished before Jeremiah's eyes.

"Don't speak...take my blood...drink it," Jeremiah persisted, his offer now more of a demand as he urged the young man to accept his saturated wrist.

A faint smiled played on Patrick's finely shaped lips before he parted them wider in supplication. Sighing heavily with relief, Jeremiah pressed his crimson wrist over Patrick's mouth, allowing him to consume the tainted blood greedily, like a starving man. With each gulp of molten liquid that Patrick drew from his body, Jeremiah felt the hollow pit inside him; the hate and darkness that had ruled him for so very long fill with something else...hope.