Prologue
The poor boy hadn't known what kind of situation he was getting into as he ducked through the small space into the luxurious car. Why, he'd barely known what had posessed him to accept the offer in the first place. Perhaps it was the strong wind that stirred pieces of litter on the sidewalk and made the beautiful women on the corners cringe and huddle into their short fur-collared jackets. But now that Jack began to notice his surroundings, the varnished wood surfaces and finely nurtured leather seats, a small doubt wormed it's way up his spine and into his eyes. Then, there lounged across seats perpendicular to the one upon which he perched, was something that made the arctic breeze appear comfortable.
A man of his mid-twenties was sufficiently sprawled over the polished black leather. With his sharp, aristocratic chin pointed to the window he continued to stare out of as he had when Jack had recieved his invitation. His eyes flicked over to his company with a casual and bored front, but there was something lurking dangerously unknown in the dark iris', their color concealed by the reflecting neon hues of the city. A brief moment passed while the man devoured Jack with his gaze, jumping from decision to decision on the fate of his apparent prey. Then, as if it had never happened, he tossed an errant piece of mohogany hair back and returned his attention to the passing world.
It was now, with an impersonal tone that matched his pinstripe navy business suit, that Jack's host spoke. When those perfect pale lips peeled back the insanity of the satisfied smirk beneath was enough to make his guest cringe. "It's very cold out, a bad night for a walk in such flimsy clothing."
An awkward silence floated heavily on the random streams of canary light filtering in, while Jack assessed this information, choosing his answer with delicate balancing. Though his clothes weren't exactly warm, they served to keep the biting chill off of his skin, and all he'd really thought about was that he needed to get out of the house, away from his family; but this was not where he'd intended to find himself at the end of the night. "Thank you for the ride, I had meant to be home by the time the sun went down, and I'm afraid the temperature rather caught me off gaurd."
The man nodded absently and his smile grew with the passing seconds, becoming more and more vicious. Sharp canines and straight incisors, the points of his molars were threatening though shrouded by the gentle rumbling chuckle that slid out over them. Jack was taken aback by the intense hazard these teeth presented. They were overwhelmingly bright in the dim luminesence swimming with the movement of the vehicle. When they moved, disappearing behind their concealing lips as he spoke, their reappearance was so much more frightening. "You needn't thank me, I intend to be repayed for my small favors."
Jack crushed his shoulders back into the padded seat, trying to withdrawl from the car, from the focus which was suddenly glinting at him with feral threat. The man's overall beauty was drowned away by this sinister feature which stood out over all. When his victim did not respond, the man turned his body to face him and attempted to provoke something out of him by raising a thin eyebrow in question. His lips receeded farther up and Jack burst into quiet tears, covering his face with his hands, which shook now more severely than his chest heaved. He could not be saved now, not by anything.
Silently crawling along the adjacent seats, the man came up next to Jack and took one of the hands away from where it served as a cradle, holding it between his own. Now his companion was forced to look into the gaping maw, attracted and frozen with fear like a wittness to a train wreck. The man lifted Jack's hand to the offending orafice and paused, whispering against it. "Don't be afraid." Those horrendous jaws closed and set, hidden only for the moment.
Jack took this opportunity to faint from terror. Even as his eyes were falling shut, the image burned in its negative of that bite to his retenia and was displayed for him under the lids of his eyes into his nightmares.
Part 1
It was, to say the least, a confusing situation to be in. Throngs of well-dressed people murmured suspiciously behind their gloves. Each movement of their lips a sharp stab from an unknown direction, swirling and all-consuming in the din of masterful beauty. Women's hair was stacked high in radiant beau fonts, often too tall to see over. The walls and the floors flowed smoothly together, with a rich, red velvet coating that dripped from a midnight sky of fabric that suspended from the arched ceilings. Each well-fluffed seat looked only like a raised portion of floor, lined and held in its shape by strong brass frames. The entire room, or hall rather, would appear as if one could mix and change each piece like a Rubik cube and still have the circuitous ebb and flow of the velvet sides unbroken.
It was here, in the very center of the pulsing mass whose curls sprung when they giggled, and diamond cufflinks caught the light with each gesticulation, that Jack found himself being held up by the arm and dragged through. Walking was very difficult and each time his foot lost the ground, his entire body was lifted by the same arm. When his blurred vision cleared enough from the watercolor world of red lips, pale faces, and golden hair, Jack's shoes were the first thing that became distinguishable. Mostly because he was staring at them. They were polished black and new with the laces so curtly tied he had to blink twice to make sure these were his feet.
Cautiously raising his head to observe more of the chaos dancing between him and his exit, Jack caught a reflective glance in a mirrored column of himself. The formal charcoal gray suit fit him well, as if tailored to his body while he had slept. It also complemented his dark eyes with their crimson center, his pallorless cream skin, and barely touched lavender white hair. The undershirt and tie were soft ebony. His nails, painted the night before when he had been bored, added to the elegance that tied the outfit together, ivory and sharp, laced into the arm of the man who held him up. Lastly, his hair, which he had let grow to an unruly length, was held at the base of his neck with leather thong and still reached the backs of his calves. All this was forced on him in an instant, for then he was being lead to a more secluded hallway.
A skinny and shallow door cracked to allow Jack and his accompaniment into a square room. The upper portion of one wall was missing and seats faced this opening. A brass bar bordered the abrupt edges as if inviting one to lean over. The view from it was of a a stage and tuning orchestra, awkward wooden seats giving this seemingly private audience comfort. With mild relief for his arm, Jack was released into one of these and finally given a chance to look at his captor.
"Feeling better?" The mysterious man with the cruel smile set himself elegantly into another chair, and placed a tentative, yet uncaring hand on Jack's shoulder. The grin was no longer so harsh in the clearer light.
The urge to withdraw was lessen with the touch, the sensation almost relaxing. Settling into the disjointed chair, he stared ahead at the mirroring box seat in the opera hall. "Why am I here?" A sigh swept across his lips from his slight form.
"I needed a date to keep the leeches off of me and you accepted my invitation." The auburn-crowned man leaned back and closed his eyes as the concert began. His voice lowered to a sweeter tune. "I'm Cid, just in case we get mobbed it could get awkward."
"Ah," Jack also rested his sight to the darkness and slumped a little in the chair. "It's not odd to these 'leeches' that your date is a man?"
Small chuckles sprouted after a moment of silence. "Heavens, no. I haven't catered to a woman since my late wife. She wouldn't have approved of anything else."
He cracked open an eye to look at Cid. The man couldn't be a day over twenty-five. A widower already? It would be a tender subject, but Jack's curiosity urged him on. "Do you mind if I asked how it happened?"
"Quite all right. Internal hemorrhaging, heart failure, and a collapsed left lung. She mostly died of shock. It was a terrible experience."
Sitting suddenly bolt upright, Jack leaned closer with a wide disbelieving stare. "You saw it?!"
Cid nodded slowly, watching the scene replay on the back of his eyelids. The suspicious taxi driver that drove into the black side street, the swift gun and locked doors, her screams that muffled around the duct tape, and his pathetically brave efforts to save her. The knife had been so sharp and penetrating as he'd tried to shield her with his body. The bullet scar still marked his right thigh, but it hadn't been enough. Anne had been trying to pass out from the bleeding, but somehow she had felt it necessary to bear witness to the equal sacrifice Cid was now enduring. At last the uneasy convulsions of pain and the slick of crimson sanguine caused the two month-old gold wedding band to slip off. It's final ringing chimes on the dirty metal floor were her final breaths.
Hours later he had stumbled away with her body, crying into her sunflower blonde hair and telling the cadaver it would 'be alright'. Cid arrived in the emergency room with his deceased accompaniment sometime around dawn, and did not release his wife's hand until they had to tag her for the morgue.
Jack had thought the other man was asleep until he noticed the silent tears tracking down to the crescent sentimental grin. Cid's bite was no longer frightening, in this melancholy stagnation they were quite inviting. He leaned over and gently pressed his lips around them, wetting his cheeks with the closing of the kiss.
END