Page 42 of Iblis' Affliction
A DOOR SLAMMINGinto its frame shattered the silence. Putting a knife aside, Talha glanced at Ejder. Receiving a slight shrug at his silent question, he skulked out of the kitchen.
Standing in the middle of the hall, Slater shook the blood of his karambit, then wiped it against his pants before sheathing it behind his back. Noticing Talha, he grinned. “Thank you, Master, your gift was delicious.”
Smudges of blood covered his face as if someone had been trying to push him away with bloody hands. Dark spots marred his messy clothes, and a trail of bloody footprints stretched through the hall from the door of his bedroom to where he stood.
“What the fuck have you done?” Talha’s heart sunk. He stormed toward the bedroom and inched the door open. Red splashes of blood decorated the blue Persian carpets, walls, and the golden bedspread. Mutilated and disfigured, the body lay on the floor with his arms spread and guts out. Unable to tolerate the view and the sickening stench of blood and bile, Talha shut the door.
Slater didn’t reply, as all his attention was directed to the aisle that led to the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, Ejder pointed a gun at Slater’s head.
“Huh?” Slater chuckled; his palm curled up, and a black throwing needle slipped between his fingers. “A little boy hiding behind a gun. Come, you will die first.”
Tongue stuck to his pallet, Talha rushed to him and grabbed Slater’s hand the same moment Ejder pulled the trigger. Slater shifted and the bullet, catching the strands of his hair smashed against a marble wall.
Disregarding the black muzzle pointed at his back, Slater spun around and faced Talha. A needle, squeezed in his fist, swished through the air as Slater thrust his hand forward, using it like a knife. In the last moment, Talha reared back. The edge of the needle passed an inch away from his throat.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Slater’s voice lowered to a dangerous whisper as he bared his teeth. “Talha is stupid! Talha is useless! No one has ever insulted Slater like this. The deal is off.”
“Ejder, leave!” Talha ordered. Grabbing Slater’s hand, he yanked it to himself. Installing eye contact, he captured Slater’s attention.
“But Abi…”
“Leave! NOW!” Talha snapped. Wavering, Ejder moved out of his sight, and in a heartbeat, the door clicked closed. At that moment, Talha prayed that Ejder would listen to him and go to his girlfriend. Unable to predict the outcome of the situation, he needed Ejder to be as far away from Slater as possible.
One on one with Slater, Talha felt the gravity of responsibility lifting from his chest. Boring into the large pupils of the ripper, he said, “No, the deal’s not off. I have been patient with you. I have wasted my time on you. I have tolerated your shit all these days trying to understand what the fuck you want! I have the blood of so many people on my name because of you! You want pain? I’m in a generous mood.”
Clenching his fist, he sent the first jab to Slater’s face, but the younger man, slightly inclining his torso back, let the punch cut the air.
“It’s too late for that, Talha.”
“IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT, TALHA,”Slater whispered, but a slight doubt flicked in the depth of his dilated pupils.
Then I have nothing to lose.Taking his chances, Talha threw a backhand, this time hitting the mark. Neck strained, Slater’s head bounced to the side, but his glare remained glued to Talha.
“You raised a hand to my brother.” Clenching his fist, Talha sent a punch at Slater’s mouth. His bottom lip burst open, and blood seeped down his chin. “You murdered in my house.”
In one swift motion, Talha hurled his upper body forward sending a crashing punch into Slater’s right floating rib. Adrenaline shook his fingers as he lost the corners of his vision to darkness. He didn’t care if he harmed Slater anymore.
Slater shuddered, hands drew toward his middle, shoulders hunched forward, but Talha didn’t care. Blind rage, pulsing behind his eyes, filled his ears with the loud drumming of his heart that stutteredkill-kill-kill-kill.He lurched at the younger man with a series of short, fast jabs to his torso. The red fog condensed, filling his vision; he grabbed the ripper’s shoulder and granted him with a knee strike to his stomach. He vaguely registered Slater shuddering and dropping to his knees, hands pressing to the left side of his torso, right above the hip.
Talha bent forward. Fingers wrapping around Slater’s biceps, he yanked him upright. Not waiting for the ripper to find his feet, he stomped toward the staircase. Slater’s legs barely moved as he fought with the steep steps, trying not to lose his balance, but Talha didn’t slow down. The all-consuming flames of anger feasted on his soul. He wasn’t sure who he was mad at. Was it Slater who never listened to him, who brought the severed head of his enemy to his house, who killed in his home, who slept in his bed? Or maybe he was mad at himself for bringing a psychopathic murderer into his house. For being arrogant enough and believing that he could conquer the world and control the devil? Only today, when Slater drew out a throwing needle to send it at Ejder’s eye, did the gravity of his actions crash onto his shoulders.
For everything Slater had done, Talha was responsible. If Slater killed Ejder, it would be his hands covered with the blood of his own brother, not Slater’s. Cornered with his actions, he’d locked himself in a cage of desperation, allowing Slater to gain influence over his life. But he was done being kind. He was done being understanding. He’d given Slater more chances than he should have. It didn’t matter what value Iblis had. No money in the world, no power, was worth losing his brother.
Entering his bedroom, he dragged Slater to the middle of the room and dumped him on the red and white carpet. He didn’t see a human being anymore, but a beast he had no sympathy for. All he had for Slater was rage.
The mocking, questioning gaze, the bloody lopsided smile, the tilt of his head, even his fingers, curled in a defenseless way, everything screamed of farce. Slater didn’t treat him seriously. Allowing himself to be hit, he only proved his strength, but even knowing this, Talha couldn’t stop.
I’m an idiot… He has never been a victim. I should have figured it out sooner. Slater only does what he wants. All those scars, all those burns cover his skin because he wanted them. Not for a single day in his life was he used. But he used others alright. He probably only stayed with Behçet because the man kept the police away from him. For someone like Slater, spending the rest of his life in jail would be hell on earth.
Hit after hit, he crashed his fists down, sending occasional kicks in the same direction. His heartbeat echoed in his throbbing knuckles as the room soaked in red. His fists crusted over with blood; he halted. His vision cleared, bringing his focus to his right shoe; it was covered in a glistening mess of saliva and blood. The same mess covered Slater’s mouth.
He didn’t know where the words came from, but his voice didn’t sound familiar even to his own ears. “You wanted me to fuck you?”
His knees collided with the bouncy surface of the Persian carpet as his eyes linked with Slater’s dilated pupils. The ripper licked his lips, taking a shaky breath. Talha glanced down. Slater’s combat pants bulged, his chest rose and fell in labored breathing, and shimmering droplets of sweat coated his neck.
Talha’s body burned; his head swam. The drumming in his head resounded in his groin. He yanked Slater’s shirt open, revealing a torso covered with red bruises, then he unfastened Slater’s combat pants. Slater didn’t fight him even when he rolled the younger man to his stomach and wrestled his pants down.
If Slater had spoken or fought back, Talha might have sobered up and stopped, but Slater fisted the carpet pile, gazing over his shoulder. His transparent eyes, heavy with lust, burned the last layers of humanity out of Talha’s soul. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out. Spreading Slater’s butt cheeks, he forced himself through the tight ring of his sphincter.
