Page 55 of Seth
Seth’s heart halted. Two layers of glass and one layer of water magnified the skin on Ignaz’s wrist better than any lens.
A silver web of scars crisscrossed the wrist. Horizontal and vertical, tiny and straight lines disfigured the skin. Seth knew only one object capable of leaving such a tale-telling story—a razor.
So many…
The view plunged him into the dark reality, the slam so brutal he groaned.Why am I surprised? I always knew…
He took the glass away from Ignaz’s mouth and slid his fingers up the scarred wrist, skin rippling under his finger pads. Ignaz rested his cheek against the pillow and closed his eyes, withdrawing from reality, but Seth couldn’t stop staring.
Something stirred in his chest giving birth to a distant feeling of kinship.Yes, I’ve always known.
* * *
“Are you going to bed?”Hans’ blond head, peeking through the door, drew Gustavo’s attention to his lover. He had been watching Seth for hours now. The longer he watched, the more he recognized the familiar glint in Seth’s eyes. He had already seen it during the presentation. With eyes full of possessive adoration, he’d ogled the bloody sand weeks ago.
“Did you say something?” Gustavo forced his thoughts away from Seth.
“I asked if you are coming to bed with me?” A bat of thick lashes and a seductive smile that usually ignited Gustavo’s blood did nothing now, as his thoughts trailed back to Seth. Propped on an elbow, Seth hovered over the sleeping boy, once again reminding Gustavo of Narcissus by Ernest Eugene Hiolle. Just like the statue played with its reflection, Seth caressed the boy’s pale palm. He sat like that for hours, not moving a muscle as if turned into a piece of marble.
“No, you go ahead; I’ll join you later. I have things to do.” Hans’ lips disappeared into a slit; he silently shut the door.
A part of Gustavo wanted to go after him, wrap his arms around his perfect body, but his mind refused to let Seth go. Leaning back into the chair, he looked at the empty place on the wall.
Seth’s gaze, full of emotion, resurrected in his memory. Despite leaving bloody trails, the licks of his whip looked like the most tender touches. Even if the cameras filmed the scene from awkward angles and despite the lack of intimate touches, Gustavo sensed the electricity, the almost sexual tension in the air. The act felt more intimate than the most provocative porn he’d ever seen. It bothered and excited him at once, making him question his motives, desires, and sanity. He didn’t know this Seth, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to because, for the first time, the man on the screen almost looked human. Gustavo wasn’t sure he wanted to see Loco like this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to learn his gentle side. He liked the idea of teasing the beast because it was easier to keep his distance and his desires at bay.
Once he saw a human in Seth, he wouldn’t need to resist the pull, he wouldn’t need to draw borders, and that by itself was a very dangerous realization. The realization that made him hate that puppy-dog look in Seth’s eyes directed at someone else.
“I was right all along… it’s not hatred that drives you. It has always been love.”
* * *
The desert washed in red,but Set couldn’t see the sun through the thick cloak of whipped sand. He twisted on his hoof, a dune shifting beneath him, but without the sun, he couldn’t say which way to go. Something touched his leg. He glanced down to find a dermestid beetle1crawling up his leg toward the festering wound on his shin, bone peeking from under the skin. Attracted to the smell of decay, the insect crawled to lay eggs and feast on the flesh of the fallen god.
Disgust flooded his soul. With a flick of his Was-staff, he knocked the beetle off.
“Not so soon. I’m still alive.” He said and speared the insect with the forked end of his staff.
He squared his shoulders and seized his surroundings. The desert, as if tired of the deathly hush, brought down a purifying storm to demolish the weak and sick and clear the road to strong and healthy. And right now, it attempted to hasten his decomposition.
Sand stabbed him in the eye and torn throat. Rebelling against him, the desert raised tall dunes as if building a tomb to bury him alive.
When did the desert became his enemy? Ever since he could remember, it’d always protected and obeyed, inspired and guided him. Now it tried to tear his body to pieces.
He turned his muzzle to the sha animal crowning the Was-staff to see if it changed too when a distant glint caught his attention. Too dim to be the sun, it flickered with a blue light.
There was something imperceptibly familiar in this light that despite the cold hue, it felt warm. Set’s hoofs followed it. Even though the distance between them shrank, the light weakened. Like a tiny firefly, it guttered and died, leaving Set alone in the raging desert.
Vexed, Set raised the staff in the air and ordered, “Calm.”
The airwave emitting from him pushed the sand back but didn’t subdue it.
“I said, calm!” Set’s voice rolled over the desert. The clearing grew larger and revealed a naked figure sitting on the sand. Slender arms folded over the blond head, legs crossed in front of his groin. White scars covered the pale back as the boy stirred and raised his head.
Mesmerized, Set came closer and kneeled in front of the naked man. His hands froze mere inches away from the shaking shoulders. Strings of sand rose from the ground and weaved into a cloak, covering the boy’s nudity.
When the boy raised his eyes at the monster he was, Set rustled, “Do not fear. Nothing bad will ever happen to you. Finally, I found you.”
* * *
