Page 60 of Seth
Even from a mile away, he spotted the silhouettes of smokestacks and a tall silo towering above the Mayr Flachglas Manufactory. Lightning strike, hitting the ground, illuminated the factory from behind, aggravating the feeling of doom.
No car, no person, crossed his way as he pulled over before the gates. He signaled twice, and the gates flipped open, pushing currents of muddy water out of the puddle before them.
The car rolled into the yard. The night security guard waddled through the downpour, jacket pulled over his head and shielding his eyes with his hand from the water. Seth lowered the window.
“Anyone else in the building?” The rain drowned his quiet voice.
The middle-aged guard nodded. “Watchmen.”
“Make them leave. Turn off the cameras, and go home. You all are free for tonight.” Seth wasn’t sure his voice was strong enough to be heard through the raging weather, but the guard nodded, most likely realizing the content of the request or reading his lips. It wasn’t anything new. Once in a while, Seth demanded everyone left and monopolized the factory. The staff never argued, knowing well enough that there was no reasoning with the eccentric owner.
Seth stepped out of the car into the storm. The water hit his face. The guard disappeared into the security office then reappeared with a wide, black umbrella. He staggered closer, offered the umbrella to Seth.
Seth shook his head, glanced at his watch. Getting the hint, the guard jogged toward the entrance of the factory and bustled through the tall, tin door. Needles of water massaged Seth’s face as he lifted his eyes. It felt like nature spilled his emotions for him—all the rage, grief, and despair that bubbled in his throat without finding the way out.
Only minutes later, when several workers exited the factory and carried on toward the gates, Seth pushed out a strained breath.
The gates closed with a clang, and all sounds disappeared except for the loudSHHHHHHH.
Shirt weighting his shoulders, Seth remained still for another moment then entered the security office to recheck that every camera was switched off. He returned to the car, carefully pulled Justin out. A bitter wind slapped across his face as the first bullets of hail bombarded his head. Hugging Justin closer, Seth darted toward the entrance.
The change of humidity made him hold his breath. Outside, the air was drenched in electricity and freshness; inside, the dryness clung to his skin like melted plastic. The scent of burnt chemicals and fire permeated the air.
He listened for the low hum of the sleeping machines then ghosted through the industrial building toward the floating glass section. Some of the machines stood turned off, but the large furnaces, filled with tons of molten glass, never slept. Requiring a long time to heat up, they were set on the lowest temperature that would keep the glass liquid.
The air became drier as he stalked alongside the glass stretchers and annealing lehr2toward the float bath and furnaces. The dim light flickered as another lightning bolt hit the building. His clothes stuck to his skin and hindered his movements. The white silk around Justin soaked through and became translucent.
He slowed before the tall raw material charger. His knees bumped against the solid concrete as he sagged to the floor, keeping the dead boy on his lap. He peeled the wet fabric off the bluish face, caressed a sharp cheekbone with the back of his index finger. “Even death couldn’t spoil your beauty. You are still perfect.”
He pulled the silk lower and wrapped his fingers around Justin’s hand. His thumb brushed over the bluish petals of the elongated nails. Succumbing to an urge, he lifted the dead hand to his lips and kissed the back. “I would have burned the world for you if only you stayed with me. I wish you had never betrayed me. I wish you were the one.”
Strands of Justin’s hair splayed over the gray floor, dust sticking to them. Seth released the dead hand and reached for the lock to tuck it behind Justin’s ear. The touch felt familiar and intimate. It reminded him of the happy times they had spent together. Driven by nostalgia, he bent and pressed his lips to the tightly squeezed mouth.
The kiss was tasteless and dry, nothing like he remembered. His throat tightened with emotion; he got to his feet and approached the engineering station. Next to the door, he found a clipboard with an order form attached to it. Without reading, he crumpled the top sheet and shoved it back into the holder then grabbed a pen. The numbers popped up in his head as he reassigned the next lot of neodymium glass to SkyBlade.
He returned to the body, scooped it into his arms, and carried it to the metal ladder of the raw material charger. Climbing and carrying a human weight over his shoulder simultaneously proved to be harder than he expected. When he reached the vast platform on top, he clasped the rigid body to himself and rested his back against the railings. A slight tremble settled into his limbs, making him wonder if he was tired, cold, or both.
After many deep breaths, unwilling to part with the shell of the man he once loved, he stepped forward. Behind the thick glass, the flame blazed. The glowing mass of molten glass lazily swirled. It wasn’t white like a noonday sun, but reddish, like an early sunrise. The sunrise that promised a new day, new hope, new life, and a better future. Exactly what he wanted for Justin.
Seth flipped open the shutter covering the hopper, and the air punched him in the face. The roar filled his ears as he lowered the body over the rim and released his grip. The silk fabric caught fire before reaching the glowing surface. Sparks whirled up, dancing in the heated air, before speckling the surface of the red magma with gray ash. The pale skin sizzled, bubbled, and the body sank in the boiling glass.
“So, this is how you dispose of the bodies. Won’t it ruin the glass, just like those flakes in your sculptures?” Gustavo’s low baritone brushed against his earlobe as the faint scent of spice, wood, and heady sweetness mixed with the smell of gas, fire, and burnt flesh.
Seth swiveled. Silence overtook the factory; only the heavy pattering of the rain, hail, and his torn breathing disturbed it.
Seth’s gaze flicked from one corner of the floating-glass wing to another, but he saw no sign of bodyguards. He smirked, shook his head.Some people are eager to die. And here I was giving you so many chances to walk away.
“If you keep looking at me with such passion, I’ll start hoping our feelings are mutual.”
“You keep seeking me. Do you want to die?” Seth said, but he didn’t hear his voice; Gustavo looked at his mouth, probably to lip-read.
“We all die. But what’s the point in living if I don’t get what I want?”
“And what is it that you want that you came alone?” Seth wasn’t sure why he asked. He wasn’t interested in the answer. The man would die tonight anyway. Nothing held Seth back anymore.
“You.” Gustavo looked at him with such a stunned expression as if his answer surprised him too. “I want to know everything about you. Your every little secret.”
“And I say unto you, ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you3. Let me grant your wish, Gustavo,” Seth rustled. Two punch daggers sprung into his hands from the buckle of his belt. They glinted with reflected red light as he swished them through the air, aiming for Gustavo’s throat.
