IV

Rupture

 

         

“Don’t know what I’ve been told,

Just a man of broken sod.

I live of life of dreams and weaves,

Just to take

Just to feed.

 

Don’t know what I’m born from.

An empty womb and then some.

The psycho-babble of our age,

Perpetually slipping past my tongue.

 

Oh say can you see,

This violent era we call home?

Oh, say CAN you see,

This place we all come from.

 

I fall past the center,

My idol

My eye.

And walk down the dirty streets of Concord

To give my soul away.

Don’t know what I’m born from.

An empty house and oil drum.

This sick condition in my brain,

Always playing the same six frames.

 

Oh say can you see,

This violent peace we make with ourselves?

Oh, say CAN you see,

This house of lies and cells.

 

Oh, SAY would you feed me?

My bread of processed heart?

Oh, SAY would you take me,

Before I fall apart.”

-Parabola

 

          The light in the center of his apartment was slowly dying. The flickering made it hard for him to see as he slowly shut and locked his door. That odd lump of emotion was back in his throat, the lump of so many tears unshed.

          “Niko….my love.” He was afraid…his voice was shaking so much! Ambrose shook his head, his dark locks shifting against his face, no; he could not lose his resolve like this. He surveyed his room, or should he call it a tomb now? A giddy sense of laughter rose in his chest, and he swallowed it down bitterly, as he walked to the small dark-paned window and looked out.

          The grime stared back at him, all the houses and buildings an equal, lifeless grey. That mandated color of equality he supposed. Laying his hand on the cold glass, he spied a young girl on the street; this was odd because many women were locked up, to be impregnated. He could barely see the dark liquid running down the front of her throat and the sharpened stick that stuck out of it. He watched as she fell to her knees, and wondered if she was smiling as that fake bark penetrated her trachea. He realized that his other hand was in his pocket, holding the gun, the key to freedom.

          “Is it now or never?” he pondered to himself as the light flicked across his pale face.  He sat against the stained wall and looked at the “freedom-machine”. It was a crude version of an old handgun, letters were etched in the side but he couldn’t make them out. It must have cost Niko a pretty penny to snag this baby and it felt so good in his hand. He contemplated masturbating before this final act, but fuck it.

          This would be better than an orgasm.

          Ambrose clicked back the piston, heard it click with readiness, and then settled the barrel in his mouth. It tasted like grease and dust; he ran his teeth over it, enjoying the scraping sound inside of his mouth.

          Ambrose coiled his index finger around the trigger unaware that behind him something very surreal was happening. The wall was opening up, and he felt himself slide a bit.

          The hell?

          He spat out the barrel just in time to fall backwards. The gun went off as he saw the last flick-flick of the light across the concrete floor and he was falling, falling towards darkness. He became acutely aware that he was screaming but his voice was an echo among other voices and a strange repetition of words he couldn’t understand.

“A’encor…tro su manthie’rn…a’encor…isp al trodisia…”

 

          He hit the water hard, cold gushing up at him, making him swallow lung-full’s in his shock, and he fought to the surface and came up, hacking and coughing, struggling for air, air, AIR!

          The nest few moments were confusion a mixture of water and air as his boot clad feet found ground; crawled up onto the grassy

          (Grass?)

Ground, pulling himself like a madman away from the giant lake of death.

          (Lake?)

His stomach churned and he was violently ill for a few moments, then he fell back under the twilight.

          (Twilight? It was already dark.)

          “I…am I…dead?” His head throbbed but he forced himself to his feet.

          “I’m….outside. I must be dead.” Swaying on his feet, he pinched himself hard on the cheek. Pain shot through his face and he cried out.

          “Ah! Dead isn’t supposed to hurt damnit!” Wiping at his mouth his vision had cleared enough to see a small town that lay down the hill. He looked back at the black water, wiped it out of his eyes and decidedly made his way to the town.

         

 

          Azel had just returned from his walk when he saw that the door to his house was standing open. The yellow X was smeared with what seemed to be a wet careless hand. Azel frowned and prayed that Luke was not waiting inside for him. Slowly he counted backwards from five in his mind, and then stepped into his house.

          In the middle of his floor was a heap of a person, soaked to the bone, water still trailing off of their long black coat. Azel gasped with surprise and quickly knelt by the persons’ side. Upon closer inspection he saw that this person was indeed a man, a very pale unconscious man. Azel couldn’t recall every seeing him before and the only people who came into this nameless town were travelers, and everyone knew that travelers dressed all in yellow. Cautiously, he shook the man,

          “Are you alight?” he heard a faint groan as the man tried to get to his feet and failed; Azel quickly caught him and could smell the lake on his breath.

          “Hey, hey! Did you drink the water?!”

          “Uh…uh…am I dead...?” the man whispered in a harsh voice and slowly looked up at Azel. They both gasped at the sight of each other, Azel stared into the murky color of the man’s infected eye.

          “I…fell into the lake.”

          “Did you drink any water though?”

          “I think so.” Azel shook him, suddenly very angry.

          “Are you dumb? That water is poison!” Azel let the man fall into his lap and began to strip him off his jacket. He was working so fast that he almost missed the man’s whisper.

          “Niko…”

          “Is that your name?”

          “Niko…don’t you remember me? It’s….Ambrose.”

          Azel frowned and shook his head.

 

 

 

It was many hours later before Ambrose woke. He was lying on a thin mat covered by many blankets. His body was caught in a series of chills and his very vision was vibrating slightly. He saw someone come into the room, a man dressed in shabby homemade clothes. His skin was unlike any Ambrose had ever seen it was dark, sun-kissed; vibrant. His hair was like the pictures of what people called “snow”. He wanted to run it through his fingers but his hands wouldn’t respond to him.

          “Ambrose…how are you doing?”

          “Cuh- cuh -cold.” Ambrose sad between the chattering of his teeth and the man smiled a bit. He held up a clay mug,

          “The water around here…you have to boil it before using it, but don’t worry you’ll be fine after drinking this.”

          Ambrose started at him numbly, not quite understanding what was going on around him. The man frowned and ran one hand through his hair, “Oh, I’m Azel, so you can stop calling me Niko.” He sat next to Ambrose’s head and fished one arm around the back of him, helping him to a sitting position. Ambrose pulled his arms around himself and shivered.

          “I can sit with you if you want.” Azel gently pulled Ambrose towards him so that he could be supported. He put the cup to Ambrose’s thin lips and jumped a little as one of Ambrose’s hands met his own. Unconsciously, his free arm slipped around Ambrose’s waist and he blushed, his heart fluttering. Ambrose didn’t pay notice, he chugged the drink like it was the only drink he had ever seen then let his weight sink into Azel.

          “I guess…I’m not dead.”

          “No, you’ll be fine.” Azel smiled and Ambrose’s head slipped to the side, resting under Azel’s chin. As he fell asleep, Azel decided that he better move soon. But the weight and warmth of the other man was so nice, that he lay down, buried his head in Ambrose’s dark hair and was soon asleep as well.

 

V

 

Breaking Free

 

          The next day Azel prodded gently at his healing eye in the shard of reflecting glass he had. In the other room Ambrose was still sound asleep, and would be for some time. Azel still smiled to himself as he recalled the feeling of warmth in his heart from the night before. It was a nice substitute for the cold dread he felt when Luke touched him. He still wondered about the odd-looking eye and the strange black bruises he had found on Ambrose while undressing him. Moreover…where was he from, and why was he in the black lake to begin with? Azel supposed he would have answers when Ambrose was well, when the door burst open and in walked Luke. Azel’s heart sank and he quickly glanced at the bedroom; he didn’t want Luke to find Ambrose.

          “You, come satisfy me.” Luke sneered and tossed back his hair. Azel realized that he could see Luke’s hard on from under his pants and felt sick to his stomach. He walked over to him slowly and knelt before the throbbing black-clad thing. Luke smacked Azel in the back of the head, “What do we say now?”

          “What shall I do Master?”

          “Good whore.” Luke hawked back into his throat and spat on Azel’s neck. Azel jumped and his fingers fumbled with Luke’s pants, so Luke smacked him harder. Azel bit down on his lip, tears filling his eyes as he got his “Masters” pants off and took his member into his mouth. Without warning Luke shoved himself forward, making Azel gag. With one firm hand he held the back of Azel’s head, making him choke, saliva spilling down his lips. Azel’s lungs burned for air as he coughed against the atrocity in his mouth. Finally Luke let go and Azel fell back, blood rushing to his face. Luke’s boot came down hard on his chest as he pumped at his own member and shot his load on Azel’s countenance. The mixture of semen and tears now ran down Azel’s tan face as Luke picked him up roughly and tore off his pants.

          Luke shoved himself inside Azel, making him scream and in the next room Ambrose jumped awake.

          “The hell?” Ambrose sat up and from behind the wall he could hear the Azel crying and another man grunting in sexual desire. He pulled himself to his feet, still shaky, head still pounding, anger filling his veins as he spied around the wall.

          Azel was on the ground taking it roughly from a blond man wearing an enthusiastic sneer. He could see drops of blood falling from Azel and he clenched his jaw in anger.

          “HEY!” They both looked up at him, Azel’s eyes filled with shame and fear, the blonde snarled at him.

          “The fuck are you?!” Ambrose didn’t respond but strode over in two steps and punched the man square in the face. He fell back and out of Azel, who scrambled behind Ambrose.  Blood spurted out of Blondie’s nose and he charged Ambrose, who caught his onslaught and kicked him in the stomach. The man hit the floor and Ambrose kneed him in the chin. Azel heard something crack and cringed as Ambrose picked up his offender by the front of his shirt. All the malice had gone from Luke’s eyes; they were filled with the same look Azel wore for him.

          “You fucked with the wrong person.” Ambrose said coldly and Luke made a small mewling noise in response.

          “Leave me alone, oh god’s- what the fuck is wrong with your eye!?”

          Ambrose pulled him close to his face so that they almost touched,”

          “You’re gonna…gonna-“Ambrose’s nose twitched fiercely and he sneezed loudly into Luke’s face leaving a glob of yellow-green snot on his forehead. Ambrose smiled, let him fall to the floor and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

          “I’m allergic to shit like you, you know? So you’re gonna walk out that door and never….NEVER touch Azel again.” Ambrose stated and raised his hand to strike Luke again. Luke was out of that house faster than anyone Azel had ever seen.

          “Ambrose…you-“Azel started but Ambrose turned sharply and slapped Azel across the face.

          “What kind of man are you? You were getting fucked in the ass and you don’t DO anything about it? Is that what that fuckin bruise is from? IS IT AZEL?!”

          Azel burst into tears and Ambrose rolled his eyes, rubbed his head and walked back into the bedroom.

          “STOP THAT CRYING!” Ambrose screamed and Azel shivered at the sound of it. Tears rolled silently down his face as he touched the mark on his cheek that Ambrose’s hand had left. He had been saved from one monster…but at what cost?

****

          After cleaning himself up, Luke fumed till he thought smoke would come from his ears. He was pacing behind his house near the center of town, when it hit him.

          Azel was MARKED.

          If he couldn’t have him, he would destroy him completely.  Luke strode to the well, the dead center of town and stood atop of it.

          “WYRD PREIST, WE HAVE A MARKED WYRD PREIST IN OUR TOWN!” he shouted at the top of his lungs and instantly all activity stopped. People dropped whatever they were holding (Miss Sanders even dropped her baby) and formed a circle around the well.

          “You lie!” Ophelia stormed up from the back of the mob, “There ARE no priests’ left!”

          “Oh ho? Azel is marked with the hin-tan! I’ve seen it with my own two eyes!”

 

****

 

          Upon regaining control of himself, Azel tiptoed in into the bedroom. Ambrose was laying with his back turned towards him, not asleep, not quite over his spell of anger.

          “Um…there is a reason…I let him…” Azel whispered and Ambrose turned to face him, head propped on one fist.

          “Let’s hear it.”

          Azel slowly removed his shirt and turned his back to Ambrose. His anger died instantly when he saw the black obscure tattoo that covered almost his entire back.

          He’s like me…

Gently, Ambrose touched the black with two fingers causing Azel to shiver.

          “I was…something once…something important to people. Then…they came…no one knows why or how. But they destroyed everything…and I was blamed. The people I once worked so hard to help…they marked me with this and sent me away. This hin-tan…no one can harbor me, I am forever…forever-“His voice cracked and his body shuddered in silent tears.

          “I’m sorry I’m crying again!” Azel buried his face in his hands and Ambrose sighed, feeling much like a giant asshole.  He embraced Azel and felt him cringe away from him.

          “Don’t…don’t do that. I shouldn’t have hit you; I just…I get so mad when people let others walk all over them.”

          Azel turned to face him, “You’re not gonna leave now, because of what I am?”

          Ambrose shook his head and pointed to his left eye, “I…have this disease; the government calls it the ‘I-Disease’. People aren’t sure how you get it or how it’s spread but when they find out, they take you away. You never come back. I was about to…well; kill myself when I fell through this portal.”

          Azel’s eyes grew wide as Ambrose re-counted how he had made his way from the lake to Azel’s house. At the mention of the strange words he heard, Azel reached under the straw mat and pulled out the object. He had strung it on some black thread and now dangled it from two fingers.

          “I saw those words on this!” he turned it over in his hands, but the circle was blank now, “Maybe…it brought you here for something.”

          Ambrose sighed, “I’m dying Azel, what the hell can I do?” At the word ‘dying’ Azel’s eyes opened so wide that Ambrose feared they would simply fall out of his skull.

          “DYING?” Azel threw his hands around Ambrose and squeezed him tightly. He was sobbing uncontrollably. Ambrose rubbed one hand through Azel’s hair.

          “We all have to die some time.”

          “I’ll save you.” Azel mumbled from Ambrose’s chest. He looked up at him in such a way that Ambrose blushed slightly.

          “Why?”

          “Cause…I…wanna be with you.” Azel slowly brought his trembling hands to Ambrose’s chin. Ambrose’s face twitched with uncertainty, and gently pushed Azel back.

          “I don’t want you to get sick.” He lied and took Azel’s hands in his own and squeezed them. For a moment there was a silence between them, Ambrose couldn’t take his eyes from Azel’s face, he wanted to kiss him, to hold him, but…

          He felt so confused, so he cleared his throat, “Uh, how about you make some more tea alright?” A second passed and Azel smiled at him.

          “Okay!” He pulled his shirt back on and ran out of the house to the well. Ambrose waited for the door to click shut before he let out his shuddering breath.

          Azel.

          Niko.

          “What the hell should I do?”

 

 

****

 

          Azel ran down the hill, his water bucket trailing behind him. His life felt free, he was so happy that he was almost flying, but his hopes died when he saw the crowd of people, and Luke crowded by the well.

          “Him!” Luke pointed an accusing finger at Azel, “He’s MARKED!” Azel dropped the bucket as the crowd whispered amongst themselves and Ophelia ran to his side.

          “Luke is a liar! Azel is hardworking! He is kind! He has watched each of our children, helped each of us mark our doors, cared for each of us when we were ill! And now we do not stand behind him, even when ALL of us KNEW about LUKE!”

          “If he is innocent, let him prove it. Let him prove it and I will throw myself out of town!” Luke cried out and everyone’s eyes set themselves on Azel. Ophelia turned hers on his face as well and saw the cold creeping into his eyes. A flicker of doubt flared in her gut and she took his hand.

          “Azel…it can’t be…he’s lying. Tell me he’s lying.” She whispered to him and he just looked at her.

          “I’m so sorry…Ophelia.” He reached for her, but she backed away from him.

          “You…you LIAR! Get away from me!”

 

 

***

 

 

          Ambrose had re-donned his jacket, something wasn’t sitting right. Maybe that blonde bastard was waiting for Azel. He cracked his knuckles and went out the door. From atop the hill he saw the crowd and Azel standing with some woman.

          “That bastard…told everyone.” He punched the side of the house they were going to run Azel out, perhaps worse. He heard the cry of the crowd and the woman ran away from Azel. Things were going ugly and fast, when suddenly he heard something in the bushes. A small girl appeared leading a huge horse. She was wearing a pink dress and matching bow, for some reason, these items stuck out in Ambrose’s mind as she slowly held the reigns out to him.

          “Take her, dark man, dun want Azeie to get hurt.” Ambrose walked over and slowly took the horse. It was a healthy mare perhaps a work horse, like he had seen in history books. He ran his hand across the horse’s smooth hide and it whinnied in his ear.

          “A real…horse?”

          “Abby help Azeie and dark man.” The girl nodded in fierce conviction and ran off into the bushes. She was laughing.

          “People here are really weird…” Ambrose looked at the horse not sure how to get on, so he tied it to a tree and ran back into the house.

          He could hear the crowd again, as he rummaged through Azel’s things, throwing them all over the place. There had to be something, some kind of weapon. He came across a small box, inside was an oddly shaped dagger, with carvings on its wooden handle. He sheathed it in the leather case that lay next to it then ran into the bedroom and grabbed the stone that lay on the bed.

          “Bring me some luck or something.” He said as he tossed it around his neck.

          Outside again, Ambrose untied the horse, placed his hands on either side of it and jumped. He managed to get one leg over it and his hands on the reigns, strangely the horse was perfectly still until he righted himself, then she took off, throwing him backwards.

          Ambrose couldn’t help himself; he uttered a wild cry as the horse raced down the path into the crowd. He leaned down and grabbed Azel around the waist, hoisting him up. Azel screamed and Ambrose realized that he was laughing, this was incredible!

          “Ambrose!” Azel pointed in front of them, “TREE!” Ambrose cursed and pulled the reigns sharply to the left. The mare whinnied loudly and turned around abruptly, back to the town.

          “Shit, no, no, no!” Ambrose cried and Azel kicked the horse in the sides sharply; they raced through town, past his house, towards the forest.

          “Where do we go from here?” Ambrose yelled giddily as they passed the lake. Ambrose gave it the finger and Azel laughed with him.

          “Straight into the forest! There’s another town on the other side!”

          “And then?”

          “I don’t know.” Azel hugged Ambrose and looked back towards the village. Ambrose was having too much fun to notice that Azel was crying.