Wednesday Briefs #18 Diventando: Becoming

 

Copyright JC Wallace 2014

Welcome to another installment of Diventando: Becoming. Each week a group of authors participate weekly in Wednesday Briefs Flash Fiction. Each installment is 500-1000 words long and are posted to our blogs each week. After you read the latest in my story, click on the link at the end to visit other flashers. 

If you are new to Diventando: Becoming and haven’t read the previous chapters, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column and start with #1. Enjoy and leave a comment to let me know what you think.

 

 

Owen curled in on himself. He was back in bed in what he’d started to consider his prison cell. Hours ago—for all Owen knew it had been days—Turk had carried him to the room after the near escape of the Incubus. This time Turk had gently laid Owen onto the bed and Owen had immediately rolled away, his arms bound behind his back and his feet bound at the ankles once again. His repeated pleas for death had been ignored and he was terrified of what would become of him once the demon fully emerged. Would he be trapped in his mind, forced to witness the atrocities the Incubus would rend on innocent men? Having been party to one sickening attack already, Owen was sure his sanity wouldn’t hold through another.

He thought of his biological father, possessed by this demon until his body had broken down. He’d been used and discarded like a worn out suit. Had he been cognizant of his body’s actions once the demon had surfaced? Owen imagined his father as a young man, in his teens, and suddenly he hadn’t been human anymore, his young life cut short by the selfishness of a ruthless evil. Soon, Owen would merely become a meat suit for the Incubus to exploit and use to consume the life power of others.

For the first time since his capture, Owen was grateful for both his imprisonment and the drugs suppressing the dangerous predator lurking beneath his skin. This meant his family was safe from him. Even if they were scared to death, wondering where he was, that was better than the alternative of the demon attacking them. He imagined Wayne, wallowing in guilt over his supposed part in losing Owen. His mother and stepfather would also blame themselves for letting Owen move from home. Did they feel guilty for not telling him about the demon? Not that any of it really mattered. So much worry and heartache, but that had been all Owen caused ever since he’d first become sick. He’d gone from cancer to a body stealing demon. What was left?

Nothing but death.

He pondered Turk. Turk, who could have killed him but didn’t. A flicker of warmth sparked in Owen’s chilled body, as he recalled Turk’s tears. . Why hadn’t he killed Owen when he’d had the chance? Filled him full of bullets and ended the fucking nightmare of his life. Turk had tried to look determined, but Owen had seen had definitely been a struggle going on inside of the man as he’d aimed his gun at Owen.

Owen squeezed his eyes tight and willed the image of Turk from his mind. Despite any feelings Turk had for him, Owen was a dead man. Whether by Turk’s hand or someone in this pseudo-army, or by a demon siphoning too much power for his body to handle, his time was limited. As his time had always been. A fucking crap-filled life until the very end.

Owen waded deep in his despair, not bothering to hope for anything but a quick demise. Wading was easy in the quiet of the room. Miraculously, he’d been left alone for the most part after the IV had been reinserted yesterday. Since then, the door had opened a few times and Carson had heard shuffling of people in the room. however, they had left without speaking a word or forcing him to move.

No doubt they were all terrified of Owen’s resident evil. 

Owen heard the door open and snick closed. Owen curled in on himself tighter, the restraints holding his arms behind his back making the task difficult. Footsteps sounded as someone circled around the bed. Owen squeezed his eyes shut tight as the person stopped. He could sense them close by and the hair on his arms stood on end. He fought the urge to see who stood, silently watching him.

A deep, weary sigh filled the silence. Nervous energy bounced through Owen’s muscles, tightening his gut. He swallowed hard. Maybe the guard he’d raped was back for revenge.

Just make it quick.

“Owen.”

 The anxiety kicked up a storm of terror pushing Owen’s heart rate to the limit. Lying perfectly still, he hoped the man would leave. All he had was his hearing to try and discern the meaning of Turk’s presence—that and the crawling sensation under his skin that waited for a sword to cut off his head. His flight instinct joined the party and every ounce of conscious energy went to keeping him still.

“Owen.” A gentle touch on his arm sapped all his remaining control to play dead. Owen reared back against the metal safety bar behind him, his eyes still clamped shut. A whimper escaped his throat and he had not a fucking clue why.

Please, leave me alone.

The words rushed his veins and along his nerves, pinging through him but never making the journey from his mouth.

“I’m...I’m...Fuck,” Turk muttered and then Owen listened as he walked away and the door closed behind him. He fought to breathe evenly, stop the shudders wracking his body, cease the hot tears flowing freely, but he failed miserably. He just wanted to die.

* * * *

Turk’s voice, low and gravelly, spoke soothing words as a hand ran gentle fingers through Owen’s hair. Owen leaned into the touch as he clung to the edges of sleep. He was dreaming of Turk. That was the only explanation since he hadn’t returned for what had to be days. He wasn’t sure since time meaningless in his cell.

Owen had quit eating and drinking, refusing to participate in anything meant to keep him alive. He had a second IV in his other hand. Something to keep him hydrated and living, he’d overheard. When he’d thrashed with nightmares, they’d pumped him full of a drug that had made his head swim and his limbs heavy. Still the gory nightmares—ones filled with domination and death—came, he just didn’t thrash about anymore. He was stuck inside his head, unable to move, or beg to die anymore. They must have grown tired of the three words he’d uttered over and over.

Please kill me.

The hand continued to massage his scalp and Owen swore a groan escape his lips. If he could remain in this dream to the end, at least he wouldn’t die alone.

“I’m so sorry Owen,” Turk whispered as he continued to stroke Owen’s hair in an almost loving gesture.

Owen wanted to believe what he said, but knew he was just dreaming up words he wished to hear.

 “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make this right. There’s no way to change what’s happening.” The choked words were rough and raw as if they were bleeding pain from each vowel and consonant.  “I can’t...Gods, I couldn’t kill you. It would have been like shoving a sword in my own heart.”

A choked gasp came from Turk and Owen felt that sword pierce his own chest, the pain stealing his breath. Owen wanted to reach out and comfort Turk despite what he’d done to Owen. But all Turk had really done was contain a dangerous creature. And apparently this hadn’t even been the first time. That baffled Owen since the demon had shown him a vision of Turk chopping off its head—gory in its own right, yet impossible for Turk to have decapitated the Incubus, since the demon had been with Owen since birth.

Maybe the demon had lied.

A demon lying? Go figure.

The stroking of Owen’s hair slowed and then the hand disappeared. Owen tried to move and return contact, but the drugs had weakened him. If this was a dream, he should be able to will the hand to return.

What came next was better than a hand. Warm lips pressed against Owen’s temple, drawing a sigh from his lips. Then warm breath was on his ear.

“Hold on, babe. I’m getting Wayne and then we're getting you out of here,” Turk whispered and then he was gone. Owen held those words, as precious as any gem, close to his heart.

 

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Check out the other flashers this week at http://wedbriefsfic.com/  or click on the links below:

Jon Keys

Grace Duncan
MA Church
Chris T. Kat
Shelly Schulz
Raine O’Tierney
Rob Colton
Victoria Adams
Elyzabeth VaLey
Cia Nordwell
Tali Spencer
Sarah Hayes
Michael Mandrake
Andrew Q. Gordon
MC Houle
Renee Stevens
Julie Lynn Hayes