Jake C. Wallace: Wednesday Briefs #17: Diventando: Becoming

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.

Note: This story has explicit sex scenes between men. In this week’s scene, there is nonconsensual sex, so if this makes you uncomfortable please, do not read any further.

Like a spectator, Owen could only watch as the demon lunged with great speed and grabbed hold of the guard who’d escorted Owen to the bathroom. Owen could feel the warm stubbled skin of the man’s neck under his hand. His hand squeezed harder and the man’s eyes widened in fear. Strength flowed through Owen’s body and a heady rush of power expanded in every cell. Despite the guard having four inches and at least fifty pounds on him, Owen knew that his hand could crush the man’s windpipe with little effort.

“I am stronger than ten men,” the Incubus agreed. “But we will not be killing this man.”

The guard whimpered, his eyes filled with terror, knowing what was to come. He pushed against the Incubus, fighting unsuccessfully against the attack. Owen was about to protest when the Incubus leaned forward and traced the scar on the man’s face with his tongue. A burst of energy filled Owen’s tongue, as if he’d licked the end of a battery.

So much power waiting to be taken, the Incubus thought as a growl rumbled from his chest. Owen felt drugged and was lost in the bliss. But he must give the power willingly.

Owen’s hand moved to wrap around the man’s neck and drew him down until their lips touched. A fire swept through Owen’s body, hardening his cock instantly. The Incubus’ desire to possess this man overwhelmed Owen’s senses, drawing in the taste and smell of the man. The intoxicating waves drew Owen into the experience despite the lack of control he had over his body. The guard suddenly stopped struggling and lunged at Owen, crushing their bodies together. The man moaned into Owen’s mouth and his hard cock dug into Owen’s stomach. The man’s kiss intensified and his hands were everywhere on Owen’s body until he was practically mauling Owen.

The rush, the electricity crackling the air, the pulsing throb of his dick, all had Owen ready to take this man, take everything he had to offer.

“Not yet,” the Incubus said and pushed the guard back. The man’s chest heaved and his lips were red and swollen. His pupils were pinpoints of black as if he’d been drugged. A red flush covered his skin and the bulge in his pants strained the zipper.

“Tell me I can have it,” the Incubus demanded of the man who immediately nodded pushing against Owen’s hand on his chest. “Say it!” the Incubus bellowed.

“Take it! Fuck me, please,” the guard pleaded, his eyes hooded with lust.

The Incubus growled with delight, turning the man and pushing his chest into the wall. Owen’s body blanketed the man as his hand reached around, flicking open the guard’s pants. In one motion, the man’s pants and underwear were around his ankles.

“Please,” the man begged. “Fuck me!”

“You will get what you desire, human,” the Incubus said, as Owen spit into his palm then rub his saliva over his dick.

Excitement and expectation slammed Owen hard as his dick moved toward the guard’s entrance. His mind pinpointed on the adrenaline coursing through him and the pleasure that would come from owning and possessing the man. The man who…wasn’t Turk.

“Stop thinking about the hunter,” the Incubus spat. “Once we have the power from this one, you will have the hunter.”

An image of Turk splayed out, wanting and needy, before Owen flashed in his mind. Turk who Owen wanted with every fiber of his being. Turk who had warned Dr. Sealy , “It was two feet away from gaining the power needed to reach a corporeal state. Once he does, he will take control and be unstoppable!”

Another vision of Turk, the gentleness of his brown eyes, the ease of his smile, the way he’d touched Owen with such reverence and care, tore at Owen’s heart. The man before him was not the person Owen wanted, was not the person who meant the world to him. He was about to…Oh God, he couldn’t do this!

“You have no choice, human,” the Incubus said. The sound of delight in Owen’s own voice was jarring.

Allowing the Incubus to take this man, violate him to obtain hiss power, drain him, would bring the Incubus forth, make him corporeal—and shit, that sound bad for Owen all around! But he was powerless to stop the demon.

“Accept it human. You’re body belongs to me and soon it will be all mine.”

The demon roared and pushed Owen’s dick into the guard’s ass in one solid motion. The man screamed yet still begged to be fucked, demanding more. Owen tried to block out the energy crashing around him as the Incubus used the man in front of them to fuel his emergence. This was less than a fuck, this was domination, a fucking rape, and Owen had to stop it now!

Focusing on the energy within his body, Owen worked to harness the power. He focused on expanding within out into his own mind to gain what little control he could. For every inch he gained, though, the demon gained a mile. But Owen wasn’t going to quit until quitting was his only option!

Again, Owen recalled what Turk had said in the dream. “I am life. But I am also death.

Suddenly, he understood. Those words made perfect sense. Owen blocked out the demon and the crime he was perpetuating with Owen’s body. He thought of Turk, and his family, and love. He thought of shy smiles and gentle touches. He thought of a future with Turk, snuggling on the couch, walking hand in hand, making love, hot breath on his lips, fingers skating over his skin. He thought of life and the power of living every day, and he actual heard a sob escape his lips because he would never have any of that.

Down the hall, shouts filled the air as the door banged open. Owen turned his head, which he seemed to have regained control of, along with his voice. The rest of his body, however, remained under the demon’s control. Turk ran down the hall followed by a group of men and women all with their guns drawn. Turk skidded to a stop, his gun pointing at Owen. Oh, the pain in his face, the hurt in his eyes as he watched Owen having sex with another man, tore a hole in Owen’s chest, the gaping wound irreparable. Tears filled Owen’s eyes and spilled in warm rivulets down his cheeks. Turk was death, but not only death. Salvation.

“Kill me,” Owen begged, looking straight into Turk’s eyes. The demon roared in Owen’s head, struggling to regain control. Owen couldn’t allow the demon to exist any longer—even if that meant he had to die!

Turk jerked back as if someone had slapped him.

“It can’t get out! Shoot me, Turk!” Owen screamed.

Turk’s eyes widened and he stuffed his weapon into the gun holster and reached over his shoulder and pulled a rifle over his shoulder. In quick succession, three darts stabbed into Owen’s chest. With one last flare of power, the demon screamed as the cold solution filled Owen’s chest and worked to reign in a struggling demon. With the last bit of energy he could pilfer, Owen pushed away from the guard he’d violated.

Falling back, Owen curled into a ball, naked and exposed on the cold hard floor. Why hadn’t Turk ended him? Why hadn’t he filled him full of holes and freed him from this nightmare?

Black boots raced around Owen and one set stopped in front of him. Owen shivered uncontrollably from the cold infiltrating his body. The Incubus was quiet. Gone with the insidious monster were the power and the lusty need to dominate. Nothing Owen did would keep the demon at bay; nothing anyone did would ever keep the monster from taking over and crushing Owen’s soul.

Someone kneeled before Owen and he flinched as a hand gently grasped his chin and turned his head. With a furrowed brow, Turk searched Owen’s face for something. Owen’s tears flowed freely and they were all he had left to give. Turk’s palm cupped Owen’s face and the rough pad of his thumb brushed tears away. A sob tore right out of Owen’s chest and he leaned into the warmth of the hand. Turk’s eyes were glassy and his jaw clenched hard.

“P-please, Turk. Just kill me.”

A tear escaped Turk’s eye and rolled down his cheek but he didn’t answer. Owen closed his eyes and soaked in the warmth of the man he would never have.

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Nephylim