West Heights Apartments, Kenan.
Despite the time of day outside, Emmet’s room was shrouded in darkness. To farther complicate things…his mind was bored.
Several candles were scattered throughout the room. Most of them were centered upon the bedside table, illuminating the space enough for him to examine his choice of decorations from where he laid on his belly, covered by a sheet from the waist down. He noted his skin was paler than normal in the ill light as his head twisted about his shoulder, surveyed the apartment’s given space and warped image. Pale light and shadows danced in a playful measure across the room’s furnishings (a medium dresser beside the doorway, a basic box bed, and finally two small, round side tables beside it) then sank into the crevasses and created vague shapes. Some were bizarre, disfigured even while others were perfect outlines; their partly hidden forms gave the room a creepy aura to him. Despite his age, Emmet was surprised to feel a flicker of unease raise the hairs on his neck for only a moment. Then he quickly squashed his childish reaction in order to continue his survey towards the only window within. It was pointless really since his job was mostly done in the dark after all. The drapes, smelling of stale cigar smoke and mold, held tightly together and covered the grimy glass inside from curious eyes. Beyond it, he knew, was the crumbling fire escape outside where it traveled down to the alley below, a horizontal platform poorly bolted to the brick wall of each apartment. In his opinion it looked more to be literally a death trap instead of a safe exit, defeating the purpose it was put there. Years of rust layering the bars and bolts to the rattling ladder missing the odd step here or there. He had little doubt one day it would simply become nothing more than red dust.
Sudden movement caught Emmet’s attention, followed by the door’s protesting creak. It turned away him from his thoughts and musings, interested to know the source. His head twisted farther back and his elbow pushed underneath his chest, his body had been lying upon his bed the whole time, propping him higher as he craned behind his shoulder to spot the dark silhouette in the doorway. A tall and lean figure, male with thin jagged lines raced up and down the outline padded in. His dreadlocks cling to his face, highlighted by the candle he held close and guiding his way toward Emmet, paused to set his candle among the rest. He was shirtless with only a dark pair of pants to cover below his waist. His arms crossed over his chest while his eyes roamed over Emmet's multiple scars and indentations stained by brownish blood from once fresh wounds. Juan’s white smile stood out in the shadows clearly showing he enjoyed Emmet’s predicament.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
Emmet face frowned. Slowly he lowered his body back to its original position, his arms folded under his chin to become a pillow for his head and answered in an irritated fashion. “Let’s just get this over with, Juan. I’m not in the mood for your flirting today.”
Juan merely chuckled, amused by Emmet’s acid tone which caused the man’s frown to deepen. Paying little mind to Emmet’s annoyance, Juan leaned in, his voice gentle and velvet, to whisper into the man’s ear. “Impatient, aren’t we? Come on Emmet, you have to love this. I know I do.”
Emmet’s eyes narrowed upon the demon, fighting the needed to crawl away as much as he would’ve liked to. Some things were impossible to do by himself and though he hated the facts, he needed Juan’s help. He felt Juan pat his shoulder, making him flinch, and then his eyes followed Juan until the darker skinned demon pulled out of his vision. The bed’s weight shifted around to the side and then settled upon his hips, Juan’s figure straddling Emmet to prevent him from thrashing too much. Emmet took a deep breath and realization his chance to run was gone settled in. Gently Juan’s fingers tightened about his shoulder, black nails dug deeply into the skin making Emmet’s heart turn into stone. It became heavy and still, the thing dropped from his chest and sank into his middle where it twisted into knots, over and over. Its sound echoed within his hollow head. Each deafening thump filled his ears with blood, worry, and adrenaline swirling into an utter mess at its center. Goosebumps peaked up where Juan held a firm grasp, making Emmet remember how terrifyingly strong Juan could be when he put his mind to it.
“I’ll be gentle. However, you might want to brace yourself and relax. It always hurt the first time.” As Juan warned Emmet, his grip tightened alongside it.
Then- before Emmet reply to stop it or otherwise- he began.
Red hot pain flooded Emmet’s body. It licked up his body, raced through his veins, and sent his teeth to bite down abruptly. A rustic, coppery taste filled his mouth. He had bitten his tongue, he knew, but didn’t know how badly he damaged it. His face scrunched up in agony as Juan’s hand pushed him farther into the mattress to hold him still. To muffle his torment, Emmet pressed his mouth deeper into the meat of his arms where his silent yells vibrated off its surface, muffled any sound they might’ve made. Instinctively, forgetting Juan’s words of caution, his body tightened which rippled throughout his spine causing him to jerk. Then everything went ridged, stiffened like a board against his will. Moments turned into hours, but when they were blissfully over, Emmet felt a relief wash over him and shuddered into a sweaty heap back onto the bed’s embrace.
His exhausted eyes shifted to the side where he spotted Juan stirring. A small clink came when the demon hands rose over the side table and tossed the sewer imp’s jagged tooth into the ashtray. Emmet’s lungs decided to work once more, inhaling in shaky breaths, in and out, when Juan sat back upon his hips. A warm sensation of what he knew was blood trailed alongside his lower back and to his side. Sweat seemed to add to the sting, a salt to his wounds, as Emmet’s head pressed into his arms for comfort.
Juan’s mused voice broke his relief, his body once more rested over the hips. “I hope I wasn’t too much to handle, I did say I would be gentle.”
“Shut the hell up Juan,” came Emmet’s bitter answer, raising his head upright, “and get off.”
“Awwww…and I was very much enjoying myself. Should I kiss it and make it all better?” Juan asked, sounding almost excited by the thoughts, and slowly made to lean down over the injury.
“Hell No!” Emmet twisted around, his arms raised to shove Juan off while he scooted towards the bed edge in an attempt to place distance between them.
His body managed to wiggle out from under before he reached and flipped on the lamp, nearly blinded himself in the process. He blinked a bit while he pulled away the sheet tangled around his legs, revealed him in his boxers. It was because blood was such a pain in the ass to wash out in suit pants, including the tedious explanations to the curious questions. The alternative was Darius’s assigned drycleaner and that was expensive as hell itself, even for a man who didn’t ask questions, and besides Emmet preferred to avoid reminders of who tugged his leash. A sound caused him to glance at the ashtray. Triggered by the intense light change, the imp tooth released a dark fluid which sizzle the remaining blood with a soft hiss. It was a reminder of why the candles were necessary. Their light was softer and the imp’s venom didn’t react so badly to it, a fact if it was still in, he likely would’ve been twisting in seizures while his body burned inside out. Not a pleasant thought. It sent a shiver down Emmet's back, covered in sweat, dirt and now fresh blood.
Juan was sitting on the bed corner. He had folded up his right leg underneath him, his eyes alight in teasing, ignoring Emmet’s shudder. After a moment or two, he spoke in a particular sweetness that would’ve made a sugar addict high or die of an overdose. “You were tense, I just wanted to help.”
Emmet rolled his eyes. The comment sounded innocent enough, but he had a feeling Juan won’t hesitate if he swung that way. He followed his eye roll with a groaned but said nothing. Instead, he was already blowing out the various melting candles then putting them away, his still wound inflamed from its recent extraction. He edged towards the dresser where he knew he needed to get a shower, bandaged, and dressed before Zi arrived. His hand tilted the digital clock from its face plant to check the time.
Juan, ignoring Emmet’s reaction, continued while he pulled his dreads out of his eyes, watching intently. “Might want to get cleaned up before Zi, wasn’t that her name, arrives? In what, a little under an hour?”
Emmet kept his silence. As far as he was concerned the parasite on his bed didn’t exist right now. The only sounds he made were the continued loud thumps of candles, their thick forms being hastily tossed back into their drawers and discarded. It didn’t help he didn’t want to discuss Zi with Juan, and instead occupied himself with the single chore. When his bare feet approached the shredded remains of his top, an over coat and rest of his belongings, he jerked back then looked down. Sighing, he bent down a moment to retrieve his gun and dagger, then finally side swiped the rest into the corner near the dresser’s other side on his way to deal with the rest of the candles. He aimed to dress more casual for Zi then his work clothes though he would have to contact Darius to replace the shirt, shredded into many ribbons alongside his overcoat beyond repair. He made sure the clothes were out of sight, somewhere where Olivia would never see until he burned them. He didn’t feel like explaining to his sister how the blood had gotten there or the fact not all of it was his when she visited later. It wasn’t often he picked her up and today, he didn’t want anything to ruin it.
“You realize, by ignoring me, you’re bleeding all over the room?” Juan took on a rare seriousness.
It caused Emmet to freeze in his tracks as he heard the mattress creak from Juan’s moving weight, the demon’s feet headed towards him. Closer, closer the steps came until they stopped behind him. He felt a slight sting when Juan’s hand was placed at the side of his wound, examining it, causing a fresh wave of misery to creep into his flesh as the demon’s words spoke. “Nasty…Well, get a shower and let me bandage that up or you’ll bleed into your shirt. Can’t have that, now can we?”
“Can’t you just burn it closed?” Emmet blurted out and didn’t turn, noting the weight of his weapons in one hand. He tried to ignore the sensation that his flesh was three sizes too small for him while inwardly he recoiling at the idea Juan was suggesting.
“Not with that imp saliva still in the wound. I risk closing bigger arteries and then you’ll just decay from the inside out. I don’t think Darius would love me crippling or even killing his star boy, now would he?” Juan said, an edge of laughter at Emmet’s question like an adult chiding a child’s stupid question.
Emmet casted Juan a spiteful look then let his shoulders slack in defeat. As much as he wanted to overlook Juan’s wisdom under perverted goals, the demon was right when he needed the help. He could shower, clean up and try, but he would fail firmly wrapping the bandages about his torso. He attempted to once. The result was sloppy enough it started to fall off not shortly after which defeated the purpose. Leaning his head forward, Emmet’s free hand rose to ruffle the hair line along his neck for a bit. Finally he answered, through gritted teeth.
“Fine…I’ll get clean up and let you bandage it. But!” Emmet added hastily holding up his free hand, his eyes jerked back to spot Juan’s mouth about to reply. “I’m showering alone and I mean it. Else you’ll find yourself sent through a wall by our bathroom’s tile.”
With that said Emmet snatched up a black shirt, pair of jeans and boxers on his way out, pushing open the door then slammed it shut behind him. He continued to walk down the hallway which connected it, the living room and the bathroom until he disappeared into the latter. Once he shut the door close, the lock made a sound click.
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