Breakdown - 34. 32 The Demon's Clutches

Cam felt better as Gabriel held him. The tears stopped, and gradually he relaxed. His confession had tumbled out, and there had been a blissful moment when he was sure that everything was going to be all right. Maybe he should have told Gabriel sooner, because Gabriel could have protected him. Cam allowed himself to be held against Gabriel, his head on his shoulder and pondering the road that his life was going to take.

Would the police be able to protect him?

Could he get into rehab and get off whatever this was?

Outside, the clouds had gathered. It started slowly, rain pattering against the windows and down on the street below. It gathered strength, turning into a shower that made the windows shimmer and the world outside seem incredibly dark.

“We should phone the police,” Gabriel said quietly. “As soon as possible.”

Cam nodded, but made no movement to get up. He didn’t want to leave the security of Gabriel’s arms. Gabriel also seemed reluctant to leave the spot on the couch, as he was unsure what Cam would do without support. Gabriel’s head was spinning; if half of what he’d told him was true, this Aziel was seriously bad news. How could someone be so terrible? Luring someone with the promise of a better life and slowly making it impossible for them to achieve the goal?

It gave Gabriel a cold feeling in his heart, and he was almost sorry he had asked.

The rain against the window was a soft hiss. The gentle white noise covered the metallic scraping at Cam’s front door. Gabriel stared out the window; Cam kept his head against Gabriel’s chest. The silence between them was soft, and both seemed unwilling to disturb it.

The metallic scraping turned into a satisfying metallic click.

Gabriel rubbed Cam’s back softly. “We really should phone the police,” he whispered into the top of Cam’s head. Lightly, he pushed Cam away so that he could get up and find the phone. Cam wiped his nose and nodded, going to stand as well.

Gabriel walked around the couch. Cam looked out the window, gazing at the soft lights of the city and listening to Gabriel’s footsteps.

“What,” Gabriel started, and then there was a heavy sound of flesh on flesh. Gabriel cried out, and Cam whirled where he was on the couch.

Aziel, wearing a dark, loose trench coat and a peculiar suit of what looked like body armor, was standing over Gabriel’s reeling form. Smoothly, the assassin went for a holster on his chest took out a shining chrome gun.

“Aziel,” Cam whispered, fear shaking his vocal cords and turning him to stone on the couch.

“Game over,” Aziel whispered, and pointed the gun at Gabriel’s slowly recovering form. There was a soft pfft sound that didn’t sound entirely like a gun. A light flashed from the muzzle of his gun and Gabriel let out a soft cry, followed by a groan.

Then nothing…

Cam leapt to his feet to try and tackle Aziel before he pulled the trigger. He was painfully slow; the assassin showed no hesitation in his movements and had pulled the trigger before Cam’s thighs had finished pushing him off the couch. Cam screamed, the only reaction that was fast enough, and Aziel turned to face him. The ugly muzzle of the gun came up as Cam launched himself over the couch.

Maybe Cam wasn’t as slow as he thought. He managed to hit Aziel in the chest before the gun went off a second time. The gun, Cam’s main focus, was an ugly thing. It was large and heavy looking, with a muzzle that was wide and dark. It wasn’t like anything Cam had ever seen before, in movies or otherwise.

Aziel was pushed back by the force of Cam’s leap. He stumbled back into the kitchen, growling out something. He finished the backwards stumbled with a few quick steps, putting some distance between him and Cam’s now sprawled form. Cam spared no glance back towards Gabriel (he didn’t want to know) and tried to get to his feet to leap for Aziel again.

Aziel was faster this time. The cold blue eyes looked at him with a light glint of amusement as he pulled the trigger.

There was another bright flash, that peculiar pfft sound, and then Cam felt something burn in his chest. It brought up his charge short, and he looked down.

Sticking out of his chest was the blue end of a dart. Immediately, Cam started to feel dizzy and wobbled on his feet. He stumbled forward, his vision becoming grey. Everything inside of him was swimming.

He felt Aziel’s arms around him, catching him from falling completely. He wanted to pull away, wanted to fight, but the heaviness that spread from his chest wouldn’t let him. He could barely breathe.

“Goodnight, Cam,” Aziel whispered, a smile on his lips as Cam went fully limp in his arms.

It all was a nightmare. Cam had convinced himself of that somewhere in his subconscious, and was struggling to wake up. He had to know; he had to wake up and see Gabriel beside him and know that all of this was just a fucking nightmare.

His head hurt. His vision throbbed. Everything felt heavy.

Cam ignored these symptoms, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He was on his own bed, in his own room. There was a chair with a darkened figure sitting in it at the end of the bed. Cam could just make out Gabriel’s sweater in the semi-darkness. His head was bowed, and his arms were held tightly behind his back. There was a dark smear down the front of Gabriel’s sweater; Cam felt his blood go cold.

“He will be out for another few hours,” a voice said from beside him. Cam whirled, his brain feeling like it was sloshing around in his skull. Aziel was sitting with his ankle crossed over his knee, fingers steepled in front of his mouth.

“Aziel,” Cam croaked.

“You’ve been bad, Cam,” Aziel said firmly. “You told him about me. Now what do you suppose I’m going to do about that?”

Cam swallowed, holding the blankets to himself. He was shaking visibly, glancing between the horrible assassin and his love.

“Just… just leave us alone,” Cam whispered. “I won’t tell the police, I swear.”

Aziel stood, looking like he was almost going to consider that offer. Then he shook his head. He slowly approached the bed. Cam wanted to flee, but where could he go? And he couldn’t leave Gabriel behind. In the semi-darkness, Aziel’s eyes glinted with ice.

“You’re going to have a choice,” Aziel said quietly. He pointed to the night stand, which he had pulled away from the wall and cleaned off. Sitting on it, like a surgical tray, were ten syringes lined up and filled with some nameless fluid. There was a small vial next to them, mostly empty. It had Aziel’s bizarre code numbers and letters scrawled across the front. Cam felt his body go cold at the sight; they were all lined up like deadly weapons of war.

“What are you going to do?” Cam asked his voice small as he looked up at Aziel.

“I’m sure you know what this is,” Aziel said quietly, looking at Cam with an expressionless, cold glare. “And I’m sure you know what its capable of.”

“Yes,” Cam whispered. Why were there so many?

“I know you’ve witnessed an overdose, Cam,” Aziel said quietly. “Doesn’t take much for an overdose especially in an untrained system.”

Cam shook violently on the bed, the bedding knotted in his hands. “You killed Derek,” he whispered.

Aziel tilted his head to the side, smiling a little. “No, he killed himself,” he replied. “The weight of the drug broke him.”

“You got him hooked!” Cam accused, anger flaring out the fear for a brief moment, hot and uncontrolled.

Aziel shook his head. “I merely supplied the tools by which he committed suicide,” Aziel said. “He was a sore disappointment.”

Rage boiled in Cam’s chest, but the glassy, cold fingers of fear tempered it. He felt his breath rattle from him, uncontrolled and shallow. His chest burned where the dart had hit him.

“As I was saying, in an untrained system, three of these syringes are enough to provide the mechanism of an overdose,” Aziel said softly. Cam watched as he stroked his fingers over the small plastic cartridges with their gleaming silver stings. Cam swallowed. As horrified as he was, some part of him still wanted the poison that lay before him. “In a trained system, you could perhaps take five.”

Cam’s eyes returned to Aziel’s. He didn’t understand what he was getting at, but he had a good idea. It was twisted, twisted beyond reason, and that black-hearted bastard was probably enjoying every minute of it.

“You have to make a decision, Cameron,” Aziel said softly. “How many do you take?”

Cam inhaled sharply. “I… I don’t want any.”

“For every needle you don’t take,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. “It goes into your lover instead. And he’s untrained, Cam. How many can he take before he runs the risk of overdose?”

Cam’s mouth fell open. There were 10 syringes lined up on the cloth. Between them there was no way to split them without running the risk of them both overdosing. At least one of them was going to die, in the painful grip of muscle spasms, choking on their own tongue and flinging snot and froth in the air in their death throes.

The whore on the bed looked over at Gabriel, tears welling in his eyes. He looked back at Aziel. “If… if he lives, will you let him go?”

“Of course,” Aziel replied. “I have no interest in him.”

Shivering with a dread more overpowering than anything he had ever felt in his life, Cam faced the demon before him with his 10 silver teeth. His heart shuddered in his chest, anticipating the sting of the needles and the horror that lay beyond.

“I want them all,” he whispered. “Give me all of them.”

Aziel smiled softly, taking joy in the other’s answer. “Then take off your clothes, Cameron,” he said. “I want to fuck you again before you die.”

Cam choked a little at the harshness of the words. Cam had always expected to have a short life due to his lifestyle, but he had never really thought about it. He didn’t linger on the fact that the next care he crawled into could be his last. All he could do was pray that his death was fast and mostly painless. What would the stab of a knife feel like? Would he be beaten to death? It had always been in the back of his mind.

But now, away from the street and removed from the life that had so endangered him, Cam understood exactly what kind of joy life could be. Joy that Gabriel had brought him. If he had felt that joy from the beginning, maybe he wouldn’t be in this horrible mess, the victim of this malicious, unfeeling snake.

With death looming in the next few hours, Cam slowly removed his clothing. He ran his hands over his skin. The tears streamed down his cheeks and his throat felt thick. Naked, he sat on the bed, looking at Gabriel’s slumped form tied to the chair at the end of the bed.

He extended his arm willingly.

Aziel carefully undressed himself from his body armor, watching Cam’s beaten demeanor with amusement. Now naked himself, he moved onto the bed and pushed Cam into the sheets. Cam choked out a cry, his hands going to Aziel’s biceps. The firm body of the assassin leaned over him, his grin a white flash in the dark.

Cam spread his legs. He closed his eyes when he felt Aziel’s fingers worm into him, his hips shifting slightly. His flaccid member responded sluggishly, delayed by the sinking horror he felt in his heart.

Was his last pleasure on earth to be with this monster?

Cam’s tears were flowing freely over his cheeks and resting in his ears. His member lay against his stomach, pulsing with need. He hated that his body had betrayed him in the face of death, hated the fact that the assassin’s hands were so talented. There were no words on this earth that could express the loathing in his heart.

The lubricant was cool against Cam’s flesh. He felt slick fingers slip into him, touching his soft insides and making him shift against his will. Aziel’s mouth, soft lips with a harsh, hard intent, pressed against Cam’s own. Moaning in a mix of pleasure and despair, Cam accepted his kiss and placed the flat of his hands against Aziel’s chest.

Aziel pulled away only to issue an order. “Touch me,” he whispered.

Cam, unable to disobey for fear of what he would do to Gabriel, slid his hand down his toned stomach and grasped the needy organ that waited for him. Aziel had lightly covered it with jelly and it was slick to the touch. The head of his member was throbbing urgently in his hand.

Unconsciously, Cam spread his legs further apart. His body was anticipating the feel of the other inside of him.

Aziel pulled away from him, kneeling between his legs. Cam looked at the assassin’s cold eyes, and then his erect, bulging member between his legs. He felt disgusted with himself.

The assassin took up one of the silver stings from the nightstand. Cam offered up his arm, his breath shuddering. Aziel tied off his arm and slipped the needle into his flesh.

That rush of pleasure, that burn, excited his brain. He felt it claw through his body, claiming him in a whirlwind of chemicals and emotions. Gasping like a fish out of water, he barely felt the sting of the second needle.

After the second or third (Cam couldn’t count them), Aziel shoved into him. The drug flaring in his system, Cam felt the intrusion with every fiber of his being. It ripped into him, it pleased him. Unable to control himself now, he shifted and groaned under Aziel’s harsh attentions. The assassin’s thick member split him open and left him begging for more.

He spilled over, but the climax seemed unable to dull the feelings racing through his body. He cried out, screamed, shouted, his nails digging into Aziel’s back. He felt the warmth of the other’s body against him, in him, as if trying to break his spine.

The stings of the other needles barely fazed him. In a state of pleasured drunkenness, Cam could barely comprehend that his last moments on earth were fast approaching. Aziel’s face blurred in and out of focus, ice chip eyes swaying in the darkness of his room.

When Cam’s body failed him, the silver claws of the demon were empty of venom.