Kind?

Zane stared at the man, bewildered and only slightly afraid, but his presence was lightened by the kid who stood happily at their side, still buzzing.

Breathing became easier, he’d almost forgotten how to do it properly, and the heat in the air prevented him from getting a good inhale, but he felt okay now—he felt safe.

It was strange to feel that way when the man’s monstrous touch seemed to enjoy caressing his body—first, his face and neck, then down to his chest where the tips of those pointed fingers found his nipples. Zane shivered, not in fear or disgust, but arousal, a sensation that drew more curiosity from his mutant savior.

And, as if by instinct, Zane reached up, stroking those fingers that teased and explored his body covered in sweat and blood, that threatened to provoke unseen sensations by way of pain or pleasure.

A series of noises escaped the darkness of that hood, a hissing accompanied by a similar clicking that he’d heard all night, but it didn’t hold the murderous intent as the others had in their nightmarish forest song. He was curious, this monster taking a human’s shape, and he began to realize stroking Zane in certain spots drew greedy and rough sounds from his lips, moans he held back in fear and embarrassment.

This wasn’t the time nor the place, yet his mind was clouded and unable to settle on a single rational thought.

Sharp points sought his lips, leaving the others at his chest to play with tender peaks rising from under his shirt, and two slipped into his mouth.

“Kind…” He whispered in that deep voice.

Zane moaned, and the man growled, using long fingers to pinch his tongue and open his mouth until it was too wide to keep saliva from dripping down his chin.

The forest cried, turning the mutants' attention toward a cacophony of wailing from distant sources—human screams mixing with swarms of insect noises. His savior stood and took a few steps away, but Zane moved forward and caught the end of the man’s jacket, stopping him.

“W-Wait…don’t go.” A frightening heat started sinking into his body, starting from the skin, especially where the hawk wasp licked him. His skin felt sore, itchy, and burned with a feel-good pain that had only gotten worse when the man touched him.

His grip didn’t loosen, “My friends…they could be in trouble….help me…find them.”

Everything—his senses, the forest—it all slowed when he fell forward in a feverish daze and was caught by the man’s large hand.

Shadows fell, crawled from the trees, and surrounded Zane with cruel temptations.

Little by little, he was pulled closer to the darkness in that hood, his eyes only focusing enough to see faint glints of light and the outline of something opening. He heard buzzing and felt his face being touched by several sleek and wet tongues—or so he thought. And those tongues found his mouth, burrowing deep into his throat in a breathtaking and heart-stopping kiss Zane didn’t think he was going to survive.

But that was alright.

Instead of panicking, or screaming, or worrying—Zane wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and allowed him to feed.

A red balloon popped, the last one on a now-empty board scarred with decades of puncture wounds.

“We have a winner.” The masked vendor said in a low and unimpressed voice, turning to clear the game.

“Ha! Yes!” Pike clapped his hands together in triumph, smiling ear to ear with a sharp grin and settling his gory eyes on Jesse. “You’re so sucking my dick tonight.”

The vendor flinched, cocking his head at them as Jesse turned to Pike with a flushed face and widened eyes. “Don’t say shit like that out loud!”

Pike laughed, shifting the cherry-flavored lollipop in his mouth to hide the stains of blood on his teeth from an earlier meal. He leaned against the booth, watching Jesse closely and tasting the embarrassment spilling from his skin.

Fuck, he was cute, like a shy maiden trying to save face by choosing a prize after the vendor asked him to pick one. Pike was fixated on Jesse’s ass in those tight jeans and admired every curve exaggerated by a fitted shirt hugging the defined muscle he spent half his life acquiring. His hair was dark with glints of leftover violet from a wash-out dye job and styled as if a too-perfect gust of wind just hit him. Like always, he wore the jewelry Pike forced upon him—an antique watch worth more than his life, diamond studs taken from a store in the ’80s, and a silver chain recently purchased from some rich prick in the upper city.

Pike enjoyed spoiling Jesse; it was almost better than making him tremble in fear or watching his face during a good orgasm, small joys that dulled the demons wishing to rip him open like a book of gore. But, he wouldn’t let that happen.

Yet.

While Jesse chose his prize, Pike swirled the candy around in his mouth, tasting sweetness with bitter blood as he watched unsuspecting people frolic around this shit hole cover-up. Or he assumed.

Something was happening, something stirring underneath the surface of this nightly wonderland. He smelled it—blood in the air, mixing well with the oil and burnt sugar aroma. Crowds of teenagers and young adults had doubled after an hour, lured in by the promise of fun and the glow of rainbow lights. And if he thought Jesse wouldn’t come back with one of his useless friends or alone, Pike would’ve ignored this breeding ground of malice, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d give up his human to low-born shadows.

“Thanks,” Jesse accepted a pink rabbit—some girly-looking plush with bows and shining eyes. And he turned to Pike smiling. “Well?”

Pike shrugged.

“We should probably head to the restaurant,” He said, looking at his watch, then pointing to one of the snack stands. “I’m going to get a drink, and we’ll go.”

Jesse walked off, and Pike watched him, but he wasn’t the only one. Beside him, the dart vendor had his sightless eyes on Jesse, carefully watching him walk away behind that ugly mask they were all wearing.

Interesting.

The vendor noticed Pike staring.

“What are you looking—”

Pike stabbed his fingers into the man’s mask and tore out his eyes in a flash of blood. 

With both eyes impaled on his claws, he watched the man fall backward with a smirk.

“I’m looking at you looking at me, bitch,” He said, flicking both eyes off his fingers and sucking the blood clean as he snuck a quick photo of the body with his phone.

“Fuuuck, you’re such an asshole. Why would you throw the opossum? He didn’t do anything to you.”

“Quit your bitching, and let’s find Zane so we can leave. Man, how did he make it out before us?”

Two men walked past him, and Pike inhaled the scent following them—blood, death, and something disgusting. His eyes narrowed, and his brow arched in question.

He made eye contact with the taller of the two—a pretty piece of ass with lots of steel and ink—and Pike smiled, kissing the air to entice the young man, who turned away with a soft grin. 

“You know what? We never got a prize at the end of the maze.” His friend said, and they disappeared into the crowd.

Maze.

Pike turned and saw the entrance they were discussing.

He left the booth and walked closer to the entrance crafted out of trees.

The shadows whispered, speaking to him in a language not even he would know, but they wanted him to enter. They wanted him to get lost, to step off the path, to panic, to run…and to bleed.

“Pike?”

Jesse’s voice came up behind him, and he curiously read the sign.

“You wanna go in?” He asked, his eyes carrying an enchantment of curiosity caused by unseen terrors.

Pike shook his head. “No.”

And he glanced over with a wide grin. “But, I’ll go in eventually.”

Jesse stiffened, almost spilling his drink. “I-I was talking about the maze.” The curiosity fled.

“Yeah, right,” He laughed, releasing the voices of inner demons that man Jesse shiver. “Don’t fill up on lemonade, cupcake, cause you’ll have plenty to drink later as per agreement.”

Still laughing, Pike walked away from his flustered human in tow, leading him further away from the temptation of shadows.