PREFACE
Hello, everyone! This little novella was the last incentive from my Inksgiving rewards from 2022. I'd actually been holding onto this story idea for quite some time now and found myself using Inksgiving as a motivation to finally do it. I'm primarily a comic writer/artist first, so I am a bit nervous sharing this with you all! Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoy this little story.

CW for the entire story: themes with death, some gore, language & some suggestive themes

CHAPTER 1
THE ROT HAS EYES

Clink, zzpt, clink, zzpt, clink. 

That god-awful stench.

Daniel fumbled with the worn-out zippo lighter. The cool metal almost felt warm in his fingertips compared to the icebox of a room that he sat slumped in. He took in a long, drawn out breath and fell into a trance, his clear cobalt eyes boring into the outstretched arms of Darkness ahead of him.

He held it in.

Then exhaled.

The heavy sigh left his chest but provided no comfort; his heartbeat’s thumping was still prominent in his ears, and the pungent sourness he smelled was as intrusive as ever. 

In all the years that he’d spent encapsulating the Dark in a comforting embrace, Daniel knew that this Pitch Black was different.

He’d always been the one amongst his siblings who didn’t fear the Dark; some of Daniel’s favourite memories as a child had been projecting embroidery tapestries by candlelight in the middle of power outages. His mother would incessantly nag at him that it was terrible for his eyes, but he’d do it anyway. The Dark provided a trusted silence that allowed him to delve into and sort his inner, most chaotic thoughts. This time he was not able to do that. 

His mind wandered in and out of focus as the sharp tinge of stench kept him on guard. A faint whistling travelled through Daniel’s pursed lips as he exhaled once again. His fingers continued, as if on autopilot, repeatedly flipping the lighter’s metal lid open and closed. 

He didn’t want the Darkness’ embrace. Not now.

He scrunched his nose. 

“If you keep doing that, your nose is going to stay crumpled.”

Daniel’s fiddling stopped, and with the lid left open, the lighter’s flame flickered wildly trying to  stay alive. The room was eerily quiet. Deafening. Minus the boards rattling on the egress windows as the angry winds passed through them.

“And if we’re going to play with the lighter, why don’t we start a little fire instead? It’s fucking cold in here. But you know that.”

Tearing his eyes away from the Dark, Daniel dipped his brow and rested his bleary eyes on the lean frame folded up next to him. And in that moment, his heart fell from his ears and into the barren pit of his stomach. The hollowed, greying cheeks of the man next to him was a stark reminder of how long they’d been trapped in this glacial coffin. 

“Do you have to nag, Roddy?” Daniel groaned, pulling the sherpa collar of his jacket tighter around him. His irritability was starting to take the best of him.

“What?” Roderick replied. “I didn’t say anything.”

Daniel fought the urge to roll his eyes far into the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Roderick muttered. He nervously pushed the swoop of his onyx coloured bangs out from his just as dark eyes. “Did you hear something?” 

Staring back, Daniel saw the warm russet flushing across Roderick’s tawny-beige skin. He knew that Roderick’s panic was starting to set in, and out of habit, Daniel found it in himself to rub small circles into the small of Roderick’s back. The faded ultramarine suede under his fingers felt stiff from the cold and was muddy from all the dirt accumulated on their run. He should’ve worn thicker clothing, Daniel thought. It’s a cropped jacket for goodness sake.

“It’s nothing,” Daniel murmured. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean it’s nothing?” The bewilderment was present in Roderick’s rising voice, “You definitely heard something.”

“I didn’t,” Daniel insisted, crabby.  “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Yeah, and you sound like it too—” Roderick shut his mouth when a sudden inhuman screech filled the air. A barrage of clawing followed, the only door of the vicinity shaking on its hinges while it desperately tried to keep shut. Daniel felt Roderick press his body into his. 

The two men lapsed into silence.

Bottoms firmly planted on the icy floor, their backs were glued to a chest of medicinal drawers that lined the far wall from floor to ceiling. The brass handles bit into the lengths of their spine. Daniel was uncomfortable and noted that it hurt, but he couldn’t be bothered to move as the wrath of Winter howled, gently rocking the deteriorating building.

How many days has it been now?  Two? Daniel mused, absent-mindedly scratching the stubble growing in. As cumbersome as it was in what the world was now, he always preferred to stay as clean-shaven as he could.  It’s got to have been two… or was it three?

His white-gold hair, which would have normally been combed and neatly styled on the top of his crown, was now loose and dishevelled, baby hairs wispily falling over his clear eyes. His long auburn, leather bomber was filthy, caked with dry blood—Daniel was not entirely sure if it was a mix of his and others, he doesn’t know at this point—and his tweed slacks, once a heather grey, were now soiled with muck. Daniel wanted a bath. A luxury of yesteryear. He imagined how pleasant it would’ve been to use a puff of steel wool for a loofah..

The sharp ripeness of an almost sweet acidity hit Daniel’s nose, and sent him into a coughing fit. He lifted his dull eyes towards the end of the room.

Clink. Zzzpt. Clink. Zzzpt—

It must’ve been the scowl on Daniel’s face, for an assertive hand reached out to him, and rested firmly over his own. It stopped him from flipping the zippo shut; and in the absence of any other lighting in the room, the flame glowed a subtle but intense orangey-yellow, illuminating the only face that brought Daniel solace in their current situation.

“Are you alright?” Roderick asked in a hushed whisper. 

If it were not for the current circumstances, their tangled limbs would’ve made Daniel chuckle and Jinny might’ve made fun of them. Roderick huffed, wedging himself between two of Daniel’s legs and pushed the dark tendrils that once again found themselves over his eyes. Daniel couldn’t help but notice a wince that so graciously flashed over Roderick’s expression. Then it was gone as quick as it came.

“I’m fine…” Daniel mumbled. A murmur of guilt made its way into the back of his throat. Or was it remorse? “What about you? Are you hurt?” he asked, eyes downturned.

“I’m fine.”

“Those are my words. You can’t just say them back at me.”

“Well you asked me, and I answered,” Roderick retorted with a pointed look.

It was difficult, but Daniel forced his eyes upward and met with Roderick’s watchful gaze. He searched for an answer, watching the lighter’s flame licking softly at Roderick’s obsidian irises. And for a moment, Daniel’s breath hitched when he noticed how they softened.

“First of all,” Roderick spoke quietly as he leaned in closer, “could you stop playing with my fucking lighter?” Daniel gulped and his heart rate rose as Roderick squeezed his left thigh. “But yeah. All things considered, I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” Roderick added. Playfully. 

If they’d been back in the settlement, back at home, back in their own bed, back under their own sheets, then maybe Daniel would have reciprocated the touch; he’d take Roderick by the shoulders, flip him flat on his back and straddle that lean body of his. He’d press his lips to that little mole under Roderick’s left eye and everything would be okay.

Even if just for the moment.

But in all actuality, the very thing that his mind kept revisiting was the foulness expanding from the Jet Black that was no longer his security blanket; Daniel hated that it all felt like a wet, soggy throw swaddled over his shoulders. He was unable to focus on their need to find a means to escape.

It was hesitant but instead Daniel gave Roderick a small, one-sided grin. He knew he had included some pity sprinkled in there somewhere.

Unimpressed, Roderick let out an exaggerated sigh, and rolled his eyes before plopping his bottom back down onto the creaky floorboards next to Daniel. He raised an index and middle finger, as if he had a cigarette held in-between them, and brought them to his lips inhaling and lazily exhaling a profound drag, all in one continuous motion. His hot breath materialised in the air, a puff leaving his lips. 

“I could go for a smoke,” Roderick announced to no one in particular. “Or a coupl’a Gin Rickeys. God, do some Gin Rickeys sound amazing right now.”

“I don’t think that’s quite what you need at this exact moment,” was all Daniel could say.

Roderick glared. “Yeah? Well, the least you could do for me is to stop staring out into the room like a deer in headlights. You’re scaring me,” he uttered, sliding a hand down deliberately and slowly down the front of Daniel’s shearling jacket. It stopped at his abdomen.

And, albeit shamefully, despite the mess that Daniel’s mind was in, how filthy he was and how weary the both of them were, a taunting prickle dove straight down to his groin. He took Roderick’s hand and held it tight. “We need to find a way out of here,” he finally managed to say. “The longer we wait, the longer everyone back home is getting worse.”

“I know.” There was the underlying anxiety that Daneil could see behind Roderick’s disgruntledness. “We will—but in the morning.” Although spent and exhausted, Daniel was still sharp enough to notice the grimace that Roderick sported when he tucked his right leg underneath him. “I’m fine,” Roderick reassured. “How many times do I have to tell you?” In an attempt to shake the attention off himself, Roderick leaned into Daniel and threw an arm over the broad chest he so very well knew.

Daniel was caught by surprise when he felt the tenderness of the embrace. It was something of nostalgia and coziness. Of warmth and relief. Of week nights and weekends. Of silky sheets and fluffy slippers. Of safety. Of love. He fought back the stinging at the corner of his eyes and wrapped his arm back over Roderick.He squeezed.

“Let’s go to sleep, babe,” he heard Roderick say, lips murmuring into his neck and cheek nuzzled into the fuzziness of his shearling collar. “There’s nothing we can do right now.”

Daniel contemplated on retorting, that he would instead try again to light a fire. Not that they failed at all on numerous tries already. He closed the lighter with a final clink and sunk into his slouched position, the two of them with their arms locked around each other.

The room plunged into Darkness.

Resonating through him, Daniel found the familiarity of a deep rooted fear engulfing his body; the hairs on the back of his neck rose as he sat in the Jet Black, and in near silence.

It took what must’ve been hours before his eyelids felt heavy. He was slightly jealous of Roderick’s ability to fall asleep almost anywhere, feeling the leaner man breathe soundly while curled up into his shoulder. And when his eyes were about to close, Daniel swore he saw something from across the room.

His breath hitched, chest tightened and his breathing shuddered.

There were two leery obsidian pupils, set in stark white ovals, staring straight back at him through the veil of Darkness.

And the smell, Daniel noted, the smell was as pungent as ever.