Condemned Ch. 02

I couldn't stay awake. No matter how strong my resolve was I couldn't fight the basic human need to refresh my body. As I looked back across the narrow confines of the bedroom I saw a pair of ice blue eyes glitter in the encompassing darkness, watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake. I jolted upright again, determined not to give in to the needs of my own body, knowing that if I did I might not be given the opportunity to wake back up.

I was shivering as I pushed my self further against the far wall of the room. Michael kept his chambers uncomfortably cold, too cold for me to feel any sort of comfort. From the corner of my eyes I saw a flash of his teeth and realized that he was smiling at me. "There are ways for you to keep your self warm Conner." He said mockingly, laughing at me as he pulled back the covers of his bed.

I didn't say anything. A part of me reasoned that I had to keep him as calm as possible. I doubted I would be able to stem my own hysteria if I opened my mouth to speak so I clamped it firmly shut and looked away. He clicked his tongue impatiently and I heard him stand up. My body tensed even as I realized that if he did decide to kill me there was little I could do to try and stop him. I squeezed my eyes firmly closed and waited. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks but I didn't make a sound as I felt his presence loom over me. A hand landed on my head and I flinched. He chuckled quietly and patted my head as if I was a dog. "I'm going out now Conner, do try to get some sleep. The beds there waiting for you if you decide it's too cold here on the floor."

I didn't move until I heard the door close and then I cautiously raised my head, half expecting him to jump out at me. He wasn't there though and the room felt warmer because of it. I shifted slightly and carried on with my vigil but exhaustion finally had its way with me and I fell into a restless slumber.

*******************

Before all hell broke lose and the country turned into a cesspit of murder and madmen my mom used to tell me these bedtime stories. They should have been gentle enough not to terrify me but the truth was I that I was a wimp as a kid. My mom said I was sensitive; my dad assured me I'd grow out of it. I hadn't though, even now when I was all alone in the dark those childhood stories still came back to haunt me.

Just before everything first went arse upwards my dad had the fortitude to see what was going to happen. He secured the house as best he could and stockpiled food and water. Because of that my mom, dad, sister and me we were able to stay hidden during the worse of the rioting. The gangs formed swiftly afterwards, making it hard for us to leave our homes during the day. My mom was constantly terrified and wouldn't leave the house so it was up to the three of us to gather food and water. I was about twelve years old when my dad told me and my sister to wait for him in an alley as he went into an abandoned house to scavenge some food. We must have stayed there for three hours before my sister, my elder by two years, told me we had to go because the sun was about to set. I didn't want to leave dad, I told her so. I remember the blank look that passed over her face as she grabbed my arm and dragged me back to our home. When we got inside our mom was waiting for us. My sister took one look at her and said in a voice void of emotion that dad wad dead. Her name was Lilia. A couple of years later she disappeared. I always wondered if she had been killed or just abandoned us. Mom pretty much lost it after that. That was when I was left to look after everything, my self and her included. I always thought I was pretty good at what I did. I'd managed to avoid trouble for so long that I was beginning to actually think I might be able to survive, maybe live to the ripe old age of thirty.

I quelled a laugh, knowing it would probably only come out as a strangled sob. So much for surviving. Michael lay across from me now, sleeping peacefully, his face smoothed into an expression of comfort and contentment. They were supposed to be vulnerable during the day. I had been told that they slept so soundly that one could easily take their heads without them waking. Sitting there, watching him as he occasionally twitched or shifted I realized that the person that had made that assumption had read too many Anne Rice novels. I was willing to bet that Michael was an extremely light sleeper.

I slowly became aware of the needs of my own body. I was hungry and very thirsty. I wondered if Michael even remembered what it felt like to have a mortals hunger. I still had the canned fruit in my bag. I lifted it out slowly and felt a torrid of relief that the lid didn't require a can opener. Trying not to make any noise I opened it up and drank the juice inside. I ate the whole contents of the can but I was still hungry afterwards. Despite the hollow feeling in my stomach I didn't touch any of the other cans. Maybe it was being a little optimistic of me but I wanted to try and make them last.

Now that discomfort had been rectified I became aware of the cramping in my legs and the ache in my back. I had been practically curled up in a ball for hours. I stood up slowly and tried to work some of the feeling back into my frame. Careful not to make any noise I began to stretch my joints, easing out the kinks and twinges. My eyes passed cautiously over Michael. My heart jump up in my throat and I fell back several steps. He was staring at me, his ice eyes glaring daggers at me as he emitted a low growl deep in his throat. My legs collapsed beneath me and I fell painfully to my knees. "I'm sorry," I gasped, the words escaping my treacherous mouth as I began to try and back away from him.

I saw him sit up, visible as a faint outline in the dark room, his eyes still locked on mine. "What exactly is it you're apologizing for?" he asked.

I thought he might have been smiling again, but if so I couldn't make out his teeth. Small miracles!

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"Then you shouldn't have been so damn loud." The words were harsh but spoken with a light tone. He stretched his arms, almost mirroring my earlier movements and stood up. He walked within ten feet of me and I found my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I heard a distinct click noise and then the lights shone back to life, momentarily blinding me after being in the dark for so long.

He looked down at me and twisted his nose sourly. "You need a shower Conner." He bent down and caught my arm, dragging me to my feet. I tried to dig in my heels but it didn't deter him in the slightest. He dragged me the short distance to the bathroom and pushed me inside. I tripped but his strong hand caught me again before I fell. He spun me around and pressed my back flat against the shower cubicle. I emitted a quiet whimper as his milky white hands tore the fabric of my shirt, pulling it off and letting it drop into a heap on the floor. He stood back and stared at me, his eyes glowing as they caught the light from the next room, reminding me suddenly of the cats that used to wonder around when I was kid, back before they were considered a common food source.

I took a single step forward, trying to push past him, to gone in my own terror to properly think about what I was doing. It was a mistake, a stupid, thoughtless and utterly futile mistake. He pushed me back so hard that my head knocked painfully against the glass cubicle. His hand wormed its way through my hair, gripping it tightly as he wretched my head back. "Never, ever fight me boy, you hear me? You fight me and I'll rip your fragile little neck in two." He let go of my hair and pushed me back again. His hands latched onto my hips as he traced the material of my trousers with his thumbs. "You need to stay calm son, you stay calm and I won't hurt you."

Bullshit! I thought dazedly as he stepped back and looked expectedly at me. I looked away, pressing my arms over my chest as I tried to hide the sight of my exposed flesh. "The pants Conner." He said to me, pointedly looking down. I followed his gaze slowly before looking back up at him. I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes, blurring my vision. "Conner!" he snapped. "The pants, now!"

My hands were shaking so violently that I couldn't make them close properly. I began to fumble with the buttons, desperately trying to open them, terrified because I wasn't moving fast enough. I looked up once, noted the amused expression on his face and felt the last ounce of my strength slip away. My knees buckled and I allowed my self to cry. I was living in a nightmare. I knew he was going to kill me, as surely as I had known my mom would kill her self, as surely as I had known that stupid kid that got her self caught all those years ago would never get up again. I couldn't stand it anymore, the wait was excruciating.

I heard a soft clucking noise above me before strong hands grasped my upper arms and hoisted me to my feet. He smoothed back my hair and wiped the tears off my cheeks, whispering soothing noises as he moved. He undid the buttons on the trousers and slid them slowly down my thighs, moving my legs slowly out of the trouser legs, positioning my limbs where he wanted them. I looked away during the whole thing, trying to picture what life had been like before everything had gone to hell. I was too young though and almost all of my memories consisted of the basic need to survive.

It was a shock when the warm water hit my body. I'd never had a warm shower before, hell the truth was I hardly ever got the chance to bathe properly. The creatures elegantly tapered hands moved over my hair and body, lathering me up with sweet smelling soaps. I looked down at the soiled water that disappeared down the bath drain, amazed by how long it took before the water running of my body was finally clean and unsoiled. The powerful fingers latched into my hair, smoothing over my head and tracing a line down to the middle of my back where my hair lay in wet tangles. "When you're finished I want you to change into the clothes I've left out for you. Brush your hair and wait for me in the sitting room."

The commanding manner in his voice knocked away some of the terror that had numbed me. I stared haltingly at his retreating back, watching his through a tick blanket of hot steam as the water pummelled by chest and shoulders. I felt the tears threatening to come again and pushed them angrily back. I hated that the creature could make me cry, that he could rip open every ounce of vulnerability and fear inside of me and leave it open and bare.

I must have stayed in the shower for hours when the hot water finally cooled and turned icy cold. For a long time I still didn't move but then the discomfort became too much to bear and I had to turn it off. I stayed still, dripping and shivering on the cool marble floor. I didn't want to leave the shower room because I wasn't sure what was waiting for me.

"Conner," His voice rang out, startling me from my revere. I took a deep breathe but didn't answer. "Conner!" He yelled, "Damn it boy hurry the hell up!"

I stepped outside and saw the clothes that had been laid out for me. A simple grey jumper, a pair of faded jeans, old trainers and some non-descript black boxers. I put them on quickly, savouring the warmth they offered. There was a full mirror across the other side of the room. I stepped towards it and as I examined my self I wondered what it was about me that excited him. I was the poster child for malnutrition, my lank black hair lay in tattered rat tail tendrils to the middle of my back, my cheeks were hollow, my skin sallow and paper thin.

He walked in then, his eyes pinning me to the spot as he took up the brush and stepped behind me. I think he wanted to be gentle but my hair had not been well maintained. For my own part I managed to contain my pained groans as he hacked away at my throbbing head. Eventually I heard him swear and stalk off. He came back shortly with a wicked pair of scissors clutched in his long tapered hands.

I was half way across the room before he caught hold of me. He was laughing as I strained against his hold, lifting me up as easily as I would a child before settling me down on my feet in front of the mirror. "Come on kid," He said. "If I wanted to hurt you do you think I'd need these to do it? They're for your hair!"

I stopped struggling but I couldn't control the unbearable trembling. His hands travelled over the back of my head and down to the nape of my neck. He collected my hair and began cutting away at it. I watched it drop to the floor around my feet, praying to god that he would be finished soon. I heard the scissors drop but he didn't let me go. One hand latched onto the back of my neck whilst the other took up the brush again. It was easier this time but it still took a while before he was finished. He turned me around abruptly and locked hold of my waist. His light eyes caught mine before travelling slowly up and down the length of my body. The expression on his face made me want to curl up into a tight ball. Before I could protest he pulled me tightly against him and covered my mouth with his, bending me backwards as he forced his pelvic into mine. I instinctively tried to push him away but the loud animal like growl he emitted froze the blood in my veins. I caught hold of his shoulders for purchase but I was too afraid to try and push him away again.

One hand slid down my hip and caught my arse. He squeezed hard and I let out a pained gasp. The moment my mouth opened he forced his tongue down my throat, licking and slathering the inside of my mouth. I cried out but the noise was muffled to almost nothing. I didn't want it. I didn't want his hands on me; I didn't want his tongue in my mouth, his lips on mine. I punched his chest with all the strength I could muster, ignoring the growl this time as I let loose a flurry of panicked blows. He pushed me away so abruptly and with such violence that I didn't register that I had been released until I was lying flat on my back in the middle of his bedroom.

He made a soft tutting noise as he walked towards me, smiling as he undid the top button of his jeans. I watched in muted horror as he stepped over me and reached into his trousers.

"Wait!" I hissed, backing away from him. "What are you doing?" my hip and back hurt as I shuffled backwards. The way he just threw me away from him, with such power, it was terrifying. That he could hurt me so much without really meaning to-

He pulled out his dick, semi hard in his hand as he followed after me. I had never seen another mans before and I was shocked by how large his was. I stared up at him and then back down at it, a denial on my lips. Suddenly my back hit against a wall and back was no longer an option. "Don't," I whimpered, unable to look away despite how much I really wanted to.

"What do you think I'm going to do Conner?" he asked me, the laughter clear in his voice as he stepped over me.

I was saved from answering as the door to the room was knocked loudly. He grinned at me and stepped away, his dick still in his hands.

"Adrian," he said happily, stepping aside and ushering a young woman into the room. Judging by her dark skin and warm eyes she was one of the gang members. I had to admit she was stunning in a hard sort of way. Her eyes passed dismissively over me before she stepped inside and made her way towards the bed.

Michael looked back at me and growled deep in his throat. "Get out!"

"I beg your pardon?" I said stupidly.

"I-said-get-out." He repeated slowly.

I propped my self up the wall and edged towards the door. I expected him to pounce but he just watched me, the smile clear on his face. The door opened and I stepped outside into the gothic corridor. "Conner," he called out quietly. "Be back here before sun rise."

I didn't have a chance to answer as the door slammed in my face.