Perfectly Wicked, Chapter 6
Perfectly Wicked
By Jason D. Karl
Author's Note:
This story is dark, twisted, erotic fantasy fiction about a gay vigilante killer with paranormal abilities. It is the product of the author's imagination and should not be construed as real in any way. This should be read only by adults of legal age. The story contains explicit gay sex and the type of violence found in vampire stories. Don't try this at home or anywhere else. That said, I hope you enjoy my twisted tale.
Link to character images for this story.
Chapter 6: What Is an Abjo?
Kyle was stunned. He stood there staring at this mysterious man, who kind of looked Greek or Turkish and maybe was in his early 40s. He'd just addressed Kyle by name. What the fuck was that? "How do you know who I am?"
"It's alright, Kyle, we've been expecting you. I am Ro Kushim, and this is my apprentice, Javert Tissemand."
Kyle stepped into Le Chien Royal. He figured there was no need to pussyfoot around because both of them were clearly magical. "You're like me--not exactly the same, but similar. I thought I was the only one who could really do magic."
Kushim said, "What you are is very rare, but you're not the only one. We are Erkek."
Did these men know what Kyle was? Maybe he could finally get some answers. "Erkek? So, I'm not a vampire, then?"
"There's no such thing, though the myth of vampires is loosely based on encounters with our kind. But we don't burn in the sun or sleep in coffins. As for you, we call what you are an 'Abjo'."
Kyle took a seat. "And what's 'Abjo' supposed to mean?"
Kushim sat down, facing Kyle. "Erkek don't usually reproduce, but it's not unheard-of. If one of our kind does sire a child with a hetero (that's our word for humans), then the offspring and any of its descendants don't normally have much in the way of our powers. Some of them have a few abilities that heteros don't have, but nothing like what Erkek can do. But, very rarely, one is born that does have our power. We call those 'Abjo'. That's what you are, Kyle, an Abjo."
Kyle wasn't sure if he believed this. "So, you're saying I'm a human-Erkek hybrid?"
He seemed to sense Kyle's doubts. "We're getting ahead of ourselves. The sun will rise soon, and your powers won't be as strong. So, while you still can, look into our minds and see that we're telling you the truth."
Kyle did just that. First he looked into Kushim's mind. It was vast. He might look like a 40-year-old man, but he was an ancient being, thousands of years old. Next he looked at Javert's mind. This one was young, not much older than Kyle, but definitely of the same species as Kushim. And there was neither deceit nor delusion in their thoughts.
As soon as he pulled out of their minds, Kushim continued his explanation. "Our kind each have a Mana core; it's the source of our abilities."
"And what is 'Mana'?"
"Mana is what heteros call 'magic'," Javert replied.
Kushim said, "The human-Erkek hybrids, as you called them, normally don't have a Mana core; but an Abjo does have one. And that's a serious problem."
Kyle felt lost in the conversation.
"There are humans who believe they were created by some vast intelligence," said Kushim. "That is nonsense; they evolved the same as any other species on this planet. But in the case of the Erkek, it's true."
"So, you're saying that god didn't create humans but did create the Erkek?"
Javert answered, "We were created, well manufactured, by an ancient species. Their technology is eons ahead of anything the heteros could produce. But, no, they are not gods."
"And you know this, how?"
Javert blew out an exasperated breath. "Erkek don't have parents. We are grown in a device we call 'The Great Pool'. So, yes, we know for a fact that we have creators. They are called the Skapararnir."
Kushim sighed. "The Great Pool draws in Mana and shapes it into a core, and around that core our organic flesh is grown. Our Mana core is precision-engineered and stable. The Abjo's, unfortunately, is not."
"You're saying my magic--or Mana core or whatever the hell you call it--is unstable?"
"I'm afraid so. An Abjo's core blazes like a wildfire that cannot last and burns itself out," Javert explained with a touch of condolence.
Kyle didn't quite know what to make of this. "How quickly do they burn out?"
"In all our history, apart from yourself, only four Abjo have lived past the age of ten. The only Abjo who ever lived as long as you have was born seven thousand years ago," Kushim answered.
Kyle was stunned. "So, you're saying I'm a dead man? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"
"There are things we can do. That you're still alive means that your Mana core is at least partially stable. The Emperor thinks that a major factor keeping you alive is your having such frequent sex, which is refueling your Mana and extending your lifespan. That and killing, of course."
"But that's all I've been doing. Killing and fucking."
Kushim gave a nod of approval. "And you must keep doing both in order to survive."
"Just to be clear, we mean having gay sex. Being with a female is risky for us. It can disrupt the balance of our Mana, which can be fatal," said Javert.
"So, we're like pussy-intolerant?"
"As I mentioned before, Erkek did not evolve but were deliberately created," Kushim replied. "All Erkek are male and are designed to exchange Mana during sex with other males. We weren't engineered for females, so having sex with one of them could allow the female to absorb all of our Mana. And when you're empty, that's it. You're dead."
Kyle found this odd. "But you said that there are human-Erkek hybrids, so how can that be if all you ever have is gay sex?"
Javert said, "Like any other species, Erkek have some oddballs. Some of us risk death to fuck a woman. And, every once in a while, there's a child produced."
"But if you're a completely different species, how can you have children with humans?"
Kushim answered, "We are shapeshifters. When we take the form of another species, it's not just the outward appearance, it's everything down to the DNA and reproductive systems. But, of course, imbued with Mana. So, while we can technically reproduce with any species that has females, it's really unwise and quite often fatal."
"So no fucking women, but killing them is okay?"
"We feed by having consensual sex with males and by torturing or killing the malicious of any gender," Kushim said as casually as if it were nothing more than dietary advice.
Javert interjected, "And speaking of torturing and killing, we have a little gift for you downstairs."
"What do you mean?"
Javert smiled. "You did come here to kill Travis Bingham, didn't you? Well, we've procured him for you."
"He's in a dog kennel in our dungeon," Kushim added. "I'm afraid we've been toying with his mind, but we haven't physically tortured him too much yet. Well, Javert did break a few bones, but we saved the rest for you."
"What do you mean by 'procured him'?"
Even though the question had been directed to Javert, it was Kushim who answered. "When you killed David Jackson and Wilmer Pislik, I was there, hidden in shadow. When Travis ran off, I put a compulsion in his mind to come here. I figured we could keep him from causing trouble until you came for him."
Kyle remembered something. "When I was torturing Jackson, I thought I sensed something for just a moment, but I didn't see anything."
"Yes, you looked right at me. You couldn't see me, of course, but that you sensed me at all is amazing. The Emperor is the only other person who's ever been able to sense me when I'm in shadow form."
"There's an Emperor?"
"Yes. He is the leader of all Erkek. We can talk about that later. For now, Travis Bingham awaits."
Kyle thought having Travis Bingham delivered to him like this was a little too convenient. "What's the catch?"
Kushim said matter-of-factly, "You get to kill him, and we get to observe how your powers work. The more we learn, the more likely we are to find a way to fully stabilize your Mana core."
"Alright, I guess. Take me to this 'kennel' of yours."
They led him down a winding staircase into the bowels of Le Chien Royal. Finally, they arrived at a heavy metal door at the end of a corridor. Inside, there was a stoutly-built dog kennel. In it lay the unconscious form of Travis Bingham.
Javert kicked the bars of the cage. "Wakey-wakey, Travis. Our special guest is here to see you."
Travis woke and lifted his head off the floor. "Oh, fuck! You're The Bleeder!"
"Indeed, I am. You know why you're here, don't you, Travis?"
Travis's desperation was evident in his trembling voice. "Please. Let me go."
Kushim said, "We've already talked about this, Travis. You picked the wrong night to play your little gay-bashing games. Time to pay the price."
Kyle's smile grew colder. "We're about to do to you what you did to your victims. The only difference is that we're professionals while you're just a bumbling amateur."
"Please, I'm sorry. God--"
Kyle cut him off. "Were you doing your god's work when you stalked me? Does your god like it when you beat gay men to death?"
"The Bible says--"
"Fuck the Bible. Better yet, pray! Pray to your asshole god to save you from the homos!"
Kushim offered, "Kyle, do you remember what they said to you when they cornered you in Tugurio Park?"
He thought for a moment. "If I recall, I think they said, 'If the homo sucks our cocks real good, we might let it live.'"
Javert made the tsk-tsk sound. "That doesn't sound very heterosexual to me. Maybe his god will smite him."
"What are you going to do to me?"
Kyle answered, "I'm going to kill you. Maybe I'll do it quickly; maybe I'll take a year so I can savor it."
Javert stepped up. "But don't worry; your death will not be in vain. You see, we have a little business here. A pet shop, quite successful. We sell an ultra-premium dog food, and do you know the secret ingredient, Travis?"
Travis swallowed hard. "What?"
Javert's smile was chilling. "People like you. You're the secret ingredient that gives our dog food that extra panache. Our clientele's pets just can't get enough of that homophobic flavor."
"You can't do that to me!"
Kushim showed no hint of compassion or concern. "Oh, but we can. We've been doing this for years."
Kyle scratched his chin. "But that's after you die, we have to get you there first. And do you know what's really special about being murdered by me? I can keep you alive and aware for a very long time. Your buddy, Jackson, was still awake when I started eating him. You know, I don't think he enjoyed the experience quite as much as I did."
"Perhaps it's time for a physical demonstration," Kushim suggested.
Kyle looked at Travis. "Just think of this as a learning opportunity. Today's vocabulary word is 'bifurcate'. In this context, it means 'split lengthwise into the shape of the letter Y', as in a bifurcated river. Travis, you're the student. Can you use 'bifurcate' in a sentence?"
"For the love of God, please."
"I have no love for your god. But, getting back to my lesson, I'm going to bifurcate your penis. It hurts so much more than just cutting it off. It seems only fitting since you brought a knife to stab me with that night at the park. Besides, it will help you remember today's vocabulary word. But, don't worry, I'll be sure to cauterize the wound. We wouldn't want you bleeding out."
Kyle looked over to Javert. "Please tell me you have a scalpel and a blowtorch."
They tortured Travis for more than two hours. In the end, Kyle decided not to kill him that day. Sniveling coward that he might have been, Travis had done some truly horrible things when he was part of Jackson's gang. Kyle would see to it that his punishment lasted a very long time before he was allowed to die.
§§§
Afterward, in Kushim and Javert's apartment under La Chien Royal's ground floor, they told Kyle about the Erkek's rules.
"Erkek are predators," Javert said. "And predators have two primary strategies: ambush and pursuit. Ambush predation works best if the prey don't know we exist."
"So you're saying we can't ever tell them?"
"Never," Kushim stressed. "The Erkek have very few laws, but one of the most important is that we never reveal our true nature to the species we prey upon. If they knew what we were, it could lead to complications."
Javert took over the explanation. "Imagine if heteros discovered that we were real, that we've been feeding off them for millennia. Panic would spread. They'd be on guard, and then luring them in would be much harder. Pursuing our prey can be fun, but ambush is our mainstay."
Kyle thought for a moment before answering. "I've been careful, haven't I? No one's caught me yet."
"Careful, yes," Kushim replied, "but not careful enough. The way you leave the bodies perfectly exsanguinated? Some of them might start thinking it's supernatural."
"Just make the kills look like something a hetero could've done," Javert added. "Beatings, stabbings, strangulation, disemboweling. That sort of thing. Go ahead and drink their blood. Just be sure to leave some for the crime scene detectives."
Kyle shrugged. "But why? Why would they suspect me?"
"It's not about who they suspect," Kushim said, "It's about their labeling it as 'supernatural'. If they think you're just a sick fuck with a penchant for the dramatic, they'll write you off as a madman. But if they start tossing around words like 'vampire' or 'demon', that's when things get complicated for us. So, what we're saying is that you need to be less flamboyant when you kill."
"Let me get this straight," Kyle said, "I can kill as many of those fucking bigots as I want, but I can't let them know it's a magic-user doing it?"
"Exactly. Pile the bodies knee-deep in front of the police headquarters for all we care. Just don't leave any evidence that suggests the killer isn't a hetero."
Javert had a smug look on his face. "We hide our kills by grinding up the remains of our prey and selling it as premium dog food. The rich folks around here pay top dollar for it, too."
"Wait, so you're telling me that you two actually feed homophobes to dogs? I thought you were just messing with Travis's mind."
"Oh, we really do it. But it's not just homophobes we feed on. It's anyone who's cruel. Malice creates a disturbance in the Mana. We were designed to feed on that," Javert answered.
Kushim added, "Mana is everywhere in the universe. But just like water deep underground, we need something to bring it up so we can consume it. The best things for that are having sex and preying on those who're malicious."
"So, you're feeding off humanity's worst, like I do?"
"Yes. We were specifically designed to target the malignant individuals in intelligent species. The weak, the sick, they can be left to their own devices. But those who actively harm their own kind? They are the ones we are drawn to and eliminate."
"But humans are the only intelligent species on Earth," Kyle pointed out.
"Dolphins and elephants are also intelligent, but they're not malicious. Not like heteros. On Earth, the only nutritious species for us is the heteros," Javert said.
"Think of it as a form of artificial selection. By preying on the worst of a species, we ensure that the species evolves towards empathy and compassion," Kushim added.
Kyle took in this new information. It was a heady concept. "But what happens when there are no more malignant people for you to eliminate?"
Kushim said, "Then we move on. We've cleansed worlds before this one, but it's a very long process. Heteros are quite prodigious in their capacity for malice. It's what makes them so nutritious for us. And when they've had another fifty thousand years of course correction, then we might find them unpalatable. Until then, we dine. But I think you've learned enough for one day."
§§§
After leaving La Chien Royal, Kyle paced the streets for a while, lost in thought. As far-fetched as what these Erkek had told him might seem, it rang true to him. He'd always felt like a predator, and he did so very much love killing assholes, and yet he'd never once been tempted to kill anyone even halfway decent. Now he knew why.
He finally got home, took some weed from his room, crashed in the living room, and lit up. He asked Señora Navarro to join in, but she declined. He pulled deeply from the joint, closed his eyes, and laid his head back against the couch.
"Where's Spencer?" he asked.
She was sitting in her usual chair. "Oh, I told him to go out and try to get himself some cock."
Kyle chuckled despite his weariness. That was just like her. "Seriously?"
"Fuck yeah, I did. He deserves some fun."
Kyle took another drag off the joint. "Señora, are you going to make Spencer smoke another one of these when he gets back?"
"Yes, I told him this morning that he has to smoke a joint every day until he loosens up and has himself some fun. Life's too short to walk around with a stick up your ass."
Kyle smirked, took the last drag off the joint and put it out. "You're a wise woman, Señora."
Before he went into his room, he remembered the money he'd taken from the wallet of that rapist he'd killed the previous night. He peeled some bills off and handed Señora Navarro her cut. As always, she didn't ask where he'd gotten it, and Kyle didn't tell.
He lay down on his bed. The late-afternoon light filtered through the blinds. He stared at the ceiling as he tried to grasp the fact that he was an Abjo.
Kyle thought back to his earliest memory, when he would've been about six or seven. Anything before that was a complete blank. It was as though his mind had turned on for the very first time at that particular moment. He was stabbing some man in the throat with a steak knife. Who the man was or why Kyle killed him, he had no idea. Maybe it was a pedophile kidnapper? Maybe it was his father? He'd probably never know. A day or so later, he'd been found wandering the streets, unable to speak. No records of who he was were ever found, and no one ever came looking for him. So a social worker made up a birth date for him and named him Kyle Rogue, which he later changed to Kyle Truhan. He was put into foster care, eventually winding up with Señora Navarro.
He'd never stopped killing. Thinking back on it, his youth had been a perfect disguise. What cop would suspect a homicide was done by a tiny little orphan boy who was still learning his ABCs? When he'd first started having sex, he often killed his johns. They were, after all, child molesters. He felt a little nostalgia for those early days, when murder was so carefree.
He thought about the children's stories that told of monsters that punished naughty boys. They'd never frightened him. Why would they? It turned out he was the boogeyman. Kyle couldn't help but smile to himself as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
§§§
Several blocks away, Spencer Williams was smoking a joint with Sven, a stranger he'd just met. He took a drag and felt the smoke tickle his lungs. It made his eyes water a little. He handed the joint back to Sven. "Thanks. It's just weird, you know?"
"What's weird?" Sven asked.
"This. Smoking weed with a hot guy I just met. I've never done that before."
Sven took another hit and passed it back to him. Spencer took a drag and coughed a little when he tried to hold in the smoke. "I'm not just new to smoking. I'm a virgin. I've never even had a kiss."
Sven smiled. "Can I be your first?"
There was just a hint of a nod. Their lips met. When they parted they both took another hit off the joint, then Sven put it out.
Spencer, perhaps emboldened by the pot, pulled Sven into another kiss. This one was longer and more sensual.
Just as their tongues met, that odd thing where a foreign thought popped unbidden into Spencer's head happened once again. This time it was a single word, which wasn't a word at all: "Erkek."
Thank you for reading my story. Please let me know if you think I should continue it. Comments and suggestions are welcome.
My other series on Nifty is A Hankering for Pecker which is a comedy about an 19-year-old who comes out to his hillbilly father. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/a-hankering-for-pecker/
I also have a standalone story on Nifty called The Boys Who Loved. It is a sweet fairytale about two boys who fall in love at a tender age and how their parents deal with it. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boys-who-loved.html
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