Breaking

6 – Marcus

treetops

Marcus

 

The farther East he flew the brighter it got as the sun was rising to meet the new day.  He flew non-stop along the major highway that was a main vein of thoroughfare through Nebraska until he was just south of Chicago.  He had to land to rest his over-worked wings.  They were the strongest part of his body but they were now beginning to feel as if they were going to rip right out of his shoulder blades.  By his estimation he had flown approximately 500 miles in less than four hours.  Yet, he wasn’t close to his destination.  He could still hear her intermittently calling to him.

Come to me.

I’m coming, lady!  Keep your panties on, he had thought to her not knowing if she could hear him or not.  A lack of sleep was giving random thoughts free reign in his head.  He had wondered when was the last time he had eaten something solid.  He couldn’t remember.  He had pondered when the last time he had used the bathroom.  He had just flown a pretty good distance and not once did he have to stop to take a piss.  That was amazing to him.  He usually always had to take a leak the moment wheels touched the highway.  He supposed that maybe since there were no wheels involved this time there was no urge to go.  He decided that those scientific guys who are always itching to do a test of some sort should look into the correlation of taking a piss and rubber touching asphalt.  He had to giggle at himself now.  He was getting stupid from sleep deprivation.  He had to get some sleep, but where?  He had no money for a hotel.  He couldn’t even afford a Motel 6.

He had decided he couldn’t walk on the ground in public view with his wings so visible.  He had found railroad tracks crossing over a creek.  The sign posted for all to see proudly displayed that the water he was flying over was Thorn Creek.  A little bit further to the south he saw trees that would indicate woods or a park.  He was delighted that he could figure that out by himself.  He had just realized this was the first time in his entire existence that he didn’t have some sort of co-pilot; someone to share the journey or lead him this way when he wanted to go that way.  No one was around to tell him he took a wrong turn or that the big red sign with words on it was a demand to halt. 

He flew to the top of one of the trees overlooking a path that stretched out from the bridge crossing over the creek from one side to the other.  A few people, not many, were standing on the bridge romanticizing over the water.  A few more, again – not many – were walking the path from the park below his perch to their vehicle parked in the well lit parking lot a few hundred yards behind his current position.  The smells were incredible.  He could smell the iron melding in with the blood pushing its way through a blonde guy’s veins.  A darker man walked directly beneath his spot in the tree oblivious to the fact that he was right above him.  He didn’t have any sense of time these past few days, but he knew it was night and it was well beyond midnight; almost morning.  Why were these people out in the park this late?  As soon as he thought this question a wave of hunger rushed through his central nervous system.  He almost lost the grip his talons had on the thick tree branch high above the unsuspecting man below.  He could hear the night crickets singing their lullaby to the moon just moments before.  That lullaby was now being serenaded by a steady and fast-paced heart beat.  His head had become center stage for a troop of drummers all beating the same rhythm at the same time.  BOOM boom.  BOOM boom.  BOOM boom.  

He thought back to that moment that he had the same feeling in his bones, the feeling to strike and chomp and bathe in Shortcut’s blood while she held him in the hidden chamber in the pyramid in Egypt.  His eyes had rolled so far up that he could almost see his brain.  His jaw began to shudder and his own veins became alive with urgency.  Another man approached the one below Marcus.  He was about to strike, but now there were two of them.  He couldn’t risk being detected and possibly captured by the Illinois police.  Not with these wings he was sporting.  And not with the lack of clothes that hadn’t been apparent to him until this very moment.  He was watching his veins dance the “dinner dance” when he noticed he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.  Instinctively he covered his nudity with his large feathers.  This movement of bewilderment caused the leaves above the two gentlemen to shake.  They both looked up into the dark tree.

“Did you hear that?” one said to the other.

“Holy hell, it sounded like a horse up there.  I hope it ain’t the cops.  You know how they like to hide in this park.” said the second man. 

The first man got closer to the second man and whispered, “It isn’t the cops, Baby.  Let’s take it over there to the bushes.” The second man had agreed as the first man grabbed the second man’s hand and led him to a patch of thick brush that served as a barrier to a patch of clear grass.  Someone on the ground below would never have known this little patch had even existed unless they had prior knowledge of it.  Up here in the trees anyone could see the hidden patch clearly. 

Marcus changed his position on the branch above the two men so he could get clear audience of their tryst.  He had heard about two guys making out – even thought about touching Dwayne Patterson’s privates at one point a few years back – but he’d never seen it in motion.  His homosexual voyeurism virginity was about to be popped. 

The BOOM boom in his head was getting louder and faster.  He was getting a hard on not because of the show about to take place below him, but because of the instinct to rip flesh and bathe in the blood.  That thought turned him on like no other.   The blood rushing through the intricate highway of veins in his naked body caused his own heart to beat its own fast rhythm.  Oh yes, he wanted this.  He wanted it bad.  But he had to wait.  The time wasn’t right. 

The first man stopped in the middle of the opening to kiss the second man with his open mouth.  He pulled the second guy into him so that he could successfully knead his ass cheeks beneath the thin jean coating.  Their heavy groins began grinding against the other as the passionate kiss heated up.  The tongues never broke from the other while fingers were fumbling and finding belt buckles and shirt buttons.  The first guy broke the kiss only to place his hand on the top of the second guy, pushing his secret lover down so that his face was directly in front of the first guy’s manhood.  The second guy took a moment to inhale the first man’s secret aroma of sweaty cock and balls.  From high above Marcus could smell the same scent the second man was inhaling.  BOOM boom. BOOM boom.  The second man opened his mouth to engulf the first man’s dick.  He swallowed it down to the root and didn’t move for a full five seconds.  Marcus could hear the second guy making satisfied muffles as the first man tilted his head back to let out a lust induced, “Oh FUCK yeah!”  The first guy accentuated the second word while he held the second guy’s head as he shoved his hips into his face.  BOOM boom.  BOOM boom.

The first guy retracted his groin from the second man’s face slowly before shoving his dick back into the second guy’s mouth.  He did this slowly.  From up in the tree, Marcus’s acute sense of sight could see the now spit-covered dick sliding in and out from between the lips of the hungry cock sucker.  This was all too much.  It wasn’t that he was in ecstasy from the act of sodomy being played out before him in his own little private staging area.  No.  It was a combination of the smell of blood racing in each of their hearts, the electricity of lust in the air and the liquids within his own body about to bust out of his skin to squirt all over the tree.  BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom.

The first guy pulled his dick out of the second guy’s hungry mouth so that he could stroke his own member and cover his secret lover’s face with his own private stash of love juice. Marcus stood up high on the branch where he was witnessing this encounter.  His wings flapped open loudly, but the two guys below didn’t hear them over their own symphony of, “give it to me, Stud,” and “oh fuck, I’m going to cum.” 

It was now or never.  Marcus jumped from his perch to grasp the first man’s shoulders with his talons and lift him high in the air.  Jizz flew all over the open air to splatter on the landing below.  None of the warm goo had hit its intended target.  The face of the second man looked up in a petrified glare as the first guy went flying straight up into the night sky.  Marcus used his talons to throw the first guy up so that he would now be facing Marcus in mid-air.  His spent cock was still dripping its liquid gift as Marcus grabbed his prey by the shoulders and bit into him.  The man was interrupting Marcus’s feeding process with his yelling and screams of emergency.  This didn’t stop Marcus from gulping in the rich blood.  He simply covered the man’s face with his left hand and detached the loud head from his warm naked body.  Without missing a beat, Marcus dropped the head to the ground below and kept guzzling the thick rich blood being offered to him from the now severed neck line. 

The second guy below screamed loudly when the first guy’s head bounced to the ground right beside him.  Still on his knees, the second guy reached around in the dark feeling for the gun he knew he had come equipped with, but had been tossed to the side at the beginning of this rendezvous.  He had found it.  He pointed into the early morning sky blindly while blood was raining down on his face.  He shot once and then waited for a second to acknowledge that his bullet had hit its target.  When he got no such acknowledgement he shot again.  This time he got a beheaded body being flung in his direction. 

Marcus could not believe that this cocksucker was shooting at him.  He smiled a bit at the irony of his choice of insults.  He flung the well drained first guy down at the man below.  Bingo.  He had hit him with the first shot.  The second man was down with the headless first guy on top of him.  I’m guessing this is not how these two thought their first date would go, thought Marcus as he flew down to land beside the remaining man currently alive in his prone position.  Marcus placed his left hand on the top of the guy’s head.  The man’s every thought flooded Marcus’s brain. 

Oh geez, all I wanted was to suck some dick.  I can’t BELIEVE this guy has phreaking wings.  Would you look how big they are? I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die!  No one knows where I am.  What if they don’t find my body for weeks?  How will they identify me? I’m going to fucking die!  My gawd this guy is beautiful.  I wonder if he wants his dick sucked.  Maybe he’ll let me go if I suck his dick.  No, no, NO!  Oh man, I’m going to die right here in this fucked up park.

Marcus broke the connection.  He couldn’t take this guy rambling on and on forever.  He looked directly at the guy with his lavender eyes and said, “No.  I don’t want my dick sucked.  Not today.  Not by you.  There’s nothing wrong with what you do.  I just want you to know that up front,”

“What ARE you?” asked the guy who was now in a state of panic while his former partner’s disconnected body lay on top of him and his vacant eyes looking at them both from a few feet away with a blank, dead stare. 

“I am somewhat of an accident.  Or, maybe it was on purpose.  I haven’t figured that out yet,” Marcus began explaining himself to this man he doesn’t know.  He never talked to anyone about himself before.  Every conversation he’d ever had with anyone was usually about them.  No one focused on Marcus in regard to how he felt or what he thought.  This was a foreign exchange to him.  He was going to use it.  He was going to confess his sins to this stranger lying on the grass in the early morning miles away from his home and even further from his destination. 

The man noticed a black mist covering the ground.  It was a fog, but wasn’t.  This wasn’t like any fog he’d ever seen.  He could hear whispers.  It was like a hundred men whispering all at the same time but saying the same exact thing at different intervals, like an echo, or a creepy version of “Row, row, row your boat”.  The black mist had crawled over his body and the body of his former lover.  He couldn’t make out what the mist was whispering.  He noticed it stopped whispering when it reached the disconnected head of the first man.  The mist had now completely covered the skull so that the second man could no longer see even the shape of the severed head.  It only took a few seconds before the mist wisped away leaving a  stripped skull in its wake.  The black fog completed devoured the meat only to leave the bones. 

The man panicked.  He pushed the first man’s torso off of him and jumped up faster than any man Marcus had ever seen.  He turned to run yet somehow forgotten that his jeans had been a pool around his ankles from when he was whacking off to slurping on the other man’s torpedo.  He tripped right into Marcus who had caught him by the arms.  Marcus’s Shroud was instantly upon the man, travelling up his legs.

“Oh, Jesus!!  Take me……..AHHHHH!!” screamed the man.

“The name is Marcus,” said Marcus as he looked the man in the face.  Marcus opened his wings to their fullest extent.  He used his lavender eyes to calm the man and then said, “I thought you’d never ask,” and then bit down on top of the man’s head with a hard crunch.  Blood had gushed in every direction.  Marcus seemed to have gotten the most of it before he pierced his hand through the man’s chest to retrieve his heart.  The Shroud can have the rest of the meat on these two bodies, but this heart belongs to me.  He worked hard for it tonight.  He was going to take his time eating it.  He then dropped the expired body to the ground.  The Shroud had covered both of the bodies to strip the bones clean of their nourishment.  Marcus flew back up to the perch he had previously been on to enjoy the fruit of his labor.  He smiled at that expression as he ate the second man’s heart like an apple. 

When he finished with his meal, he looked to the East.  The sun was peeking over the horizon.  The rays were brilliantly white.  He had to shield his eyes from them so that he could see how beautiful the colors were.  Morning reds, greens, blue and hues of yellow were announcing the arrival of the ball of light.  He noticed his hand beginning to smoke, and then sizzle and then sharp pains consumed his arm.  Was the blood he drank poisoned somehow?  Was drinking gay blood harmful to his health?  This was only the third time he’d drank blood like this.  The previous times didn’t affect him in this way.  Then he thought, the other times were at night.  There was no sun.  No daylight.  The sun is burning me!  Why the hell is the sun burning me? 

Before he could analyze the who, hows and whys of what was happening to him, he had decided he needed a place to hide from the sun.

 

The sun in the sky of older days

Is a painful reminder of ancient ways.

Seek seclusion out of light,

Wait for the kiss of the moon at night.

You’ll find solace among the gloom.

Hurry, now, before you meet your doom.

There was that female voice filling his head again.  It was the same voice he had encountered at the pyramids in Egypt.  She said the poem so fast.  He knew it had the answers he was looking for, but it was hard to concentrate on her little diddy while his body was about to burst into flames.  Just then his Shroud rushed up to meet him in the tree.  It was silently leading him to the cemetery a few hundred yards away.  Oh, right!  Gloom.  There’s nowhere gloomier than a cemetery.  Marcus thought as he flew below the trees across the vacant park.  He didn’t care if anyone saw him.  His priority was sanctuary.  He flew out of the park across a grassy field to the gates of the cemetery.  The gates were locked.  He shook the gates as if that would magically open them.  Then he remembered…wings.  He could fly!  He mentally beat himself over the head for being an idiot as he floated to the first and nearest mausoleum.  He slid into the tiny hole in the wall that was holding the remains of an Iliana Clarkson who had died in 1953.  Move over Iliana, you’ve got company, he thought as he slid to lay down in the dark beside her.  He immediately fell into a deep sleep as the sun was making its grand entrance of this brand new day.



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