The sheriff was an older man, gone gray, but probably early. He had a 'Sam Elliott' type of moustache, and was wearing what looked like a cowboy hat, but with the sheriff's symbol right in the front. He stood up right away when he saw us approaching, and his forehead wrinkled slightly, not expecting to see ten teenagers headed in his direction all of a sudden. "You kids know anything about the driver of this vehicle?" His voice was deep, with a bit of a Southern accent, but not over done.
"I'm the driver of the vehicle." Cyrus replied, looking the man directly in the eye as he assessed the possible threat of the situation. "Is there a problem?"
The man looked us over, and asked, "Do you have a driver's license, son?"
Cyrus smiled warmly. "You know...I'm afraid that I just didn't bring it with me today. Coming into tow was sort of a 'spur of the moment' decision"
"Really now?" He said. "I see. So...you're saying that...this is your truck. Am I right?"
I watched as Shank and Razor took an almost 'attack like' formation on both ends of our spread. Readying themselves for almost anything. "Actually, if you must know...the truck belongs to my uncle." Cyrus could tell a lie without flinching. Without dimming the glimmer in his wicked grin. Sometimes it made you feel so strong to be in allegiance with one so flawless.
"Your...uncle, you say?" The sheriff asked, still taking little looks at the truck out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes. Sad situation, in fact. He has a bit of a thirst for the alcohol, you know? Can't leave the stuff alone. And he got a little bit carried away this morning, so I had to drive him to my grandfather's house." His deceit was immaculate, for someone who was just making it up as he went along. "We just dropped him off not long ago, and I have to drive back home by myself. No license. I certainly hope we're not in any trouble."
"Trouble? No...I wouldn't say that just yet." He answered, and then he took a close look at me. I had nothing to fear from his wandering eyes, especially with the pack mentality running through me like a freight train. But John Boy made sure to step in front of me, and lightly nudge me to take a step or two back behind the others. No doubt, if he was the sheriff, and word had gotten out about me 'missing' from camp...they'd still be looking for me. Having him recognize my face would be a bad idea.
The man looked back at the vehicle, and inspected some of the dents in the side and in the back bumper. Cyrus spoke up again, a bit louder this time to keep his mind off of his...'investigation'. "Is there something wrong with the TRUCK...officer?"
The sheriff looked back up at us, a suspicion rising up in his eyes. "Maybe." He said. "You see...seems that another truck, just like this one here, belonged to a nice couple called the Weatherby's. Live about 15 to 20 miles East of these parts. Sweet people, from what I've heard. Two kids, involved in the community, attend church regularly. And then one day...'poof'. It's like they just fell off of the radar. A couple of people have expressed some concern, especially when they didn't show up for the farmer's market this Summer. It's not like them to go missing for this long."
The sheriff looked back a me as I walked behind the rest of the pack. They stood as a shield to protect me from him getting a good look at me. But I was practically pacing with agitation at this point. I didn't need protection. If this sheriff wants to make a jump, I'm ready for it.
"That's my Uncle. Now you see him, now you don't." Cyrus replied, just as cool as he was before.
"So...Mr. Weatherby is your uncle?" He asked the question, but it didn't sound like he was going to be buying the answers.
Funny thing is, Cyrus already knew that, but continued the 'surface talk' as if he was daring the officer to prove him wrong. "Most definitely. I only visit during the Summers, but we usually have so much fun. Until the drinking, that is."
Kriegar stood beside him, bottle still in hand. "Yeah, terrible thing, drinking. Filthy habit." And he took another swig right in front of him.
The officer, suspicious as he was of our behavior, also seemed to be a little bit nervous. Something about us...something about Cyrus...caused him to tense up considerably. As if he were preparing himself for something bad. Some kind of foul action that would cause him to defend himself if necessary.
He examined the truck a little closer, still talking to our father while he did so. "You know...not more than a week ago...there were some rather 'heated' complaints about a bunch of local teens riding around town, causing a bit of a ruckus. Just in the next county, but close enough to where they could just...'drive' on over here instead if they really wanted to." He stared back at Cyrus. "You boys wouldn't know nothing about that, would ya?"
"Not at all, sir." Cyrus took a step forward, and we all took a step or two forward ourselves as he watched the sheriff walk around to the other side of the truck. "We're hardly the type of people who would involve themselves with any kind of random delinquent acts. We're just a bunch of innocent kids, doing a little clothes shopping on our way back from doing a good deed for my uncle. Nothing more."
"Heh...innocent kids? Funny, I thought they stopped making those in the late 80's." The sheriff gave us a faked smile, but it was obvious that he was watching us, like a hawk. Just as obvious as it was that we were watching him too. Then his face got serious, and he asked, "So, what about your aunt?"
"Mrs. Weatherby? Your uncle has been drinking himself silly...where is she in all this?"
Cyrus smiled as he was sure the officer was only playing this game to further enhance the lies he had already been told. So our leader obliged him "She left, actually. Went to live with her sister out of town. They've been having some marital issues as of late. She left, took the kids, my uncle took to drinking in order to deal with it. It's as simple as that."
"Indeed it is. But...they're family. I love them just the same." Cyrus' grin grew even wider, and the rest of us were given the order to 'stand down' and hold our positions.
"Right." The officer said, and looked over at the rest of us.
"I don't mean to 'rush', sir...but if you don't mind, my friends and I really should be getting home. Especially since I'm not riding with a license and all. I hope we didn't cause you any unnecessary trouble." Cyrus told him. The sheriff scanned our little group for a moment or two, mentally placing us all in his memory, I'm sure. "Unless of course you have some sort of reason to keep us here any longer, that is."
Then, unable to really 'prove' anything at the moment, and no real authority to search our truck without some real evidence as to why he should...he waved the offense of Cyrus not having a license and stepped aside. Something I guess is a little more common in small rural towns like this than in bigger ones. In the city, you would have been hauled off to jail in a heartbeat. "Don't let me keep you. You just make sure you drive straight home from here and get off these roads. If I catch you without your license again, I'm gonna have to make things a lot more difficult for the lot of you. You understand?" Cyrus nodded with a smile, and with just a motion of his hand, he commanded us all to stand in a tighter circle around him. The officer started to walk away, but decided instead to ask him, "By the way...any idea when your aunt might be coming back? Maybe to pick up some of her stuff? Seems she took a few of her dresses to the cleaners somewhere in town. They've been sitting there for the better part of a year now. She hasn't so much as called to claim 'em. Which I think is pretty darn odd."
Cyrus smirked and replied, "Not really. I doubt she'll be back any time soon. The kids either. You should have seen them when they left...they were literally 'falling to pieces'."
I think the last few words, mixed with Cyrus' constantly intimidating presence created a slight chill in him. Even if he didn't follow his hunches at that particular moment, he'd definitely be checking us out more in the future. That's one thing about cops...they just don't know how to leave something alone until their paranoia is satisfied. "You kids be safe." He said.
"Oh...you have no idea just how 'safe' we really are, officer." Cyrus replied, and we all stood in unison as we watched him limb into his car and then drive away. The police car could hardly get out of sight before Father began to consult his council, confirming what he already knew. "Kristin? Your thoughts?"
"Nothing about his visit was accidental, Father. He was spying on us. I'm thinking he was sent to spy on us." She answered.
"He's definitely had contact. Within the last 48 hours, for sure. He showered twice to hide the scent from us. No doubt taking advice from our little 'observer' on the other side of the lake. But he wasn't thorough enough. His scent is still on him. Especially in the hair." John Boy told him "He's still watching us, Father. And he's seeking help."
Kriegar chipped in, throwing his now empty bottle to the ground. "Ah, fuck that. I can't smell nothing!"
"*I* can." John boy said softly.
Cyrus took in the evidence, and then consulted Sebastian, who was waiting patiently by his side to speak. "He is becoming a problem, Father. I ask that you don't wait too long. This chase must come to an end eventually."
"Let ME do it!" Kriegar growled. "Come on, Cyrus...just let me BODY BAG this fucking nuisance and get it over with! We should have taken care of him years ago!"
"No." Cyrus told him.
"But the threat of having him out there...plotting all the time...he WON'T let the shit go!" Kriegar asked, but Cyrus denied him. "Well let me just rip off an arm or two! Fuck!"
Cyrus stepped closer, and I saw Kriegar back down, controlling his temper and tone of voice, to lower his head in Father's presence. "I don't want you in on this, because I can't afford to have this done sloppily. This requires something a lot more surgical. And as much as I love you, my brother...that is not your strong point. It is not why you're a part of this pack. I have much dirtier work for you to attend to, and when the time comes, you will get your chance. That I promise you." He turned to Sebastian and John Boy. "However, I will agree that time is getting short And our last few warnings didn't seem to deter him from making any more trouble. So...we'll begin setting things into motion once the dark moon has passed. I want him dead by the next full moon. And if our 'sheriff' friend shows his face anywhere near us again, I want him put in the ground right beside him." He turned to wink at me, and said, "Maybe we'll toss him in the basement...and let Dex have some fun with him. He's been looking to let loose for a while, anyway."
"Are you sure there's no way that he won't locate us before then? He's been doing his homework. His movements are getting more bold all the time." Kristin asked.
"He mocks us, Father." Scout said softly, hugging up to Cyrus' side.
I saw a slightly conflicted look in Cyrus' eyes. I recognized it instantly, because it's not something we see often. Or EVER for that matter. But he was quick to shake it off, and answered, "I can't believe it's come to this at long last. I'll truly miss this game." He told us, "He doesn't stand a chance of getting any help. Not from the town, not from the police, not from anyone. To them, he's just a crazy old man, babbling about monsters and creatures of the night. They'll lock him away in a mental institution before they take the time to consider us a reality. And that is our greatest ally for the time being. Knowing that he is still...all alone. And since he doesn't seem to have the common decency to let us be...I suggest he cherish these last few days of his existence. It's time we stop looking over our shoulders."
Scout smiled up at him and hugged him tight. Shank and Razor seemed to be extremely pleased with this idea. Even John Boy smiled to himself as he climbed onto the back of the truck. I began to wonder if there would ever be a time when I'd be able to ask questions and actually get answers from the others. Answers that would take some of the mystery out of their dealings with me. But the longer I spent time with them, the less answer I needed. It was more a matter of 'listen and obey'...which seems like it would make me feel more trapped and 'bullied' than ever before. But it didn't. The indescribable comfort of it came from the fact that Cyrus really didn't ask all that much of any of us. At least it didn't appear that way. He took care of us, and we repaid him by standing at his side. Outside of that small effort...the world was ours. No questions, no limitation, no regrets. And every time I felt as though I had finally settled into this new liberation, I found small pockets that would allow me to fall just a little bit further. And I have to say...the darker side of life can be sooooo alluring when you've been avoiding it for so long.
We got on the truck, and Kriegar gave me a playful shove as I walked towards my usual seat on the old tire. It was hardly anything to take seriously...but as Dexter climbed on the back of the truck behind me, he barked VICIOUSLY at Kriegar for putting his hands on me! I turned around just in time to see Dex growling directly in front of his face...fangs down, salivating, eyes nearly glowing dark red with anger. I think even 'Kriegar' was caught off guard by Dex's sudden snapping, and everyone else in the truck turned to look.
It was John Boy, ever vigilant in controlling the attitudes and interactions of the others, that spoke first. "Dexter...mind your manners." Dex didn't pay attention at first. In fact, he growled even louder. And Kriegar began to challenge him with a deep guttural growl of his own. The confrontation had popped up so swiftly that it was impossible to predict where this was going to go. Both boys looked ready to seriously rip into each other with a vengeance at any moment. Kriegar's already unstable temper was building fast, and he was much bigger than Dex was. MUCH more intimidating, and stronger...with a level of violence and ferocity that I hadn't even BEGUN to see the limits of yet. But Dex didn't back down. Never once, not an inch. He didn't even blink when Kriegar rose to his feet...towering almost a full head over him. "Dex?" John Boy said again, still calm, but obviously insistent on getting Dexter's attention When Dex's head snapped around, John Boy nodded his head, signaling him to behave. "Who are we without the company of our brothers, Dex?" He asked, and that seemed to somehow break Dexter's fever over causing a scene. "Remember?" He asked again. "Who ARE we without the company of our brothers?"
Dex lowered his head for a moment, and pouted a bit. Sticking out his cute little bottom lip a bit as he replied. "We are one. Without the company of our brothers...we are none." He sounded as if he were repeating the creed from out of a hidden werewolf 'textbook' or something. But it certainly did the trick, because Dex's face and near transformation calmed itself instantly, and he snubbed Kriegar as he came to sit down quietly beside me.
"When are we gonna put a leash on this crazy fuck? Huh?" Kriegar asked.
"I'm NOT crazy. How many times...am I going to have to tell you...I'm NOT fucking crazy?" Dex snarled through gritted teeth. I could feel his whole body tensing up beside me, and I had to hold him close to keep him calm.
"Are you all seeing this? The son of a bitch has gone all 'la la' over this kid, and now he's ready to take a fucking bite out of me for little of nothing!" Kriegar complained. "Are we gonna get control of this freak, or what?"
"You're being MEAN to me...." Dex was gritting his teeth together so hard that I thought they would crack at any moment. I don't think I had ever seen him so agitated. "...STOP it!"
"Shhhh....it's ok, dude." I said softly, and placed a kiss on his forehead. I didn't know what else to do. He was literally 'shaking' with rage at this point.
"This is fucking nuts! It's basement time for this kid again!"
"I'm not going back in that basement! I don't LIKE the basement!"
"FUCK what you like!"
"Fuck what *YOU* like, Kriegar!!!!" Dex shouted, getting ready to get up again, and I had to hold him in place by pressing his head into my chest. They were preparing for an all out WAR right there in the back of the truck! I had seen little flare ups between Dex and Kriegar before, but nothing like this. And neither one of them was 'sane' enough to know when to stop pushing the other. Not until we all suddenly got a very strong mental message from the driver's seat of the truck.
It was like the earsplitting squeal of microphone feedback, ringing in our thoughts, causing us all to grab both sides of our head as the overload of energy threatened to send us into a fit of seizures if we didn't get our acts together. And NOW! Cyrus was the center of everything...and while he made no attempts to 'control'...he could definitely 'punish'! And 'punish' he did!
Even those of us who weren't involved in the conflict, John Boy, the twins, Kristin and Sebastian and Scout up front...they all felt the pain of it at once, and Cyrus commanded us to behave. He wouldn't tolerate any more scuffles at all, and everyone settled into position with no further instigation. Our eyes were bloodshot from the intense migraine that shot through us like a laser...and it took a few minutes before Dex cuddled up beside me and buried his face in the nape of my neck.
I couldn't get Cyrus' warning out of my mind from this morning, and Dex was definitely becoming more and more attached by the second. Soon, even our own family members will be able to touch me without him taking an aggressive position to shield me from them. But to be honest...I was a little scared to let him go. The more he depended on me, the more I worried about what he'd do if I distanced myself from him the way the others did. Maybe....when the full moon was back, and he was his natural giggly self again...I'll kind take a few steps back and get him to deal with it. Until then, I just need to keep him balanced enough to keep from being..well...dangerous.
The truck remained pretty silent on the way home, and getting back to the old house was a relief. For some reason, I was already getting hungry again. And as soon as we walked in through the front door, I could almost smell and taste the scent of blood from the rinsed off plate that John Boy had put in the sink earlier. I didn't ask for permission, or tell anyone what I was doing. I just made a beeline for the kitchen, and opened the fridge to grab a few big handfuls of meat and slap them down onto another plate. While it had disgusted me so much this morning, my mind was constantly switching itself over to a whole new set of rules. Rules that operated more on my instant gratification and physical needs than on any type of 'moral compass'. And when I brought the plate back into the living room with the others and sat down to stuff my mouth with it...Cyrus gave me an approving smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room.
"You sure you don't want any of the spices or seasonings we bought, Wes?" He asked me. "It's not usual that a puppy like yourself takes to the taste so quickly."
"Unh-unh..." I mumbled, unable to get the meat into my mouth fast enough. My fingers kept going back down to the plate for more. My teeth were biting into it so...so hard. My mouth was salivating to the point where I could hardly keep from having it drool down my chin...and the grunts and growls I was making were so involuntary that I would sometimes look up to see what the noise was...not even realizing that it was me. My breath was picking up speed, and my body temperature rose considerably. God..it was sooo good! I needed more. MORE!
I noticed John Boy watching me as I used my finger to clean up every last beef fragment that I could from that plate. Even sopping up some 'blood gravy', trying hard to resist actually licking the plate itself. He smiled, his boyish grin presented with such beauty. I was a little embarrassed by my own actions, and put the plate down on the table in front of me. "Sorry...I was just...a little hungry. That's all."
"No need to apologize. We want our young one to be fed." He replied.
"It's just...hehehe, it was really good. I don't know why."
"I do." He replied. "But if you think that's something...wait until you get a better taste of it...when it's warm."
Sebastian came and sat down on the arm of the couch on other side of me, and leaned back against the wall. His legs were spread slightly, and without really thinking about it, I leaned over and rested my head on his thigh, rubbing the inside of it softly with the palm of my hand. Not for 'arousal', I don't think. It was just this sudden display of affection for him that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was this 'connection' that we shared that was swiftly eliminating our need for secrets, and bringing us together through our ever strengthening bond. Feeling more comfortable, I swiveled around a bit, putting one of my feet up in John Boy's lap. I could feel him removing my shoe, and allowing my foot to rub his crotch area while he ran his hands tenderly up and down...from my calf, to the the tip of my toes, and back again. I had never felt so relaxed before in my life.
"So...you said something about us going out tonight?" I asked Cyrus, who had Scout standing behind his chair, playing with our leader's blond hair, running his fingers through it slowly again and again. "Where are we going?"
Cyrus had a demonic gleam in his eye, and asked me, "Do you know what 'Rumspringa' is?"
"Is that, like...a drink or something?" I asked, and heard Shank and Razor chuckle to themselves from the corner. Evidently, I wasn't even close.
"Not quite." Cyrus grinned. "You see, in many places, here in the Midwest especially, there is a celebration that takes place pretty much year round called 'Rumspringa'. It's sort of a...religious right of passage for the Amish. That's where we're going. Just to see what we can see."
"Riiiiiight..." I said sarcastically with a gentle roll of my eyes.
"Penny for your thoughts, Wesley?"
"Well...I mean...come on. I thought you said something about an actual party. Somehow, hanging out with the Amish doesn't sound very..'festive'. What are we gonna do? Have a nude butter churning contest?" I asked, and the others laughed again.
"Sebastian? You want to handle this one?" Cyrus asked, and Sebastian made sure to clarify.
"The Amish belief system is based upon the idea that one would have to actually be an adult in order to truly choose Christ and a life in the church. As opposed to baptizing babies and practically forcing them into it from birth. You following me?" He said, and I nodded. "Now..when an Amish boy or girl turns 16 years old, they're permitted to leave their Amish settlements, go out into the real world for an extended amount of time, and enjoy and experience all of the delicious sin and temptation that the devil has to offer. Sometimes they stay out here for a few months, sometimes for a few years. Then they have to make the decision on whether or not they want to go back and join the church. Umm....FOREVER." Sebastian said. "I realize that the idea of the Amish may have gotten a bit of a bad rap, with the horse drawn buggies and all. But, believe me...this is NO 'butter churning' contest. We're talking hundreds upon hundreds of 16 year old Amish virgins, an endless supply of drugs and alcohol, no police interference whatsoever due to the fact that these parties happen on private properties...and hordes of untapped, completely innocent, religiously bound, sexually frustrated minds, that are looking to smother themselves in as much lust and wickedness as humanly possible before going back to live as a saint for the rest of their natural lives." With that Sebastian leaned back again and smirked. "Does THAT sound like more of a party to you? Or would you rather stay here and rent a video instead?"
My eyes widened, and I looked over at Cyrus. "Is he for real?"
Cyrus nodded calmly, and smiled as he saw my excitement begin to build. And the twins chimed in to say, "Amish boys are SO hot!"
"Unbelievably hot, you have no idea!"
Cyrus said, "I need you to join us tonight, Wesley. There's still much that you need to learn. Things of importance. And an event like this is the perfect place to do it." He told me. "You need to know how to focus your senses, how to read and manipulate emotions, how to make your desires...their desires. You still have barriers left to be broken. If you're going to fall from grace...you have to fall all the way." But it was then that Cyrus added, "Besides, you have to learn how to spot our own kind in a crowd."
My ears perked up instantly. "The others. John Boy said...I mean...there are more of us out there? Wolves, I mean?"
A giggle traveled throughout the room, and John Boy answered, "What? Did you really think we were the only ones?"
Cyrus said, "Our kind have been roaming the Earth since mankind first began to deceive itself into thinking it was 'civilized'. We're the blueprint for every man, woman, and child, on the planet. The basic primal form that they try to hide when they look themselves in the mirror every morning."
"How many more are there?" I asked.
"We're a species, Wesley. Asking that is like asking how many gay people there are in the world. The answer is...a lot." Cyrus said. "And the more the world attempts to evolve and deny its natural instincts...it's passions, it's greed, it's anger...the more our numbers will grow. We're entering a new age, where everyone is being watched. Everybody is being marketed to. Everyone is a slave without chains, wandering around on someone else's playground. The entire globe is either owned by the corporations, the religious right, or the politicians. Money, God, and Government..there's hardly any freedom left for anyone to have."
I was confused. "But...what does that have to do with us?"
"As the control gets tighter and tighter, as freedoms become more limited, people find themselves having to push harder and harder to 'fit in' to the mold that's being dictated to them. The same as you once did. And they are getting very angry." He smiled. "You see, our kind is the natural breakdown of this bullshit system. We are the leftover numbers from an unbalanced equation. Nature's original rebel. The harder they push for control, the more chaos they create in the process. At the end of the day, mankind wasn't meant to be tamed. As thinking, feeling, beings with a sense of self, we should be the wildest animals of them all. And there are many who are beginning to realize that."
Kristin offered a bit more. "What Father is trying to say is...there are more people wanting to be like us than there are wanting to stick to the old routine. We're finding more auras now than ever before. Strong ones, like yours. The pressure cooker is boiling over, and there are new packs popping up all the time. In every race and culture in the world. People feel cheated. Suffocated. They're tired of being caught in a stranglehold and being told what they can and can't have by some faceless enemy, making decisions for them behind closed doors."
"If you ask me, the whole damn planet needs a Rumspringa vacation to figure out what the fuck it wants to do with itself." Kriegar said while sipping out of a beer can.
"Auras...?" I whispered to myself, thinking back. "Like Dallas? The boy on the beach at Rainbow's End?"
Cyrus nodded. "Yes...just like him. You see, in society's eyes, he would be a 'defect' in their almost foolproof system. The illusion of freedom has become such a blatant lie that it's getting much easier for people to see the walls of their own prison. Some of us, have the potential to break free of the deception. That inner struggle, that spiritual need for release...that is the essence that you see. Those are the bonds that we seek. The more energy that we can add to our circle without going 'overboard'...the stronger our union becomes. And nowadays that hidden struggle seems to be showing up everywhere."
I don't know why...but my thoughts lingered on Dallas for a moment or two I thought back to seeing his smile that night on the beach, lit up by the flickering light of the bonfire. And somehow, that seemed to be attached to a bunch of other memories that seemed....so distant to me. Hazy and confusing...quick images of Kyla flashed through my head. My family. And Casey. I was almost locked in, until I heard John Boy clear his throat. "Ahem...are we feeling alright, Wesley?" I looked up, and saw him still rubbing my foot and ankle. I was still leaning against Sebastian's leg. And I wondered how long I had been staring off into space.
"Yeah. I'm fine." I said, feeling the memories sink back into the dark swamp of my mind before they even resurfaced fully.
"Good. Because we have a party to go to." Cyrus smirked, and stood up out of his chair. "We leave in half an hour."
"Sweet!" Kriegar said. "That's just enough time for me to get some heavy BANGING in before we go!" He got up, and walked over to Kristin to lustfully grab a big handful of her ass and squeeze it hard through her jeans. "What do ya say, Princess? You feel like stepping up from the 'little boys' for a while, and dealing with a full size cock for a change?"
"Whoever said you were 'full size', lover boy?" She grinned, and Kriegar kissed her deeply on the mouth in the center of the living room.
"You know...you smacked me pretty hard today. Kinda turned me on."
"Did it now? Is this your idea of turning the other cheek?"
"I'll turn any cheek you WANT in your direction, as long as you slap it with that fire, baby doll." Kriegar grinned.
"ENOUGH already. Go." Sebastian said, making a 'bad medicine' face at their back and forth conversation.
"Don't get jealous just because you're too girly to handle me, Sebastian." He leaned over and gave Sebastian a quick, but hard, kiss on the lips before taking Kristin by the hand and leading her to the stairs. "Come on, let me see that fat ass in motion!"
"I'm NOT fat!!!" She said, and Kriegar gave a playful growl as he chased her up the steps to pick a room for them to....uhhh...get busy in.
Cyrus giggled to himself and said, "They are going to get pretty loud in a few seconds. Dexter, why don't you turn some music on before the bed frame starts pounding the floor?"
There was no answer at first. And when I looked over to see why he hadn't responded, Dex was sitting on the floor by the stereo...watching me. Dead silent, with no expression on his face whatsoever. And when I looked down, I saw him using his bladed cross to slice a small slit in the top of his arm, about 5 inches long. He'd cut it without even looking at it, some blood would run out as he dragged the sharpened blade through his flesh, and then he would wait a few moments for his healing factor to kick in and close the wound again. Then...he'd repeat the process from start to finish. It was then that I noticed myself leaning against Sebastian's thigh...touching him intimately. And with John Boy tenderly rubbing my foot in his lap. I don't think he liked that one bit. He didn't want to share..not at all.
I sat up straight and untangled myself from the other two. Just as Cyrus asked him again. "Dex?"
"Huh?" He answered.
"Oh yeah, right. Silly." He said, and leaned over to get the tunes bumping out of the speakers. Then he got up and went into the kitchen. He didn't seem....mad, really. Just not happy, I suppose. Either way, he's deteriorating faster and faster all the time.
It was only a minute or two before the sound of moaning and shouting started flooding the upstairs bedroom, and the ceiling started thump as it sounded like Kriegar and Kristin were literally making the whole bed jump! John Boy, Sebastian, and I held it back for as long as we could, and then all started to laugh at the noise they were making. Damn...I can't even imagine what they're doing...but it must be pretty hot.
So...a half hour away, huh? Partying with the Amish. I never thought I'd see the day. Should be....and 'interesting' experience.