Seven Days

Day Two -- Part One

Hi guys. Here's another chapter. I got quite good feedback for the first one, so thanks for that. Please let me know how this one went down! Oh, and by the way, this story is the property of me, myself and I and NOBODY else. Muhahahaha!

Enjoy, and mail me at to lend your thoughts. Any suggestions are also welcome as to the storyline, spelling or grammar.


`You will die in six days.' Wow, this guy was a real conversationalist. He had made his way over to where I was sitting at the bar around thirty minutes ago, and in all that time that was all he had said. This guy really perplexed me. I was getting quite dizzy from the whisky (duh, that's the goddamn point), which naturally made me a bit paranoid.

`Look,' I said, breaking the tense silence. `Just tell me what the fuck you are stalking me for and get outta my fucking life. I have enough shit on my plate without some weird ass dressed like a pubescent cherub hounding me all the time.' Yeah, I get rude when I'm nervous. And nervous I definitely was! Who knows what this guy wanted from me?

He smiled at me. He actually had the nerve to smile. But it wasn't a mocking smile, I realized. It was a wan, sad smile that seemed to convey more meaning than what a smile is usually capable of. It spoke of troubles and joys, misery and elation. I snorted. Great, the whiskey was really going to my fucking head. Better slow down before I start seeing wings sprout out of his back.

`I will see you tomorrow.' His voice was soft, light, melodious, without any strange accent or inflection. If I had to liken his voice to anyone else's, it would be my gram's. His voice didn't sound like hers per se, but it had a calming, familiar quality about it that I have only ever been previously able to find in her voice.

His smile faltered. `Tomorrow you will see that I am not joking... Liam'. He whispered my name. I recoiled in shock. Nobody, nobody at all, knew my real name. Everyone knew me as Scotty. There was no way in hell that this... this being could get it from somebody else. Every person who had previously known me by that name was long dead by now.

But before I could recollect myself and ask him how he came upon my name, he disappeared again. I didn't witness it like I did the last time, but I could still see a minor disturbance in the way the light fell across the chair where he had sat. Then that too was gone.

I decided that it would probably be for the best if I called it a night and headed home. Pfft, if home is what you could call it -- a bare room with only a mattress about as thick as a slice of pizza on cold tiles didn't really qualify as a homey environment, now did it? At least it was somewhere under a roof, though. I could still recall when I had to sleep in a park underneath a clump of bushes not that long ago. But thinking about it, I wondered if I would go back to that time in my life if I had the power to turn back the clock.

Sure, I was even less well-off than I am now, but at least then I still held the one thing that really mattered in life -- my dignity. But shelter had to be sought and money had to be made and that, of course, led to tricks being turned. I think my first time was the worst. It wasn't a particularly bad-looking fellow. In fact, he looked quite presentable. In bed, though, he was an absolute monster. Pain was the only thing I held over from that "meeting". That, and enough money to buy a bowl of food at Stationeers.

I got up from the bar and said goodbye to Mama, warding off her incessant questions about the strange... being (I did not know what else to call him) before walking down the road to my hell hole. For once, I relished the feeling of going home -- going to a bed. I felt strangely tired for that time of the evening. Usually I only fall asleep at around four in the am, and it wasn't even half past one yet. With each step I tired more, and soon I was just putting one foot in front of the other.

As I got to the building in which my rented room is situated an even deeper weariness stole over me -- weariness like I have never experienced before. I battled to get up the first steps, and literally had to crawl up the last two or three flights. I fell into the room. I barely made it to the bed before I passed out.


And here we are, the end of the second chapter. It was short, wasn't it? Yeah, you can expect all the chapters to be of similar length. I write much easier when I write that way, and I don't plan for this story to become a huge epic. Lemme just explan how it'll work. "Day 1" stands totally on its own, while "Day 2" to "Day 7" will have more than one part to them, possibly three to four apiece. I won't post each "Day" only when it's complete, but rather each part as it becomes available. The reason? Heh, because I just looooooooooooove your feedback so much!

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Oh, and check this out : It's a website I'm currently working on to be launched on 1 June 2010. It only hosts gay speculative fiction. Since it's still a work in progress, some of the links might not work yet.

Hugs to you guys!