Date: Thu, 29 Mar 2007 12:39:48 +0200 From: A.K. Subject: Chronicles of a Destiny 5/9 (Young Fiends) ---------------------------- CHRONICLES OF A DESTINY by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2007 written on November 1, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by John ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "CHRONICLES OF A DESTINY" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- FIFTH PART 1982 - October Damiano came with the clean clothes. "Now Giampaolo, I'll take off your dirty clothes, then you wash yourself, then I'll put these clean ones on you..." "I'll take them off by myself." "As you like." "You tried it again, eh?" Giamapolo said. "Yes. I like you..." Damiano answered. Giampaolo took off his trousers and underpants. Then he slipped the shirt off his free arm. Damiano handcuffed his free wrist and opened the other cuff and finished taking off the shirt. And looked at him. "You're beautiful." he said simply. He went to open the door. "Go, wash yourself." Outside, between the door and the gate, there was a jerry-can, a basin, the sponge and the soap. Giampaolo, making the chain tying him to the bed tinkle, went to the passage and washed himself, aware of Damiano's glances. When he was finished, Damiano handed him the towel. Giampaolo went near the bed again where the clean clothes were. "You bought them new..." "Yes, at the market of another village." "I thought you brought me yours." "No. You could be annoyed wearing those of another person." "At times you know how to be sensitive." "I don't feel amused to make you feel bad." "Not you, it's true." "Why, the others do?" "Possibly not. I don't exist. They don't see me, just a pile of money... you see what I mean?" "Yes, I see." "You treat me differently." "You too are a soul." They became silent, looking at each other. "Don't you want to get dressed?" "In a while. I feel good, like this, after so much time. I feel like breathing, at last. Does it bother you?" "No, on the contrary..." "Anyway, at this point, you already saw me naked, didn't you?" "Yes..." "But... do you like men?" "There was a boy at my village, a faggot. He liked taking it from me..." "And you liked it?" "Sure." "Did you ever had a girlfriend?" "No, never. I'm not interested in..." Giampaolo felt he was becoming aroused, so turned towards the bed and started to get dressed. "You have a nice little ass..." Damiano said before he covered it. Giampaolo kept silent. When he was dressed again, he asked if he could sit on the free chair near the table. Damiano said yes with a nod of his head. "Can you switch on your radio?" Giampaolo asked. Damiano took his small transistor and switched it on, at a low volume, tuning it on a station broadcasting music. "Thank you, Rat." "Do you feel better, with clean clothes?" "A lot better." "Tell me about your life. Do you want to?" "What do you want to know?" "Everything." Giampaolo started to tell - so, at least, time was passing. +++++++++++++++ 1982 - November Giampaolo dried himself and went near the bed, where the clean clothes were. "These are new too..." he noticed. "Of course. I have to destroy the dirty ones." "Why? Wouldn't it be sufficient to wash them?" "Orders. They could be recognized." Damiano said laconically. "Did you choose them, Rat?" "Sure." "You have good taste." "Thank you." "How many months might we be shut in here?" "Who knows... They still haven't reached an agreement." "The bigger one... the one who took your place on Friday... he hates me." "No. It's his character. Only he exists in the world." "He always calls me faggot." "Well... aren't you?" "Yes, but..." "No, you're not a faggot. You're a gay, as now they say. Aren't you?" "But what's the difference?" "A faggot only takes it in his ass. He's a half-woman, even though at times it doesn't seem so. But you take it and put it, right? So you told me. And those like you are called gay, aren't they?" "That could be. And you, what are you?" "A male. I just put it. Get dressed again. Come on, with all this talk you're getting a hard-on." Damiano giggled. Giampaolo dressed again. "That one who was in the car with you when they got you... the one you were kissing... is he your lover?" "No, just a friend, like you with your boy..." "Is he a gay too?" "Yes, sure." "Don't you miss him?" "And you, your boy?" "A little, yes, I miss him..." "Just so." "Did you like studying architecture?" "Yes, very much. What would you have liked to study, if you could?" "I dunno. But I like studying. Just secondary." "Were you good, at school?" "In spite of all, yes." "When you get the money from... from my ransom, will you start studying again?" "I would like to, yes. I will go far away, to the north, or possibly abroad. Out of all this shit." "I wish you success." Damiano looked at him in silence. Then asked, "Don't you despise me?" "At first I did. Now... at times yes, at times no." "More yes or more no?" "More no..." "It's weird being here, inside the mountain, having not to trust each other... I never spent so much time with somebody. I never talked so much..." "If we don't talk, what can we do? Both go mad..." "I know what we could do..." Damiano said, looking at him. Giampaolo understood, but didn't answer. "I asked them to bring a gas heater here. In a while it will start to be chilly." "Have we to stay here so long,?" "I hope not, but... better to be ready..." "It will be lacking air, with a gas heater." "I'll open the door once in a while. The snow is falling so they could come here less frequently." "Because of the footprints?" "Right." "Who knows what my family is doing?" "Trying to free you." "Are you sure?" "Sure." "At times I think everybody has forgotten me..." "Bullshit." "It's already four months..." "Eh... but you've a strong character." "I'm trying." "Your succeeding. You're on the ball, even though you're a daddy's boy." "I'd like better to be the son of a poor devil. At least I wouldn't be here." "Look at me, then." Damiano retorted. "It's true, Rat. Then possibly something halfway, not too rich, not too poor..." "Eh, it could be..." "Wouldn't you like to be very rich?" "And so, possibly, being now at your place?" Damiano asked. Giampaolo smiled. Damiano added, "Each of us is what he is, stays where he can, follows his destiny." "But destiny we can shape, at least in part." "In part, in a very small part." "Rat?" "What's up?" "Why did you tell me to call you Rat?" "A name like another. Possibly because we are shut in this hole, like two rats, I dunno. I couldn't tell you my real name, could I?" "No, sure. But you could tell me Mario, or Carlo, or Giuseppe..." "No, I like my real name. Therefore I told you a name that is not a name. Do you like your name?" "I never thought about it... well, yes, anyway. I told you about my life, but you tell me little or nothing..." "I cannot. I'll give you clues... They told me to be very careful. When you are free, you'll recount everything to the carabineers. The more clues they get, the easier they can pinch us." "But I would like getting to know you better. Even though, gradually, I think I'm coming to know you..." +++++++++++++++++ 1982 - December Damiano entered. "Is it raining?" the other asked. "In buckets. Take my cloak. They're waiting for you." The boy said putting on the floor a big, black, plastic garbage bag. Then asked, "Everything alright?" "Sure." The man said wearing Damiano's waterproof cloak. "Be wary." He then said, going out. Damiano went out to lock the gate, then also the door. "Hi, Giampaolo." "Hi. Is it raining a lot?" "Yes, a lot, and it's cold." Damiano said taking off his boots and warming his feet in front of the gas heater. Then he put on his usual tennis shoes. He took the big black sack and pulled out a cardboard box. "In four days it will be Christmas... I brought you this..." He opened it and pulled out a small plastic Nativity. He set it on the table. "Christmas without a Nativity would not be Christmas." Damiano commented. "Will you spend it here?" "I really must. The others... they cannot." "The Nativity... he too was in a cave." "You're right. But we don't have the ox and the donkey." "We possibly are the donkey and the ox..." Giampaolo jested, then becoming serious, said, "I hoped I could be at home, for Christmas." "Not I... it would have been a day like any other..." Damiano said, then added, "I know that you don't feel the same way but... I like rather spending it with you." "Really, Rat! Not with your friends?" "I haven't friends, never had." "Not even one?" "Not even one... Well, one during the army service. But at my village..." "Your boy, the one who let you take him?" "He's moved... and anyway we were not really friends. We just fucked." "But the others of the... gang?" "Friends them? No way! Don't laugh when you hear me say that you are more nearly a friend than I ever had, just think! At least with you... I talk. And yet, I cannot be friends, not even with you..." "I don't hate you any more." "Not even a little bit?" "No." "Why?" "Because we are two unlucky boys... both prisoner. But why did you agree to be dragged into this story?" "The kidnapping? I told you, need the money, to get out of the sewer. The rat wants to leave the sewer. Yes, it could be for that reason I told you to call me Rat." "You're not a sewer rat. You're a little mouse... scared by the cat, like me now..." "Are you scared?" "At times I think that it will end... they will kill me." "No. No, not that. They're not murderers..." "Haw can you know?" "I know them. No, you have no reason to be scared, Giampaolo, really not. You should just be patient..." "How much... how long?" "Who knows. Let's live day after day." "But if the order comes to kill me?" "Bullshit." "If I tried to free myself, to attack you, wouldn't you kill me?" "I do things so that can't happen. I'm prudent." "But if I managed? Why do you have a pistol?" "They wanted me to have it." "For me, right?" "Also." "To scare me." "Yes." "But if I know you will not kill me, I wouldn't be scared any more, would I?" "That's right." "Therefore I could try to attack you, to throttle you with this chain." "Keys are out of reach, even if you killed me." "But I could force you to free me - you free me or I'll kill you." "I'm not scared of death. You could not succeed. And then, they would kill you for sure." "When one is desperate, one risks all." "Are you desperate?" "At times. In some moments... I really thought of throttling you with this chain..." "And you are telling me so? I will be more careful now..." "That could possibly be why I told you. If I have a fit of despair... at least you would be more careful. I would not harm you, I..." "Nor I. And on the contrary... I'm harming you, am I not?" "Screw and inmate... both prisoners." "It's true... How disgusting life is!" Damiano said. Christmas Eve came. Damiano fixed the meal. And dressed the table for two. "Why are you preparing for two? Don't you have to eat while I'm tied, and I afterwards?" "It's Christmas... I'll take the risk." Damiano said. He pulled out from the black sack two candles and lit them at the sides of the Nativity. Then two paper napkins with Christmas decorations. He put the food in the dishes. "Come, Giampaolo..." They sat at the table. They ate in silence, looking furtively at each other from time to time. Then Damiano pulled another box out of the black sack, and took from it a small cake. "Merry Christmas, Giampaolo..." Daiano said hesitantly, pushing half of the cake towards him. "Merry Cristmas, Mouse!" Giampaolo answered, feeling weird. They ate the cake. Then Damiano rummaged in the black sack again and took out a small packet. He handed it to Giampaolo. "That's for you." "What is it?" "A... a Christmas present. I never received one... But you told me that you always received some and that you enjoyed opening the packets... and so..." Giampaolo opened the packet and realized that his hands were trembling. He was sincerely moved. He unwrapped it. There was a pair of wool socks, a sheet of paper, an envelope with a stamp and a ball-pen, an armband made with two braided elephant hairs. "Explain me..." Giampaolo said, pointing at the objects. "Well I... I thought... it's becoming colder and you don't have woollen socks. These seemed me nice. I bought the best I found... Then the letter. I asked the chief and he said you can. But you have to write on it only Christmas greetings for your family. You should not write about us or this place. It would be better if you tell me before what you are going to write. I will then post it... And the armband... you told me you had one when you were a child, but that you lost it and you cried... And I know you now are sad, and so..." Giampaolo was deeply moved. For a moment he forgot being in front of his warden. "Put it on me..." he said giving him the armband and stretching out his arm. Damiano put it on him, then caressed his hand, but then immediately withdrew his own. "I cannot say this is a happy Christmas, Mouse... but not even ugly, thank to you. It is really a pity we had to meet... so." "Yes, it's a pity." "And afterwards... if there will be an afterwards... we could never see each other again, never be together again." "Right so." The little flames of the two candles near the small Nativity were reflecting on their eyes. They looked at each other, in silence, for a long while. Immersed in god knows what thoughts. Then Giampaolo took the ball-pen, the sheet of paper, and said, "Tell me what I have to write." "No, it should be your letter..." "No, I want you to tell me. So it will surely be OK. Imagine you are in my place..." Damiano looked at him, then, in a low voice, said: "My beloved parents and... put the names of your brother and sister... it's Christmas Eve and even though we are separated, my heart is with you as I know that your hearts are with me even if you don't know where I am. In spite of being kept prisoner, I am well, don't be too much in pain for me. Of course I miss you but I hope we can be soon together and that all will erase this bad dream both in your hearts and in mine. "I'm lucky I have a family like you, if only everybody could have it. I am losing some study months, but then I will recover and everything will be good. All this now seems me really ugly, but who knows that one day we could talk about this without feeling bad any more. Life is beautiful even if at times it seems not so. "Say a big bye to all the friends who are thinking of me, as I'm thinking of them. Don't be in pain for me, as I am strong, am no more a child. I eat, and don't feel the cold, and am in good health. I embrace you very tightly and would like you could feel this embrace, that is true and sincere, because you deserve it. Yours, Giampaolo." Damiano became silent. He had his fingers strongly crossed, so vigorously that his knuckles were white. "It's beautiful. I would not have been able to write better than that. Thank you, Mouse." Giampaolo said, putting down the ball-pen. "Write the address on the envelope. And close it." "Won't you read it, to check if I've written what you said?" "No, I don't need to." "Anyway, I wrote what you said." Giampaolo said. He put the letter inside the envelope, closed it and gave it to Damiano. "I cannot post it here, they would see the postmark..." Damiano said, "But I know how to have it sent from another place." "Are you sure my family will get it?" "If the post service works, they will. It will just take some time... I'll send it inside another envelope to an uncle living in the north. He will send your letter. And your family will get it." ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------