Date: Thu, 5 Apr 2012 17:26:09 -0700 (PDT) From: Christos Kastellanos Subject: Love Lost / Chapter one / Fantasy Love Lost, Love Found By Christos Kastellanos Chapter One Cast of Characters Chariton, Greek name meaning "grace, kindness and the ruling king of the Lamia Alexandros and Abaddon Michelakakis, identical twins and sons of King Chariton Alexandros, his name is Greek and is composed of the elements; Alex, which means "to defend" and Andros "man," hence "defender of mankind and heir to the Lamia throne. Abaddon, Greek name derived from Hebrew abaddown, meaning "destruction, ruination. Michael Lakis, Greek name derived from the word nazara, "the guarded one, and FBI agent Chris Nomikos, a descendent Chrysanthos and a young police officer with the Springfield, Massachusetts police department Patrick O'Malley, older detective and good friend with Chris Brian Mathews, local bartender at the Pub, a popular gay bar Springfield Massachusetts 1999 AD Abaddon burst forth from the earth, after centuries of waiting and healing. He was hungry, no, he was ravenous and he needed sustenance and he wanted it now. But there was something else, something much greater than the hunger that he was feeling that held him in its grasp. His hatred and need for revenge against his brother. He strolled around the cave, naked and holding out his right arm, flexing the hand to make sure that all was healed. When he was satisfied that it was healed, he waved his hand and clothes covered his naked form. Clothes such as those that he had worn eons ago, a white toga tied about the waist with a gold cord, sandals on his feet. His hair, golden and curling, and it hung down his past his shoulders, framing a face of an Adonis. He had been well hidden all these centuries from those who would have hunted him down and killed him. The cave he had chosen to heal in, was rich with the black soil of his homeland, and was only accessed by entering as a mist through a fissure in the rocks that formed the face of a very steep cliff. The beach below was visible only when the tide was low, so many of the local teens hung out there until the tide came in. "Hey man, what are you dressed up for, Halloween," Kevin, one of the boys from a group of boys and girls asked sarcastically, startling him as they approached from behind him. "That was your first mistake, human, sneaking up on me," he thought as he turned to face Kevin. He was tall, but not as tall as he was, with dark brown hair, buzzed and eyes to match its color. Wearing what he was, it was easy to see that the boy took good care of his body. Muscles rippled everywhere, and a pronounce bulge pushed against the small amount of fabric that stretched to cover his manhood. He turned and faced the rest of the group, the girls wore similar pieces of cloth that barely covered their breasts, and an even skimpier piece down below. The boys wore similar garments as Kevin, covering their manhood and when one turned his back to him to talk to a girl; he saw the nakedness of the boy's bottom. "Hey mister, are you alright," a short, pretty girl asked, stepping close and placing her hand softly on his shoulder. "What time is this," he asked and a boy looked at his watch. "Nine twenty-seven," he said to him. "No, what year is this," he asked. "Nineteen ninety-nine, everyone knows what year it is mister. What fucking planet have you been living on?" Kevin asked with the same sarcastic tone. "That was your second mistake, human, disrespecting me," he thought. He had lost over two thousands years because of his brother, and that alone made his rage even greater. Then he began thinking. `Even my brother would not be king, but his heir apparent, and how convenient is that,' he thought, `to destroy my brother's son and take the throne as well.' "Thank you," he said, nodding to the group and when the group started off, Kevin paused, turned and gasped when he saw that within seconds, the stranger had disappeared. A shiver ran down his spine, a cold breeze suddenly touched him, causing him to shiver. "You guys get going and I'll catch up with you, I gotta piss like a race horse," he said, hurrying over to an outcrop of rocks, desperate to relieve himself. Once he was out of sight of his friends, he pulled down the front of his thong bathing suit, and let his sex breathe as he let loose with his piss. "That boy was your third and final mistake, separating yourself from your friends," he thought, standing behind the boy silently. A sudden cold enveloped Kevin again, sending shivers racing down his spine. It was as if a winter wind was breathing down his neck. He didn't bother to pull his bathing suit up, but turned, and yelped when he came face to face with...Abaddon. "What the fuck man, did you have to sneak up on me like that? If you wanted to see my cock why didn't you just ask," Kevin scolded, shaking his cock around for Abaddon to see. "You want to suck it, mister, I'll let you if you want to," Kevin said, stroking his sex to its full hardness. "Oh yes, I want to suck you alright, but not that sorry excuse for a manhood, I want your blood," Abaddon said and before Kevin could make a sound, his fangs had settled deep into Kevin's neck, drinking Kevin's lifeblood. Kevin's body shook violently, as Abaddon drank and drank of his blood. Drained and dead, Abaddon snapped Kevin's neck, causing Kevin's head to fall into the sand. "Delicious, my dear boy, simply delicious," Abaddon said, burped and then smiled, taking to the air as a powerful hawk. *** A month later... Chris Nomikos stepped up to the counter, took a seat on a stool and looked over the menu that sat before him. He was not like the other cops that buzzed their hair; he wore his hair shoulder length. It was golden blond and it had a tendency to curl, making a perfect frame for his face. `If I were to dress you in a toga Chris, you would be an exact replica Michelangelo's David,' his mother once told him. He was twenty-one and fresh out of the academy and hoping to quickly rise through the ranks and make detective someday. Adonis... that was another word his mother had used to describe his looks. He had ice blue eyes with thick curling lashes, classic high and defined cheekbones, strait nose, long, but not overly, and lips that were pouting and sensuously full. His complexion clear and kissed by the sun, tanned to a golden color. "How goes the battle, handsome," a redheaded waitress asked, smiling and chewing on hours old gum. "Same old same old, Violet... what would you recommend," he asked, tossing down the menu and looking up into her pale blue eyes. "Truthfully, why don't you and me head down the road to `Francesco's' for some real food and one hot, romantic dinner before going back to my place for some really hot sex," she said leaning with her elbows on the counter as she gazed into Chris' blue eyes. "But seeing how you're working Chris, the meatloaf is good," she disappointedly added, standing up and ready to write down his order. "Then meatloaf it is, sweetie," he said smiling at her. He looked around the small diner, taking in the people that frequented the place, and those that were new. He saw several teen age boys sitting in a booth, and thought about them and their safety. Several minutes later, Violet returned with his dinner, setting it before him before she refilled his coffee. "Thanks babe," he nodded and dove into his dinner with his fork. He glanced at his watch, four more hours and then he'd be done again for another day, or rather another night. He had loved the nightshift; it got him away from the sweltering heat of the day. Yes crimes were at their highest at night, but temps were lower, so he stayed on nights. He finished the rest of his dinner, took a coffee to go and walked out, nodding to Violet who looked at him as if her best friend was leaving her life for good. "Damn what I would give for one night in the sack with that hunk of man flesh," she said with a sigh. "You and half he women around," Carol, another waitress remarked, she too watching Chris' hard round ass as he walked away. "You're staring again ladies," Chris said without turning, yet giving them a wave as he opened the door and stepped out into the night. "Yep, one damn fine piece of man flesh," Violet said once again before resuming her duties. *** Across town at `The Pub,' a local gay bar, a man sat and watched, glancing at the patrons as if he were shopping. He wore a black silk shirt and black jeans and was sinfully handsome. His coal black hair and eyes only added to his mystique and allurement. He had been hit upon numerous times as he waited, never once accepting even a kiss from the want to be lover. Why, because he was shopping; he was shopping for that perfect someone, blond hair and blue eyes and somewhere around eighteen years of age or slightly older. But there was one more feature, one very important feature that he needed the man to have, he needed to be alone. He was deep in his thoughts when that perfect man walked into the bar. His long, wet blond hair that fell to just about his shoulders caught his attention instantly as he walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. His wet white tee shirt and thread bare denim shorts clung to his body like a second skin. Abaddon saw his muscles, the bulging groin and his heart began to pound and his mouth to salivate. The shorts hugged his hard, round ass and left nothing to the imagination as to what the man was packing in his crotch, he was the perfect one he thought. He could tell that this man had muscles, because when he lifted his shirt to wipe the rain from his face, he revealed a nice six pack and a treasure trail of darker blond hair that ran down his torso and into his short's waistband. "What's up stud," the man asked as he gazed into the man's blue eyes when he glanced his way. "Did you get caught in the rain?" "No, I always shower with my clothes on, yes I got caught in the fucking rain, and by the way, it's David, not stud," he said sarcastically and staring irritably at the man. Normally he would not have been so sarcastic to a perspective client, and especially one as handsome as this man was. There was something about the man though; David thought about it, it was his eyes. He just couldn't pull his eyes away from the man's. They were steel gray, almost black, hypnotic, and they seemed to look into his soul, making David uneasy. "Damn your eyes are freaky mister, they look like you can see right through me," David told him, gazing at his eyes. "And I like what I see," Abaddon said with a perfect teeth smile. Abaddon watched him and the longer he watched him, the more uncomfortable David felt, as if he felt threatened. Brian, the bartender, set David's beer before him and pulled David closer, so that only they could hear what they were saying. "Stay clear of that one, David. I've been watching him as he looked around this evening, and it's almost like he's stalking the place, as if looking for his next victim or something," he warned. "He looks harmless enough," David said, glancing over at Abaddon. "Remember the saying kid, `you can't judge a book by its cover,' he reminded him, David nodded and returned to his seat. Once seated, again he felt that magnetism from Abaddon, pulling him to him. "So David, why are you all wet," Brian inquired as he took the money that David held out to him for his beer. "Is everyone blind or what, its fucking pouring outside," he told him. "Well I know that, but don't you have a car, after all, our parking garage is covered so you shouldn't be so wet," he told David. "My car broke down yesterday, so a friend gave me a ride close to here and I hoofed it the rest of the way. I was just about here when the fucking sky opened up and a deluge began falling." "Damn sorry man, so how are you getting home later?" he asked, wiping off the bar with a wet rag. "I'll just thumb a ride home," he added. "NO! I wouldn't do that if I were you David, not with that psychopath still running loose and killing young men. The last that I heard, he had killed over ten, maybe more, so..." "I can handle myself Brian; I'm a black belt in jujitsu, so I know how to protect myself," he confided with a smug smirk on his face. "Just the same, you are just asking for trouble hitching a ride from strangers," Brian warned. "Hello Brian, I hustle for living so accepting rides from a stranger is not anything new to me," David told him. "Even so, I even warned my boyfriend Rickie about being careful," he added. "I know, he told me how you worry about him, but he and I are both careful, Bri," he said and then drained his beer. They talked for a few more minutes before Brian had another customer and had to leave. "You know that your friend is right, hitching a ride with a stranger can be fatal these days?" the man said and his leg brushed against David's leg when he turned toward him. David could feel an intense heat and it seem to burn into him. He pressed his own leg closer, smiling seductively at the man. "So tell...stud, where you live?" he asked, placing his hand on David's thigh and giving it a slight squeeze. "Over in the Forest Park area...why," he asked cautiously and moved his seat closer to the man. "I like what I see and more so, what I'm feeling," he whispered, as he moved his hand suggestively over David's rapidly swelling cock. "Like your friend said, it's not a good idea to be hitching a ride with a stranger," he added for emphasis. "Well you're a stranger," David whispered, moaning as the man's hand crawl inside and up the leg of David's shorts, found his swollen sex, and began to teasingly massage it. "I think you and I can rectify that, that is if you are willing," he said huskily. He looked around quickly, leaned close to David's ear and whispered, his breath teasing David's ear. "I suck if you care to go," he suggested. "I prefer to get fucked," David said, and when he turned his head to face the man, the man's eyes seemed to glow red for a second and once David blinked, they had returned to normal. "Whatever... shall we then," he said, motioning with his hand toward the door. David looked out the bar room window; it was still pouring cats and dogs outside, which was quite common for the month of June. He didn't relish the thought of walking home in the cold rain but then he didn't know this man either. Hell, for that matter, he didn't know any of the men that he serviced when working the streets. David gave it a serious thought as he looked more closely at the man. He was horny as hell and this man was drop dead gorgeous; he decided to take the man up on his offer. "I'd really appreciate it..." he nodded toward the man as he waited for him to give him his name. "Abaddon, but friends call me Adam and it's a pleasure to meet you, David," he said, pulling his hand away and standing. "Well if you're ready..." he said, pausing to see if the David would follow, and he did. "Abaddon, that's a very unusual name," David casually said as the walked away. "What does it mean?" "Its Greek and you really don't want to know, handsome," he told him, placing his hand to the small of David's back and guiding him toward the door. Abaddon wanted David away as quickly as he could from the influence of Brian, so he hurried them out of the bar before Brian could return and caution David. All night Brian had been watching Abaddon and there seemed to be a building mistrust between them. Brian had been the resident bartender for over six years, and this was the first time that he had seen this man. Brian was not a man that mistrusted people, but Abaddon, was the exception. Brian watched as the two walked out, a cold chill suddenly ran down his spine. He was about to call out to David, but Gary, another regular there, called out for another beer and got his attention. "Brian, how about those beers," he yelled, snuggling up to his perspective one night stand. Brian hurried to the cooler, grabbed the beers, and brought them over to Gary, but when he turned toward the door, David and the stranger were gone. David followed the man to his vehicle...a late model Cadillac SUV, black, which was parked in the far corner of the lot. Unless you knew that it was parked there, you couldn't see it, because it was obscured from view by dense shrubs. David got an uneasy feeling but he chose to ignore it, because Abaddon' hand was down his shorts and fingering his ass. David moaned as Adam slid two fingers into his ass, twisting them and rubbing against his love nut. "Fuck mister...you're gonna make me come right here and we haven't even gotten in the vehicle," David moaned. Suddenly the rain began to fall harder and with a hurricane force wind was driving it sideways. Again, as the man unlocked the passenger side door a cold chill crept down David's spine. "Here you go handsome," he told David, holding the door open and offering a hand up to him. "Wow, a fucking gentleman," he said as he took his hand and allowed Adam to help him up into the van. Davey hesitated for a moment, his hand pressed against the door, preventing it from closing. He looked around him as if half expecting or feeling something, but then shrugged his shoulders and let Abaddon close the door. "Wow man, how'd you move so fast," he asked, noticing how fast Abaddon got from one side of the SUV to the other and then inside. Abaddon shrugged his shoulders, "You move fast when it's raining like this," he offered David for an excuse, but David seemed nervous and didn't buy it. "Nah, that almost seem supernatural the way you moved. The only person that I saw moved like that was Edward in the Twilight movies," David said as they started to drive away. "I think I would rather we went back inside, Adam," he said nervously. Abaddon turned to face David, locking eyes with him. "We are going down to the park by the river," Abaddon said with a hypnotic male voice. "It's the perfect place for us to make love," he added. "Yes the river, it is the perfect place for making love." he repeated, as if in a trance. As the van drove away, the only sign that David and Abaddon had ever been there, were the tire tracks in the mud along side the wet pavement. *** Chris killed most of the night, doing his rounds and stopping to chat with the local night people to see how they were doing. He saw several of the `working girls' as his fellow cops like to call them and when they saw Chris, they waved warmly at him. As he past them and a bit further down the street, a boy of about sixteen was leaning into a SUV talking to a man. The man noticed the cruiser and abruptly left, shielding his face from view and leaving a pissed off Rickie standing there and frantically waving Chris over. In his haste to leave, he had nearly caused Rickie to fall. "Thanks Chris, you scared off a potential client," the cute, blondish red haired teen scolded. "Hey, I probably saved your sorry ass, Rickie," Chris said, stepping out of his cruiser. Rickie stepped close to Chris and after looking around, he whispered to him... "I don't know if this means anything, but that guy in the SUV wanted to know if I wanted to go for the ride of my life with him," Rickie told him. "Well isn't that your job `going for a ride with men'?" Chris asked a bit sarcastically, chuckling a bit at the teen. "Yeah smart ass, you know it is, but I just got a weird feeling about him, especially with how he said `ride of my life'. He was sinfully handsome and hung, but there was something strange about him that didn't sit quite right with me," he told him, giving Chris's body a once over with his hazel eyes. "Did you get a good look at the man or maybe a license plate number," Chris asked, bringing Rickie's eyes back to his. "That's the other thing that I found strange, there wasn't a plate, not on the front or on the back, Chris," he told him. "And as for getting a look at the guy, that is what freaked me out. His eyes were freaky, almost hypnotic, as if he had the power to make me do whatever he wanted." "Hey Rickie, are you getting lucky with Officer Chris," Brad, a cute blond teen of about seventeen yelled out from across the street when he saw Chris hand Rickie some money. "I wish I was getting lucky, Brad," he yelled back, then returned his attention to Chris, giving him a sensuous smile. "I really do wish that you would let me do you sometime, Chris," he whispered to Chris, again causing Chris to blush. "Its bad enough that I turn my head the other way with you boys, never mind getting caught with an underage boy having sex," he explained. "Just take the money and go home, Rickie," Chris whispered. "He could come back and... well just go home sweetie," Chris urged. "I'm ok Chris, but thanks. If I get a gut feeling about a guy, I don't go with him, and that man surely gave me a gut feeling," he said, smiling warmly up at Chris. "Even still, just go home, handsome... for me, because now even I have gotten a gut feeling about him," he said and got back in his cruiser. "Chris thanks, but can't I give you something in return for the money?" he asked excitedly, reaching between them and rubbing Chris' crotch. "No, now go home before I change my mind and run your ass in," Chris said sternly and then gave the boy a smile. "Here, give this to stud boy over there and tell him to go home also. If I see either of you on the streets tonight, I'll run you both in," he warned and got back into his cruiser. "I will Chris, thanks. As for going home, I can't, Brian is meeting me once he's off for the night." "Then go over to the bar and wait there for him, but I want you off of the streets, now beat it," he ordered and Rickie shrugged his shoulders and left. *** Chris resumed his rounds and things were rather quiet for the most part. He had been several hours into second half of his shift and was thinking that it was going to be a quiet night. When he took his last run down to Riverfront Park, a sudden cold chill ran down his spine, alarming him. He parked his cruiser, got out, and began walking around with his flashlight lighting his way. As his eyes scanned the various places where known sexual activity was performed, namely the thick bushes that lined the paved walkway, he immediately knew that something was amiss. Again, a cold chill assaulted him. `Damn, calm down Chris, you are fucking spooking yourself,' he thought as he walked further down the sidewalk. `So much for a quiet evening,' he added, sighing as he a cold sweat formed along his brow. He knew better than to go fishing for trouble without backup, but he hadn't suspected that he would be so spooked either, so he hadn't bothered to call in for backup. Thankful for his flashlight shining its light before him, he proceeded cautiously on, his senses on alert as he walked further away from the few park lights and into a deep darkness. He gasped and froze in place when his attention was drawn to two bare feet sticking out from the bushes. They were facing toes down and it appeared that from their position, he was being fucked. "Police, come out with your hands up," he instinctively yelled, holding still where he stood with his light illuminating the feet, and going for his revolver. When he got no response, he cautiously moved towards the feet and yelled out in shock, for there in the grass and dirt laid the naked, headless body of a very young man. His head lay a few feet away and its eyes revealed the fear that this boy had experienced just before he died. Once he had regained his composure, Chris immediately called for back up. "I have a 419 at Riverside Park," he shouted into his shoulder mounted radio, letting the dispatcher know that he had a dead body. "Ten-four Chris," Blue, the police dispatcher acknowledged. "Hang in there kid, back up is on the way," she confirmed with her comforting voice. Chris looked down at the man, instantly recognizing him as David Bennett. He was naked and Chris could no longer contain the sick feeling he had and moved quickly away and vomited. "Damn it David, why didn't you heed the police warnings,' he asked once he regained his composure His attention was drawn away by the shrieking sounds of approaching sirens. Back up was arriving fast and he hurried back to his cruiser, retrieved the crime scene yellow tape, and headed back to the scene. "The mayor is going to be pissed," he found himself saying, as he strung the police tape across the around the area. Within seconds, several cruisers had arrived at the crime scene and along with Patrick O'Malley, stepped forth a man that Chris did not recognize. "Hey Chris, what have you got now?" Patrick asked Chris. "A body Pat and his head has been severed like all of the others," Chris said quietly, knowing how badly Patrick took it whenever another person was murdered. "I recognize him as a local hustler downtown by the name of David Bennett," he added, and all the while this mysterious man watched him. "Shit, not him too, even I knew David," he mumbled, "long story so don't ask," he added as he, Chris and the stranger, ducked under the police tape and walked down sidewalk toward the body. The stranger was dressed in a black suit and even though it was night, he wore dark sunglasses. "Is everything just as you found it," the stranger asked Chris, as they arrived upon the scene where the body rested, resting his hand on Chris's shoulder. Normally, that gesture wouldn't bother Chris, but he did not know this man, so why was he acting so familiar with him, he wondered. "Yes it is, I was very careful to maintain the integrity of the scene and roped it off with police tape," he told him, looking down at his hand, before turning his gaze to the man's eyes, and what eyes they were now that he had removed his glasses. His eyes were as black as a raven's wings and had a glint of gold specks in them. They looked down into Chris' and Chris seemed unable to move or to turn away. "Agent Michael Lakis, I've been called in to assist with the murder investigation," he said dryly, his voice deep and charismatic. "Oh fuck," Patrick said as he turned away from the body and vomited. "Let me take over," Michael said, stepping over to the body and getting closer look. "Ah...the coroner usually does that," Chris said as he watched over Michael's shoulder. "I am not harming or degrading the evidence," Michael told him as he examined the body. `Arrogant son of a bitch,' Chris thought, looking over Michael's shoulder and ready to report any wrong doing. "I would have to agree with you on the first, but I'm afraid my mother would highly disagree with the second," Michael said, without turning to see the astonished look on Chris' face. Chris was ready to form a harsher thought, when Michael turned to him with that perfect smile he wore. "Careful now, don't go thinking anything that you wouldn't want revealed," he said, smiled, winked and turned back to what he was doing. Patrick had regained his composure and was ambling back to the scene when Chris pulled him aside. "Where the fuck did you get him," he whispered, but highly doubted it did any good to do so. "He was there at the station when I got to work, talking with the captain. He's got all the right credentials, and I'm sure that he's been checked out by the commissioner." "Even so, there is something creepy about him, it's like he..." "Like I what, Chris," Michael asked, standing beside him and causing both Chris and Patrick to jump. "Dammit man, do all you agents gotta sneak up on people?" Patrick asked angrily and walked away, leaving Chris alone with Michael. "As you were saying officer, like I was what?" "Like there is something supernatural about you. You just don't seem quite normal, but then again, you are an FBI agent," he mused and walked away also. "Quick witted and easily angered, hmmm," he said to himself, watching Chris as he walked away. "Nice round ass, double hmmm," he thought with a smile. *** The long draining night was over and Chris dragged himself up the stairs and into the shower. He could smell death, it seemed to permeate his pores and he scrubbed long and hard as he washed away its smell. He closed the water, grabbed the towel hanging from the bar beside the shower, and stepped from the tub, drying himself vigorously. He was exhausted, so he dropped the towel beside the tub, he'd pick it up later, and walked from the bathroom and over to his bed. As he crept beneath the sheet, his eyes were already closing and he was drifting off to sleep. Almost immediately, he began dreaming. He was walking along a beach, one that he didn't recognize, and yet, it did seem familiar to him. In his dream he was walking, wearing a toga and a thick fog seem to come from out of nowhere, enveloping him as he moved along the beach... "Where are you, my love," he heard a voice call out. "Answer me... please, where are you," the voice called again and this time, from the shadows stepped the figure of a man. His form, tall and muscular and yet, with the moon's light silhouetting him from behind, he face was obscured. To Chris, he looked vaguely familiar, and yet why the sudden chill of fear he was feeling. His police instinct caused him to stop walking and yet, this man's seductive voice urged him forward. "Chrysanthos!" he heard called, yet not aloud, but in his mind. Who was this Chrysanthos, he asked himself, when his name was Christopher, he wondered and looked harder at the man standing there and beckoning him onward. "Come to me, , Chrysanthos," he heard again, and yet the same chill of fear caused him to step several steps back, shaking his head as he looked at the man. "It is I, Alexandros, come to me slave," he heard and bewilderment now plagued his mind as strong as the fear which paralyzed his heart. "Leave me alone... you lie, you are not who you say you are," he heard himself shouting, but wondered why. He did not know any Alexandros, but somehow he did. "Alexandros would never call me his slave," he shouted back again, why? Yet this man, his very image was someone he should know, yet did not. He continued to step backward, as the man moved forward. He turned to run and as if he could not make his feet move, a hand upon his shoulder, gripped him, and turned him about. It should have been warm, the touch, yet it was cold, colder than ice, and the depths of this man's eyes glowed red. "You dare run from me human," the man said, yet did not, but somehow his words were spoken in Chris' mind. Fear like none that had ever seized him, left him defenseless as this man pulled him closer, their eyes locked together. His face was sinfully handsome, yet pure evil seem to live within his eyes. "Die," was all that he heard as the man lowered his open mouth down toward his neck. He was helpless and he knew that he was going to die and yet he could not move to prevent it. He closed his eyes and reopened them when the shrill shriek of an eagle broke the silence of the night, and he looked up, as well as the man that was holding him tight. An eagle, larger than any that he had ever seen before was flying downward, directly at them. Chris awoke shaking and his body glowed with a patina of cold sweat, fear still gripping his senses. "I'm not alone," he said within his mind as reached for the lamp beside his bed. His eyes moved about the room and froze; someone was standing in the open doorway which led out to his balcony. "Invite me into your room," he felt more than heard in his mind. "I must be invited in, Chrysanthos." "No... I don't know how, and how did you get up on my balcony?" he yelled, but the man did not move. "I have a gun and will use it," he warned, grabbing his service revolver, which he kept handy beside his bed. A laugh, cold and haunting, which seemed to cause his blood to congeal, broke the silence of the night, causing Chris to panic and begin firing at the figure. "I meant you no harm, for I only wished to be with you," he heard aloud this time, just before the man disappeared into thin a mist. "What the fuck is going on with me... am I still dreaming," he asked himself as he fell back the bed, and soon, asleep again. To be continued... Comments are appreciated at christoskastellanos@yahoo.com Thank you for reading it and taking the time to respond. Chris