We Dream About Surviving

Chapter 1 - Strangulation

September/October, 2341

Following around a target, getting close but not too close, was never my favorite part of killing. To some murderers it’s hunting the prey down, that’s the most exhilarating part of the process, the thing that really gets them going. Me though, I just want to see people die. I want to see the life drain out of their eyes, I want to know that they won’t bother anyone anymore. That there’s one less person around, being a nuisance to the world. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t go around killing ‘bad people’, making sure they don’t harm anyone ever again. I don’t give a fuck what kind of person you might be, I kill for fun and money, the latter just being a bonus.

It feels like I’ve followed her for hours on end, when she turns another corner, one that’s leading her exactly where I want her to be. A secluded little alley, with no one else around, one that she cuts through every day. When I kill for money, I take precautions, do a little work before the actual killing.

It’s different when I do it for fun, not that I take more chances in regards to getting caught, but there I just grab people at random, whenever I think I can get away with it.

Work though, is different. I need to get a hold of the right person, a specific target, that someone else has decided for me. It makes it a little more complicated, yes, but I have a set of skills that makes me get away with it, every single time. I don’t think I’m anywhere near a police radar, no one has the faintest clue as to who I am. If anything, the specified killings are logged into a file containing information on the one who ordered the hit in the first place, and the randoms stay random, due to me never using the same method too often. Of course there is a limited number of ways you can murder someone, but I switch them up a lot, which is exactly why I’ve never gotten categorized as a serial killer. I might be a homicidal maniac, but I’m definitely not a stupid one.

The second she enters the alley, devoid of other people, she’s mine. I haven’t followed her from behind, nor from the front where I’d have to glance across my shoulder every other second to make sure she’s still there. No, I am above her, lurking in the darkness of night, perched on a fire escape. Sneaking around quietly is not my most honed competence, my footsteps can be heard as I climb down the ladders, rasping against old, weathered metal. It doesn’t matter this time around, she’s got headphones on, but I need to get better at that for future killings.

She spots my shadow as I creep up behind her, but it’s too late. I latch my hands around her from behind, one arm pressed firmly against her neck, the other covering her mouth so she can’t scream. That’s the downside of killing people, it produces noises that I don’t much care for. Right now I’ve got a good grip on her though, and I’m pretty sure she can’t get a word out between my fingers, no matter how hard she tries.

“Listen closely, lady,” I whisper into her ear, “You are about to die, there’s nothing you can do about it, so you might as well roll with the punches.”

She tries to kick me away, squirm out of my grip, but I am a lot stronger than she is. It’s an instinctive thing, everybody does it, but I still prefer to give people a heads up on what’s going to happen. It’s common courtesy, letting my victims know that they have no life left to live, that this is where their journey ends. Maybe some day someone will just accept it, and be perfectly still for it to happen.

I drag her backwards, until my back hits the wall behind me. Then I swirl her around, one quick motion, slamming her hard against the concrete surface, knocking the wind out of her. She looks desperate, her eyes large and filled with tears, and if I could her the words trying to push themselves through the grip of my fingers, I would hear her pleading for her life.

Now comes the hard part, I have decided upon strangling her, but that means I need to move my hands from their current position, to locking around her neck. It has to be quick, this is the one point where the might be the slightest of opportunity for her to get away. I’ve got a way around it though, I loosen the grip every so slightly, making her think this is her one shot, then press back hard and quick, banging her head against the wall. It doesn’t knock her unconscious, but it does give me that one second to move my hands from her chest and face, to being around her neck.

I lift her by the neck, she’s at least a foot shorter than me and doesn’t weigh much, making it an easy move. My fingers are curled tightly, she can’t breathe, and no matter how hard she tries to pry my hands away, there is no hope left for her. Kicking and flailing her arms, her eyes glazing over and rolling back in her head, her life drains away. Only when I’m absolutely sure that she’s completely gone, not the slightest breath of air left in her lungs, do I let her go. Sliding down the wall, she falls hard on the ground, and I wipe my glove-clad hands from imaginary dust. She stays put on the ground, and I have no reason to try and move the body. It’s not my problem, and it wouldn’t do me any good to waste time on it. She’s dead, and I am free to move on with my life.

Climbing back up the fire escape, all the way up to the top of the roof, there’s an old steel pipe running from this building to the next. I balance over it, gain a little speed running across the following roof, then jump onward to the next. Soon enough I’m far away from the scene of crime, and the further away I get, the safer I become. As easy as that, I have claimed my 12th victim, and I am now free to go do whatever I want.

See, you don’t have to be some great assassin who knows fifty types of martial arts, can jump from the top of a building; every weapon in the book strapped to your body while doing so; just to kill someone. Look at me, I’m 16, and I murder people just fine.

***

Walking back home could probably be done quicker if I took the high ground, moving across rooftops in a steady upbeat tempo. I’m not in the mood for that though, today I feel more like walking in the crisp night air; one hand shoved in my pocket, the other holding a cigarette; looking up at the stars every now and then. It’s a starry night, the moon is up high, and I barely notice anything besides that.

Walking past a building, I register a party going on, most likely held by high school kids whose parents are out of town. Me myself, am a high school dropout, as I decided it to be a waste of time about two weeks ago. I already know what I want to do with my life, I know what I find both interesting and delightful, and that is not something they teach you in school.

I can spot a few people from my old school though; they have started a fire within a couple of old metal barrels, the light playfully creating a golden glow and dark shadows across their features. As little as I care for the people I kill, I care the exact same amount for the ones I don’t. They are inane waste of space, even if they aren’t getting on my nerves right now, they are sure to do so somewhere down the line. Doesn’t mean I’ll kill every single one of them, but I wouldn’t mind if it did. Maybe some day I’ll plant a bomb at my old school, taking out a large percentage all at once.

My train of thought gets distracted by a noise, someone sounding frightened, a little way up ahead. I squint, trying to make out the shapes in the darkness, but I don’t see much. It looks like three large boys are pushing around a forth, but the one being pushed around, isn’t just a regular human. He is clearly one of the Evolved, his skin pitch black, dotted with little white freckles that look like stars scattered across a night sky. His eyes are glowing orange; no white around the edges, no black pupils; and even from this distance I can see the fire gleaming inside of them. He looks scared, the three much larger boys are obviously up to no good, which isn’t unusual treatment for the Evolved. People avoid them at best, try to harm them at worst. They frighten people, and fear has never brought anything good with it.

I have absolutely no idea why, but my feet are dragging me towards the fight that’s about to happen. Never in my entire life have I cared about anyone but myself, but this… It just seems unfair to me. Three against one is just wrong, and even if I don’t give a fuck for other people, this draws me to get involved. Besides, even though I’ve already killed one person today, I feel like a fight. Not a deadly one; there are way too many people around for that to take place; just a good old fashioned fight, where I get to beat the shit out of someone. With kids my own age, you can get away with that, they won’t call the cops, and even if they do, there’s no way they’ll find me. Either they won’t bother, or they simply can’t. Young white male, dark hair buzzed down to a nice peach-fuzz, blue eyes, average build, average height; that could be anyone. I’m not even close to where I live, this isn’t the route I usually take, yeah, good luck finding me.

Once I’m close enough, I can see clearly that there are grins plastered on each three of the boys’ faces. They find it funny, they enjoy pushing this poor Evolved kid around, which just make them seem all that more disgusting to me. I don’t push people around myself, I kill them off and be done with it. This is different, this is harmful in an entirely different way. That’s why I walk up to them, one hand still stuffed in my pocket, the other flicking the cigarette off to the side. They notice me when I make that tiny little gesture, glaring at me.

“Hey, get the fuck out of here,” one of them says, and the guy’s still got his hand on the collar of the Evolved kid’s shirt.

I stand there for a moment, give them a long once-over, judging out which of them will be the biggest problem. One is a tad taller than the other two, but the one with his hand clutched to the kid’s shirt seems more aggressive.

“How ‘bout this. You leave him the fuck alone, and I probably won’t rip the skin off your face and feed it to you afterwards,” I say the words casually, like someone who’s laying out a schedule for a simple get-together between friends.

I’m obviously in charge of the situation, even if they think they are. The smallest one begins looking a little squeamish though, he would much rather take off now, than wait around to see if I’m serious. I am, the act itself should be doable, it would take a knife or something equally sharp, but I never leave the house without one. Would make a fucking mess though, and since I was only out to strangle someone, I wore a white T-shirt. I’d prefer it if it stayed that way, but if there’s no other option, it’s just a piece of clothing.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” the largest one spits, inching closer to me. The one who had his hands on the Evolved lets go of him, and step one is accomplished right there. “Get the fuck out of here, it’s none of your business.”

He walks up close, and I don’t move at all, I don’t even flinch when he lifts both his hands and push me in the chest. What a typical macho-man thing to do. Let me show you how big and dangerous I can be, with a ridiculous push.

I chuckle a little, “Okay, see now best case scenario is me only beating out half of your teeth. Wanna keep pushing me, and see if you can move it up a notch?”

I am not only stronger than he is, I’m also quicker and more perceptive. I know what it looks like, when someone is about to punch me. I know exactly what to keep an eye on before they do, and I can see what’s coming, as soon as his fingers start moving, curling themselves into fists. I shake my head at him, and before he even gets to raise his hand, I’ve punched him hard. Pretty sure I broke his nose with that one, but I am far from done.

He tumbles backwards, giving me the perfect opportunity to land a kick in his groin, making him trip over entirely. He curls into a ball on the ground, clutching at his genitals, a part of his body he won’t be able to use for at least a couple of days. I move in closer, my walk casual, dig into my pocket and pull out a couple of hundred dollar bills. Bending down I put them in the front pocket of his jacket, padding him gently on his bloody cheek as I do so.

“For the dentist bill,” I comment, amused. I may be a murderer, but I’m not completely unreasonable.

Pulling back up, I take a step back, noticing that both of his friends have already gone running. That I expected, neither of those guys looked capable of fighting, nor interested in doing so. I draw a foot back, and putting all my weight into it, I kick him square on the mouth. He screams, bits of broken teeth falling to the ground as he does so. Told him I’d remove them, didn’t I? I kick him again, his head jerking to the side as my shoe makes impact. That should do the trick, no way in hell he’s getting back up, nor will he try any of this stupid shit ever again either.

In spite of it, I have to drag myself away from keeping at it. It’s just so fucking funny to do shit like this, to just beat the crap out of someone, at the very least making them think this is their last few moments of life. This time it isn’t though, but tomorrow is another day, and I’m sure I’ll kill again.

When I manage to drag myself away from him, I notice that there is still one person hanging around. I thought he would have run off by now, but there he is, skin as black as the sky above us, the Evolved kid. He looks shocked, stunned and terrified all at once.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” I have no idea why I’m apologizing, I did just save his ass after all. “Seemed necessary though.”

“You… You didn’t have to do that,” he stutters, shaking and drawing back slightly.

“I know,” I answer with a shrug. For the briefest of seconds I consider my options: either I go home as I was intending to do, or I do something else entirely. Something I would never do, something so atypical I have no idea why I choose that option. “Want me to walk you home?”

“Uhm… I live right around the corner actually,” he responds, then adds a quiet, “But yeah, that would be nice.”

Leaving the bloody left over mess of a human being behind, we begin walking down the street. No one seems to have noticed what just happened, and I praise myself on using my skills just right. Even the faint whimpers of the guy wash away behind us, fading into the noise of partying high school kids and crackling bonfires.

I’m pretty sure there’s a ton of common necessities I should use to have a simple conversation as we walk, but I’m not used to people, not used to talking at all, except for threatening snippets here and there. Luckily, the Evolved kid knows at least some of them, as he introduces himself, “I’m Shadow, by the way.”

“Michael,” I say, using my actual first name in a long time. Whether or not that’s a clever move, time will tell, but it’s a common name at least. “Shadow’s an odd name, isn’t it?”

“Maybe… It’s not my actual name, just something my mom has always called me. Little Shadow. I grew out the ‘little’ part, once I hit eleven.”

“Then what is your actual name?”

He sighs, he’s considering the question, before finally shaking his head. A half smile crosses his lips. “I’m not gonna tell you that.”

I don’t push the subject any further, just shrug and give him a smile. I rarely smile, not like this at least, and it feels like my face can’t quite figure out which muscles to use. Doesn’t matter though, I’m sure the awkward movement is blocked out by the darkness surrounding scarcely put lampposts.

We turn another corner, and Shadow stops in front of a large building. “This is me,” he says, pointing at the building, “I’d invite you upstairs, but my mom’s probably asleep.”

I nod slowly, thinking over this tiny piece of information. I have no idea what possesses me to say it, but I hear my own voice going, “If you want, you can come to my place? No sleeping parents there, just me.”

He looks at me, a little confused, but there’s something else gleaming within those big orange eyes. Intrigue maybe, a curiosity as to why I’d ask such a question. I’m just as baffled as he is, it’s unlike me to do such a thing. Then again, short of killing someone, this is the most contact I’ve had with another person for the last 16 years. I’ve always been a loner, even back as a kid I didn’t socialize with other people, I always kept to myself, minding my own business.

“Okay,” he says a little hesitatingly, “Okay, I’ll go.”

I’m surprised, who would want to go somewhere with a guy who just beat another guy into a bloody pulp? Well maybe the one he was saving, but still. It’s weird. I try my best not to relay these emotions, shrug and turn around. “This way then.”

***

The first thing that happens as I enter the apartment, is the sound of nails clacking on the wooden floors inside, followed closely by a big fluff ball jumping straight at me. Tofu, my dog, is always happy to see me, doesn’t matter if I’ve been gone for eight hours or eight minutes, she’s always jumping straight into my arms. I pet her, fingers running through thick golden fur, settling myself down next to her to greet her properly. Shadow is standing behind me, still in the doorway, watching the little scene play itself out.

“Well don’t just stand there, get in and say hi,” I half laugh, as Tofu places an extra wet dog-kiss on my cheek. Shadow looks suspicious, eyeing the dog carefully.

“Is she… Is she real?” he asks, and I shake my head and chuckle.

“Yeah. She might just be the only real dog left in this area, but yeah, she’s definitely real.”

He looks surprised, as he sets himself down beside me, the dog jumping in his face, slobbering all over it. He’s equal parts shocked and delighted by Tofu’s enthusiasm, as I get up off the floor, and move myself into the living room. I turn on the light, and the dog lets go of Shadow, so she can follow me closely. I adopted her at a shelter about two months ago, and it was love at first sight for both of us. She practically jumped into my lap when I opened up her cage, and she’s been that way ever since. She jumps up on the couch, and I gently nudge her down again.

“We’ve got company honey, stay on the floor.”

She shoots me a disapproving look, but still saunters down, letting herself lie down on the carpeted floor. Shadow is standing in the doorway, looking curiously at everything. Of course he is, my home is probably nothing like anything he’s ever seen before. All of my furniture are old and weathered, found at thrift stores. The walls are covered in old wallpaper, gray and purple, with little flowers on it. The floors are wooden, at least the parts that aren’t covered in thick purple carpets. There are shelves on the walls, above an old wooden dresser. I try to keep my apartment as low-tech as possible, in fact, my entire life is a lot less advanced than what everybody else’ seem to be. I don’t have a fancy couch that barks at me to sit up straight, and I’d very much like it to stay that way; to just have a regular couch that minds its own fucking business.

He doesn’t comment on it though, instead he sits himself down on my old-fashioned couch, sliding his sock covered feet into a position where they are resting lightly against the edge of the coffee table. I move myself over, flop down next to him, feeling all sorts of awkward. I’m not used to company, no one has ever been inside this apartment, besides me and Tofu. Not even the landlord has stopped by, I slipped him a hundred dollar bill, to persuade him not to.

Now I’m sitting here though, with an Evolved kid named Shadow next to me, looking just as flustered as I feel. Asking him over in the first place may just have been a bad idea, but he breaks the silence, by asking me, “So, do you always get into fights?”

I think about it for a second, trying to weigh my words carefully. “Sometimes yes. Compared to most people, probably a lot. Not very often I do it for anyone else’ sake.”

“So why did you?”

“I dunno, just felt like it I think,” I shrug.

“Felt like saving my sorry ass, or felt like getting into a fight?”

“Probably both.”

It’s true, I did feel like saving him, even if I haven’t got the faintest clue as to why. Right now though, him sitting there on my couch, I somewhat get it. He’s a beautiful creature, to say the least, in his own strange way. His features are delicate, hair the color of silver, and those eyes, those eyes could burn you alive and you would love it, while they did. I’m pretty sure I’m flushing a little at these thoughts, and turn my face towards the table.

“You want some coffee or something?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my own train of thoughts. “Or a beer maybe?”

“You don’t happen to have any wine lying around?”

“I might, not sure though,” I get up, go to the kitchen and rummage around until I find it. An old bottle of white wine, I have zero idea as to why I’ve got in the first place. It seems misplaced in my home, like it’s only supposed to be there for this exact moment. I grab myself a beer out of the fridge, return with that, the bottle and a glass that doesn’t resemble a wine glass the least bit. I hand him the flask, and he looks at it curiously.

“Do you have anything to open it with?” he asks with a small smile. Rummaging around in my pockets I draw forth a pocket knife, a rather large one at that, that includes a decent corkscrew. He opens up the bottle himself, pours a glass and nips at it tentatively.

“How come your parents aren’t home?” Shadow queries, and I shrug in response.

“Don’t have any.”

“You don’t have any parents?”

“Nope. Grew up at an orphanage, never had anything resembling parental figures.”

“Oh. I’m… Sorry?” he phrases it like a question, and I chuckle a little.

“Nothing to be sorry about, you can’t miss what you never had.”

“I guess that’s true. At least I got my mom,” he muses out loud.

“Is your mom a regular human?” I’m not sure I’m supposed to ask that, but it seems to be a general thing with the Evolved, that their parents are regular. He nods, a small smile creeping across his features.

“Yeah, she is. My dad is too, but I don’t know him.”

“Why not?”

“He split when I was little. Couldn’t really handle the whole ‘my kid is Evolved’ thing.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, but it’s okay just being me and my mom. She loves me enough for eight people, I’m sure.”

“So how come she lets you run around at high school parties in the middle of the night?”

“Because she trusts me. She knows I won’t do anything too stupid on my own. Had my best friend there with me too, but she hooked up with some guy I think.”

“So she just bailed on you?”

“Not sure she bailed, as much as I pushed her into his arms.”

I laugh a little, I’m not quite as uncomfortable as I was at first. Slowly loosening up, figuring out how to have a proper conversation, it’s difficult, but I somehow I manage.

***

I don’t notice how long we’ve been sitting there, before he asks me what time it is. Glancing at my watch, I’m a little surprised to see it’s four thirty in the morning.

“Uhm, sure you wanna know that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and double checking that I’m not mistaken. It still says 4:32, October 1st. Well fuck me sideways, I’ve actually managed to communicate with another person for more than three minutes. I tell him what time it is, and he’s as stunned as I am.

“Fuck, well that explains why I’m so tired,” he laughs a little, “I should probably go home and get some sleep.”

It’s another one of those moments where I do something I otherwise never would have done. I like him, he’s an interesting person, and I don’t want him to leave just yet. “Or you can just spend the night here? Pretty long walk home...” I trail off, then add a quick, “I mean if it’s okay with your mom and all.”

He looks at me, surprise and confusion all over his features. I may not be good at communicating with other people, but I sure as hell know how to read them. He wants to stay, I can see as much, but he’s wavering back and forth.

“I’m pretty sure she’s okay with it, if I just send her a text that I’m with a friend.”

A friend. I’m somebody’s friend. The thought of that feels weird, it doesn’t sit right with me, but I’m not about to protest it. He can think of me as a friend if he wants, I’m still not sure what I think of him, at all, except for maybe that I like him. He’s kept me company all night long, doing nothing but talking, and that’s definitely a first.

He pulls out the small device known as a Sense, something I never wanted myself. Pretty sure they track everything you do, a good old cellphone is much easier on my slightly – yet completely justifiably – paranoid mind. He enters a code on the sleek, black device, before it opens up to an entire universe of information. Purple lines appear in thin air, forming a small keyboard and a screen, where the text goes. You can’t really hide a screen like that, even if it is blocked from both sides and behind, I’m sitting right next to him and can see everything he’s writing.

“Hi mom, sleeping at a friend’s house, be home tomorrow.”

Three little dots appear underneath his message, indicating that his mother is texting him back. It makes a small sound, as the new message appears, “Sure honey, don’t forget to wear a condom.” Followed by a tiny heart.

I laugh, this cannot get any more embarrassing for him, and obviously he thinks the same thing. Frantically pushing the close button, the lines collapse into a single bright light, disappearing back into the small oval box.

“Fuck damn it, mom...” he grumbles, not as much as glancing in my direction.

“I like her already,” I say with a wink, only making him all that more flustered.

“Shut up, she’s doing it on purpose.”

I leave it at that, take a last sip of my beer before getting off the couch. Only now do I realize that there’s blood spatters all over my white T-shirt, that damned motherfucker bled all over it. I sigh as I go towards the bathroom, pulling it off simultaneously.

“You can just go lie down in the bedroom, I’ll be in in a sec,” I call out to him, then realizing a second too late, that I am indeed inviting him to stay in my bed. I have a couch, we have spend all night sitting on that couch, why oh why, am I assuming he’ll be sleeping in my bed? Do I even want him to? I’ve never even had company before, and sharing a bed with someone other than the dog, seems as far-fetched as it can get. I stand by it though, it would only make it weirder if I bring up the couch now, so instead I just remove myself to the bathroom, throwing the bloodied up shirt in the hamper.

Standing out there, I try to listen in on what he’s doing, if he is indeed moving towards the bedroom, but I can’t make out the faintest sound. Fucking Evolved creatures, they are different in a lot of ways, and being stealth is one that everybody knows about.

Taking a quick look in the mirror tells me clearly that my shirt wasn’t the only thing getting blood spatters, and I splash some water on my face, rubbing it off with a towel. This sucks, this fucking sucks, either I’m going to come out to a guy looking at me like I’m some sort of maniac for asking him to join me in bed, or I’m coming out to an empty living room, said guy already in my bed. I’m not even sure which is worse, but in the end, I can’t stand around in the bathroom all night long, and as such reenter the living room.

He’s not there. Tofu’s there, lying on the floor with her belly exposed, and I scratch it, barely noticing what I’m doing. I have to go in there, I have to go into the bedroom, and I have to sleep next to him. Either that, or I sleep on the couch myself, but it’s at least half a foot too short to be any kind of comfortable. Nope, not doing that. Besides, that would only make it that much more weird, right?

Slowly and carefully I make my way into the bedroom, and yes, he is lying there in bed, cuddled up underneath a blanket. It’s freezing in here, I’ve got at least a dozen blankets lying around, but he’s only using a single one of them. That makes me think of another question I want to ask him, and as I pull off my clothes, I’m wavering back and forth on whether to do it or not. I eye the bed for one last moment, before crawling into it, covering myself with as much softness and warmth as I can find.

We lie there, completely silent for a moment, before he chuckles out a, “This night has been so fucking weird.”

“No doubt about it, it wasn’t exactly what I expected it to be,” I make a sound, somewhere between laugh and huff, that sounds strange in my own ears. There’s a brief moment of silence, before I work up the nerve. “Can I ask you something?”

“If it’s whether or not I can read minds, then no, I cannot. At least not yet.”

That’s a common thing for people to believe about the Evolved, that they can do all sorts of mind-related things. Dig into our brains, rummage around, controlling it to do their bidding.

It wasn’t what I was going to ask him though, which I point out. “No I was just wondering… I overheard someone saying once, that the Evolved are warmer than regular people. Is that true?”

He looks at me, squinting a little, trying to determine whether or not I’m being serious. Then he pulls his hand from underneath the covers, reaching it out towards me. He doesn’t have to explain what he’s doing, yet he still whispers, “Try and take my hand.”

I do so, our fingers intertwining slowly, carefully, as if both of us are scared that something bad will happen. Nothing does, obviously, we just lie there perfectly still, holding hands.

“So? Am I?” he asks, watching my every move as I shift around a little, still holding on to his hand.

“Yeah, I think so… Probably not the best judge of it though, I don’t have a whole lot of physical contact with other people.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t particularly like other people.”

“I’m people,” he says hesitatingly, a sense of worry to his voice.

“You’re different,” I’m being a little too honest for my own taste.

“Because I’m one of the Evolved?”

“No. You’re just… Different.”

I’m being sincere, in spite of not understanding this one bit myself. He is the exception to the rule, the first person I’ve ever met, who doesn’t seem to get on my nerves. If anything he should have by now, we’ve spend hours together, he should definitely annoy me at this point. He doesn’t though, if anything, I like him. Makes me wonder if I’m being too harsh on people in general, if there might be other people out there, who I might like, if I gave them the time of day. I sincerely doubt it, as people usually bother me within the first five minutes of them existing in my immediate proximity. This is just different, Shadow is just different.

Our hands are still locked together, when he whispers ever so carefully, “You want to know something else about the Evolved?”

“Sure,” I answer, trying to sound light about it, but nowhere near succeeding.

“We sense things better through touch, than sight.”

“How does that make sense?”

“Well for instance, right now I have a clearer picture of what your hand looks like, than your face. Not that you’re all blurred or anything, it’s just that your hand is crystal clear to me, while your face is more of a general knowledge.”

I barely think about it for a second, before I gently move his hand towards my face, letting it find rest on my cheek. He smiles a little, making a soft content sound. Ever so carefully he moves his fingers down my jawline, my cheekbone, even grazing my lips; he’s taking in all of it, eyes half lidded, like he’s in some serene state of discovery. I just lie there, my breath becoming a little more jagged, as he moves his delicate fingers down to my chin, then back up towards my jaw, curling them around my neck.

“What happened to your ear?” he asks quietly. My right earlobe is split in half, something that most people notice the second they lay eyes on me. Must be true what he said then, he really does sense more through touch than anything else.

“I used to have an earring. Got pulled out in a fight though, made me reconsider the whole ‘getting pierced’ idea.” It’s not entirely a lie, even though this fight was probably more of a murder.

He nods slowly, his forehead halfway bumping into mine as he does so. Makes me laugh a little, but I keep my head in place, let him lean his against mine. It is both nerve wrecking and calming to have him this close, but I think I might like it. His skin is soft, the tips of his fingers still resting on my face, at the spot where jaw meets ear. Foreheads pushed together, we are breathing the same air, and there’s only a snippet of free space between our lips. Slowly he drags me in a little closer, I barely even notice it, before our lips meet.

The first kiss is so soft, it’s barely even a kiss. Just two sets of lips, grazing one another, tentatively and carefully, like neither knows if it’s the right thing to do. I try to pull myself away from him, try to wrap my mind around what’s happening right now, but my instincts tell me otherwise, and instead I move in a little closer, kissing him a little deeper. There’s an explosion in my mind, and all that’s left behind is absolute bliss. I can’t stop, if anything, the kissing grow more intense, more saturated and more real.

He moves his hand from my face, slowly sliding it down to my collarbone, fingers curling around the T-shirt I’m wearing. Mimicking his move, I feel breathless as his arm snakes underneath mine and find rest on my back. At first he keeps it on top of the shirt, but as passion starts to rise, he pulls at the hem and gets it underneath.

His fingers are pulsating warmth against my skin, like five points of heat rummaging across every inch of my body. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I push myself up against him, chests bumping together a little too forcefully. I’ve never done anything remotely like this before, up until half an hour ago I never even held someone’s hand. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, but I can’t stop.

My hands move again, finding way to silvery hair, digging into it and pulling him in closer. It’s a move done a little too forcefully, and our teeth bump together, but it doesn’t matter in the moment. Adjusting the angle slightly, his tongue pushes through, exploring my mouth. Darting in and out, we fumble our way through french kissing, a little sloppy, but perfect none the less.

It’s pure bliss when he pulls at my waist, our hips meeting in the middle, grinding up against one another. I have no idea how far I’m willing to push this, but my brain has shut itself off, only movement and lust left. Hands back on my chest, he pushes at me gently, and I pull him in closer. Not an inch of space left between us, I slowly roll onto my back, pulling him with me. He’s on top of me, bending forward to kiss me over and over again. His hands are firmly placed right below each of my ears, fingers long enough to pull at the back of my head, drawing me towards him.

We’re just a couple of teenage boys, I doubt that neither of us have any kind of experience, but the only way to gain that kind of thing in this aspect is by just doing. I think I want to, I’m wavering back and forth, and in the end I just pull him in a little closer.

“Got any of those things your mom suggested?” I whisper, my voice sounding raspy and off, like it’s somewhere in another dimension. His eyes widen, and I can’t figure out if I pushed it too far. If I did, it’s going to get awkward as fuck, and I quickly add a flustered, “I mean, if you want to!”

“I… I do. I think I do,” he sounds just as wavering as I feel. “Just… Promise me you’ll stop me if I go too far, okay?”

I nod, “If you promise to do the same.”

We move further, I’m still unsure as to whether it’s a good idea or not, but we do none the less. Maybe it’s too quick, hooking up with a guy I’ve known for six or seven hours, but it feels right in spite of it.

He bends down, still perched on top of me, tugs off my T-shirt and runs his hands along my chest and sides. I shudder as he does, all thoughts of moving too quickly torn out of my mind, as I pull him down for another kiss. His hair falls down his shoulders, tickling my face, and I laugh a little. This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever gotten myself into, something I’ve never expected to happen at all. Not being a people person always made me think I wouldn’t get to do certain things, this being at the top of the list. I’ve always been okay with that, thinking it just wasn’t in the cards for someone like me, but actually doing it switches everything around. I do want it, if anything, I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted before, I want him.

His hands have found way to the band of my sweatpants and boxers, and he shoots me a questioning look, waiting for my approval. I nod, too out of breath to give any kind of verbal confirmation. Arching my back to lift slightly off the bed, he pulls the last pieces of clothing off me. He’s still wearing his underwear, making me feel exposed and nervous, so I tug at them. He needs to readjust himself to get them off, but he succeeds, even if it is a series of awkward movements.

There we are, two naked boys, grinding up against one another, and I’m trying to will myself into not coming right then and there. Throbbing hard, rubbing up against him, I can feel his erection being just as prominent as my own.

Suddenly he realizes that the condoms are somewhere else entirely, “Fuck, let me just go get them,” he breathes, and I nod a little too eagerly. It gives an annoying break in what we’re doing, as he disappears into the living room, but he comes back quickly, falling straight back into the motions of kissing me deeply. “You sure you want this?” the words come out staggered.

“Yes,” I don’t even have to think about it anymore, this can’t be stopped now, I don’t want it to.

Getting on a condom is apparently a much harder thing than one would think. He fumbles with it, and the damned thing breaks on the first try. He swears as he pulls out another, this time succeeding at sliding it on. He sighs heavily, and I can’t determine whether it’s with pleasure or satisfaction of making it this far.

“Wait, have you done this before?” he says quietly, an oddly concerned look in his burning eyes. I shake my head, and he looks relieved. “Me neither.”

It makes me glad too, that I’m not the only one fumbling through this, that we are on equal grounds, completely inexperienced.

The downside of not having done this before is the lack of certain items, the main one being lube. I’m pretty sure I’ve got something lying around that could substitute for it, like Vaseline or something like that, but I don’t want to break the moment just to go get it. Instead I tell him to just be a careful, and he nods, even if he does look a little afraid. I give him a reassuring smile, I think it’s the right thing to do, and no fucking way I’m turning back on my decision now.

He shuffles down a little, one hand delicately brushing over my cock, trying to figure out how much pressure to put into it. I immediately push up against his hands, it’s not even a controlled motion, it’s one of those things where nothing can be too much. It encourages him to move forward, his fingers curling around it, making little swift motions up and down. I struggle to get my hand near his dick, but in this position it’s difficult, and my fingers barely brush against it. It doesn’t seem to matter much though, he still winces at the motion, breathing shallow and intense. He keeps at it for a moment, and I have to grab onto his hand to make him stop.

“If you keep that up, I’m gonna be done within the next four seconds,” I whisper, a little laugh escaping.

It’s true, I’m dripping pre-cum, and I’ve never been this hard before. No matter how many times I’ve done something like this on my own, it just doesn’t compare to this, at all. He nods slowly, moves his hand away, directing it at other places entirely. Ever so carefully he probes at me, nothing happening at first, followed closely by a burning sensation. I shiver, the feeling running through every fiber of my being, as he pushes in a finger. It’s a feeling, somewhere between pleasure and pain, when he slides in another.

“Try to relax,” he breathes, placing little kisses on my lips and neck.

I nod, even though I’m not sure it’s even a possibility. I try to make my body go limp, but to no avail, the second he moves his hand again, I tense right back up. It’s not a bad thing, and watching the fire burning brightly in his eyes, makes it all the better.

When he pulls out his fingers, it leaves a void inside of me, one I didn’t knew existed. It’s only there for a second though, as he moves around a little, trying to get the right angle to get his dick inside of me. Fumbling and slowly he succeeds, and the feeling of it is entirely different from just fingers. He is a lot bigger, and even though he’s going slow, it still sends an almost searing sensation all the way through my body. I buckle up against him, I have no control left over my body, and I pant heavily as he makes the first careful moves. In spite of the pain, I grab onto his hips and pull him in closer, making him gasp for more. It seems impossible how good it feels when he hits the right spot, and I’m just about to come right then and there. He groans a little, as he moves his hips back and forth, leaning forward and kissing me at the same time. It’s intense, nerve wrecking and amazing all at once, and when he succeeds at grabbing a hold of my dick while moving inside of me, I can’t hold back a loud moan of pleasure.

From that moment on, it takes maybe all of five minutes before I come, a sensation so deep and different from anything I have ever tried before. I spill into his hand, all over my stomach, it seems to be everywhere. I don’t give a fuck if I make a mess, it’s the furthest thing from my mind, as he makes another thrust forward. It feels a little more painful now, and I clench up, pushing him over the edge of intense orgasm.

For a second he stays put, perched over me, looking down at me with slight worry painted across his features. Now I’m terrified, as little as I know about having sex, is nothing compared to what you do afterwards. When he reaches down, grabs a hold at the back of my neck with one hand, and pulls me in for another deep kiss, I feel a rush of relief. He still wants to kiss me, the act itself is over, and he still wants to kiss me.

He winces as he pulls out, a brief look of discomfort crossing his face. I don’t feel all too comfortable myself, it hurts now, a lot actually. He flops down next to me, lying flat on his back, before removing the condom. For a second I just lie there, not knowing what to do with any of this, before he props himself up on one arm and reaches out for me.

“Hey...” he whispers, and he sounds nervous, “You okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah I think so.”

“Good,” he smiles a little, then reaches in and plants yet another kiss on my lips. I lean into it, making it deeper and more intense.

“You think maybe we should get a little sleep?” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure that’s what I want. He nods slowly, kisses me again, then lets himself slide back down on the bed. He pulls the blanket over him, then scoots in a little closer, before he wraps his arm around me. It feels perfect, as if everything that happened tonight, was exactly what was supposed to happen. The last thought that runs through my mind before drifting off, is that I want to stay like this forever, just kissing and fucking, for all eternity.