Malicious Intent (Soulscape #5)

CH 37

Where the fuck am I?

Dean hugged his gut and scooted up against the wall, glancing frantically up and down the corridor. Filth and debris littered the hallway, the numerous doors corroded with rust and grime. He looked up at Zeke Matthews. "What... what the fuck did you do to me?"

The queer stared down at him, emotionless. "I told you I had better secrets."

"What're you talking about? Where are we?"

Zeke sank to his heels and this time when Dean looked into his dark eyes, he was more than just creeped out. The black irises churned and shifted... as if he were staring through a portal to hell. Dean's blood ran cold, and he recoiled, pressing against the wall.

"I told you where we were," Zeke spoke low, toneless. "We're... here." He poked Dean in the forehead, then gestured to the corridor. "This filth and corrosion... is your mind. And behind those doors..." he swept his hand outward, "... are your twisted memories and sick fantasies. You and Randall shared a lot of memories and fantasies." The young man leaned closer, and Dean flinched. "But not once did he fantasize about fucking you. That fantasy is all your own."

Dean turned his head away, shaking. "Shut up," he whimpered. "I-I never wanted to fuck him!"

"You have an entire wing in your head reserved for that one fantasy," Zeke murmured. "One room could not contain it."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" Dean cried.

"Deep in the recesses of his mind," Zeke whispered coldly, "Randall knew what you were... and he hated you for it."

"You're lying!"

Zeke smiled without a shred of humor. "You're wrong about the sheriff. He didn't kill Randall. I was with Randall that night. He did fuck me like I told you, and he did tell me all his dirty little secrets... like you're telling me now."

Dean trembled, eyes watery. "You... you killed him."

"I freed his conscience... that's all." Zeke looked around. "But there's something more deadly than a guilty conscience lurking behind one of your doors... isn't there?" Zeke stood. "Don't worry... I'll find it." He grabbed Dean and hauled him to his feet with incredible strength. "You lead the way." He shoved Dean forward, nearly sending him to the floor again. Dean caught his footing and managed to stay upright.

This can't be real... he drugged me... or something.

Zeke Matthews chuckled, causing gooseflesh to prickle Dean's skin. "We're inside your mind, asshole. You can't hide your thoughts." He clutched the back of Dean's neck, fingers gouging in, and hissed, "This is as real as it gets."

• • •

"You've hardly touched your meal," Dennis said.

Frank stared at his plate with zero appetite. Why had he agreed to this? Or had he? Looking back, it seemed Alec had somehow gotten him out of the house without his full consent. "I'm sorry." He glanced at the other men. "I'm just not hungry."

"Zeke is an intelligent young man," Dennis said. "He'll be all right. And I really don't think anyone will come to your house."

"I know you're probably right." Frank sighed. "I guess I've just developed a habit of worrying about him."

Ron sipped his wine. "Has he given you cause to worry in the short time you've known him?"

Frank was referencing Alec. He tended to forget that, to others, he and "Zeke" hadn't been together long. "No," he murmured. "Apparently, it's my nature to worry."