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dreams

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Alastor

He's kissing me. Angel Dust, the broken, traumatized, abused demon, is kissing me. And it feels... nice. He pulls away. "I gotta go," he says, voice uneven. "I have work in 20 minutes." 

I nod, disappointed and angry at Valentino for constantly stealing my beloved from me. 

I clench my fists as he slips out the door, the rage boiling, boiling, boiling- 

I wake up. 

Lay there, shaking. What was that?! Surely a mistake. I haven't felt that way about anyone in a long time... and last time I did, it didn't end well. 

I tune myself to a love song blues station, listening until I fall asleep to the scratchy music. 

Ben sits cradled in my arms, bloody and wheezing. "It was worth it, every minute," he manages to push out of his mouth. "Stop," I say, laying a finger to his lips. "You're hurt, my love." 

He laughs raggedly. "No shit. I'll be alright.." he trails off. I force him to look at me, holding his face as gently as possible. "Please, Ben," I beg. "I can't lose you so soon. Not so soon," I say. 

His hand, already growing cold, brushes against my face. "I have no choice, darling. You're so beautiful, Anthony. I think I may have loved you..." 

And with that, he's gone. 

And all I'm holding is a corpse. 

"No, Ben, NO!" I scream. 

An hour later, tearstained and broken, I finish burying him, marking his grave with a crocus bloom. Then, filled with the spirit of vengeance, I go to find the person who killed one of the two people I ever loved.

He's in his house, drinking a glass of whiskey. I sneak around to the back of the house and prepare to enter, but something tells me to try the doorknob. It's open. I creep into the house, weapon behind my back, adrenaline powering me. 

I sit behind the doorway to the kitchen, waiting. Minutes tick by. Finally, I hear a chair scrape against the floor and tense. 

This is for Ben. 

He walks closer, closer, closer. 

He passes the doorway and I lunge. He screams. Glass shatters. And then I have him pushed against the wall, my knife to his throat. 

"What did I do?!" he screams. 

I dig the knife deeper and a bit of blood spurts out, hitting my cheek right next to my mouth. "You killed him," I growl. "You killed Ben!" I scream his name and the man flinches. But then a slow smile spreads across his face. 

"You mean the faggot?" he asks. I can actually feel my blood boil. "What did you just call him?" I snarl. He goes white. My hands are shaking, fueled by adrenaline and rage and sorrow. "WHAT DID YOU CALL HIM?" I scream, shaking him a bit. 

"Faggot," the man says, regaining his tongue. "Just like you are," he grins, blood leaking through his teeth as I push the blade of my knife deeper. "Have fun in Hell," he wheezes. 

I'd had enough. I slice the knife into the muscle and skin of his throat. He howls, gushing blood onto me. "You bastard, you whore, you're going to pay-" 

His eyes mist, suddenly devoid of life. I let go of him and he slides to the floor, making a streak of blood as he slides down. My tongue darts out and licks the blood off the corner of my mouth. It tastes... good. I back away, suddenly fearful of what I might be. Of what I could be. 

Embrace it, whispers a voice inside me. Let the beast out.

"What beast?" I ask, looking around fearfully. 

The one inside.

I touch my cheek, fingers coming away spackled with blood. I lick them clean without even thinking about it. Suddenly, I feel myself growing taller. "What's happening?!" I say out loud to no one. My clothes stretch. I look down and see hooves, and long skinny legs. I stretch my hands out and they're humanoid, but painfully long and thin, with claws at each fingertip.

With a painful screech, I explode from my clothes, my contorted body growing bigger and bigger. I feel fur growing along my shoulders and down to my hooves. A tail sprouts. 

I whirl around. "What's going on?!" I try to scream, but instead, only a guttural roar emits from my mouth. I tromp through the house, each step thundering through the house, in search of a mirror, but I hear sirens. 

His neighbors must have called the police. 

Panicked, I snatch him and my clothes up, tearing out of the back door with long, galloping strides into the woods. Wind whistles through something on my head- antlers? 

I see a puddle and veer towards it. I lean forwards and look in, afraid of what I'll see. 

Ben blinks back. "What've they done to you?" he whispers. Suddenly, the puddle turns to blood, Ben vanishes, and I wake up in a cold sweat, staring at the charred ceiling in the hotel.

That was the first night in decades that I've cried.

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