Dark Soul (SoulScape #1)

CH 6

2 Years Later

NEBRASKA STATE PENETENTARY

Chuck Weslow came to with a suddenness that rattled his pulse.

A myriad of blurred faces swam before him. He stared at them until the haze dissipated and the faces were in focus. "Shelly?" he whispered uncertainly.

A frown pinched his brow as he stared at his wife through a large pane of glass. Behind her, strangers were settling into chairs. "Why, Chuck?" she mouthed silently through the glass.

Chuck went to reach out to her –and realized he couldn't move.

He looked down at the thick leather straps securing his arms and legs. Something –an electrode, he thought –was attached to his leg. As he raised his eyes slowly to his wife's damp face, hands were forcing him back against the heavy oak chair and a metal cap was pressed down over his shaven scalp.

"Oh God –no!" The protest was ignored as a band was placed over his eyes and his wife's face was eternally replaced by darkness. He knew the purpose of the band –it was to keep his eyes from bursting when the 2,500 volts boiled his brain.

A hand squeezed his shoulder with sudden familiarity. "How ya holdin' up, Chuck?" A voice murmured with dark amusement. "Comfy? Damn sweet reward, don't ya think, for those monsters who rape and murder little children?" The hand loosened then patted his shoulder like an old friend. "Told ya I'd introduce you to Ole Sparky –and Alec Strom never goes back on his word."

Terror coiled around Chuck Weslow and stabbed through him in the form of a 2,500 volt of electricity. His body convulsed and strained outward against the thick straps as smoke poured out from under the metal skull cap and beneath the face mask, and the scent of his own burning flesh invaded his nostrils.

The last sound he heard before the second surge of electricity stilled his erratic heart, was the bones of his fingers snapping as the deadly currents sought an escape.

........................

Donald Hoyt left the prison an hour following the execution of Chuck Weslow, went home to his apartment, shed his guard's uniform, took a shower and shaved. Afterwards, he dressed in black slacks and a matching black button shirt, ran a comb through his short blond hair and splashed on some musk cologne.

He stood before the mirror, his naturally blue/gray eyes now staring back at him dark as night. "Don't worry, my friend," he murmured. "You'll have your body back by morning, good as new." He smiled. "Your ass may be a bit sore, but you'll live."

The nearest gay strip club was less than thirty minutes away and Donald entered with a mission. He wasn't particular tonight and solicited the first dancer he encountered with the promise of enough cash to coax the young man back to his apartment.

They weren't in the apartment five minutes before the young man was on his knees, swallowing Donald's cock. Once good and hard, Donald bent him over the end of the bed and fucked him until the kid was screaming in ecstasy and taking Donald's full load.

He pulled out and smacked the dancer's ass hard enough to leave a hand print. "Now you fuck me." He crawled onto the bed and gave his ass to the kid. He was a lovely boy –dark hair, dark eyes, slim, lean body...reminiscent of Alec Strom.

A low grunt stuck in his throat as the young dancer shoved his impressive cock into his ass and fucked him like a pro.

He closed his eyes and smiled. He missed Alec Strom. Maybe when he took the kid's body for his own...he would reclaim the name Alec as well.

Surely that would please the doc when he returned home for a long overdue visit.

(to be continued...)