Fleur-de-lis

John 8:7

The pic above is Azazel.

Vanitas' p.o.v.

I walk out of the bar into the cool night air. I really should have brought a jacket. I was in a tight sleeveless shirt that made me look...questionable. I mean, I haven't the slightest idea why I was wearing something like this. Come to think of it. Why was I at a bar in the first place? Before I could ponder the question any longer I hear someone exit the bar behind me.

The air suddenly reached frigid temperatures and a tenebrous darkness envelopes everything behind him and I. I couldn't see it but I felt it. Felt as if I'd be erased from existence should I fall into its dark grasp. And the man himself was giving off a really ravenous atmosphere. I'm struck with sudden fear but maintain my cool. I calmly start walking away. Maybe I could just sneak away if I didn't act like frightened prey.

I get about a yard away and I start to get confident that my plan is working until I hear disturbingly aesthetic footsteps echoing my own. Regardless, I maintain my pace with the confidence that our paths would split. I can feel the darkness also chasing behind us...erasing where we've been.

A hand.

Again, I don't see it but I felt his hand try to reach out and grab me, sending shivers down my spine. I start to walk faster and as soon as I rounded a corner, out of his line of site I run for it.

I could still feel his presence, longing and yearning for me. I wanted to vomit. I screw up and turn into an alleyway, trapping myself. By the time I turn around to escape, the man is already there, the veil of shadows following closely behind him. His face is overshadowed so it was impossible to make out any details. All I could see was that he appeared much taller and stronger than me. As he closes in on me the darkness erases the world behind him. Once he's only a rulers length from me, we only had about a few square feet of alleyway.

My heart is pounding in my chest as if it were trying to punch its way out. The man takes it upon himself to pin my wrists to the wall above my head. I struggle but his grip was something supernatural.

"HELP!" I call out but there was no one around to hear me.

With his free hand the man strokes my cheek in a possessive manner.

"Stop!" I plead as I jerk my head away from his hand.

This doesn't discourage him so his hand continues to wander up my shirt and my heart starts to beat even faster. This was so wrong I was getting sick to my stomach. I kept trying to wiggle free but to no avail. The man's hands eventually found their way to my belt.

"No! Please, please stop!" I say trying to catch my breath from all the struggling.

The man doesn't appear to care and continues to unbuckle my belt. Eventually my pants drop to my ankles and I'm left standing in my boxers. My face turns bright red in embarrassment. To further this, the man begins to lift my shirt up and leaves it covering my head with my arms in the air, still pinned to the wall.

Now I couldn't see which made the fear in my chest rise even more. I gasp suddenly at the feeling of curious fingers around my rear. I start to feel myself regrettably getting aroused and couldn't help but curse myself for doing so.

"Oh fuck." I unintentionally breath out as I feel the man grinding his own erection against mine. I bite my lip as I start to feel pressure build up. Everything starts to spin in my confusion and despair.

I gasp a sharp intake of air as my eyes open to the view of my room's ceiling. "Shit." I whisper to myself as I slowly sit up in my bed. I'd ruined my sheets again. I was starting to get fearful that there was something seriously wrong with me. I mean what normal person had wet dreams where they're forced into sex against their will by a person of the same gender. I'm not even a fag...I mean... I made the obvious choice not to be because I don't want to spend eternity in hell fire like my parents say fags do.