Hell on Earth (Boyxboy)

Chapter 23: Pain

23

Present

Joseph kept pinching the inside of his arm.

Last thing I want to do is fall asleep around whatever this... thing... is.

It had been a couple hours since Joseph had hitched a ride. The guy introduced himself as Riley, and made awkward small talk with the linguist, going on about his small ranch on the outskirts of town, and how he adored literature, and had been out this way because of his job. Something to do with weather forecasting... etc.

Joseph was exhausted. He could barely see straight. So he kept pinching himself.

A soft silence fell upon the car as the radio droned on in the background. Joseph glanced over at the inhuman every now and again, only to be met with an unreadable face, and an unreadable species.

What is it?

Joseph raked his sad amount of knowledge when it came to the inhuman.

A demon, maybe?

No.

A demon would've dragged Joseph back to.. He shuddered, involuntarily, rubbing his hip tenderly. Not a demon. It didn't know who Joseph was, so it probably wasn't a god-thingy, either.

But he's got like, godly features. Thought the linguist, frowning and turning to watch the desert landscape roll by. Joseph strained his foggy mind to think of what else Aziz, or the Supervisor, had mentioned was real...

Magiks?

Is it a Magik?

I wonder if it's dangerous...

Joseph sighed, these thoughts all muddling in his wretched mind, mixed with worry for Aziz, of that creature that marked him, and that demon king... It all faded as Joseph slowly let his lids sink.

I'll rest my eyes just for a minute...

***

Riley watched the human sleep. He wasn't sure what urge had overcome his self control when he moved to pick the man- boy, really- up. Maybe pity. Or maybe some deeper sense about the kid. He reminded Riley of somebody else... Somebody long gone.

The creature sighed, then looked from the frail, sleeping human (who had suspicious bruises and deep, purple circles under his eyes) back out to the long, winding road.

***

Aziz threw open his rented house's door, lugging the now-limp Fae (who had unceremoniously passed out) into the simplistic, mud and concrete building. He lazily- and still somewhat irritated- dropped the kid onto the bed, finding some rope in order to tie the Fae's hands together, and to the bedpost.

Last thing I want is him running.

The afrit moved around, closing and locking the windows and doors of the relatively small building. It was by no means a permanent residency, and therefore was sparingly decorated with only the essentials, and merely consisting of a bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen area.

Aziz busied himself with preparing some food for the fae. Then stopped.

Why am I even bothering feeding it?Why did I even bring it home?

Aziz shook his head. I'm going crazy. This is so absurd.

He sighed, his mind split, and leaned against the counter, rubbing his face. He had no clue what he was doing.