Story of Sebastian

The Story of Sebastian, Chap Five

The Story of Sebastian

Chapter Five:

Sebastian groaned and tried to roll over. He wasn’t sure what was holding him on his back, but he was sure the nightmare he’d just had sucked. Big time. He opened his eyes and blinked to adjust to the daylight. Sebastian figured he was probably tangled in the sheets again. He tried once again to roll and failed, although the sound of metal grinding was an ominous sign.

His eyes finally adjusted, Sebastian took in the sight around him. He was surrounded by cement walls and lots of chains. Instinct overrode the panic at realizing last night was definitely not a nightmare. There was light in the room, but not enough to see in the far corners. He stayed still in case he was being watched, only his eyes examining the room.

There wasn’t much to see. He guessed by the height of the window he was in a basement but couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t at an angle to see anything out of it that would give any clues. He could be in a fucking penthouse for all he knew. The chains were solid and thick, pinning him to a thin mattress on the floor. At least his capture had thought to make him comfortable.

Having surveyed the room, Sebastian took inventory of his body. The room wouldn’t be much help so his body would have to be okay. He wiggled his toes, fingers, and everything else as unnoticeably as possible. Since no one had come out of the shadows yet, he slowly lifted his head and stared at his chest.

“What the fuck?” he muttered the question.

There was still a large bloodstain spread across his chest, directly over his heart. If he could have moved his hands, Sebastian was sure he could put a finger directly through the hole on his shirt and feel skin. He’d been shot… that fucker Paul had shot him in the chest. And, Sebastian knew he’d died. He’d felt the world grow dark and empty. He’d felt everything slide into nothing. Yet, here he was staring at the proof that he should be dead.

It also meant Dubhan was still locked away in a masochist’s dungeon.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” He shouted, raging against his chains.

The shadow in the corner of the room shifted and formed into a tall, slender man. It was Paul and the asshole had a gigantic grin planted on his pale face.

“Welcome to undead servitude,” Paul bowed. “And, I own you now. Sorry about your luck.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth and fought harder against the chains. He was going to tear the motherfucker limb from limb with his bare hands. As he fought, he became aware of a sharp ache in each shoulder blade. He stilled and wondered just what had happened to him. Undead?

Paul wiggled a few things from his hands. “You’re not going anywhere. I have this, I own you now.”

“You confuse me with someone who knows what’s going on,” he gritted back, trying to decipher what the jerk was holding.

Paul looked stunned. “You have no idea?” Sebastian shook his head. “Really?” Now Paul looked disappointed. “No matter. You’ll still be my own little angel of death and destruction.”

“I don’t know what drugs you’re on, but you need counseling…”

Paul knelt down and stared him in the eye. Unfortunately, it brought him close enough that Sebastian could make out the individual black feathers arranged on the wings that he held in his hand. Shit, there was a strong possibility the ass was telling the truth.

“Oh the fun we’re going to have, you and I,” Paul laughed wickedly.

Somehow, Sebastian was sure he was going to disagree.