Dead Bite: An Undead Story 53

Dead Bite: An Undead Story 53

So his lover had come.  His EX-lover.  Or soon-to-be.

Matt waited for Jorel’s light tap on the door, an almost invisible sensation to him, but his hand was already on the knob.  The door swung open to reveal a smiling Italian face, but the grin quickly faded as Jorel realized that Matt was not happy.

The teenager glared at his boyfriend, slamming the door shut and relishing in the action.  He knew that Jorel would be pleading on the other side, imploring for an answer to this unexpected greeting.  One of the benefits of being deaf was that you didn’t have to listen to bullshit like this.  Matt scribbled hurriedly on a piece of paper and slipped it through the mail slot.

Jorel would be reading, [Fuck off.  I don’t want to see you ever again.]

Satisfied, the curly-haired boy returned to his bed, throwing his covers up over his head.  Although he was the one to break it off, why did his heart hurt so much?  Matt started to bury his face into his pillow when he felt a ripple on his blanket.

Bolting upright, Matt sat face-to-face with Jorel.  Even though Jorel’s countenance was wicked, Matt detected the glimmer of tears on the edges of his eyelids.  Jorel was obviously hurt, but he was veiling it.

[How did you get in here?]

Jorel ignored him.  He wrote instead, [Why are you breaking up with me?]

So, he didn’t know.  Nevertheless…[You fucking lied to me.  Practically!  By not saying anything.  You’re boyfriend visited me, and he showed me things.  Things about him…about you!  What the fuck are you?]

Matt already knew; the monster that had come to him before had not left after he had gone inside.  Instead it had seemed to change its form to look more human, and it had entered his room.  It had asked him if he had questions, and Matt did not know what to think of it all.  The monster called itself George, and really, after transforming, it could hardly be called a monster at all.  The George part was very beautiful.  Matt felt that somehow it was heaven and hell all rolled into one.  And it made it extremely clear that Jorel was its.

[George has been here?] Jorel scribbled.  Matt nodded, and in response, Jorel hurled the notebook against the wall with such force it left a mark.  The lover scooped it up and continued, [There is nothing between me and George anymore.  We haven’t been active lovers in ages.  And the other thing…I was going to tell you.  I swear.  I just wanted to be sure--]

[Sure of what?!]

Jorel looked down, swallowing hard.  He put his pen down and took Matt’s face in his hands, holding him still so that they were staring at each other.  He mouth out three words that Matt had never seen before, and he knew exactly what they were.  He felt his stomach sink.

With an unsteady hand, Jorel wrote, [What I am…that’s a lot to take in for humans.  Believe me, I thought of telling you several times, but what if you didn’t want me anymore?  I’m not exactly the most level-headed person.]  Jorel forced a weak smile.  [You do want me still, right?]

Here Matt was in a dilemma beyond comprehension.  Jorel and his boyfriend and probably that guy who had threatened him - they were all some kind of supernatural beings, like some crap from a comic book.  And one of these beings was in love with him.

It was all too much to take in.

[I need time to think.]

Joer’ls expression was utter pain as if Matt had stabbed him in the side.  He got up slowly from the bed, embarrassed now to be there.  Before he left, Matt put out a hand to stop him.

[What exactly are you?  I mean, why is your kind here?]

They both knew what the answer would be, something that Matt did not want to hear (as the expression goes), and so Jorel just bent into Matt, leaving him with a kiss that tasted of hurt and duplicity.  And this strange demon disappeared into the kiss, dematerializing under what seemed to be the weight of Matt’s sealed lips.

Standing in the dark, Matt considered the recent events.  It was all as if he were in a dream, but George, the nightmarish cambion, had assured him he wasn’t.

It still remained to be determined why George had visited him, or why the sunglassed man had come before.  A foreboding in his gut told him that these people, if they were actually people, were warning him of some travesty to come.

Despite their admonitions, Matt was as attracted to Jorel as ever.  Only he didn’t know why.  His Italian lover was a liar, a philanderer, and possibly an even more evil than those.  And George had told Matt that the glimpse of the fiery Jorel was his true self.

Ah, yes, then there was this newcomer George.  He was horrific and yet enticing.  Plus he was completely truthful with the teenager.  Matt had the feeling that he was at once manipulating him and courting him.  Not an unhappy thought.  But why was he so interesting to these people?  He was just a high-school dropout, a pizza driver, a bum.

There were so many unanswered questions.