I’m Not Alone Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/73003666. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: No I'm not a Human (Video Game) Relationship: Pale Visitor | Intruder/Protagonist (No I'm not a Human) Characters: Luka | Cheerful Man (No I'm not a Human), Yesenin | Bar Guy (No I'm not a Human), Runaway Teenager (No I'm not a Human), Kindergarten Teacher (No I'm not a Human), Little Girl | Neighbor's Daughter (No I'm not a Human), Stoner (No I'm not a Human), Protagonist (No I'm not a Human), Pale Visitor | Intruder (No I'm not a Human) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, References to Depression, Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Lovers, Blood and Injury, Happy Ending, Animal Death, Internalized Homophobia, Literal Sleeping Together, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Drunken Kissing, Biting, Frottage, Size Difference Language: English Stats: Published: 2025-10-23 Updated: 2026-04-09 Words: 191,799 Chapters: 10/?
I’m Not Alone by Whimsicalwyvern Summary After two months of hiding it seems the sun is finally returning to normal and the visitors, unable to handle the temperature change, are rapidly dying off. With it being safe to return outside the homeowner’s guests set out to return to their lives. For the first time since the “apocalypse” he finds himself alone and oddly enough the man finds that he no longer enjoys the solitude that he once craved. Eager for something familiar, he decides to open his home to guests again. The homeowner quickly learns to be careful what you wish for when a familiar pale visitor returns, this time as his new roommate. — A Palegun fic where they end up as roommates. Intruder regresses to a more human-like state as it gets colder, and becomes more monstrous as it warms up (Infection goes dormant and flares up based on temperature). Notes Big thanks to my buddy SoupSalad for beta reading. My goal is a chapter or two a week. Enjoy! Hey everyone thanks for reading! I’m new to sharing my writing so this is a little nerve wracking for me but I hope you all enjoy. Kudos and comments are very appreciated! Feedback really helps with my confidence, and I really want to improve and I think this might be a good way. I plan to update the tags as the fic goes on, but please please be aware there will be smut (probably several chapters) so I wouldn’t read if you don’t like the ship. See the end of the work for more notes
Chapter 1: The End? It was finally over. Scientists had determined that not only was it safe to go outside during daylight, but that the visitors had died off as well, unable to survive the dropping temperatures. He gripped the radio with white knuckles as cheers from the others rang out around him. Even though the noise was deafening, he could barely register their presence. All he could feel was… Disappointment? It had never occurred to him that this would end. That he would survive. His fingers trembled at the thought that he could live another year. Maybe even another decade. Dread consumed him, sitting like a heavy stone in his stomach. A firm slap on his shoulder forced the man to wrench himself from his somber thoughts. The bar guy, Yesenin, was grinning down at him, eyes shining bright. It was the happiest he’d ever seen him. He realized the tall man’s mouth was moving. Forcing himself to focus he caught the end of the sentence. ”No more FEMA! No more visitors! We did it! We survived!” Yesenin was still shaking him ecstatically. He tried to force a smile, the best he could do was a grimace. Thankfully that must have been a normal enough reaction from the homeowner because he was already turning and gripping the cheerful man by the shoulders. The two were practically jumping up and down like two overgrown children. ”Hey old man.” He turned towards the young teen who seemed to be trying to avoid being trampled by the others. She lifted one eyebrow and cocked her head. “You okay?” She must misread something in his eyes and hesitantly grabs his calloused hand. “If they’re all dead then that means…” She pauses, eyes shifting to the floor for a moment. “That pale weirdo’s gone now. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” She gives his hand a little squeeze. He stares at her for a few moments before giving a jerky nod and an awkward thumbs up. She wasn’t a touchy person, especially with her past. But there were many nights where she had been there when the pale man had visited. Her habit of staying up at night had unfortunately made her aware of a different horror than abusive father’s, FEMA agents, or a possibly exploding sun. She had seen the bodies littered in the yard from his killings, heard his eerie voice through the door, and seen his haunting smile through the windows. On those nights she would seek out the homeowner, clinging to his side shaking. She was a strong girl, a hell of a lot stronger than most. She had been through enough, she deserved peace. Better not to worry the poor girl. He should be happy like everyone else. No one needed to know how fucked up he was. *** It only took a week for the last person to leave his home. Yesenin and the cheerful man, Luka, had left as soon as they were able, both wishing the homeowner well and thanking him for everything. It was awkward for him, he didn’t feel like he did enough to deserve it. When the world went to shit he didn’t rush to anyone’s aid, he just hid behind his front door with a gun like a coward. He did the bare minimum and allowed a handful of people inside. But even then he couldn’t even protect them properly. He had made mistakes, gotten innocent
people killed by visitors. And the worst sin of all: he stood there and allowed FEMA to take the neighbor’s daughter. It was his greatest regret. Her screams will haunt him for the rest of his days. Both Yesenin and Luka took his phone number with promises to keep in touch. He didn’t believe them. Stand Up guy and Widowed Woman left next followed by the Stoner; the latter he was happy to see go, hoping that his house would stop reeking of weed in his absence. He was surprised when the teenager wanted to go with the kindergarten teacher. ”I’ll look after her, I promise,” the woman had told him. They had grown close during their stay in his house. The teen had brought comfort to the tortured woman just as the teacher provided stability and understanding to the teen. ”Hey chin up.” The teen punched his arm. Hard. He hissed and cradled his arm tenderly, shooting her a reprimanding glare. “I’ll be back to bother you in no time old man. I’ll even bring some proper movies over so you can stop watching those horrible depressing VHS tapes.” ”Those are proper movies,” he argues, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. She snorted and shook her head. ”No they aren’t and you know it!” The teacher shook his hand and thanked him. He hated that they kept doing that. The girl at first just offered a fist bump. She got about halfway down the porch stairs before she spun around and gave him a bone crushing hug. It startled him, but he found himself returning the embrace tentatively, like he was afraid to ruin it. Then the two were on their way. And just like that the house was empty once more. Just him, the cat, and the shot gun. He slid the deadbolt into place, ignoring the heavy finality the sound invoked in him. He stood for a long time in front of that door. He tried to tell himself that the anxious ache in his chest was just exhaustion. Not that he missed his guests. He was better off alone. He knew this and yet the silence of the house seemed deafening. Ignoring the fact that it was only 3 pm he flung open the fridge and downed a beer. Stumbling to the bed he hoped he felt better come morning. Less hollow.
Chapter 2: You Alone? Chapter Summary The homeowner is not used to an empty house anymore. When he finds out that there are refugees seeking shelter due to FEMA and wildfires he decides to let someone in. He doesn’t like who shows up. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes The first few weeks he told himself that he just wasn’t used to the house being empty, that with time it’d get easier. But it never did. In fact he was worried he was going insane. When he opened his living room he still expected to see Yesenin perched cross legged on his worn out couch, beer in hand and a smile on his face. When he was in the kitchen he couldn’t stop glancing towards the spot the teenager used to occupy. Empty rooms only filled him with disappointment and loneliness. The whole house felt wrong now. It made him angry. What had changed? He had always been adamant that he was better off alone. People made him feel on edge, like no matter how hard he tried he would never fit in among them. But here he was moping in his bedroom because he couldn’t bear to face the empty house. At least the cat kept him company. The third week his self worth hit an all time low. The shot gun had never looked so appealing. He was embarrassed to admit that he had fantasized of ending it all. Pulling the trigger and finally experiencing true peace. No fears. No worries. No loneliness. Then the phone rang. Yesenin had made good on his promise to keep in touch. Hearing his voice seemed to sober him up. He didn’t want to lose this. Against his will he had grown to care for these people. He found himself mostly listening to the other man talk for hours. Somehow Yesenin didn’t find his silence off putting, he knew the recluse too well. He told the homeowner how much the world had changed. Entire cities were gone, burned and desolate. There had been many casualties. The Government wasn’t even sure what the death toll even was. FEMA was under harsh criticisms for how they handled the disaster, a full department restructuring was being discussed. Yesenin told him that many people had been displaced from either FEMA or the wildfires. Refugees were seeking shelter at this time due to a lack of housing. “Really?” The homeowner perked up, pulling the receiver closer to his ear. Yesenin chuckled as if he already knew why he was happy to hear that. ”Yeah, it’s a real shit show. You thinking of opening your doors again? At least you don’t have to worry about visitors anymore.” He was right. He didn’t have to check people for signs any more. He mulled over the idea for a while. It would be nice to have some company.
And maybe he could experience some sense of normalcy again. Eventually Yesenin wished him goodnight and promised to call again soon. This time the homeowner believed him. That night he sat by his front door, listening for approaching refugees. The familiarity of the situation somehow eased his mind. He half expected to look outside and come face to face with a sinister smile, black eyes glinting in the darkness. *** The homeowner was growing impatient. Every night he waited by the door hoping, praying, someone would ask to be let in. He knew it was silly to expect them to come at night when people were wandering around in the daytime again but it was what he was used to. By now he swore to himself that the first person to step onto his porch was being let in no matter how odd they were. He could always kick them out later. Sadly he would continue to be disappointed. Enough time passed that the homeowner couldn’t ignore the state of the yard anymore. It had cooled significantly, autumn just around the corner. He couldn’t use the heat as an excuse to waste away in his desolate home. So he started picking up all the debris scattered around and disposing of what didn’t belong. He tried to convince himself the white sun bleached skeletal remains were just fallen sticks from the few overhead trees. He didn’t want to think about the dead right now. He huffed as he dragged another load of debris to the edge of his property. He had worked up a good sweat, maybe tonight he’d be so exhausted from all this he could get some proper sleep for once. A twig snapped somewhere in the distance. He turned, curious to what if could be. He froze when he realized a man was in his yard. He was standing a good ways away from him, features far too vague to make out other than a high necked windbreaker draping over his tall frame. For a moment he just blinked in confusion at the stranger before it dawned on him that this was probably a refugee seeking shelter. He hated how excited he got at the thought. Roughly brushing his filthy hands onto his pants he approached the man. The refugee waited for him patiently, perhaps not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He was only a few feet away from the other man before he noticed far too late that something was off about the guy. He wasn’t just tall, he was abnormally so. His dark pants had seen better days, shredded and hanging around his legs, bare feet covered in mud. The homeowner’s eyes shot up to the man’s face, an amused smile pulling at his features, wicked black eyes boring into his own. His heart stuttered in his chest, blood turning to ice in his veins. The man grinned so wide that it almost seemed to split his face in half, two rows of perfect white teeth. ”Howdy.” The homeowner couldn’t move. He probably wasn’t even breathing. Shit. This was bad. Really bad. He was completely unarmed and there was no hope of getting to the house, the pale man was standing between him and the porch. ”You..” he gritted his teeth, hands instinctively curling into fists at his sides. “You’re supposed to be dead.” That seemed to amuse the intruder.
”Oh?” His voice was low and playful, head slowly tilting to the side. “Is that so?” He hated how the visitor watched him. Predatory. For several long moments the two stared each other down; the homeowner tense, ready to spring into action at the slightest movement and the intruder calm and collected, a smile still lingering on his face. Finally the human spoke up. ”Why are you here?” ”Isn’t it obvious? I want in the house. Heard there are some… vacancies to be filled. So little human-” He leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “You alone?” The homeowner lost it, fight or flight reflexes kicking in. He surged forward, surprising the visitor. His fist connected with the intruder’s face with a SNAP and he stumbled back, blood welling from his nose. But that only slowed him for a moment before his face twisted into euphoria. He launched himself towards the human, a cackle tearing from his throat. He barely escaped his grip, his bony hands outstretched and twisting towards the human. He wasted no time landing two more hits on the visitor; the latter right in the stomach earning a hiss from the creature. This wasn’t right. He’s seen this monster in action before and he could do way better than this. Quick enough to dodge gunfire and skin thick enough to deflect bullets. He single handedly slaughtered an entire platoon of heavily armed soldiers without so much as a scratch. But he was bleeding freely now from one punch. In fact he seemed smaller than the last time he’d seen him. His skin was still far too pale, but it had color to it. It didn’t before. His movements were slower, less impact behind his hits. Or maybe the homeowner was stronger than he thought. Emboldened he bore down on the intruder, fighting with as much ferocity and strength he could muster. He was humbled when the Intruder managed to grab his face. In a flash he was flipped onto the ground, the Intruder pressing his face into the earth with his entire body weight bearing down onto him. He writhed underneath the creature while it chuckled. Hot breath hit his ear and he flinched away from it. ”That’s it? Oh I expected so much better from you.” Something broke inside the homeowner at those words, his father had frequently uttered that same sentence. He kicked out tangling his legs with the visitor’s and twisted violently, sending him crashing to the ground as well. They wrestled in the dirt, the Intruder snarling like an animal in his face. He was able to hit the creature in the ribs to which he answered by viciously biting his arm. He cried out in pain and tried to wrench himself free from his teeth. When he increased the pressure he panicked and grabbed the Intruder by the throat squeezing as hard as he was able. They glared each other down until something flickered in the pale man’s eyes, something he had never seen before. Fear? The pale man released his arm from his jaws and threw all his weight forward, effectively dislodging the human from his hold. The two scrabbled to their feet and eyed the other panting. The pale man was definitely weaker than before, the human noted. He was disheveled, bruising already blooming across his face and bleeding freely from several cuts and his nose. But he was still dangerous, he was an entire head or two taller than him, even in this weakened state. And he was very strong. The homeowner’s body was screaming in pain, vision impaired by swelling in one eye. He couldn’t recall the last time he felt this battered.
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about the state of his arm. It was throbbing, quite possibly broken. The pale man wasn’t smiling any more. He was sizing him up, serious and calculating. In a way it felt good to be perceived as a threat to something like him. He snorted then, be it annoyance or frustration he couldn’t tell. “I tire of this. Just let me in human. I won’t kill you, I don’t receive their orders anymore.” ”What!?” He answered, bewildered. “Why the fuck would I let you in? Better yet, why do YOU want to come into my house!?” The pale man rolled his eyes like the answer was obvious. ”Because I have nowhere to go. And you’re alone. It is mutually beneficial for the both of us.” The homeowner’s jaw dropped. ”In what world does this benefit me?” The visitor simply smiled. It was off putting to see his own blood smeared across his teeth. ”Because your kind prefers safety in numbers. Do not fret dearest human, I’m sure you’ve noticed I have changed.” The homeowner narrowed his eyes. ”Just spit it out. What’s going on? Why are all the other visitors dead but you're not?” ”The visitor’s reign has fallen. The heat was what allowed them to thrive in the first place. When the earth became too cold for them to survive they crawled back into the dirt to keep warm. Now they’re safely burrowed deep in the planet's core, until their time comes again. The infected either died off or began regressing back to…” He motioned towards his body, lip curled in disgust. “Something human.” ”You expect me to believe you’re human,” disbelief clearly evident in his tone. ”Not quite. I am neither human nor visitor, but something in between.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ”Even if you’re half human or whatever you are-“ he motioned to his body. “There’s no way in Hell I’d trust you in my home.” The pale man cocked his head in interest. ”Why not? I will not hurt you. And as you can see you can clearly hurt me.” He motioned to his bloody nose, a sick smile spreading across his face. “In fact I bet your precious gun can harm me now.” He didn’t like the way the intruder was looking at him. “I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he sing-songed. “To take advantage of my weakness. To blow a hole in my chest and watch me bleed out before your eyes.” ”Stop that.” He hated that his voice shook. The pale man was thoroughly pleased, his dark eyes savoring the human’s discomfort. The homeowner swallowed thickly. ”How do you benefit from this?” The intruder’s smile faded. ”I already told you.”
”No you didn’t. You said you had nowhere to go, that doesn’t tell me anything. Why do you want in my house? And why mine specifically, we both know there are plenty of houses out there. Hell, they’re probably homes full of people who don’t know what you are or what you’ve done.” The pale man considered this for a moment. ”No, I do not care for other humans. Cowards, liars, weaklings pretending to be the one calling the shots. Always trying to be in control. You are different, no other human had ever stood their ground against me before. It was thriiiiilling.” He dragged out the word with a grin. It made the homeowner shiver. “You are the only one I can tolerate. So I came here.” The homeowner’s mouth was dry. He didn’t like how tempted he was to let this thing in. ”And…how do I benefit from this?” He was afraid to hear the answer, the dark look the visitor was giving him was not making him feel any better. ”Well. I thought that was quite obvious.” The pale man drew closer. The homeowner had to fight the urge to back away as he approached. He towered over him, interest flickering in his eyes, breath rattling deep in his chest. “You get my companionship dear human. I’ve watched how your loneliness has consumed you. How you’ve been waiting by the door every night almost as if you’re begging for me to come knocking. Well here I am. You’ll never be alone again.” ”That’s not-“ he scoffed before the intruder grabbed his chin roughly, effectively shutting him up. ”And of course you get my protection. There are others like me, you know. And I’d say they are far more bitter about the outcome of the visitors than I am. But as long as I’m around they won’t dare to approach your home.” His long cool fingers traced delicately over the bruising on the human’s face. It was so unexpected that the man stood there rooted on the spot. He felt like his brain had stopped functioning completely. ”Sooooo,” he grinned. “I’ll let myself in, yes?” Before the homeowner could regain a semblance of sanity he found himself slowly nodding. Instantly the fingers on his face turned from gentle to bruising, the corner of the visitor’s mouth twitching sharply. “Say it.” His pride told him to refuse, consequences be damned. Reason told him refusing now would end in dismemberment. He hated himself so much, angry to have been blindsided so completely and ashamed that the crushing grip on his face had him flushed. “You can come in,” he grit out, hate dripping from every word. “I’m alone.” The pale man’s eyes rolled back into his skull, a toothy smile warping his features into something gruesome. He shook with giddy laughter, spine bowing backwards with each cackle. The human tried to pull away only to be dragged closer, wicked eyes staring down into his with unadulterated glee. ”Delicious.” Chapter End Notes
So how does everyone feel if I name protag Dmitri? Any suggestions for what to name pale man? (only relevant way later, that son of a bitch isn’t gonna go by a human name anytime soon). Kudos, feedback, and comments are very appreciated! Art on twitter @Whimsywyvern or tumblr @whimsical-wyvern or Insta (not very active there anymore) @whimsical_wyvern_art. Thanks for reading and see you soon! Beta read by my buddy SoupSalad
Chapter 3: You Infuriate Me Chapter Summary The homeowner struggles to coexist with his new roommate. Chapter Notes I just want to say I was blown away by how many positive comments I received! It really motivated me to keep writing. As always feedback and kudos are appreciated and thank you to my beta reader SoupSalad. Sorry this chapter took a bit to write, with Halloween and work I had a lot to juggle. Also I went with the protag’s name as Mikhail but for a majority of the story he’s still going to be referred to as “the human” or “the homeowner”, I really just needed it in order for the story to make sense and the eventual relationship side of the fic. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy! He didn’t want to enter the house. Truthfully he thought he was dead the moment he stepped onto the porch. He was braced for it, the pale man’s presence unmistakable behind him. But death never came. He heard the wood creak as the visitor placed his weight onto the first step. His hand curled around the brass doorknob and suddenly he realized he couldn’t do this. He was willingly letting a monster into his home. One that he had painstakingly fought, killed, and suffered in order to keep out. Countless sleepless nights were filled with images of twisted corpses and a pale smile. And when he did dream he was always trapped in a reoccurring nightmare. He would be standing in a house with no doors, rifle aimed and shaking at a figure looming outside. It circled the house slowly, only appearing in the windows for a few moments at a time. Taunting him. Some nights it felt as if it would toy with him for hours, laughing as he tried to force it back from the house. Other times it would blow the front door off the hinges and tear down the hallway. No matter how fast he ran it would always catch him. That would wake him, disoriented and choking for air in ragged gasps. For the first few moments he swore he could still feel cold fingers wrapped tightly around his throat. A low chuckle jerked him out of his thoughts. He glared over his shoulder, the pale man clearly finding his hesitation amusing. ”Lost your nerve?” He mocked, tilting his head. The homeowner gripped the doorknob so hard he was worried it would come off in his hand. Well dammit. The pale bastard knew
exactly how to use his pride against him. Fuck it. The human wrenched the door open and stepped aside. If he was going to do this he was going to enter after him. There was no way in Hell he was letting the visitor stand between him and the only exit of his house. The pale man was silent as he passed by, yet his eyes were full of laughter. He knew exactly what the human was doing. The homeowner squared his shoulders and followed after him, the door sliding shut casting the foyer in shadow. The pale man seemed to be taking in his surroundings with interest. The homeowner stayed by the door, ready to bolt if the creature so much as looked at him threateningly. But the visitor was occupied with sticking his head in every room in the house. He noted that he was tracking mud haphazardly throughout the hallway. He hated how much that bothered him. He bit his lip and forced himself to focus on something else. ”I was right,” the visitor called as he turned the corner after peering into the closet. “Your house is spacious. I like it.” When the visitor disappeared in the kitchen the homeowner saw his chance. Quietly he stepped away from the door, determined to get to his rifle in the bedroom before the intruder could lay a hand on him. The creature didn’t even notice him as he snuck by, too enraptured by the jumbo jar of pickles in his knobby hands, the fridge light making his grey skin look even more sickly than it already did. It would have been comical if he wasn’t acutely aware of how lethal those hands were. He sped up as he approached his bedroom. Checking one last time that the coast was clear he slipped inside. The cat, who was sprawled across his pillow shamelessly, was snoring softly without a care in the world. He glanced around until he saw the shotgun, propped up by his nightstand where he left it. Relief washed over him when the gun was in his hands. For the foreseeable future he was keeping it with him at all times. He cracked it open, double checking that it was loaded in both top and bottom chambers. Once satisfied he closed it back up and slung it across his shoulder. Amazing how much more confident he felt with that familiar weight settled along his back. He told himself it was just because there was a monster in the house, he wouldn’t have needed it for a human guest. He wasn’t sure if that was true. He could hear the pale man walking into another room now, growing closer. He was not letting him into his bedroom. It was his one safe haven. If a visitor stepped foot in his bedroom the illusion of safety would be ruined. He stepped back into the hallway and listened for the visitor. There was definitely movement in the office. He pushed the door open and saw the pale man rifling through the things in his bookcase, as if he owned the place. It irritated him. The pale man perked up when he noticed him before his eyes slid to the gun. His demeanor changed in an instant. His smile fell into a grimace, his expression unreadable. ”Ah,” he murmured, setting a dusty picture frame back onto the shelf. “I see.” Even though his face remained stony, disappointment was clearly evident in his tone. ”I don’t know what you expected.” The pale man’s face twitched. ”A truce. Partnership. Some trust.” The human barked out a laugh.
”Oh that’s rich. In what world would I trust you after what you’ve done?” The intruder cocked his head to the side. ”What I’ve done?” ”Don’t play stupid. You murdered teenagers. Then the soldiers.” He started listing the events on his fingers. “You stalked me, threatened me, harassed me. Nothing about your actions suggests I can trust you.” ”I will not deny that our previous encounters have been… less than ideal for you. I eliminated threats just as you did to my kin.” ”So teens are threats now?” ”They were just caught in the crossfire. Orders were given. I obeyed.” “I can’t just forget what you’ve done—“ ”I don’t expect you to,” he drawled, almost bored. “Nor do I desire any forgiveness or salvation. You can condemn me every day for the rest of your life despite the fact that your hands are also unclean. I will not stop you.” He hated how his insides turned at that. In the early days he had learned the hard way that a sign or two did not always indicate a visitor. The guilt and shame he had felt back then had been all consuming. Even now he tried to push those memories to the back of his mind. The pale man’s attention never left the human. He took a small step forward which was met with a glare from the other. “But the world is changing, and we must change with it,” he continued, dark eyes shining in the low light of the room. “This partnership won’t work if there is no trust. If you plan to shoot me do it now, I’d prefer not to drag this out.” “Don’t give me a reason to shoot and you’ll be fine,” he snapped. That made the visitor grin. ”Dearest human,” he practically purred, it made the homeowner’s hair stand up. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” ”Then stop touching my things.” The visitor looked back at the bookshelf and let out a hum. ”No promises.” ”And that’s another thing.” He pointed. “Visitors lie all the time. They can be real convincing too.” ”In all of our nightly meetings, all of our little ‘talks’,” he emphasized the word, making it seem sinister. “I have never, not even once, lied to you.” The visitor must have been able to read the distrust on his face because he added. “Think back carefully and tell me if you can recall even one lie.” He couldn’t. ***
That evening was one of the most stressful nights he’d ever experienced. Sure enough the pale man, after inspecting all the other rooms in the house, tried to enter his bedroom. He stood his ground and laid down a rule that he absolutely could not enter. When the visitor had laughed down at him he had threatened to shoot him if he ever tried. The pale man hadn’t found that funny at all. In the end he relented and skulked away. He was holed up in his bedroom, the cat curled against his side and the shotgun across his lap. Truthfully he wanted nothing more than to grab something quick from the kitchen and go to sleep. But the thought of running into his new “guest” kept him from getting up. Guess this was his life now. Instead of staying in his room to hide from life’s problems he was hiding from an actual monster. He pondered which one was more unpleasant. If he was being honest he had another reason for hiding away. The pale man had given him a lot to think about. Carefully he replayed their conversations in his mind. Not only did he analyze today’s events, but he reached back from over two months ago to their first meeting. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t prove the pale man wrong. Yes he spoke cryptically, and sometimes made no sense, but he could not uncover a single lie. Could that be enough to trust him? He said that he had no interest in killing him, and had even offered protection. But how could he test to see if this was the truth. He spent hours going through his thoughts, absentmindedly stroking a very pleased fat cat in the process. Eventually the pain in his stomach could no longer be ignored and he finally relented. He cracked the door open slowly. The hall seemed to be clear, not a sound could be heard throughout the house. With the rifle strapped across his back he made his way quickly to the kitchen. Thankfully he was alone, the homeowner felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he turned on the stove burner and made a half- assed attempt at dinner. He usually never ate anything in his bedroom, but he’d rather not stick around and risk having to entertain his housemate. He was just about finished when to his disappointment the visitor shuffled in. He was still moping, he noted, expression reserved and partially hidden by the high collar of his jacket. He parked himself at the table and watched him, still absurdly tall even when sitting. Well if he was going to hang around he refused to acknowledge him. He turned his full attention to his dinner simmering in the pot all too aware of the pale man’s gaze boring into him. He enjoyed a few minutes of silence while he could. The homeowner transferred the contents of the pot to a bowl and turned to leave. ”Wait… Just one bowl?” The human froze and looked over at the visitor in disbelief . ”You have got to be kidding me.” The pale man just sat there confused. The human pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am NOT making you dinner.” ”You made your other house guests dinner.” He was frowning now. The homeowner found this absolutely absurd. ”No, I made my human house guests dinner. You can make your own food. I’m not your maid.” The visitor looked taken aback for a few moments before averting his gaze to the kitchen table with a glare. The homeowner did not stick around after that.
*** Sleep did not come to him easily that night. He lay in the bed fully dressed on top of the comforter, gun at the ready. His paranoia was making him hear things. Footsteps, heavy breathing. He swore he heard the front door open. But the cat was sleeping soundly, not stirring even once. Surely he would react if someone else was in the house, he reasoned. Though the cat hadn’t reacted at all when the pale man arrived. He must have drifted off eventually because when he came to he had rolled onto his side. Light was shining through the curtains, it must be late in the morning. He sat up with a groan, his injuries from yesterday aching all throughout his body. He scratched at his stubble mindlessly, briefly considering turning on the news but deciding against it. It could wait until after he showered. He stood, stretched, and slung the gun over his shoulder while making his way to his dresser. He grabbed a clean set of clothes and made his way to the door. He shuffled across the hall, eyes squinting against the bright morning light. An odd smell hit him then, causing him to lurch to a stop. Something wet was seeping into his sock. His eyes shot open, going straight to the floor. His white sock was now slowly staining red. Blood. He was standing in blood. Looking up made it worse. The hallway was streaked with it, a clear pathway from the living room to the front door. His heart was racing. Oh God, the visitor killed someone. He killed someone and he’s living in his house. He opened the living room door slowly, the nose of the rifle peaking around the corner. The blood trail led to the sleeping form of the pale man, curled into a ball on the wood floor, blood caked across his hands and face. So he definitely ate someone. ”Wake up!” He stepped further into the room, gun trained on the visitor. “Wake the fuck up!” The visitor was stirring slowly, black hair sticking to his forehead, sleepy dark eyes locking instantly onto the gun. He froze before having the gall to look irritated. “What did you do?” The homeowner hissed. The pale man frowned. ”What?” ”The blood!” He motioned exasperated. “Who did you kill?” The visitor was unamused. ”No one.” ”Don’t lie to me—“ ”I don’t lie.“ He grit his teeth so hard he was worried they’d crack. He had to take several slow breaths to get his next sentence out. ”Where. Did. The blood. Come from.” The pale man slowly shifted to kneeling. ”A deer. You told me to get my own food.” His mouth dropped open. ”A DEER!?” ”It’s outside if you would like to see it. Come, I’ll show you.” The visitor stepped past him, leaving the homeowner alone in the living room. Begrudgingly he followed the pale man
outside where a partially eaten deer carcass was rotting in the front yard. He stared at it for several minutes. When he turned to face the pale man he seemed proud of himself. “See? Caught it myself.” It was taking every ounce of will power to not lose his shit right now. ”You.” He needed to reign it in. “YOU.” Oh he couldn’t do it. “Look what you did to my house!” He pointed to the blood trail smeared across the hallway. “What were you thinking? You can’t just drag dead animals in here! And you didn’t even clean up after yourself. I mean, look at you!” He motioned to the pale man, who was watching the homeowner with a slight tilt of the head. “You’re filthy! God you even got it all over your jacket— why the hell are you even wearing a jacket.” ”It’s cold.” It wasn’t even close to cold yet. The weather was mild at best. ”Let me guess. You stole it.” He actually looked offended at that. ”No, I do not need to steal human clothes. I found it.” ”You took it from a corpse.” ”Yes.” ”That’s disgusting. Did you even wash it?” The pale man rubbed his chin in thought. He didn’t like how long it took him to answer. ”It rained a few times. I didn’t see any blood on it.” The homeowner closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ”Okay,” his voice was tight, strained. “Here’s what’s going to happen now. You are going to go into that bathroom, leave your jacket and pants to the side— Don’t interrupt!” The pale man closed his mouth and pouted. “You are going to disinfect yourself. And then you are going to stay out of my way until I clean up your mess. Are we clear?” The pale man was watching him intensely, expression dark. The human’s heart rate picked up again but he stood his ground. He may have overstepped. This wasn’t the Stoner he was admonishing, this thing was a monster. He couldn’t throw his weight around like he could with the others. If the pale man really wanted to he could snap his neck right here and now. But it didn’t come to that. The pale man was smiling again, seemingly amused at his antics. ”It’s cute you think you’re in charge.” *** It had been a long time since the visitor had used a bathroom. He had humored the human and handed over his soiled clothes. In exchange he was given a worn out pair of sweatpants. He didn’t think that was a fair trade. He looked around the small space, bowing slightly to stop from hitting his head. He hated to admit that he was out of his element. He had retained very few memories of his time as a human, and the few he could recall were not worth remembering. So he had let them go, until only a shell of his old self remained. He never
thought he would need those memories again until the cataclysm ended. When the visitors had left him, for the first time since he had been infected he felt lost. Being forced to blend in among the humans had taught him that he could recover certain things. It was difficult to call forth the memories sometimes but little flashes here and there were all he needed. The tub and shower were to the right. He’d have to remember how to use those again. Before he could get too close he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Ah. So that was why the human had reacted like that. Dried blood encrusted his mouth, partially covering his neck as well. Humans were sensitive. He leaned closer, taking note that his skin was still changing color. The temperature change was affecting him. He thrived in the heat. The more extreme the better. But now a constant chill felt like it was seeping into his skin. He could keep it at bay with his new jacket. But now, standing unclothed in the human’s bathroom, he could feel the chill setting in. Little tremors were spasming through his body. It made him tired, subdued. The implications behind that worried him. He faced the tub, determined to figure this out and get it over with. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his human memories. Turn the knobs. One hot. One cold. He cranked the hot valve to the highest and watched until steam rose up from the tub. He glanced at the shower head. How did he get the water to stop coming out the faucet and go up there? He huffed in frustration as the memory evaded him. He continued to prod at his foggy memories until it hit him. A switch. He looked high and low and couldn’t locate a switch like the one from his memory. Out of frustration he started pulling and poking at different things. After accidentally lifting a tab on the faucet the water suddenly switched over. Victorious he stepped into the searing water, relief settling in at the warm feeling. He stood there for a long while, soaking up as much heat as he could. It was the warmest he had been since the cataclysm. Eventually he started looking around the shower. There were some bottles in here. He looked over the labels and realized they were for his hair so he poured some onto his head. He was so good at this. He ran into trouble when he came across a weird puck that smelled amazingly like fresh fruit. He turned it over in his hands. Now why in the world was this in here? He sniffed it again. Definitely a fruit. He shrugged and bit into it and instantly regretted his decision. He coughed and sputtered, the taste was nothing like the smell. He held the deceitful puck away from him and racked his brain. Oh. He remembered now. This was soap. Used for cleaning the body. He looked down at his bloody hands and mud encrusted feet. He had a lot to clean. *** He wanted to burn these clothes, both were filthy as sin and on their last leg. The pale man’s pants couldn’t even be considered pants anymore. They were practically shorts. He had both the jacket and pants soaking in scalding water and detergent in a bucket in the kitchen. He didn’t dare put them in the washing machine when they were that disgusting. In the meantime he busied himself with the floors. He hadn’t tracked too much onto the carpet, which he was thankful for. But he had to scrub the wood on his hands and knees to get the blood and mud out. And it was all throughout the hall and living room.
He was dumping the soiled mop water over the porch railing when he heard the bathroom door open. The pale man was stepping out, wet hair dripping all over the floor. Figures. He wouldn’t have the decency to use a towel. He looked more recognizable like this, the jacket had really thrown him off. It made him seem more human. Now he could see how his skin, though admittedly much healthier looking than before, sagged in some places while being stretched tight in others. His rib cage jutted prominently from his torso and each knobby vertebrae protruded down his spine. It made him look uncanny, yet the sweatpants were so out of place it was almost humorous. He noticed the homeowner watching him and held his hands out for inspection, seemingly very pleased with himself. The homeowner looked over his grey but clean hands, he felt almost like he was checking for signs again. Except this was the most blatant visitor he had ever seen, the cat lady a close second. He hummed his approval and pushed past him, eager to put up the mop bucket and finally get a shower himself. He choked when the collar of his turtleneck was pulled backwards. He stumbled and fell against the visitor, who was looking down at the human expectantly. He flinched as cold water droplets hit his face. ”Jacket?” Anger flared up but he pushed it down. Damn this guy was going to give him a heart attack. ”I’m working on it.” he grit out, wrenching himself from his grip. The pale man’s face fell but he relented, slinking back towards the office. After finally putting everything away and grabbing his change of clothes he made his way to the bathroom. He half expected blood and grime to be smeared over every surface and was relieved to find only pools of water on the floor. It was almost as if the pale man shook himself like a dog. He sighed and got to work removing his old clothes, keeping the rifle propped up by the sink. He winced when he saw the bruises. They were mottled and dark across his body, ugly black spots blooming across his cheekbones and above his right eye. No wonder his arm hurt like hell. He could see the pale man’s teeth marks in his bruising. Honestly it looked like he’d been run over by a bus. Twice. He went ahead and put his clothes in the washing machine and started the water. As he gave the water time to heat up he ran his hands through his hair and sighed. In some ways this was going better than he anticipated. But he was so on edge, always watching for any signs that the visitor was going to turn on him. This had to be some kind of game for him. Why else would he choose him? He had always enjoyed his discomfort and fear. But when would this become boring for him? He was dead the moment that happened. He shook his head and stepped into the shower. All he could do for now was keep his guard up. He reached over for the soap and froze. There was a bite mark in the soap. *** The door slammed in the distance. The human must have finished his shower. Maybe he’d get his jacket back soon. The pale man registered footsteps quickly approaching his room, the human was probably mad at him again. It was kind of funny, he was actually trying to be amicable. The door to the office flew open, the bang reverberating through the room. He was laying back on the couch, legs dangling off the other side due to his height. He lowered the magazine he had stolen a few minutes prior and admired the raw fury the human was
directing his way. He was so entertaining. The human held up the soap, finger shaking as he motioned to it. ”Why.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. More like pure exasperation. He could only smile and turned back to reading. The human put his hands together and breathed deeply through his nose. “Stop doing weird things.” ”What you consider weird,” he spoke, turning a page as he did. “Is much different than what I consider weird.” He could feel the human staring him down. He eventually turned and stormed out. He could hear the human’s curses from the hallway. *** The homeowner was leaning over the washing machine, tapping his fingers idly across the lid as it rumbled. He had started the visitor’s clothes a good while ago but the pale man kept asking if he was done yet. It was getting annoying. He had asked once while he was making lunch, another whilst he was folding clothes. He was getting more pushy about it too. He was going to flip when he realized he didn’t have a dryer. Usually he just hung his clothes out on the line outside, or by the wood stove in the winter. It wasn’t cold enough to justify stoking a fire, but it was an overcast day outside and the weather was quite mild. Maybe he still had his wife’s old hair dryer. No, he shook his head. He wasn’t using anything of hers to help someone like him. The machine finished its cycle, he pulled out the ragged pants and jacket and looked them both over. They definitely smelled better now. The pants weren’t even worth keeping, but he knew better than to just chuck them. With both garments meeting his standards he went out and hung them on the line. As expected the visitor asked him about the jacket again. He was currently in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a can of cat food in one hand. He raised an eyebrow at the half-naked visitor who was attempting to look nonchalant. But he was starting to see it. He was shivering. Now normally he’d offer a blanket or maybe a spare coat from his own closet. But he felt like the pale man deserved this. Pay back for all the torment he put him through. “Still working on it.” The pale man bared his teeth, long fingers flexing at his sides. ”It’s been. Hours.” The homeowner pulled the tab on the cat food, not bothering to look at him. ”And it’ll probably be a few more hours.” He swore the creature growled at that before all hell broke loose. The kitchen was filled with a clatter, furniture toppling over and sliding across the tile floors. He jerked backwards, hands out to stop whatever was happening only to see all the chairs had been knocked over. The cat was standing in the doorway, most likely the fat feline had heard the can open all the way from its nest on the bed. Its head was tilted towards the other end of the room. He followed its gaze to find the pale man pressing himself hard into the corner, arms out and eyes wild. ”What is that thing?” He hissed, eyes trained on the cat. The homeowner stood there dumbfounded.
”You’re afraid of the cat?” He couldn’t help the judgment leeching into his tone. The monster was scared of a lazy, fat, geriatric cat. If he had known that he would have simply adopted thirty cats instead of going through the hassle of checking visitors. “Make it leave.” He watched the visitor closely, trying to gauge if this was a joke. ”No.” The cat took a step closer to the visitor, causing the other to take a step back. “Why is it here?” The pale man seemed genuinely distressed. Vaguely he recalled that on the nights he could feed the cat no one ever died. Maybe the cat was more powerful than it seemed. He watched the animal blink each eye individually. Then again it could have been a coincidence. He slid the cat's bowl closer. “He lives here. Get used to it.” The animal completely ignored the visitor for the food bowl, tangling himself between the homeowner’s legs and mewling insistently. The visitor took that opportunity to squeak out of the kitchen. He couldn’t help a small chuckle. He reached down and patted the cat on the head. ”That’ll do cat, that’ll do.” *** The jacket was finally dry enough to give back to the pale man. Which was a shame because a cold visitor was a quiet visitor. He had spent the past few hours curled up in a ball shivering on the couch. He reminded the homeowner of the coat guy he had mistakenly allowed into the home on one of the first nights. Minus the murderous stomach void that killed everyone in the room. He pushed the office door open and looked over at the miserable ball of flesh huddled against the couch. ”Here.” He unceremoniously tossed the jacket at the visitor, who instantly scrambled for it. He slid the jacket on and zipped the collar to the max, partially obscuring his face. He watched the pale man continue to shiver, dark hair fanned across the couch cushion beneath him. This went on for some time, he had even left to go make dinner and popped his head in just to be sure he was still alive. While the shaking was not so intense, he was still curled in on himself, as if the whole event had been very taxing for him. Something was seriously wrong with the homeowner. He had no reason to help him. In fact he was pretty sure he hated him. But he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the visitor. He noted the puffy bags under the pale man’s eyes, another recent development that made him appear more human. Maybe that was his problem. He was feeling bad because he looked less like the pale creepy son of a bitch killer and more like a sickly tall gangly man. Another shudder racked the visitor’s frame and the homeowner sighed in defeat. Damn him. He hoped he wouldn’t regret this. The visitor jerked awake at the feeling of someone tapping his shoulder. He seemed disoriented, bleary eyes attempting to focus on him. The homeowner shoved the steaming bowl in his face.
”Here. Don’t get used to it.” He stared at the porcelain for a moment before reaching for the bowl. His fingers brushed against the homeowner’s. He grit his teeth and fought a shiver. His hands were like ice. The pale man was sitting up now, bowl cradled close to his chest. His skin prickled under his gaze, he couldn’t figure out why he was looking at him like that. He could only describe it as… Intense. He retreated back to his bedroom, kicking himself for his moment of weakness. *** The visitor thought the human cared about a lot of really weird things. Like keeping the floors clean and forcing him to take daily showers. He had recently started forcing him to brush his teeth, something he considered a complete waste of time. But it was apparently non-negotiable after causing the human to retch due to his “corpse breath”. It may have been a byproduct of the now several day old deer he’d been snacking on. The pale man wasn’t quite sure where he stood with the human. He still kept the gun with him at all times, much to his frustration. In the past he never had to worry about humans and their puny weapons. His body had been altered in many ways, his defense and speed as a visitor were unparalleled. But his skin was no longer as thick as it used to be and he was forced to acknowledge that humans and their weapons were a threat to him now. It irked him. Not only was the sight of the gun enough to raise his hackles, but he realized he felt vulnerable when he was looking down the barrel. He was many things but vulnerable was not one of them. The human was also quick to anger. Or maybe he was really good at pushing his buttons. He fussed at him when he went through the drawers in the living room, or when he tried to squeeze into one of his blue sweaters which tore the garment at the seams, or when he ate an entire jar of pickles in one sitting, or when he’d discovered the basement and left the hatch up which led to the human nearly falling into it the next morning. He couldn’t help but smile when the human was laying into him, which he knew pissed the man off even further. He couldn’t help it. Anger was his favorite expression on the homeowner. It sharpened those green eyes into something dangerous, unwavering and fierce. It was thrilling. In other ways the human was almost civil with him. He no longer flinched when he entered a room and sometimes made short conversation. But he never stayed long, always on the move. That frustrated him too. You see, the most entertaining part of the house was the human himself. So when he disappeared the boredom was practically unbearable. His selection of human literature was so bleak, it wasn’t good for anything other than putting him to sleep. The topics were uninteresting, ranging from the history of leather making to the memoirs of another boring human who lived centuries ago. He knew there were books more interesting than this. He could recall a time where he enjoyed reading, opting to spend most of his free time doing so. He couldn’t remember what any of those books were about. The human hadn’t offered a meal since that night. He didn’t understand why he had made him dinner in the first place, the gesture had seemed out of place. He hadn’t done anything to warrant such an act. Oh but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention. He’d gladly take anything his favorite human offered him. He admitted that the stew tasted far superior to raw venison, and it really had helped warm him up.
He huffed and rolled onto his stomach, sprawling himself across the expanse of the couch. He was sure the human was avoiding him, and as much as he desired to follow after him he didn’t want to drive the man further away. He tried to let him have some space, even when he was itching to see what he was up to. But it was just so hard. He tapped his fingers against the upholstery to distract himself. He considered rereading “The Ecology of Ponds Version VII” for the third time. He perked up when he heard the office door open, the human making his way to an armchair by the bookshelf. He learned that some evenings the human liked to sit and read as well, that horrid orange creature usually sitting across his lap. On cue the wretched thing entered, the pale man tensing immediately. He stiffened when he heard a snicker, glancing over at the human who seemed to find his discomfort entertaining. He scowled and settled back on the couch. Usually the cat’s presence was enough to make him leave, but he didn’t appreciate the look the human had given him. So he stayed. The homeowner ignored his presence, one hand absentmindedly stroking the animal in his lap. He couldn’t understand how he could like that thing. Everything about the animal was unnerving to him. And its incessant purring was grating on his ears. As the hours ticked by the homeowner’s eyes grew heavy and tired. The cat had finally stopped making that awful noise, the silence of the office a blessing. He stayed vigilant, never once taking his eyes off the animal. His attention was so focused on the cat that he almost failed to hear a noise outside. Something rustled in the far distance, his ears pricking towards the sound. He sat up suddenly, startling the human and the sleeping cat. ”What are you—“ He shushed him, eyes unfocused as he listened for the sound. The human’s mouth clicked shut, a hardened gaze locked on the pale man. The visitor was focused on the curtains. Dry grass rustled and snapped as something approached the home. It was crawling, he could hear its long body dragging along the ground. Slowly, he stood from the couch and approached the window, careful to make as little sound as possible. The human’s heart rate had picked up significantly, which was making it harder to focus on the noise. The homeowner couldn’t hear what he could, his range far beyond that of a human’s. It was close enough that he could make out its rattling breaths, animalistic grunts in between each pause. His mind was filled with static, an itching persisting deep inside his head. Like little bugs were scratching along his skull. He tried to shake the feeling off, but it only grew stronger. He shivered, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He was in front of the curtains now, drawn shut and obscuring the view from outside. But he remained still. He didn’t need to open the curtain to know what was out there. There was only one thing that it could be. He glared at the dingy striped curtains. And it was staring back at him from the other side. The silence stretched on, the temperature dropping colder and colder. ”Is it a visitor?” The homeowner whispered. It was like a gunshot went off, the break in silence was jarring enough to send the creature running. He listened to it retreat, shoulders easing as the sound grew more distant. Only then did he chance a glance out the window. Empty hayfields and a charred black house sat under the moonlight. He relaxed and closed the curtain tightly.
He turned to find the human had his gun drawn but pointed towards the floor. ”The hell was that?” He kept his voice low, as if he was worried if he was too loud it might return. The pale man could see sweat beading on his face. “You said they wouldn't approach the house! You lied!” He hissed. ”A normal visitor wouldn’t.” The human drew in a shaky breath. “It sounded enormous. What was it?” The pale man looked down at him coolly. He didn’t want his human to know what was lurking out there. But he couldn’t exactly kill it at the moment, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He had to try. ”Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” *** Ever since the mystery visitor had appeared the pale man would leave for a few hours every night. It made the homeowner nervous to be in an empty house, especially since he didn’t know what he was dealing with. He hated that he didn’t feel safe until the pale man returned. He shouldn’t put any trust in him, but it was hard when there was no one else to turn to. He was seated by the front door, idly bouncing his leg as he waited. A storm was raging outside, the sound of the rain pelting the roof filled the home. The pale man was being vague with him, his only instructions were to keep away from the windows until he gave the all clear. Four knocks on the front door signaled his return. He unlatched the door and the pale man shuffled in, rainwater dripping onto the wood floor. He secured the door and looked back at the visitor, who was lost in deep thought, his expression grim. ”Any luck?” He shook his head. He expected that answer. He must have checked the woods today, twigs were snagged in his wet hair, leaves and mud smattered across his legs. “Alright.” He started pushing him towards the bathroom. “Shower. Now.” The pale man glared at him but shuffled to the bathroom anyway. The door clicked shut. “Clothes in the washer.” He ordered. He heard a muffled complaint through the door. “Stop whining, there’s a change of clothes in there.” He left the visitor to wash up and wondered why he was getting used to this. *** The homeowner was sitting in his armchair, the pale man taking up his usual spot on the office couch. He was invested in a gossip magazine, he had no idea where he found it, occasionally giggling to himself as he read. As annoying as it was, he was trying to ignore it. He was doing his best to stop picking fights with the visitor. He took a sip from the beer he’d been nursing for the past half hour. He thought about catching up with Yesenin, but he feared the pale man would listen to the call. He wanted to hear how he was faring, and inquire if he had heard anything about visitors surviving the cataclysm. Yesenin would probably ask if he had let anyone in and he’d have to tell him about his weird new roommate. He’d omit the part about him being a visitor of course.
Wait. Yesenin would ask for a name. It would be weird to not know your roommate’s name. ”Hey.” The pale man stopped reading and turned his eyes on him. “I was wondering something— about you I mean.” The pale man arched his brow. ”Oh?” ”What’s your name?” The visitor frowned. ”I don’t need one.” The human watched him go back to reading as if the conversation was over. He wasn’t ending this here. ”What are you talking about? You have to have a name, weren’t you human once?” The visitor tapped his chin and stretched out, his legs dangling off the other end of the sofa. ”Perhaps, in another life. I don’t find it necessary anymore.” He felt that familiar rise of anger and choked it down. ”Okay. What are you going to do when another human asks your name?” He reasoned. “You have to have one, otherwise that would be weird.” The visitor rolled his eyes and looked back at him unimpressed. ”What’s your name?” The homeowner blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected him to ask that. ”Mikhail.” The visitor nodded and turned back to his magazine. ”Then I’ll be Mikhail too.” The homeowner crushed the can in his grip, hands shaking. ”No. We can’t both be Mikhail.” ”Why not?” ”Because it would get confusing.” ”It’s actually quite simple. If you say Mikhail I’ll know you’re talking to me and if I say Mikhail you’ll know I’m talking to you.” “It’s my name,” he growled. “Get your own.” The visitor was chuckling to himself again. ”What have you been calling me?” He narrowed his eyes at him. “Pale bastard.” The visitor grinned in delight. “I like that too.” God he was infuriating. *** A cool breeze was rustling the tall grass, golden waves bouncing and flowing throughout the fields. The homeowner hoisted the laundry basket higher on his hip, the basket heavy from the damp clothing. He plopped the basket down when he reached the clothesline, idly running
a hand through his hair. He made a mental note to cut it soon. He couldn’t care less about how he looked, and he hated fooling with it. Reaching up and grabbing the clothespins he started working on the task at hand. The visitor’s ragged pants were in the pile again, the visitor insisting he keep them because he didn’t like the sweatpants. If they got any shorter they’d be borderline indecent. The visitor was currently asleep on the sofa, which was rare for him to do during the day. He had spent most of the night out in the woods, this time for hunting purposes. He had returned with two deer this time, which had brought forth the question of how he was catching them. He regretted asking. The pale man had given him a thorough and detailed demonstration of how he would stalk and chase the animals down before he snapped their necks. He had convinced the visitor to let him clean and prep one of the deer in exchange for a few meals. He was getting low on meat, and he wasn’t quite sure if the grocery stores were back in operation. ForRest had disabled their number so he was in a bit of a bind. If it meant he had to cook for the bastard for a few nights then it was worth it. He had just finished hanging the linens when an odd prickling sensation began behind his eyes. He stood there in confusion before a scratching pain flared throughout his skull, so intense he stumbled on his feet. The world was spinning, he had to fight to stay standing. A shadow fell over him and his stomach dropped in dread. He could hear something now, a wet rattling breath was rising above him. He could see a hulking silhouette through the linen, body twisted and deformed. Look up. He didn’t want to, he felt like that would lead to death. Look up. He tried to lift the rifle but his arms weren’t responding. His balance was so distorted. It was moving closer now, his head was pounding in agony. Something black was leaning down into his field of vision. LOOK UP LOOK UP LOOK UP LOOK UP LOOK UP LOOK UP LOOK UP— Two cold hands suddenly covered his eyes, the pain instantly lessening. He was pulled back sharply into a bony chest and held there so tightly it hurt. The pale man’s breathing was ragged, he could hear it directly in his ear. The static in his head was still there, and something in him insisted he uncover his eyes. As if the pale man could sense this he pressed his palms firmly across his face. ”What—?” ”Don’t. Move.” He froze. He had never heard him sound like that. A gurgling cry made him flinch, the pale man snarled in response. The visitor’s chest rumbled against his back, the sound low as if in warning. Something heavy was dragging along the ground in front of him. The creature gave one final scream and retreated away, its sickly breathing growing more and more distant. The two of them didn’t move at first, both the human and visitor were out of breath. The human yelped when the pale man started pulling him backwards, still not uncovering his eyes. ”What was that?” He rasped. He could tell he was being guided back towards the house.
“A body eater. It’s what a visitor can become if it is burned.” They made it up the steps, and only after the front door was sealed did he release the human. The human blinked as his eyes adjusted. The pale man was suddenly grabbing his face, tilting it to one side then the other. “Hey! Get off—“ ”Did you look at it?” The pale man seemed desperate. “Your eyes are really red. Did you look at it even for a second?” The homeowner stopped wriggling, put off by how serious the visitor was. ”No. It wanted me to look, but I didn’t.” The pale man released a sigh through his nose and let go of his face. “The heat from the fire causes a full body transformation. One look can drive you mad.” This sounded familiar. He remembered the blind man, so tormented by horrible visions after looking upon a grotesque monster that he took his own life. He swallowed thickly. “Can you kill it?” ”Not at the moment.” The homeowner’s face darkened, his grip on the gun tightened. ”Why was it here?” ”It’s starving. Normally body eater’s don’t go after the living, but it’s getting desperate.” That wasn’t reassuring. The pale man must have seen his dismay and continued. “It’s not invincible. Most have died off already. The cold will eventually weaken and kill it, we just have to keep it away until then.” The human appeared to be processing this. “Any ideas on how we can do that?” The pale man grinned. ”Yes. But I’ll need to leave my jacket here. There’s going to be a lot of blood.”
Chapter 4: Turning Point Chapter Summary The homeowner tries to understand his roommate. He ends up with a friend. Chapter Notes Apologies for the long wait, this chapter was a beast to write and my nephew was born so there were some delays. I have been blown away by everyone’s kind words and comments! I am thrilled that you guys have been enjoying the story, and I hope you will continue to :) Everyone give a big biiiig thanks to my beta reader SoupSalad, who not only spent two hours looking this over, but helped me correct some character moments and shared some amazing advice throughout the writing process. Thank you so much, and hope you enjoy <3 The body eater did not return over the next few days, whatever the pale man was doing was working. That evening the visitor had disappeared for the entire night. He guarded the door, on high alert until morning. When the pale man had returned the homeowner was horrified. True to his word he had been drenched in blood and viscera. He was so disgusting he refused to let him in the house, forcing him to stand out in the yard while he hosed him off. The visitor did not enjoy this, opting to loudly voice his complaints as the freezing water blasted away the built up gore. After he was thoroughly decontaminated he explained his plan. Using animal remains he was luring the body eater away from the house. He planned to keep it isolated in the woods, and was fairly confident that in a month or two it would be weak enough for him to dispatch it. He hoped that was true. In the meantime he was forced to take the visitor with him every time he exited the house, which was inconvenient because he never gave him enough space to work in. He was always two steps behind him, practically breathing down his neck. And when he told him to back up he’d just smile and explain that he was protecting him. He never had a good response to that, so he was forced to grin and bear it. It was early morning, the homeowner still half under the blankets as he fumbled with the tv remote. The CRT flickered on and the familiar face of a bug eyed reporter appeared on the screen. He squinted through tired eyes, his vision not quite adjusted to the light. ”City recovery efforts are making significant progress. Reports are showing that essential workers have been able to resume operations in many areas. The primary areas of focus have been to restore public transportation, mail delivery service, and retail grocery operations. Due
to the ongoing housing crisis and rise in refugees displaced from the cataclysm, citizens will be required to register for ration cards. With food supply and basic goods being in high demand, ration cards are here to help ensure that every citizen can be cared for. Displaced individuals can apply in person at these locations.” The homeowner sat up, finally dawning on him that this was important information. “Homeowners living in rural areas will be receiving ration card applications in the mail over the next few days. For those with multiple individuals staying in the home, the head of household will be required to report the number of individuals on their ration card application. Only one ration card will be issued per household. Next up, how FEMA is reforming their policies.” He switched the TV off, not caring to see anything to do with FEMA. He didn’t like to think about them. It made him weary that the news was still avoiding the topic of visitors. Not once since the cataclysm ended were they ever mentioned other than to assure the public that they had all “died off”. But the pale man was obviously still alive and the body eater was clearly still roaming around. So wouldn’t there be incoming reports of visitor sightings? Even if most of them were gone, visitors weren’t exactly subtle. People would have noticed something unusual, right? It didn’t sit right with him, he had a feeling that they were covering this up. The homeowner stretched and grunted as several pops in his back sounded off in response. He went about his usual morning routine: grabbing a shower, feeding the cat, and getting started on breakfast. He had taken a peek in the office to keep tabs on the pale man but he was still fast asleep on the couch, curled awkwardly on himself and tangled in his own lanky arms. He winced just looking at him, if he slept like that he wouldn’t be able to move his neck for days. The visitor’s late night escapades were catching up to him, he usually didn’t wake well into the day. He wasn’t complaining, it gave him a break from the visitor and time to catch up on certain chores without aggravation. He was sitting in the foyer by the front door, coffee in hand while the cat rubbed insistently at his legs. Before the pale man arrived he would have done this in the office but since he seemed to have taken up permanent residence there he had to find a new spot. While the initial fear of the visitor had dulled as the days went by, he was still conflicted about how much he should trust him. He hated to admit it but the pale man had saved his life, and while he was frustrating and very odd at times, he had made no moves to harm him during his stay. Everything in his being told him to stay on guard, but keeping your guard up twenty four seven was exhausting. Ringing cut through the early morning silence, the phone’s screen lighting up green. His heart dropped, he had a pretty good idea who was calling. This could be his only chance for some privacy. He scrambled out of his chair, earning a yowl from a very upset cat, to grab at the phone. He yanked it off the receiver to silence it, holding a hand over the speaker as he listened closely for any sounds in the house. The seconds ticked by, no movement could be heard from the office. Slowly, he lifted the phone to his ear. ”Hello?” He murmured, careful to control his volume. He was so glad when he heard Yesenin’s somber voice on the other side. ”Everything okay? Thought we lost connection for a second.”
”Yeah, I’m fine.” He debated whether he should bring up his “roommate” now or ask how his friend was holding up. His curiosity won out. ”How’ve you been? Where have you been staying?” The line crackled on the other end. ”Luka and I found some apartments in the city. The place is technically abandoned but there are lots of refugees taking shelter here. The building survived the fires for the most part and people have been mostly keeping to themselves. Although there’s a little community on our floor and the company’s been nice. We try to look out for each other. Eventually someone’ll probably run us all out of here but for now it’ll do. There’s also a bar a few blocks away that’s still open. Really can’t complain.” He was glad he found a place away from all the chaos. “Is FEMA still around?” ”Oh yeah.” The other man sounded agitated. “The fuckers haven’t changed one bit. They’re still harassing people, and avoiding questions. You know there’s a rumor that they’re still running those quarantine camps. Now that’s odd isn’t it? Why would they still keep people locked away if the visitors are all gone? Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re still grabbing people off the streets.” The homeowner’s stomach dropped. He swallowed thickly. ”Do you…” he hesitated. He was going to ask if he thought the visitors were still out there. Yesenin was very vocal about how paranoia and fear over the visitors drove the world to madness. Would it be a disservice to bring them up? He may be better off not knowing. “Why would they do that?” ”Who can say? Maybe it’s about power. They aren’t willing to admit that their actions killed a lot of innocent folks. Now everyone hates them but they’re not going to back down because of their pride. Or maybe the people in those camps know too much. Saw every sick and evil thing those bastards did. Now they have to die to keep their secrets.” There was a pause and then a sigh. “Sorry, I’m trying not to be so negative. Luka’s been encouraging me to look on the bright side, but sometimes it’s so hard when you see something shitty every single day.” He understood that feeling well. He responded by closing himself off and letting apathy consume him. The cataclysm had in some ways helped with that. He was forced to care, brought on by the bonds he had made with his guests. Which had been unintentional, he had truly meant to keep his distance from them. Guess things didn’t always go to plan. ”What about you? Been holding up okay? Did you take any refugees in?” He lowered the phone and glared at the office door once more, only resuming the conversation when he was sure the other man was still sleeping. ”Yeah I did. But I need to talk to you about that.” ”Oh?” He sounded intrigued. ”I have some concerns.” ”Like what?”
”He’s odd.” ”More so than the guy who used to smoke weed in your bathroom and mutter to himself all night? Or the guy that literally called us all ‘humans’ and worshipped the sun?” Hmm. He had a point. ”Okay yes, those guys were weird. It’s just…” He trailed off in thought. “He showed up about a week and half ago and I can’t read him.” Yesenin chuckled at that. ”Sorry to break it to you friend but you can’t read most people. You’re not very social.” If anyone else had said this to him he’d hang up the phone. But the jab earned a twitch to the corner of his mouth, the closest he’d get to a smile. ”Perhaps.” ”Okay,” his voice still tinged with mirth. “Tell me exactly what he does that bothers you.” Well he couldn’t tell the full truth, but maybe he could get the point across by leaving a few details out. ”He approached me out in the yard and wanted to stay at the house but I didn’t like the guy so I said no. We got into a fist fight over it but he offered to help protect the home if I let him in and I had a moment of insanity and said sure.” Yesenin was full on laughing now, descending into a coughing fit. ”Oh that’s great! You know they say some of the best friendships bloom after a good brawl.” The laughing subsided and Yesenin cleared his throat, suddenly serious. “Jokes aside man, are you okay? He hasn’t threatened you or hurt you has he?” He couldn’t help rolling his eyes. If he had he’d be nothing more than a smear across the wallpaper, courtesy of his shotgun. ”No. Nothing like that,” he admitted begrudgingly. “My main concern is if I can trust him.” ”Hmm.” The other man was silent for a good while. The homeowner could practically hear the gears turning in his head. ”Tell you what,” he blurted suddenly. “The buses are back up and running, and we sure as hell aren’t doing anything important. What if Luka and I paid you a visit? It’d be just like old times but without the fear of being vaporized or having our brains blown out. We could try to get a read on your roommate and catch up? How bout it?” Huh. It wasn’t a bad idea. He enjoyed Yesenin’s company and he had no problem with Luka joining. His positivity could be annoying but he knew there were worse things. It would be interesting to see how the pale man reacted to their presence. It could also reveal if he had any ulterior motives based on his reaction to having to share the home with other humans. ”Okay. I’m fine with it.” ”Great. It’ll be a few days before we can make the trip but just try to take care of yourself in the meantime, okay?” He let out a sigh through his nose.
”Sounds good. Talk to you soon. And thanks.” He placed the phone back on the receiver. He was lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel that he was burdening Yesenin with his problems or that he was overthinking things. There was a part of him that missed the simplicity of his time as a hermit. Being alone you only had to worry about yourself. But he had to remind himself how empty that felt. How every morning he was disappointed to wake up. Even with his current predicament, he felt better than he had in years. He didn’t want to lose that. “Howdy.” He jerked backwards, slamming his hand into the end table. ”Fuck,” he hissed, pain flaring throughout his fingers. He glared daggers up at the visitor, who was grinning in amusement at his response. “Don’t sneak up on me like that you creep.” The visitor hummed in apology but he didn’t look sorry at all. Before he could yank it out of his hands the pale man was picking up his worn and chipped ceramic mug. ”You drink this every morning. What is it?” He was still rubbing his fingers absentmindedly. ”Coffee. Put it down.” The pale man was looking into the mug with a frown. To his dismay he held it higher to his face and sniffed it. ”Hey wait! I was still drinking that!” It was too late, he had already taken a sip. His face scrunched up in response but he didn’t put it down. He tapped his long fingers against the mug and tilted his head, thoroughly inspecting the dark liquid. In the end he must have decided he liked the flavor because he was already walking away while taking another sip. “Oh okay. Guess that’s yours now.” Great. Now he’d have to make another pot. *** He was fiddling with the radio when the pale man appeared in the doorway. He looked up from the kitchen table, curious to his sudden arrival. ”There is a human approaching the house.” He set the radio down and pushed away from the table. ”Does it look like FEMA?” When the pale man stared at him blankly he clarified “You know, the one’s in yellow suits?” ”No. But he arrived in a truck and is wearing a uniform.” He made his way to the front door just as someone knocked at the otherside. Glancing through the peephole revealed an older man, broad shouldered and greying at the temples. He held a stack of mail in his hands, a leather satchel almost overflowing with letters slung across his shoulder. ”It’s just the mailman,” he called out, reaching for the door. The man looked up from the mail he was sorting through in his hands. ”Afternoon. Are you the head of household?” He leaned against the doorframe. ”Yes.” He dug through the satchel and pulled out some papers.
”Here’s the regular mail.” He handed the stack that was in one hand before holding up the papers from his bag. “This is your ration card application. Super important you fill this out right away. Just place this back in your mailbox when you’re done. When you get your ration card it will tell you what stores you can visit as well as your assigned shopping days.” He accepted the papers from the mailman. “If you have any questions there’s a number on the form. Thank you sir for your time.” He tipped his cap and started back down the dirt pathway. When the door closed the pale man was already trying to take a look at the papers in his hands. ”What did he want?” ”Just dropping this off.” He gestured to the mail under his arm. The visitor’s eyes locked onto the two magazines in the bundle. He plucked them right from his grip, a mischievous smile breaking out on his face. He wasn’t even surprised by this, just allowed him to steal his prize and leave. Good, that’ll keep him entertained while he filled out the paperwork. Back in the kitchen he spread out the application and started filling out his information. It asked the basic questions: name, age, address, and what not. Then the questions changed focus on the cataclysm. “Were any members of your household killed during the cataclysm?” or “Were any members of your household quarantined by FEMA?” It also asked you to specify if the people lost or taken were family or refugees. He figured these questions were more of an attempt to figure an accurate death toll rather than being related to the ration cards. After trudging through several more pages relating to the cataclysm he started on the ration card itself. ”Finally.” he muttered, finding this to be more trouble than it was worth. The kitchen door pushed open. He didn’t need to look up to see who walked in. A shadow fell over him as he tried to continue working. For a while it seemed like he was going to be allowed to work in peace. Then he felt hot breath right by his ear. ”You’ve been in here for a long time.” ”Jesus— don’t do that.” He leaned to the side to put some space between them. The pale man took that as an invitation to move closer to the papers, leaning over the homeowner’s shoulder. ”What is this?” he asked tapping a finger on the application. He moved the papers away from the visitor to protect them. ”Careful, we need these.” He lined the pages up, tapped them on the table and set them back down. “It’s our ration card application.” The pale man blinked slowly. ”Ours?” He had an odd look in his eyes, one he couldn’t quite read. ”Yeah? You understand that you eat too? I have to register both of us so we can get more food and supplies. Potatoes and venison won’t cut it forever.” The pale man had a far off look
in his eyes, he couldn’t tell if he heard him or not. He was about to ask what the hell was his problem when a coy smile spread across his face. “What? What is your—“ ”We.” He was grinning ear to ear now. The homeowner stared at him bewildered. ”Huh?” The visitor slunk back out the door, refusing to elaborate. He sat there blinking, stunned. “What is wrong with him?” he mumbled. He shook his head and went back to finishing up the paperwork. *** The visitor felt giddy. The human had never referred to the two of them as ‘we’ before. He was also registering him as a member of his household on his little ‘ration card’. That meant he was thinking long term. How exciting. The human was definitely getting used to him in the house. He was still delightfully testy, but he didn’t have the gun with him today. And while he still couldn’t tell where exactly they stood, it was a step in the right direction. He was so happy that when he came across the cat he didn’t even flinch, he just laughed at it. The wretched creature didn’t react other than a slow blink. He might as well go out, he was so amped up with extra energy it was making him twitch. He left his jacket in a heap by the door, he didn’t need it once he got moving. He made his way down the worn dirt pathway, the house slowly growing smaller and smaller behind him. Once at the edge of the woods he stopped and listened one final time, making sure that nothing was approaching or near the house. He couldn’t let anything happen to his human. Satisfied he took off on all fours, he could cover a lot more ground that way. He could feel his strength gradually returning as his body temperature rose, bones popped and limbs elongated. Despite this he was still disgustingly weaker than how he was during the cataclysm. A bullet was a threat now, they used to bounce off of him with little to no feeling. He remembered seeing it in a person’s eyes when they realized they would die, that no matter how armed and ready they were, there was nothing they could do would stop him. He mourned this loss of power. Humans were arrogant, constantly needing to be put back in their place. He knew he could never return to his peak, but what strength remained was still enough to break something as fragile as a human. There was a group of humans that he had been keeping tabs on during his nightly excursions. They had a campsite, shoddy wooden structures built out of the scraps of other buildings right by the forest. Nothing more than common looters, they preyed off of passing refugees and scavenged off the dead. But he heard one bragging the other night about kicking an old woman’s door down and forcefully taking everything of value in the home. That made them a threat in his eyes. Even though this group had not wandered in the direction of his human, he watched them regardless. Tonight they were loud and obnoxious, the stench of alcohol permeating the air. A few starving street dogs hung around the edge of their camp, darting in to steal discarded trash or food dropped by careless hands. The humans here were not kind to the animals, in their eyes the dogs were just another competitor to their already scarce resources. The animals did not alert the humans of his presence, sparing no loyalty for these men. They had grown used to his visits, tucking their tails or cowering as he passed. He didn’t acknowledge
them as long as they knew their place. If one dared to bare their teeth they were swiftly corrected. That’s why he admired them. Dogs were easy to understand. The strong ruled over the weak. The weak knew their place. If only humans could be more like dogs. There was an older dog, a female with a sleek brown coat. She was polite, bowed her head when he approached, and very smart. He’d seen her successfully steal from the humans several times and never once get caught. She had a significant limp, ugly scars disfiguring the leg. He favored her over the rest. He tried not to think about why, the memories she stirred in him were not welcome. Images of brown fur and a feeling so intense that left him feeling hollow when the memory faded. He had a feeling that he had always favored dogs over people. A loud cheer rang out from the encampment, a bearded fellow with a gold tooth was brandishing two large bottles. He seemed to be their leader, the men took orders from him and he’d watched the man turn and shoot one of his own after an argument. A shiny black pistol always sat on his hip. There were two other men he had memorized as well. One was short but stocky, a scar crawling up his neck and flared out across one cheek. The other was a young man, much younger than his human. He was tall and rather gangly, a strong wind looked like it could blow him over. He looked pathetic, but that was just a facade. He and the scarred man had been running a scheme together where the young man targeted homeowners posing as a poor refugee. When they took pity on him and let him in they’d work together to rob them blind. It was unfortunate that none of the three ever stepped into the woods. He’d dispatch them quickly if they did. The night went on and the campsite grew quiet, most of the men passed out in drunken piles. It was aggravating how many of them were armed, or that these fools were at least intelligent enough to have lookouts posted. He decided tonight they would not meet their deaths, he couldn’t risk getting shot himself. Besides, he had other things to take care of. He slunk back into the trees, heading in the direction he had last encountered the body eater. He hated that he couldn’t get it to ambush the looters, it wasn’t bold enough to target more than one human at a time. Some of the dogs followed him, the chance of a meal putting some vigor in their steps. They knew when he was on the hunt, and as long as he had enough to keep the other visitor satisfied he didn’t care less if they ate the scraps. He wasn’t having the best luck tonight, so far only nabbing a rabbit and a sickly doe, barely enough meat to justify the effort. He was getting agitated, but he didn’t cave and turn on the dogs. He was fond of them, and he valued their company enough to spare them. A twig snapped in the distance, his body turning automatically towards the sound. He could make out talking if he strained hard enough. Slowly, he edged closer. Two yellow suits stood out from the brush and leaf litter. Oh this was perfect. He abandoned his previous kills, letting the hungry dogs drag them away. The FEMA agents had been bold as of late. When he originally told the human he was luring the body eater using only animal remains he hadn’t been lying. But then the next night a FEMA agent had been walking towards the house which never meant anything good so he took action. Since he had a corpse to dispose of he had used it to lure the body eater. This had worked far better than the animal remains, it chased him so violently that he almost bailed for his own safety. He ended up climbing a tree, it couldn’t follow with such a heavy body,
scrabbling at the bark wailing for him to come down. In the end he had managed quite a distance, one he was confident the creature could not return from in one night. He just needed to keep it that way. The FEMA agents were whispering to each other, but with his heightened hearing he could make out every word. ”So they think it’s a visitor? It’s the woods, It’s more likely a bear.” ”No,” the taller one hissed, holding his rifle close to his chest. “It’s bigger than a bear. Leaves a track where it’s been like its dragging itself by its arms. Seen a visitor like that once. Ate the whole quarantine camp. We ended up abandoning the area because of it.” Sounded about right. Let the civilians die. Mothers, fathers, children— did they care? No. In their eyes, they were the top dog. Above consequence. “Then why are we here? I mean shouldn’t we have back-up or something? It’s gotten at least four of us—“ ”We don’t have the bodies for that! Every agent taken was patrolling solo. We barely have enough people to pair up. Besides, the visitors are a lot weaker now so this won’t be like last time.” There was that human arrogance again. Even with that rifle they weren’t a match for the body eater. How could they be, when they weren’t even a match for him? He stalked them from behind, movements slow and silent. They were wrong about who was doing the killings. While the body eater was the one devouring them, the pale man was their true threat. He had slain each and every FEMA agent that entered these woods. His hands wrapped around the first one’s head, a sharp twist and he was crumpling to the ground. The second barely let out a scream before he was on him. Bones crunched and then silence. He admired his work, quite proud of himself. Some sick part of him enjoyed this, putting fools in their place. Both FEMA agents were lying on the ground, the masks obscuring their faces. How he wished he could have seen their expressions. Still, he had a job to do. He hoisted the two men up, one over each shoulder. He thought about taking the guns back with him as a gift to his human, but the more he thought about it the less he liked the idea. One gun was enough. Finding the body eater wasn’t difficult, something that large wasn’t quiet. Its charred body twisted towards him, expectant. He fought against the static in his head, he hated how it affected him now. He was able to lead it further than ever before. By the end he was a bloody mess, the tacky feeling on his skin growing more and more unpleasant the more it dried. He really needed to get some proper clothes, the nights were only going to get colder from here on out. It took him a few hours to make his way back to the human’s house, the illuminated windows putting him strangely at ease. Before he could go inside he had to rinse off outside with the garden hose, a new strange rule the human forced on him. This was by far his least favorite. The cold was unbearable, it literally felt like it was ripping him apart. His teeth by the end chattered so violently he was genuinely worried about biting off his tongue. Why did this even matter when he was going to be forced into the shower right after anyway? How much damage could a little blood do to the floors, the human himself spilled more blood in that
house than he ever could. He shook himself, trying to rid himself of the frigid water as much as possible. When he entered he made a beeline for the bathroom, still shaking all over, only to last minute stop himself from running into the human. He had his toothbrush hanging out his mouth, tired green eyes catching his. He never had a favorite color before, even when he was human. But every time he looked into those eyes he knew he definitely had one now. “Hey.” The human didn’t even bother to remove the toothbrush, he just spoke around it. “Towel’s in there and some pants. G’night.” The visitor grinned, beyond pleased his human had thought about him enough to lay out clothes for him before he’d even made it back. It stirred something in him, but it wasn’t sweet. It was hungry. Possessive. But he had to hold those feelings back. Couldn’t risk scaring him away. He schooled his expression into what he hoped was something appreciative, instead of manic. ”Thank youuu.” He definitely didn’t say that normally. Fortunately the human just cocked an eyebrow and shuffled off. Once the bathroom door was closed and locked did he let his composure slip. He curled in on himself, cackling in glee. Fantasies flickered through his mind, some old and some new. All involved Mikhail by his side. That human was going to drive him insane. *** The next morning the homeowner had just slipped the ration card application into the mailbox by the door when the phone rang. This time he didn’t recognize the number. He picked up the phone with a click. ”Hello?” A woman’s voice was on the other line. ”Good evening sir. I’m calling today to invite you to attend a charity clothing drive we’re hosting at the city outskirts this afternoon. If you are in need of anything including winter clothing or footwear we can help. Due to high demand spots are limited, can I put you down for a reservation?” He was just about to answer ‘No’ when the phone was plucked from his hand. He whipped around to see the pale bastard hold the phone up to his ear. ”Oh yes,” he answered smoothly. “Where is this again?” ”Hey give that back!” He lunged for the phone and in the next second the air was pushed out of him. He gasped, disoriented for a moment. He was pressed firmly against the wall, a pale hand keeping him in place. “Oh you piece of shit—“ ”Perfect! We look forward to it. Buh-bye.” He released the homeowner and offered the phone back to him. He wanted to break it over his head. ”The hell are you doing?” he spat. The pale man grinned. ”Great news! We’re going to the city today.” He bristled at this.
“Absolutely not, this is all you. Don’t drag me into this.” “Oh you misunderstand. You don’t have a choice.” *** How did it come to this? What decisions had he made in his life that led him to this situation? Crammed against a monster in a crowded musty bus. He regretted this the moment he stepped out of the house. But the pale man had threatened to throw him over his shoulder and drag him there if need be. He believed him. The visitor seemed to be enjoying himself, he had his head turned in an unnatural position in order to look out the window. He was fuming, grumbling to himself as the woman next to him continued to take up most of his own seat. This forced him to sit practically sideways, lined shoulder to knee against the pale man. ”This is awful.” he grit between his teeth. The visitor turned and looked down at him sweetly. ”You could sit in my lap?” ”Drop dead.” The bus finally lurched to a stop. The double doors opened with a hiss and the mob started filing out, shoving and pushing each other the entire time. He could see the scorched remains of the city’s apartments more clearly now, somber markers of death and despair. Outside there were people of all ages congregating around the city entrances. Some were waiting for buses, others trading amongst themselves, and many just looking lost. The pale man joined him on the sidewalk. ”Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, already wanting to go home. “Lead on, I don’t know where she told you to go.” The visitor nodded and started forward. He yelped as he was yanked forward, stumbling over his feet. He realized the bastard had grabbed his hand. He yanked himself out of his grip. “No stop that! I’ll follow you Jackass!” The visitor smirked but continued walking. They passed through the city gates, once beautiful trees stood withered and dying. The sheer amount of people was overwhelming. Some watched as they walked by, though he avoided their eyes. He had never liked being observed. They continued further, the pale man stopping to read street signs every so often. You could see which buildings were affected most by the fires, some nothing more than ruins. Despite this children were out playing in what remained. Such innocent lives should not have to comprehend such devastation. Lost in his head he almost missed that the pale man was no longer in front of him. He turned around, afraid he had lost him, only to see him a ways off looking up at something. He walked back over, curious to see what had distracted him. Standing by his side he could see that he was looking at one of the torched buildings. He waited for him to move on or say something, but he never did. He just stared, expression hard and stony. ”Everything okay?” The visitor’s eyes finally snapped to him, almost startled to see him. He waited and repeated the question when he failed to answer. The pale man shivered and made a dismissive noise and started walking again. He thought about pressing him about what that
was all about but decided against it, he didn’t seem approachable right now. Eventually the tension eased from his form and he was back to looking around. ”So why am I needed?” He spoke up after a few more blocks. The visitor tossed him a quick glance over his shoulder. ”I’m not interested in conversing with other humans if I don’t have to.” The homeowner regarded him with confusion. ”But you love talking. Couldn’t get you to shut up when you were at the door.” The pale man smiled slowly, baring his perfect teeth. So perfect they were uncanny. ”Ah but that was with you. I enjoy our conversations. Other humans are not so entertaining. They give into their fear and despair far too quickly. It’s boring, overdone. I do not wish to speak to such bland creatures if I don’t have to.” He glared at the visitor. He wanted to tell him he wasn’t going to be his liaison but it seemed he really didn’t have a choice. ”Ah, we’re here.” There were rows upon rows of tables set up in a courtyard, piled high with clothing of all shapes, sizes, and colors. People were milling around, picking through what was on the tables. Surprisingly there were several armed FEMA agents supervising the event, their presence seemed to not be appreciated. A thin woman with thick puffy eye bags approached them nervously, a clipboard in one hand. ”Reservation number?” She asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. He looked at the pale man, praying he bothered to remember the number. Otherwise this trip was for nothing. ”Thirty six,” he responded coldly. She didn’t react to his frigid demeanor, opting to instead look down at her clipboard. ”Can you verify your phone number?” The pale man looked confused but the homeowner intervened and told her before they could be turned away. “Fantastic,” she answered. “Are you both participating?” ”No, just him.” He motioned towards the pale man. ”Right.” She scribbled something down. “Follow me sir.” He took a few steps forward then realized the homeowner wasn’t following him. He cocked his head in confusion. ”Nope. This is all you.” The disappointment was evident on his face. Good. Maybe that’ll teach him you can’t always get what you want. He hung back and observed the other participants. Some were on their own, while others were with their entire families. A little girl was fidgeting as her father attempted to hold a garment up to her, trying to make sure it was her size. It made his heart hurt, thoughts of the neighbor’s daughter flitted through his head. He looked away, instead focusing on the pale man who was sifting through a pile of shirts. He noticed him watching and gave him a wicked grin, lifting the most horrible shirt he’d ever seen. It was a normal t-shirt with the words ‘Women want me, fish fear me’. ”No,” he begged. “Don’t get that.” But his pleas fell on deaf ears, the pale man just nodded and placed it in his pile. Figures. As the minutes ticked by he gradually realized he was being
watched, the hair on the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably. He turned to see a FEMA agent was watching him closely. He scowled, bitter every time he saw that uniform. He tried to ignore him, glancing over every so often just to make sure he was still watching him. He was. He was roughly the same height as him but he must have been pretty lean, the uniform hung awkwardly off his frame. He was close enough to see his gaze through his goggles, blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. It also made him uncomfortable that his gun was in his arms, the muzzle directed to the ground, and not over his shoulder. Almost like he was expecting to use it. Then the agent stepped forward in his direction. Fuck that. There was no way he was going to talk to one of those bastards. He hurried towards the visitor. As annoying as he was, he preferred his company over FEMA. Which is saying something because he was quite literally a monster. The pale man didn’t even look up when he joined him, just asked him a question. ”Tell me, which color do you hate more, hot pink or neon yellow?” He showed two more horrible shirts and he couldn’t help but sigh. ”Please don’t torture me with those.” The pale man snickered and put the shirts back. ”Those would be torture for me as well. This is what I’ve actually found so far.” He showed off some sweaters of varying thickness, all different shades of grey or white. A few were thick turtlenecks, which would be perfect for winter. He also managed to find two pairs of trousers that would fit his tall frame. They were a welcome improvement to his original shredded pants. He nodded to show his approval. ”Looks good. What else are we looking for?” ”I’m not sure. I’m figuring it out as I go.” He kept his head bowed towards the table, but snuck a glance back at the FEMA agent. He was still watching. That didn’t sit right with him. He tried to put some distance between them, convincing the pale man to check out a different table. A thick but worn canvas parka caught his eye. ”Oh hey,” He lifted it up and held it against the visitor. “This is nice. A lot better than the coat you’ve got now. And it’ll do a better job keeping you warm when it starts snowing.” The visitor tilted his head, clearly considering it. Then he reached for his jacket’s zipper. “What are you doing!?” He smacked his hand earning him a frown. ”What? Trying it on.” “No! You don’t have anything on underneath, that’s not normal!” He was trying to keep his voice down, but a woman nearby gave them an odd look. He grimaced awkwardly, and tried to whisper his next words. “You can’t just strip in front of FEMA. They’ll notice… some things.” His skeletal frame and sagging skin would definitely give him away. The visitor looked at the FEMA agents, unimpressed. Though he conceded. ”Fine. But it looks too big.” ”It’s supposed to be. You have to have room for your layers.” He ended up having to walk the visitor through layering, apparently all recollections of winter prep forgotten. By the end he’d
forced a pair of gloves, hat, and scarf into his arms, none of which he looked pleased to have. When he dragged him over to the shoes he resisted entirely. “Suck it up. You wanted this.” ”I don’t think that’s—“ The homeowner shoved at him. “No. You need shoes. No arguing.” He looked over the selection, grabbing a few pairs of socks as he went. The visitor stood nearby, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. It was difficult to find something that fit, especially since he refused to stand still. He ended up going for a practical winter boot, knowing he’d be lucky if he could even get him to wear these. He held the boots up, the pale man side eyeing the shoes murderously. ”You’ve got to try them on.” The visitor turned away from him, lips curled back in distaste. ”No.” Anger flared in his chest. Choke it down. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper here. They were surrounded by strangers and FEMA. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. ”Stop being difficult— “Shoes impede mobility.” ”You can’t run around barefooted you freak!” …Now everyone was looking at him. He felt his face flush, embarrassed by his outburst. The visitor was enjoying this at least. He had a sly smile, dark eyes twinkling with laughter. ”Fine,” he cooed. “But only because you’re so charming.” He nearly threw the shoes at him, managing to hold himself back now that everyone thought he was insane. Thankfully the others went back to perusing, too worried about their own problems than to focus on two strange men. The pale man had put on the boots willingly, but he still wasn’t pleased with them. He was appreciative that he had the decency to keep them on instead of tearing them off right then and there. Satisfied with his haul, the visitor approached the woman from before. She scribbled something else down on her clipboard and handed him a sack to place the clothes in. “Thank you for coming,” she smiled. “Take care and stay safe.” He ignored her, instead pushing the homeowner forward to interact with her instead. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at his behavior, opting to thank the woman for her help. He wasn’t surprised to see the visitor already wandering off, not interested in exchanging pleasantries. He sighed and followed after. He was so relieved to be heading home, already fantasizing about his bed. It was probably good that he went out every now and then. Didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He caught the FEMA agent in his peripheral vision as he passed. The agent wasn’t focused on him any more, he was glaring openly at the pale man. He picked up his pace, eager to leave before the agent got any ideas. *** Back home he was working on dinner in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he washed the encrusted dirt off some potatoes. The cat was keeping him company, lazily
sprawled across the countertop. He was actually in the way, but he didn’t have the heart to move him. Exhaustion slowed his movements, having to force his eyes to stay open. The beer he had earlier was partially to blame. The door creaked behind him, his roommate must have returned from his nightly “errands”. He lifted his head when the visitor entered, wearing one of his new turtlenecks. He had aggressively removed the boots the moment they entered the house, both shoes were still laying haphazardly in the foyer. Water dripped down his face, droplets caught in his lashes and black hair sticking to his pale forehead. He noticed his face was flushed, the visitor kept the water scalding hot. He knew this because he had made the mistake of taking a shower after him once and was subjected to the coldest shower of his life. Never again. He was currently reading one of the magazines from the other day, not even glancing up as he took a seat at the table. He watched him with tired eyes. The visitor was getting awfully comfortable with expecting food. He had noticed he gravitated to the room only if he was making something, sometimes watching over his shoulder as he worked. It used to aggravate him, but he’d come to terms with it. It was one of his more benign quirks. What did bother him was the lack of help regarding mealtime. Before it was a group effort, sometimes Luka would take charge and he assisted when needed. Other times they helped him. Yesenin was banned though, after a wayward attempt at breakfast caused a small kitchen fire. He still stayed and helped with cleanup. Making up his mind, he decided to push some boundaries. He spent the entire day doing something for the visitor, now if he wanted dinner then he had to help. He strode forward, plopping the bowl of potatoes in front of him with a clang. The pale man looked up from his reading, brows raised in surprise. ”Nice of you to drop in to help. Here.” He stuck a small peeling knife into the top of the pile. “Peel these.” The visitor blinked slowly, mouth turned down into a frown. He looked up at the homeowner, probably trying to gauge how serious he was. He pointed at the pile, expression stern. The pale man reached for the knife, the potato still stuck to the other end. He stared at it for an uncomfortable amount of time, like he almost expected the potato to peel itself. ”Uh… Is there a problem?” He asked when still no progress had been made, the only movement had been when the pale man rotated the potato in the air. ”Hush. I’m working.” ”It doesn’t look like it.” The visitor frowned but kept his eyes on the potato. ”It’s coming back to me.” ”What? You forgot?” At this point he had adjusted the knife in his hand, his full concentration on the task at hand. ”Yes.” He growled, voice tinged with bitterness. “Many of my human memories are unclear. But I’m sure I can figure it out.” It was painful to watch. He was unbearably slow, either
leaving patchy spots or taking off too much, wasting perfectly good food. He tried to ignore it and go back to prepping the kitchen by grabbing other ingredients but after fifteen minutes crawled by and he was still holding the same potato he caved. ”Here. Like this.” He plopped into the chair across him and grabbed another from the bowl. The pale man paused and watched him skin the vegetable with practiced ease. “Keep the skins, I can use those for tomorrow.” He placed the discarded skins in another bowl and started on the next potato. The visitor went back to his own, adjusting his grip to mimic the homeowner. Thankfully he was doing so much better, though significantly slower than the human. “So,” The homeowner drawled, knife working quickly in his hands. “What can you remember?” He was mildly intrigued by what the visitor said. In his experience many visitors did have memory problems of some kind. The cashier girl had been convinced she was human since she could recall her childhood, yet couldn’t remember odd things like how her teeth were suddenly pristinely perfect. Even then they seemed to remember who they used to be. The pale man was an enigma, but how much of that was intentional? ”Little things,” he answered. “Sometimes I can only glimpse a feeling. Nothing worth the effort.” ”So you can’t remember anything significant. Not even what you used to do before the cataclysm? Or where you lived?” The visitor clicked his tongue, clearly not interested in discussing this. ”Why bother? Pointless memories of another life. I have changed, so what purpose does it serve to dredge up the past? Change is inevitable after all.” The homeowner glanced up, unimpressed. Now he was just avoiding the question. The homeowner was 70% sure he was being cryptic because he just didn’t want to try and remember. Well if the visitor could use his pride against him then maybe he’d take the bait himself. He leaned back and adorned his best poker face. ”Coward.” The visitor responded immediately, head whipping in his direction. ”Excuse me?” His voice was low, lacking its usual playfulness. ”You heard me.” Oh what he’d give to see his expression right now. He hoped he was fuming. But he had to really sell this in order for his trap to work. “Only the weak run from the past. Sounds like you’re afraid of what you’ll see if you really tried.” He felt something in the room shift, one that even the cat seemed to feel. The animal sat up, fur bristling for the first time, a low growl rumbled in his throat. Oh he was mad wasn’t he? He miscalculated, never anticipating to strike such a nerve. He didn’t look up, afraid his brave facade would crumble if he made eye contact. God why didn’t he have the gun with him? When had he stopped carrying it around? The silence was tense, uncomfortable and stifling. The visitor slowly leaned back in his chair, he swore he could hear bones popping and shifting.
”Is that so.” His voice was calm, but he could hear how much restraint he was showing. “Then what do you suggest?” The homeowner slowly exhaled from his nose. He just wanted to finish dinner and go to bed. “Look,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not trying to start anything. You’re so dismissive about anything that has to do with humans but the fact remains that you were human once too. I think there’s value in that, your memories and experiences make you who you are. Just try to remember one thing about yourself. It can be anything.” The homeowner went back to peeling, the pale man simply watched him. When he reached over to grab some plates he noticed the visitor was still seated at the table, eyes glassy and unfocused. He stopped, trying to figure out what was wrong now. The visitor winced and rubbed at his temple, clear frustration on his face. The homeowner blinked, realization dawning on him. He was actually trying. His memories must really be vague if it was taking him this long. Perhaps that version of him really was gone. He was disappointed, but not surprised. After a while he accepted that he wasn’t going to get a response from the visitor. Oh well. At least he seemed to have calmed down. He got up and took what potatoes were ready over to the grater. He added some flour and eggs and started mixing everything together, seasoning the mix as he went. Spooning a few dollops into the skillet and adding a bit of ground meat, the draniki were nearly done. He started plating dinner when the visitor sat up. ”I… could play piano.” He turned to look at him, surprise on both their faces, like the pale man wasn’t expecting that either. The homeowner set the plates at the table and sat back down, giving the visitor his full attention. ”Oh yeah? Were you any good?” The pale man’s brows furrowed, deep in thought. ”Perhaps… I stopped playing after I became an adult for some reason.” He winced, a hand rubbed at his temple. “No… Someone made me stop. I can’t remember who.” The visitor tapped his fingers against the table as he mulled this over. Fingers that used to play music apparently. He hadn’t expected that, but now the thought had him curious. The homeowner tried to imagine the visitor as a human, seated in front of a grand piano. As he played, long pale fingers danced over the keys. A tailored black suit that accented his hair, white dress shirt underneath. It reminded him of an old noir film, sleek and elegant. It kinda fit him. Wait, why was he thinking about this so hard? He blinked, clearing his head. The pale man was watching him, it made him uneasy how serious his expression was. Maybe he was expecting a response? He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I never had a knack for music or instruments,” he stated, taking a bite of his dinner. “When I was in rhythm class my grades were so awful my father would light me up every time I brought my report card home.” While he never enjoyed memories of his father, he expected a laugh. It was usually the response he received. But the visitor cocked his head. “I can’t remember my father.” The visitor paused, then added. “I don’t think I had one.” They locked eyes, the visitor’s steely gaze lacked its usual playful demeanor. The homeowner didn’t know how to respond, the exchange felt too intimate. He decided to shut up and eat his
dinner before he ruined this night even further. He kept his eyes downcast, glued to the worn table top. He was tempted to down another beer and call it a night right then and there. “That was pointless.” He glanced up, something in the pale man’s voice caught his attention. The visitor wasn’t looking his way, hollow eyes unfocused and dark. He had never seen him look so empty. Completely emotionless. It made him speak up even though he had already done enough damage. ”I didn’t think so.” The pale man frowned, his eyes sharpening on the homeowner. ”Why?” Suspicion and disbelief evident. “What could you have possibly gained from this?” He asked pointedly. He held his gaze, feeling that right now it was important. ”I felt like I learned something new about you.” The visitor snorted. ”One thing. One meager memory.” ”Yes but,” he pointed as he continued. “That ‘one thing’ was something that not a lot of people can do. It says a lot about you, and who you were.” ”Okay.” He leaned forward, suddenly invading his personal space. “Tell me, how does ‘I used to play piano’ say a lot about me?” There was something charged between them, a battle of who would back down. The visitor truly believed he was lying, using his size and intimidation to force him into conceding. But he was stubborn, he refused to back out now. ”Fine. I’ll make a list for you.” He held up a finger. “One. It shows you had discipline. You had to spend a lot of time and effort learning not only how to play the instrument itself, but read the sheet music as well. Two.” He held up another finger. “You were patient. The piano is not something you can learn in a day, or a week, or even a month. Three. Control. It takes so much dexterity to be able to move both hands independently, while also making sure to hit the correct keys with your fingers.” He placed his hand back down on the table. “And that’s how I learned three things about you from one tiny memory.” He sat back and crossed his arms, challenging him to respond. The pale man stared, clearly not expecting his answer. Something flickered in his expression, the hardened lines in his face softened. Slowly he eased out of the homeowner’s space, he released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The pale man had a pensive look to him, as if the homeowner had given him much to think about. He used this opportunity to clear the table. He felt pretty good about that victory. Although he hadn’t expected such an outburst from goading him like that. A part of him was just curious about the man before he became the monster. Rinsing off the dishes and shutting off the water he turned and started for his bedroom. Finally he could get some much needed rest. A firm grip on his arm stopped him in his tracks. The pale man stood slowly, their height difference so much more evident this close. He looked up at him, weary of what was coming. The visitor didn’t look at him, but the grip at his elbow was unyielding.
“I will consider your sentiments.” The homeowner’s brows furrowed in confusion. He was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when the visitor turned his head in his direction and he was suddenly so close he choked. He froze when he felt the visitor’s breath fan across his cheek. “Regarding my human memories, I had no interest in recovering them before. But I will keep your advice in mind.” He almost nodded like an idiot, his nose brushed against the visitor’s. Was it always this sweltering hot in his kitchen? Maybe a second cataclysm had started and he just didn’t know about it. The grip on his elbow was released and he almost fell over. He righted himself and stood there dazed. He needed to get out of here, something was definitely wrong with him. He bolted for his bedroom, kicking himself the entire time. What the fuck was that!? What. The. Fuck. *** He was wasting time, he knew this. But he couldn't find the energy to face the day. It was well past noon, his hunger pains had faded hours ago, his body accepting that he didn’t intend to move. He was laying back in his bed, propped halfway up to watch the news. The reporter was going on about reconstruction projects and nearby food pantries which he couldn’t be bothered to remember. He was still trying to unpack yesterday. He knew the visitor barely understood acceptable social behavior, and clearly he had no idea what personal space was. But why did he react like that? He could have pushed him away, but he just stood there like an idiot. Could he blame that on temporary insanity? He worried that something was wrong with him. It felt like he was the king of bad decisions. One fuck up right after the other. Why had he even let the pale man into his house in the first place? He knew the answer, but he didn’t like it. He was lonely. So lonely he was willing to share his days with a monster. Did that make him pathetic? He was pretty sure it did. A small fuzzy head nuzzled his cheek. The cat was purring, heavy weight pressing against his chest. The homeowner reached up to stroke the animal’s face, it leaned into the touch. “I know. You’re hungry.” The cat meowed and rubbed his head against the man more insistently. He pulled the cat closer, appreciative of its affection. Who knows how long he would have laid in bed if it wasn’t for the ginger furball. Sometimes just knowing that a little cat was relying on him was enough to keep him going. “Fine. You win. I’ll get up.” He sat forward, the cat pushing off his chest and bounding to the door. It pawed at the door, acting as if it had never been fed before in its life. He didn’t bother to grab a change of clothes yet, he’d take a shower afterwards. He pushed open the door and the cat zoomed into the kitchen. He padded after it with a yawn, scratching idly at his stomach. It was pretty cool in the house today, goosebumps breaking out across his bare arms. He probably should have thrown on a shirt beforehand. When he opened the kitchen door he froze, the smell of coffee was overpowering. The last person he wanted to see right now was cradling the coffee maker, a wild grin stretched across his face. ”Human!” The visitor turned and pointed at the coffee pot. “I figured out the morning beverage, I had one of these machines!” He blinked slowly.
”…Coffee?” He didn’t respond. The pale man wasn’t paying attention to the homeowner, too transfixed on watching the dark liquid drip from the filter basket to the glass carafe. The homeowner took the opportunity to observe him, gauging if he was acting any differently since yesterday. The visitor seemed to be in a better mood at least, eyes bright despite the faint dark circles framing them that never seemed to go away. He didn’t appear to sleep very much, his nightly routine varied from a few hours to nearly dawn which meant some nights he had to be running on four hours of rest at most. He never caught him taking a nap during the day, once he was awake he was more than likely pestering the homeowner. The visitor had a mug in his hand, sidestepping quickly out of the way when the cat approached, shooting it a glare. His aversion to the animal still amused him, especially when the cat ignored him entirely. Surprisingly the steaming mug was forced into the homeowner’s hands. His mouth fell open involuntarily. “What are you—“ ”You are up five hours past your usual wake time. Coffee gives you energy, correct?” “…Yes. But why are you giving me this.” The visitor eyed him with a tilt of his head. He did that a lot, he couldn’t help but find the mannerism similar to a dog’s. ”Because that's how you always start the day?” He said this like it should be obvious. He squinted back and forth at the contents of the mug then to the visitor who was patiently waiting for him to try it. It looked like regular coffee, but the smell told him that he made it way too strong. He wondered if the pale man would crack his neck right there if he refused. He set his jaw and lifted the cup to his lips. He struggled to keep his expression neutral, eyes watering and face twitching. It was pretty terrible, but shockingly it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. He gave a thumbs up and pushed past him so he could properly grimace without him seeing. He focused on feeding the cat, fully intending to pour the coffee down the drain as soon as the visitor had his back turned. He didn’t get the chance to, the pale man continued to hover nearby. He was wearing another one of his new tops today, an oversized cable knit sweater that had seen better days. It was too large for him, hanging off his frame loosely. It was frayed in some spots, evidence of a few patch jobs done across the arms. It hid his inhuman traits well. The pale man broke the silence, likely growing bored by the lack of conversation. “The mailman came again today.” The human grunted, forcing down another unpleasant sip of coffee. ”Good. Where’d you put the mail?” He pointed at the kitchen table where a small stack of letters was placed at his usual spot. He shuffled over to the pile and sifted through them. Nothing important, just advertisements and notices. He was gathering the papers together to toss in the trash when he realized the visitor was directly behind him having stepped closer at some point. He had his head cocked to the side, interested in something on the homeowner’s back. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was so focused on until he remembered that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Shit. The scars. There was no way in hell he was talking about those with him. His wife didn’t even see them until they were married. He marched back to his bedroom to grab a change of clothes, putting as much distance as possible between him and the visitor. He grimaced to himself and shook off the bad memories. He needed a shower and to get his head on straight. How hypocritical was it for him to tell the visitor to face his past, when he didn’t even want to acknowledge his own. *** It was late in the afternoon, the homeowner reclined in his armchair when the pale man, who had previously been occupied with a random crossword puzzle he had discovered in one of the pages of his magazines, sat up so violently that the homeowner nearly fell out of his chair with a curse. He looked over at the visitor in aggravation, but waited for him to tell him what was wrong. “Two men are approaching the house.” How he could hear that all the way from the office baffled him, but he trusted that the pale man was telling the truth. “Oh,” he sounded disappointed, face going flat. “I recognize these voices.” He sat still for a moment before remembering that Yesenin and Luka had said they were going to make the trip. He stood, a lightness in his chest at the thought of seeing his friend. He hoped it was them, he was eager for a proper conversation with the somber man. The visitor seemed to read his body language and got up as well. He padded over to the door and looked through the peephole. Relief washed over him when he could make out the tall man starting down the pathway, his attention focused on the shorter man to his right. Luka was still wearing his strange get up, lime green hat and leggings standing out against the shriveled barren landscape. Luka was chatting idly as they walked, Yesenin nodding every so often. “Okay,” he leaned away from the door and fixed the pale man with a serious stare. “We’re going to have company. I need you to be on your best behavior.” The sour expression on the pale man’s face would have been hilarious in any other situation. He half expected the visitor to fight him on this, but was pleasantly surprised when he rolled his eyes and yielded. “So be it,” he grumbled. Satisfied with his response he turned and opened the front door for his guests. Yesenin looked happy to see him, a small smile already on his face. He reached out and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, the force behind it knocking him a few steps forward. ”Nice to see you, my good man.” To anyone else his voice would sound solemn, but having spent so much time with the man before he could understand him better than most. Luka beamed at him, offering a small wave in greeting. ”Good to see you Misha.” He nodded to them both and invited them inside. ”It’s good to see you both as well. Was it a tough trip?” ”Not at all,” Luka spoke up. “We took the bus most of the way here. Navigating the city’s worse, if you can believe it.” Yesenin agreed softly.
”Lot’s of road closures right now. Construction efforts and damage from the fires. We’re still getting used to it.” The homeowner wasn’t surprised. What little part of the city he visited had looked pretty rough, he wouldn’t be surprised if entire districts were trashed. The tall man noticed his roommate then, turning to offer a hand in greeting. ”Ah,” he smiled. “You must be the roommate. The name’s Yesenin, nice to meet you.” The pale man was slouching, which gave the illusion they were the same height. If he straightened his posture he was actually taller. He offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, leaving the other man’s hand in the air. The visitor must have realized he was supposed to do something with the outstretched hand and slowly grabbed it between two fingers. ”Howdy.” Oh my God he should have made sure the visitor knew how to fucking greet people properly. He glanced at Yesenin, trying to discern how off put the man was by his behavior. His brow was slightly raised but he didn’t give anything else away. ”So,” he started, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. “Uh, what’s your name?” A shit eating grin broke out on the pale man’s face then, catching the homeowner’s eyes. He knew exactly what he was about to say. “Don’t.” He warned, as low as he could manage. The visitor looked back at Yesenin, grin never faltering ”Mikhail—” ”—It’s not!” He blurted, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yesenin was looking between the two of them now wearing an odd expression. ”Ugh,” he paused and pulled his hand back from the pale man’s grip. “Alright.” He pointed at the homeowner. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He started down the hall without a glance back. The homeowner felt his neck flush in embarrassment. Luka tried to smooth over the strange tonal shift. He heard him offer an introduction and suggest the two move to the kitchen and properly introduce themselves over a drink. Yesenin was waiting for him near the living room, watching silently as Luka and the pale man disappeared into the kitchen. When the homeowner was close enough he gestured at him, voice low. ”Okay.” He closed his eyes, as if he was collecting himself. “The hell’s wrong with him?” The homeowner racked his brain, trying to think of a suitable reason for his strange behavior. ”He… uh,” he blanked, the hard look the tall man was giving him throwing him off. “He has memory problems, can’t remember his name or his past.” Yesenin arched his brow, a dark look forming. He didn’t like that expression at all, he couldn’t let him think he was a visitor. He thought of the cataclysm, multiple possibilities forming in his thoughts. “FEMA!” He exclaimed. Oh, that was a great idea. “Yeah, FEMA hit him in the head.” He looked over to the kitchen and saw the pale man pull out a roach from the fridge and pop it into his mouth. “Hard.”
The two men stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. The homeowner could feel sweat running down his spine. He was so fucked wasn’t he? But Yesenin let out a sigh and crossed his arms. ”So is this what you were talking about when you said he was ‘odd’?” He nodded, still disturbed that he just watched the visitor eat a several month old dead bug. ”Yeah.” The tall man stood there for a few more moments, thinking something over. ”Okay.” He squeezed the young man’s shoulder. “Guess that’s why we’re here. Let’s go get to know your roommate.” *** The homeowner had thought he had made a disastrous mistake the first hour. The pale man was barely cooperative, clearly not interested in the other two humans. Luka was a good sport, he kept things light and friendly while subtly trying to figure out the strange man. Yesenin on the other hand was almost like an interrogator, several times having to be reprimanded by a look from either the homeowner or Luka. The visitor had not opted for his usual spot across from the homeowner, instead opting for the one to his right. He could swear he was trying to slide his chair closer to him in between conversations, but the homeowner stuck his foot out against the chair leg to keep him at a distance. This earned him a piercing glare from the pale man that he ignored, keeping his attention on his guests. Something miraculous happened after dinner though, when Luka pulled out a deck of cards. “Anybody up for a game?” The visitor sat up a little, clear interest flickered in those dark eyes. Yesenin had a beer in one hand, lightening up significantly once he had been offered the beverage. ”Sure,” he rumbled. “What’re you thinking?” Luka was already shuffling the cards, fingers flying with ease across the deck. ”Blackjack.” He offered a smile to the pale man. “Know how to play?” The visitor frowned and reluctantly shook his head. Luka explained the different cards and the goal of the game. “So in other words you’re trying to get as close to 21 as possible, makes sense? Go over and it's a bust. You lose. If the dealer’s closer to 21 you also lose. If you manage to score above the dealer without busting then you win.” The visitor was nodding, paying close attention to the cheerful man. “Yesenin? Mind being the dealer?” The tall man put his drink down and reached for the deck in Luka’s hand. ”Not at all.” He gave the homeowner a mischievous smile. “Hey, wanna make this a bit more interesting?” The homeowner watched the man pull out some crinkled bills and place them on the table. “They’re not much use other than to grab a few pints from the bar, most places aren’t taking cash right now. People are just trading amongst themselves, paying with food and supplies. But let’s say the winner tonight buys the rest drinks, yeah?” Luka laughed and added a wager to the table as well. The homeowner shrugged and fished what he had from his wallet. He couldn’t care less about money anyway.
The pale man on the other hand had nothing to bet with. He looked between the three of them, a frown pulling at his lips. The homeowner pushed away from the table and grabbed three cans of tuna. “Here.” He plopped them down in front of the pale man. He looked offended. ”What? But this isn’t—“ ”You don’t have any money. Just use the damn cans.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, he could tell he was fuming. Yesenin started dealing the cards, everyone at the table receiving two before he placed one of his own face up and one face down. The homeowner looked over his hand. A 5 of hearts and a queen of clubs. Across from him Luka indicated to hit before standing. Yesenin glanced over at the homeowner with a smirk. ”So, what’ll it be, Misha?” He glanced at the dealer's exposed card. He had a 10 of diamonds on the table. ”Hit.” Yesenin passed him a card and he winced. It was a seven. His hand was a bust. He glanced over at the visitor next to him. The pale man was staring intensely down at his cards. Yesenin cleared his throat when he didn’t make a move. ”Buddy they’re not gonna grow legs and run away. Hit or stand?” The pale man looked up at him slowly, wrinkling his nose. The homeowner fought back a smile. It was funny to see him on the receiving end for once, having aggravated the homeowner for over a week straight. ”Stand,” he finally decided. Yesenin revealed his second card: a 2 of clubs. He hit and received an 8 before standing. ”And that’s twenty,” he announced smugly. “You lose.” He took one of the pale man’s cans as well as the homeowner’s and Luka’s wager. The pale man looked murderous, gripping the table with white knuckles. Yesenin took another swig of his beer, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “Alright,” he leaned forward and dealt again. “Place your bets.” He smiled at the pale man, who responded by loudly plopping another can into the betting pool. He stared the tall man down in defiance. The homeowner watched him in amusement and added his bet to the pool as well. He had a better hand this time, starting at 19. He stood and gave Luka an apologetic look when he accidentally overdrew. ”Damn,” he laughed. “Luck’s not with me tonight.” The pale man was staring hard at his cards again, glancing between the homeowner’s hand, Luka’s and the dealer. “Hit.” Yesenin sucked in a breath and shook his head. ”Mmm. Bad luck there my good man. That’s a bust.” He took another can from the visitor. The pale man’s face was flushed, brows creased and shoulders tense. He was not taking the losses well. “Let’s see how you fared.” He spoke to the homeowner as he revealed his second card. He hit twice more and lost. “Looks like you win!” He gave a cut of the pool to the homeowner. The third game he didn’t fare any better, losing his third and final can to Yesenin. The homeowner and Luka had won, Luka managed a natural blackjack and the homeowner
squeaking by with 18. He was pretty sure he watched the pale man go through the five stages of grief in the span of thirty seconds, his head falling forward into his hands with a groan. Luka patted him on the back and tried to encourage him, but he glared at the man through his fingers. Yesenin was gearing up for another round, he guessed the pale man would have to sit this one out. Before the cards could be dealt cool fingers wrapped around his wrist. He whipped around to see desperate eyes staring back at him. ”Give me one more can,” he pleaded. He tried to shake his hand off. ”No, I don’t have a lot of extra food to spare.” Luka tried to offer to share some of his winnings with him but the visitor ignored him. The grip on his wrist tightened. ”Please,” he begged, face completely serious. “I’ll win this one for you. I’ll get them all back. I just need one more.” His breath caught in his throat, a weird feeling in his chest. Something about the intensity of his gaze caught him off guard. Knowing that Yesenin and Luka were watching this odd scene made him flush red in the face. He stood up suddenly, both to remove himself from the pale man’s grip and to give him an excuse to cool down. He walked out the kitchen and threw open the basement trapdoor. In the privacy of the basement he rested his head against the cool stone wall. Why was he doing this? He rubbed at his warm face and groaned. He really was going crazy. He grabbed a jar of pickled tomatoes and started back up the steps. When he returned, all three men turned to see what he brought. He set the large jar down in front of the pale man. He pointed a finger at him, deathly serious. ”Don’t lose this.” The visitor smiled sweetly and pulled the jar close to his chest. ”I don’t intend to.” He heard Yesenin make a comment under his breath about his roommate having a gambling problem. When he dealt the cards for the fourth game he noticed something had changed in the visitor. His face softened, attention focused solely on everyone’s cards. Then his eyes lit up, like something clicked into place in his mind. ”Hey,” Yesenin called playfully, gesturing towards the betting pool. “No hard feelings if I take that last jar?” He was expecting that comment to rile the other up, but to the homeowner’s surprise the pale man slowly smiled, eyes twinkling with impish delight. He narrowed his eyes at the visitor, trying to figure out what he was up to. He caught his eye and had the audacity to wink at him. ”I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Hit.” Yesenin passed him a card. He looked over the cards on the table again and decided to stand, which worked out for him this round. The wicked grin he gave when he won against the dealer made Luka laugh and clap him on the shoulder, which seemed to throw the pale man off for a second before recovering. Yesenin handed him back a can of tuna. The next rounds flew by, amazingly the pale man was mostly winning. And the few times he lost, he worked hard to earn it back the next round. Yesenin continued to try and rile him up,
and surprisingly he started to fire back. His last quip had Yesenin throwing his head back in laughter. ”You’re not so bad kid!” The pale man had a small yet smug smile, his winnings piled up in a large stack in front of him. True to his word he had reclaimed all of his original tuna cans, as well as most of the cash. The homeowner felt a weird sense of pride watching him, he told himself he was just glad he didn’t lose any of their dwindling food supplies. No other reason. The money was pushed in front of him. He looked over at the pale man in confusion. ”What are you doing?” He tried to push it back but the visitor stopped him. ”I don’t need any of it.” ”I can’t take this.” It felt wrong. Like a handout or a bribe. He didn’t need anything else weighing on his conscience. The pale man huffed, exasperated with him. ”You and your strange self-preservation. Just consider it an exchange then. Rent money.” He didn’t charge rent. He made that perfectly clear when that insufferable lawyer guy tried to strong arm him into an official renter’s contract. That was before his brains were plastered across the ceiling. Yesenin grabbed the homeowner’s shoulder. “Hey, let’s go out for drinks. Have ourselves a little celebration. I know the perfect place.” The homeowner looked down all the prize money he felt dirty for keeping. If he spent it on his friends he wouldn’t feel so shitty. ”Alright. Let’s go.” *** He was glad the bar wasn’t packed, the atmosphere and noise was being kept at a tolerable level. Most patrons were quietly chatting amongst each other. There were a few rambunctious drunks further in the back, cheering and sloshing their drinks as they sloppily attempted to sing along to the bar tunes. Others looked broken, as if life had worn them down to a point of no return. Yesenin was one of them at one time. The homeowner remembered how miserable he was when he first met him. Bitter and battered by the state of the world. He was noticeably happier these days, even though he was still prone to macabre ramblings. The bartender knew Yesenin by name, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The bus ride over had been a lot more tolerable, there were definitely less passengers at night. He had mostly been listening to Yesenin talk about the different refugees staying at his apartment complex but he checked on the visitor by his side occasionally. He had been relieved that Luka kept him occupied, too busy teaching him the rules of poker. What he found astonishing was how invested he was in learning the game. The homeowner was seated at a small table near the front of the bar. The pale man was eyeing the place in disinterest, he wasn’t sure why he agreed to come in the first place. In the end he took the seat next to him, looking incredibly bored. He had worn the windbreaker over his sweater for tonight, and the homeowner reluctantly admitted it suited him. He had also
worn his shoes, which the homeowner could tell he hated. Luka was up at the bar, probably helping Yesenin grab the drinks. He looked over at the visitor, a question that had been eating at him since their last blackjack game was begging to be answered, but he didn’t want to ask it in front of the others. “Hey,” he tapped the wooden surface in front of the pale man. The visitor focused on him immediately. “How’d you do it?” The pale man blinked and cocked his head. The homeowner checked to make sure the other two men weren’t nearby. “You know, back at the house. How’d you keep winning like that.” The visitor’s face lit up with a cheeky smile. He leaned closer to the homeowner, his instinct was to back away but he stayed still, too curious of his answer. “I figured it out.” He rolled his eyes in frustration. He wished he would just get to the point. But the visitor thrived on attention. ”Figured what out?” ”The cards. I realized how many cards there were, looked at what was already on the table, and kept track of what had already been played.” His mouth dropped open. ”You were card counting? By your fourth game?” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “You know people get their ass beat doing that.” The pale man frowned. ”Why? It’s a mathematical strategy.” ”Yeah but people don’t like it when they’re suddenly out a lot of money because you can keep track of the cards and they can’t.” The visitor propped his arms on the table, resting his chin over his hands. He gave the homeowner a half-lidded smirk. ”I can’t help that they’re of a lower intelligence than you and I.” The homeowner frowned. ”I can’t card count.” The visitor was still giving him that strange smile, never once taking his eyes off the other man. ”Hmm. Perhaps. But you aren’t like them.” He never got to ask him what he meant, Luka had returned to the table. He brought two foaming pints to their table, smiling to himself as he did. He gave one to the homeowner and one the pale man. The homeowner took a drink immediately, but the visitor sniffed the drink and wrinkled his nose. In the end he drank it as well, though the homeowner was going to have to warn him to pace himself, he’d make himself sick if he continued at that pace. And the last thing he wanted was to clean up a bunch of vomit. ”So,” he beamed at the pale man. “Mikhail two—“ He held up two fingers and the homeowner groaned. ”Don’t call him that.” Luka laughed and patted his shoulder apologetically. ”Only teasing, promise!” Luka was a kind man, his jokes were all good-natured. “Doesn’t that make you sad though? Not having a name of your own?” The pale man shrugged and
downed the rest of the glass. The homeowner was both impressed and horrified. ”No. I don’t desire one.” The cheerful man hummed, tapping his fingers across his cheek in thought. ”But what about all the bonds that were in your life before? Friends, family, or a lover.” The homeowner choked, trying to hold his coughing fit inside as best he could. He had never even considered the pale man and lover in the same sentence, much less if he had one before the cataclysm. Actually he wanted to stop thinking about this as soon as possible. The pale man was frowning. Luka sighed and continued, “I can’t imagine it. That is a difficult loss to bear.” ”No. I cannot mourn what I cannot recall. And so I exist as I am now. I feel no sadness about this outcome.” Luka smiled at him, but the homeowner could tell he felt enough sadness for the both of them. Funny how one lacked empathy, and the other had too much. Yesenin finally joined them, clutching an armful of beers. He hadn’t even finished his first! The pale man reached for another and downed it in record speed. He was glad when Yesenin was the one to warn him to slow down. Yesenin was a beast. The homeowner had been so wrapped up in keeping up with him that he hadn’t realized how many beers in he was. His head was spinning, yet Yesenin was knocking another back triumphantly. The only one who seemed to be able to match him was the visitor. Other than a lopsided grin, he was handling the alcohol very well. “So FEMA eh?” Yesenin leaned towards his roommate. “They attacked you?” He was so glad that he managed to warn the pale man of the backstory he had to come up for him on the spot. The visitor snickered like he said something funny. “Oh yeah. For sure.” He shot him a warning glare, his voice hadn’t been genuine at all. Luckily the other men didn’t pick up on it. “I bet that was traumatic,” Luka cut in with sympathy in his eyes. The visitor nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m sure I will be scarred for life.” He kicked the pale man under the table causing him to have to abort a laugh, pale hand covering his face last second. Yesenin regarded the man with uncertainty. ”What exactly happened?” ”They beat me aaaall over.” He gestured to his face. “Vicously.” He looked away for a moment then added. “With sticks. They had to reattach my head.” He mimed the action which sent the table into chaos. Luka and Yesenin were bursting out with raucous laughter, the taller man nearly falling out of his seat. The homeowner’s head thudded onto the sticky table top, unable to handle the second hand embarrassment any longer. Eventually the pale man discovered the poker tables in the back and wandered over, curious to try the game himself. He watched him go with a frown, half tempted to follow him. As the night went on he found himself missing the man’s company already. Wait, no. He didn’t miss him, he had two friends right in front of him. He shook his head and slapped his cheeks to try
to sober up and attempt to dislodge the strange man from his brain like a parasite. He attempted to focus on Luka and Yesenin’s conversation, squinting at them like that would somehow help him hear them better. They were so caught up in each other that the homeowner felt like he was intruding. He swallowed thickly, his tongue felt foreign in his mouth. This is one of the reasons he didn’t like to leave the house. He remembered feeling this way countless times before, third- wheeling to other people’s friendships. Eventually he had stopped going out and those friendships faded. He furrowed his brow, leaning over the table. Yesenin and Luka weren’t like shallow high school friends though. He just needed to make an effort, stop closing himself off. He didn’t want this friendship to fade. He had to be better, had to make it work this time. He opened his mouth to blurt something out to contribute to the conversation. He never got the words out. Wood splintered in front of him prompting him to shield his face out of reflex. Something had crashed and landed by his feet. He slowly uncovered his face and peered down. The pale man was blinking owlishly up at him, wood splinters stuck in his hair. He stared at him unmoving for a few moments, his foggy brain desperately trying to catch up with what was happening. He drew in a breath as it dawned on him. ”You card counted, didn’t you?” The pale man gave a small nod from his spot on the floor. Yelling was breaking out nearby, three furious young men were standing where the visitor had come flying. Yesenin shot them a look and groaned. ”Oh God, not those boys again.” The homeowner dragged his eyes up to look at Yesenin, it felt like his head weighed a thousand pounds. The lanky man turned his back on the young men. “They start a fight every time they come in here. Don know what they’re trying to prove,” he slurred. ”They want to fight?” Yesenin leaned over to get a look at the pale man, who had asked the question. ”Yeah, they’re the real showy type. Gotta prove they’re man enough or some shit. Just stay with us and they’ll lose interest.” But the homeowner knew what the pale man was thinking, familiar with that frenzied look in his eyes. He peered down at the visitor, amused despite himself. The visitor grinned back up at him, almost like he was asking for permission which made him shake his head, a quiet laugh bubbling up. ”Okay,” alcohol impairing his speech. “Jus don kill em.” The speed of which the visitor shot up pulled another laugh out of him. The next second he was launching himself over the other tables, the boys jeering as he approached. They had no idea what they were messing with, the homeowner hiding his smile with his hand. Those cocky grins were quickly transformed into ones of surprise. He watched as three grown men tried and failed to overpower one visitor, the pale man grabbing the one hanging off his back and throwing him over his head like a sack of potatoes, shattering another table in the process. Yesenin watched him stop a man mid punch and twist the guy's arm behind his back until he squealed. ”I see why you have him guarding the house.” One guy tried to sneak up on the visitor, busting a chair across his shoulders while he was distracted. The next moment the kid was
flying across the bar. Spectators were getting rowdy, cheers breaking out across the bar. The boys were looking worse for wear, but none were willing to back down. The pale man was a little battered, the best hit they’d managed so far was a small cut above the eye, but he seemed to be having the time of his life. The three moved in on him together, which did put the pale man into a defensive state, he couldn’t move other than to block the punches. The crowd was growing to be obnoxious, the screams ringing in his ears. The pale man was knocked back into a table to the right of the homeowner. The two locked eyes, the visitor wiping some blood from his cheek. ”Havin fun?” The visitor grabbed one of his attackers and wrenched his arm so their positions were now flipped, the man pressed against the table, arm overextended painfully backwards. “It’s entertaining, yes.” ”Hey,” he scolded. “Nooo breakin bones.” The pale man pouted, he had fully intended to snap off each one of the man’s delicate fingers. ”Boring.” ”Hey!” One of the men pointed at the homeowner. “That guy’s with him!” He barely had time to duck before one of the men was lunging at him. He staggered to his feet, disoriented for a moment. A meaty hand yanked his shoulder around followed by a fist straight to the face. He stumbled backwards, hand flying up to his jaw. His heart was beating in his chest, vision sharpening as he forced himself to focus on his surroundings. His assailant thought he had the upper hand, rushing forward fists raised. He stepped out of the way and returned fire, splitting the guy’s lip and knocking the air from him with a punch to the gut. The young man crumpled to his feet with a groan. He spun around, heavy steps alerting him of the other man from behind. He jumped to the side, stumbling over his own feet. The man tried to make a grab for him and left him an opening. He threw a punch hard and quick, feeling the man’s nose crunch under his fist. He drew back, fists still raised when two hands grabbed his face and yanked him forward. ”Yes!” The pale man was grinning down at him, a wild look in his eyes. “You feel it? Your blood rushing, your heart racing! How much stronger we are than them?” He forgot how to breathe. He nodded, captivated by the other man. He squeezed his face tighter, manic laughter tearing from his throat. “Of course you do! So perfect, so perfect for me!” The homeowner felt his face go red and he snorted, trying and failing to hold back his laughter. He cracked at the absurdity of it all, giggling uncontrollably. The visitor looked at him in pure adoration. He released the homeowner and stepped out of the way when the last man barreled towards them. The homeowner managed to block a hefty blow with his arms, answering with two hits of his own right in the man’s sternum. When he bowed forward wheezing, the pale man grabbed his face and head butted him hard. It made everyone including the homeowner wince, but the visitor gave him a dopey smile and a thumbs up, his own blood smeared across his face. The two were laughing again, the pale man having thrown an arm around the
homeowner’s shoulder at one point, his stumbling movements pulling them haphazardly to the side. ”Hey!” The bar manager was storming across the wreckage in their direction. “You two better get outta here! I’ll call the cops!” The two froze. They looked at each other for a moment, the next they were bolting out into the street, the manager hot on their heels. He could hear the old man yelling after him but his attention was solely pinned on the visitor next to him. His arm was thrown over the pale man’s shoulder, the other man’s fingers firmly fisted in the fabric of his blue sweater in a drunken attempt to support him. Neither could stop laughing, so caught up in the moment they weren’t even paying attention to where they were going. The homeowner had never seen the pale man like this before, a genuine smile so sweet and warm lighting up across his face so intense it made his chest hurt. His raven hair was mussed and damp with sweat, but it framed his face in a way so charming. They nearly careened into a storm drain, igniting a whole new wave of laughter. He pulled the visitor closer, pressing himself flush against his side. That mischievous twinkle was back in his eyes, it was becoming one of his favorite expressions. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to find another man beautiful, but right now, in this very moment, he truly was. Beautiful.
Chapter 5: So Wrong, So Right Chapter Summary The homeowner deals with some concerning thoughts about his roommate. The pale man eats the forever weed brownie. Beta read by SoupSalad and Shunuko Follow me @Whimsywyvern on Twitter if you want to see updates, ask questions, or see art related to the fic Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes The homeowner groaned, pain radiating from his skull. God he was so sore, his body protesting every slight movement. Vaguely he recalled the bar fight, he was going to have to apologize to Yesenin and Luka for that. He tried to crack open one crusty eye and hissed, the morning light was agony for his headache. He laid still for several minutes, trying to pull himself together. Where was he right now? He was definitely in a bed, he hoped to God it was his own. His mouth tasted like shit, he must have puked at some point in the night. Gingerly, he tried to open his eyes once more, fighting the urge to give in to his hangover and wallow in bed. Okay he recognized that ceiling. He was back in his bedroom. How he got there he couldn’t say. He felt disgusting, still wearing the same clothes from the day before. The bedroom was cast in a warm golden glow, the old curtains doing a terrible job keeping out the morning light. He tried to lift his arm up to wipe at his face but found the arm pinned to his side. He paused, his thoughts slow and sluggish. It was probably the cat. Guilt weighed heavy on his chest, feeling partially responsible for what happened. How could he have let himself get that wasted? He acted like a fool, so caught up in the moment that he behaved like a dumb teenager. Wait. Something else was weighing heavy across his chest. He glanced down sharply, his head protesting violently against the action. There was an arm around him. A man’s arm. His blood ran cold, slowly realizing that there was an unfamiliar weight next to him. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, a cold sweat breaking out all over. Slowly he turned his head to the side, swallowing hard to fight the bile rising in his throat. He flinched as his nose brushed against black hair, a face was tucked into the side of his neck. He flinched feeling the sleeping man’s warm breath across his bare skin. He inched away to get a better look at the stranger, though he had a pretty good idea who it was. The pale man was in his bed, drooling onto his pillow. He stared, unable to move for a long time.
The minutes ticked by, the buzzing in his ears growing louder and louder. His breathing quickened, a hand flew up to cradle his aching head. What the fuck happened last night? What was he doing here? His panic lessened when he realized he was still fully clothed, boots and all. At least he could scratch out one possibility. The visitor was positioned almost like he was thrown on top of the comforter, or perhaps he collapsed onto it. He knew better than to come in here, it was his only rule! Anger swelled in his chest, so furious he briefly considered making good on his threat he had made their first day in the house together. No, he couldn’t fully blame him for this. The pale man had been drunk— both of them had been honestly. He hadn’t gotten that plastered since high school, it was a wonder he hadn’t wound up in a ditch somewhere. Still, he couldn’t handle this right now. Seeing the visitor lying in his bed was doing something to him, an odd feeling stirring that must have been rising nausea. He had to get out of here, he couldn’t look at him right now. He gently wriggled out of the visitor’s grip, his arm dropping down onto the mattress with a heavy plop. He shuffled over to the door and made the mistake of glancing back. He didn’t look like a monster when he was like this, features soft and open in a way it never was when he was awake. His face was a little scuffed up, bruising and a little dried blood peppered here and there. It didn’t take away from his looks, in fact if he hadn’t known he was a visitor beforehand he’d say he looked like a man. A man in his bed. Sleeping. In his bed. He could feel heat blooming across his face, he refused to acknowledge why. He pulled the door open with more force than necessary. He needed a glass of water, this hangover was making him crazy. He wobbled down the hallway, still feeling like shit. He eased the kitchen door open and his heart dropped. Two faces were looking back at him, one unamused and one a knowing smile. ”Soooo,” Yesenin drew the word out, leaning back in his chair. “You had fun last night.” He swallowed hard. Why did he say it like that? God, what did he do? Sweat was beading across his brow, a cold dread sitting in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like the way they were looking at him. ”Huh?” He responded dumbly. Luka looked like he was fighting back a laugh. Yesenin looked him up and down before sighing. ”How about you go clean yourself up first, you look like shit. Then we’ll talk.” *** He had already guzzled down three glasses of water and was nursing his fourth. They had moved into the office, Luka insisting the darker room would be easier on his aching head. The homeowner sat alone on the couch while Luka and Yesenin sat in the two armchairs by the bookcase. He couldn’t help but assume this was an intervention, though their relaxed postures indicated no anger or frustration towards him. Yesenin hadn’t said a word since he sat down, focused on reading a newspaper. Luka was chatting away about something unimportant, his voice slowly wearing down his patience. His nerves were fried, he needed answers now.
”Why is he in there?” He gestured frantically towards his bedroom. Luka looked surprised and gave an apologetic smile. ”Oh that’s my fault. I didn’t know where to put him and he was really heavy. Yesenin was already settled in the living room and I’m used to the office so I just—“ he mimed a throwing motion. “Plopped him on the most comfortable spot I could find. You two seemed so close, I figured you didn’t mind.” He stared unblinking at the cheerful man. He did mind. He minded quite a bit. Yesenin cleared his throat. ”To be fair, he was unconscious so he was kinda hard to maneuver.” He turned his frigid stare to the tall man. After a few seconds of awkward silence Yesenin looked away and huffed, “I knew we should’ve stuck him in the bathtub.” ”No he’s too tall, he wouldn’t fit!” ”That politician fit! If we folded his legs up then maybe—“ ”That’s just cruel!” They both laughed at that. The homeowner was growing steadily more impatient, drumming his fingers against his knee as he waited. “So Misha.” His eyes snapped to Luka, he didn’t like that sing-song tone. The man was smirking back at him, a devilish glimmer in his eye. “Do you remember your night out in town?” He gripped his pants leg but kept his expression stony. ”I remember drinking… And getting into a fight.” He didn’t add that he had experienced some dubious drunken thoughts about his roommate. That was between him and God, if he was real. ”So you don’t remember leaving us behind and terrorizing the city?” He blanched at the taller man’s words, a familiar dread creeping back in. ”No.” He grit his teeth, feeling like any honor he had he probably managed to tarnish it forever in one night. Yesenin folded up his paper and laid it down, crossing one long leg over the other. ”We followed you two nutcases out of the bar. Mind you—“ he pointed sternly “— You both are banned now, so good luck with that. There aren’t many bars left so guess that sucks for you.” Luka rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “So you two were running through the streets, cackling like mad men and you almost got hit by a car.” “Your roommate was hit by a car,” Luka cut in. “Don’t worry, he just rolled over the hood. He seemed fine.” The homeowner couldn’t hide his horror. Luka ignored this and continued, “You both took off after that, it was really hard to keep up with you.” Yesenin picked up the conversation. ”You know that church at the edge of town with the really tall steeple?” He nodded slowly. “Well your roommate got it in his head that he was gonna climb all the way to the top of that church.” Exasperated, the homeowner threw out his arms.
”Why?” ”To impress you.” The homeowner scoffed. ”In what world would that impress me?” Luka grinned. ”Oh, you were very impressed.” The homeowner’s jaw clicked shut, eyes averting to the floor. “You even clapped.” He mimed the action which caused the homeowner to flush. He could vaguely recall that happening. “He fell off of course.” Yesenin deadpanned. The homeowner was back to looking horrified. He was getting whiplash from this conversation. “I can’t believe he didn’t break anything.” ”Except those priceless statues. Remember? Those stone angels out in the courtyard?” ”Oh yeah, the historic ones. Oh and one of you tried to steal a farmer’s chicken but we gave it back. He was pretty pissed.” The longer this conversation lasted the shittier he felt. He gripped his head and groaned. ”Please tell me there’s no more.” ”Well almost.” Yesenin tapped his fingers against the armrest as he recalled the last few events. “You got sick and puked in an old woman’s garden. Then you passed out and your roommate tried to carry you home. It took Luka and I an absurd amount of time to convince him to get on the bus with us.” ”He really didn’t want to listen.” The cheerful man continued. “Wouldn’t even let us near you during the ride back.” ”You would’ve thought you were dying the way he was holding you. Kinda had me worried with the way he was talking to himself. We had to wait until he fell asleep to separate you two. Which he did in your hallway by the way. Absolutely faceplanted onto the floor.” Yesenin looked over at Luka. “And that about wraps it up, yeah? Did I forget anything?” The homeowner didn’t pay attention to Luka’s response, too focused on trying not to die of shame. ”You okay Misha?” He groaned in response. ”I’m never drinking again.” That earned a barking laugh from Yesenin. ”Actually I think this was good for you.” He glared at the tall man. He gave him an easy smile in response. “My friend, everyone needs to let loose once in a while. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you enjoy yourself that much, I didn’t even know you could laugh! It was nice to see you act your age.” The homeowner couldn’t help feeling affronted which made Luka chuckle. ”How is being ‘drunk and disorderly’ acting my age?” Yesenin offered a small smile, a far off look in his eyes.
”Misha when I was your age I was an absolute menace. My friends and I were young and bored and decided to make it everyone’s problem. The things we got up to…” he sighed wistfully. “Those were some of the best times of my life. You deserve to make some memories of your own. One’s that don’t involve fear and bloodshed. You’re still young, so don’t waste your youth holed up at home acting like a sour eighty year old man.” He hated that he was both angry at being compared to an old man and also relieved his words helped to ease his shame. There was a series of thumps and a pained curse, almost like someone had fallen in the hallway. The three men grew quiet, listening as the person groaned and shuffled towards the room. The door to the office creaked open slowly revealing the most bedraggled visitor he had ever seen. One side of his hair was standing straight up, the part that he had slept on. He almost cracked a grin at that, momentarily forgetting his own misery due to how ridiculous the other man looked. His eyes were squeezed shut, nose crinkled in displeasure. Luka greeted him in his usual cheery tone. ”Good morning!” The pale man recoiled, holding up a finger in the man’s direction. ”Too loud,” he croaked, making his way over to the couch. He eased onto it slowly, as if the whole room was rocking back and forth like a ship out at sea. He nearly laid down on top of the homeowner, only pausing when he admonished him. ”Watch it!” He had the audacity to press a finger to the human’s lips, a pained grimace still etched across his face. He should push him away. He didn’t. ”No talking.” The homeowner watched as he curled into a ball next to him, probably trying to make himself small enough so they both could fit. Unfortunately he was so tall that the top of his head brushed against the other man’s thigh. The contact was like fire for the homeowner, incredibly hard to ignore. Luka, who seemed amused by the visitor’s behavior, was laughing to himself. Yesenin just shook his head and went back to thumbing through his paper. ”Luka and I will be heading back to the city in a little bit. It’s been kinda nice to get away from all the noise. Not gonna lie though, your house gives me the creeps at night. It’s too quiet.” ”Can we be quiet now? At this particular moment?” They ignored the visitor’s weak protests, instead opting to talk about which was creepier: the city at night or the country. Eventually the man gave up and used one of the threadbare throw pillows to muffle their conversation. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the poor bastard, his hearing was so much more sensitive than theirs so he had to be in agony. Another laugh from Luka had the pale man pressing the pillow harder against his head, mumbling something darkly to himself. Despite his best efforts to ignore the other man, the action caused him to crack a faint smile, deciding to offer the visitor a sympathetic pat on his shoulder. That made him stop grumbling at least. Even though the homeowner was mortified over his drunken escapades, he found that he didn’t regret inviting the two over. The company had been appreciated. At one point Luka offered to make breakfast, and being a good host he went with him to assist. The pale man didn’t join them at the table, he assumed the visitor was still too ill to entertain the company. He did at least leave some coffee in the pot for him.
After a while Luka and Yesenin started collecting their belongings, the taller man waiting out on the porch. The homeowner stepped out to join him, the older man finishing the last of his cigarette. He offered the young man one of his own but he declined. That was one habit he didn’t want to pick back up if he could help it. The two stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the crisp autumn air. ”Well,” the man drawled, crushing out the dregs of his cigarette. “He’s definitely an odd duck, but I don’t think he means you any harm.” He glanced over, arching a brow. ”Yeah? What makes you say that?” ”For one thing, he allowed you to drag him all over God’s green earth last night and he did so willingly. All those places you two went? All you. He just followed. And he was quite protective of you. Held you like a baby.” Yesenin was grinning at him, the homeowner frowning deeply. He wondered if he’d ever live that down. He appreciated Yesenin’s words, but truth be told he didn’t need any more convincing. The visitor’s actions during their time together did not indicate any ill intent or ulterior motives. He was weird and infuriating but strangely enough he enjoyed the company. He needed to work on his social behavior though, his previous interactions with other humans were unacceptable and quite frankly gave him away as a visitor more than his appearance. Yesenin looked back towards the front door. “Guess I should see if Luka’s ready to go. He opened the door but Luka was already in the hall, chatting away with the pale man who looked like he wanted nothing more than for him to stop talking. He noticed the two of them standing in the doorway and flashed a bright smile. Before he left he patted the visitor’s shoulder and said, “Good luck!” Then made his way to the entryway. The homeowner wondered what they were talking about, curious about the confused expression the pale man had. ”Thanks for coming.” The homeowner didn’t know whether to shake their hands or just stand there awkwardly. He wasn’t used to having friends. They decided for him fortunately, Yesenin clapping him on the back and Luka offering a one armed hug. ”Thanks for having us. This was nice, let’s do this again soon.” He nodded and promised to call to check-in on them. He waited outside to watch them leave, staying until he could no longer make them out on the horizon. He really was so grateful to have people like them in his life. He didn’t deserve it. He walked back into the house and saw the pale man was still waiting out in the hall, Eyes closed and leaning against the wall. ”You okay there?” The pale man grimaced and held his hands out in front of him. ”Human. I am begging you. Cease. Your. Infernal. Yapping.” He couldn’t help a chuckle, the pale man was not handling his hangover well at all.
”Take a shower. You’ll feel a lot better after,” he murmured as quietly as he could. The pale man grumbled to himself but pushed off the wall, wobbling over to the bathroom. He was in the kitchen feeding the cat when he reappeared, looking a lot better than he had before. He took both the glass of water and coffee when it was offered but refused the breakfast, claiming his stomach was still out of sorts. ”Is this,” he gestured to his head. “Pain normal?” The homeowner looked up from the dishes he was washing. ”Yeah, but your’s is probably worse because you got hit by a car and fell off a roof.” The visitor wasn’t surprised by this, simply nodding slowly like this was perfectly normal. The movement must have aggravated his head because he stopped suddenly and winced. ”I don’t understand why humans do this to themselves.” The homeowner was wondering the same thing. He didn’t plan on drinking like that ever again. *** The day was spent recovering, both opting to retire early in the evening. The homeowner was afraid the pale man would ask about how or why he had been in the bedroom but he never did, choosing to opt for his usual spot on the couch. He wasn’t much of a conversation partner right now anyway, he continued to insist the homeowner minimize talking as much as possible. His subdued nature didn’t last, as he was banging on the homeowner’s door first thing in the morning. He flinched at the noise, scowling at the interruption. He had actually been sleeping peacefully for once, usually plagued by nightmares. ”What!?” He snapped. The cat stretched lazily next to him, unbothered by the commotion. “The mailman wants to see you. I tried to get him to leave but he said he’s got something important for you and he’s refusing to give it to me.” He groaned and sat up, throwing the covers off with more force than necessary. He yanked on a sweater and threw open the door, not even bothering with proper pants. Boxers would have to do. The pale man took up the entire doorframe, looking rather pissed himself. “I should tear his arms off then take the stupid papers.” He pointed in warning at the visitor. ”No threatening the mailman. That’s a crime.” The visitor growled but stepped aside reluctantly. He padded over to the front door and opened it. The mailman was waiting for him, a hefty packet under his arm. ”Ah. G’morning sir. Restricted delivery for Mikhail. Rules are rules, I can only have you sign for it.” He held out a slip of paper for the homeowner to sign. Afterwards he handed over the packet, which to his surprise ended up being the ration card. He popped the seal and thumbed through the contents. The card itself was a small slip of paper, small enough to go into his wallet. The other documents seemed to be detailed instructions on everything from allotted shopping times to simple recipes to conserve supplies. He was so absorbed in his papers that he almost missed the mailman clearing his throat.
”So, he started. “The other guy, he your brother or something?” ”Roommate,” he corrected. The mailman nodded, absentmindedly adjusting his cap. ”Well, he’s… different.” His shoulders fell, fighting hard to keep his face neutral. ”What did he do?” ”Well the other day he opened the door and pulled the mail directly out of my hands and shut the door. Didn’t say nothin. And today he tried to do the same thing. Thought he was gonna hit me when I said he couldn’t have it.” He made a mental note to never allow the visitor to interact with the mailman again. ”Sorry, he’s not very social. He didn’t mean it.” The mailman didn’t seem convinced but he accepted the answer and shrugged. ”Well tell him he doesn’t have to follow me back to the mailtruck, it’s creepy.” ”When did he—?” He stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Yes sir, I’ll make sure there’ll be no further problems.” The mailman nodded and started walking back to his truck. When he opened the door the pale man was standing nearby, likely listening in on the conversation. ”You have got to stop harassing the mailman.” The pale man looked miffed, refusing to meet the homeowner’s eyes. ”I don’t like him.” The homeowner fought back a laugh despite his frustration. ”Why? What could you possibly have against him?” ”He keeps coming up to the house.” ”He’s a mailman! He goes to everyone’s house!” The visitor’s frown deepened, eyes darkening. ”That’s worse. I don’t trust him.” The homeowner rolled his eyes. ”You’re impossible. Just leave him alone and let the guy do his job.” He started for the kitchen, determined to make the coffee before the pale bastard had a chance to fuck it up. Turns out he just liked it that way, claiming he’s always made it that strong. If so it’s a wonder he could taste anything at all, his version of the beverage just about knocked the homeowner out. As he finished up breakfast he read over some of the papers included with the ration card. When he saw how little they were allowed per trip he cursed. ”Damn.” The pale man looked up from his game of solitaire, the card deck had been gifted to him courtesy Luka. ”What is it?” He reread the papers just to be sure.
”They’re really restricting how much you can get at a time. I usually stockpile so I don’t have to go very often, but if this is the limit we’re going to have to make the trip every week.” The pale man hummed and placed a card on the table. “And it looks like they’ve assigned us to a store in the city. I used to just go to the general store up the road, it had most of what I needed. Tried to avoid the city if I could help it.” He remembered the little family that ran the store, an elderly married couple and their two sons. He thought back to the night where that mad vigilante had set every building in his path ablaze. “I bet that maniac torched it.” The pale man looked up, pausing for a moment. ”Was this an old grey building? Wrap-around porch and rocking chairs out front?” The homeowner blinked in surprise. ”Yeah. And it had an old vending machine by the door. Bars on the windows.” The visitor nodded. ”I have seen it. Frightened humans took it over, kicking out the owners of the building. Made it into a fortress to keep out visitors. The building still stands. However, it is damaged and abandoned now. All the humans that once occupied it are gone.” He must have noticed the homeowner’s accusatory look and added. “I had no hand in whatever befell those people. I didn’t even slay the original family, I had different orders at the time.” The homeowner hated that he was relieved the visitor had nothing to do with it. He had to remind himself that one family spared did not make up for the blood on his hands, an untold amount of people had been sent to an early grave by his means. Though he had operated under orders from an unknown higher authority, did that make it right? Was it any different than when humans killed each other in wartime? The pale man had enjoyed the killing though, that alone made things complicated. He needed to stop thinking about it, this wasn’t helping his current headspace. He changed the subject, needing to get off this topic. ”We’re practically out of supplies. Well, other than potatoes and whatever cans are left in the basement. We probably should go to the store today.” If the pale man noticed his avoidance of the previous topic he didn’t show it. Instead he just nodded, placing another card. ”So be it. I will accompany you.” He paused, expression turning grim. “Will this require shoes?” The homeowner narrowed his eyes. ”Yes.” The visitor sulked at that. *** The bus ride over was short, less than ten minutes. The store they were assigned was far larger than the general store he used to go to. He dreaded how busy it was likely to be. As they stepped off the bus he noticed how the building had been quickly yet shoddily patched up, it had not escaped the cataclysm unscathed. What shocked him most was the armed FEMA agents standing by the doors. ”Are they really necessary?” He whispered to the visitor. The man shrugged, his gaze fixed on the building itself.
”Humans act selfishly when confronted by hardship. Many would snatch up all they could and leave nothing for the others. An armed guard is enough to deter most cowards from plundering the store.” He supposed he had a point. He was tense as he passed the FEMA agents, but the two guards paid them no mind. Inside the store was busy, yet nowhere near overcrowded. He was thankful they had thought ahead to assign scheduled days they could shop. He grabbed a cart and pulled out the ration card and his list. ”Okay, we only have a set amount of items we can get per week. We have to make sure we shop strategically.” He looked over to see the visitor had disappeared, no longer positioned at his side. His heart rate picked up, jumping to the worst conclusions. Had FEMA stopped him at the door and he didn’t notice? No, he was positive that the pale man entered the store with him. Had he run off? He thought about the pale man harassing random shoppers and exposing himself as a visitor while FEMA was less than ten feet away. Now that could be possible. He hurried through the store, peering into each aisle as he passed. After the fourth aisle he was starting to get frantic, thinking of abandoning the cart altogether so he could run through the store. He froze when he finally spotted a tall figure cradling an insane amount of pickle jars in his arms. ”What are you doing?” He hissed, panic turning into anger. The pale man smiled and tried to drop his prize into the cart. “No no no no, we are not getting all of those!” The visitor tilted his head. ”Why not? The card states we can get eight cans or jars.” ”We are not getting eight jars of pickles.” But despite his insistence the pale man was happily loading the jars into the cart. “No, you don’t understand,” he insisted, grabbing the last jar out of his hands. “We can’t waste everything on pickles, we have to get other things.” The visitor looked unamused. ”But I like pickles.” He wanted to strangle the man right now. He tried several more times to get through to the visitor, but the efforts were all in vain. The visitor stopped him from putting the jars back, to anyone watching it probably looked like two grown men playing keep away. He got desperate in the end. ”Please let me put these back! I can literally make pickles at home.” That finally got the pale man to stop. ”You can?” He nodded, begging the visitor to back down. Thankfully he stepped aside. The homeowner was so relieved that he didn’t notice an older lady had witnessed the entire exchange, her face pinched as she judged them. Once all the jars were back on the shelf he grabbed the pale man by the arms, the other man had already been heading off in another direction. ”Listen,” he insisted, tone serious. “I will do the shopping. Stop wandering off. I need you to behave.” The pale man looked down at him for a few moments before a slow smile stretched across his features.
”Okay. Since you asked so nicely.” The teasing way he uttered those words made his face flush, his hands recoiling from where he touched him as if he had been burned. God was he still drunk? What the hell was wrong with him? He turned around and elected to ignore the visitor, who seemed to be loyally following behind. The rest of the trip passed by uneventfully, the pale man at one point mentioning how this seemed familiar. ”It probably is,” he said as he checked over a carton of eggs, making sure none were broken. “I’m sure you made plenty of grocery trips in your lifetime.” The pale man was glancing over the shelves, that glazed look in his eyes told him he was close to a memory. ”Yes,” he finally answered. “Perhaps you are right.” He didn’t say anything more until they passed by the magazines. His face lit up as he tried to grab one of everything. ”No, those cost money. We can’t pay for all of those.” The visitor’s face fell for a moment before suddenly lighting back up. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a massive wad of cash. The homeowner’s face blanched, instinctually covering up the money with his hands. He couldn’t stop the barrage of questions spilling forth. ”What are you doing? You were walking around with that in your pocket? Are you trying to get mugged? Where the Hell did you get that!?” The pale man just watched him in amusement, waiting for him to stop talking. ”I won it. From the poker game.” He blinked a few times. Suddenly the actions of the three men made sense. ”No wonder they wanted to beat your ass, do you have any idea how much money that is?” He pointed at the magazines. ”Enough to get these?” It was enough to buy a hundred of each. Probably enough to pay for groceries for several months, if not a year. ”Yeah, but don’t pull out that whole thing. Just take one bill out.” He didn’t want to get jumped when they exited the store. The visitor happily loaded his magazines in the cart, handing a large bill to the homeowner. He didn’t like even holding an unbroken bill like this, it gave the allusion he had more than he did. Thankfully checking out was uneventful, the man running the till could care less about them. When they were handed the grocery bags the pale man held one to his face, looking over the logo on the brown paper. ”I recognize this.” The homeowner nodded and pushed past him. He was ready to go home, absolutely dreading having to do this again next week. ”Yeah you probably shopped here.” The visitor nodded and followed after him, the homeowner struggling to see over all of the bags. They managed to make it back to the bus stop, the homeowner regretting his decision to carry everything himself. Arms aching, he struggled to keep the groceries from tipping over. He knew he looked stupid, he just didn’t trust the pale man to be careful with their supplies. The rumble of an engine approaching told him that the bus was at least nearby. If only he could see it properly. When the air brakes went off and the passengers exiting were clear
from the doors he tried to step onto the bus but ran into a problem. He couldn’t see the steps. He couldn’t even see his own feet. Should he just go for it? A vision of himself face planting as broken glass and eggs scattered across the ground. That would be mortifying. The homeowner shuffled forward slowly, planning to feel for the first step when two hands wrapped around his waist and lifted him into the air. The resulting sound had been humiliating. The pale man carried him by his waist onto the bus and dropped him unceremoniously in the center aisle. His face was on fire. Several passengers were staring, the sight of an adult man being carried by another man was quite strange. He glared at the visitor. He didn’t even have the decency to look sorry. When the bus started moving and the attention on the two had faded he turned to the pale man. “You have got to stop manhandling me,” he hissed. The visitor blinked, brows furrowed in confusion. ”Manhandling?” The homeowner held his gaze, eyes fierce. ”Yes.” He emphasized the word. “No picking me up. Stop it.” The visitor huffed and muttered something about the homeowner being ungrateful but eventually agreed not to ‘manhandle’ him anymore. The bus ride back was awkward, several people asked if they could spare some food. The pale man ran them off, showing no remorse turning them away. He didn’t stop him, knowing that winter was quickly approaching and he was far less prepared for it than usual, his stocks having been drained those two months in the basement. It didn’t stop him from feeling like an asshole. He was so relieved to step back into the house, setting the grocery bags down in the kitchen. He managed to talk the pale man into helping him unload the bags which made the whole process a lot quicker. Before he could fold up the bags and store them in the cupboard he felt a grip on his shoulder. ”About those pickles.” Ah. He had been hoping to unwind a bit and listen to the radio. Seems that was not going to happen. *** It was one of the few times he could catch up on laundry, the pale man for once letting him walk around the yard without standing two feet away. He was still watching, he sat on the porch steps with one of his magazines, but the homeowner could tell his focus was on him. He had a lot more clothes to wash now since the clothing drive, having to incorporate the pale man into the chore. He reached for the basket and pulled out one of his blue sweaters. He owned five of the exact same sweater, used to be six before the pale man tried one on and ruined it. He liked how familiar the garment felt, he didn’t care to change things up. Folding the sweater over the clothing line so as to not stretch it out he reached for a pair of trousers. He paused when he heard growling right by his ear. A filthy dog was baring its yellowed teeth, hollowed eyes trained directly on him. Its bones stuck out painfully underneath its filthy fur. The animal was huge, the kind used to defend
livestock. He flinched backwards in fear, his sudden jerky movements aggravated the animal further. It advanced towards him snarling, saliva dripping from its black lips. Panic fueled his steps, trying to put as much distance between him and the animal. It lunged forward before letting out a yelp as it was thrown roughly onto its back, the pale man holding it in place by its throat. The visitor’s eyes were trained on the animal, face completely neutral. The animal cowered under him, turning its face to the side in submission. He didn’t look away when he spoke. ”What were you doing? Never act that way around a dog.” Anger flared up from the homeowner. ”What? It attacked me!” ”You provoked it.” He scowled, he couldn’t believe the visitor was criticizing how he reacted to almost getting mauled. ”Oh and suddenly you’re the dog expert?” ”Dogs and visitors are very similar. Understand one and you can understand the other.” The homeowner narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much of that was true, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in what he had to say. ”Okay. How should I have reacted?” ”Dogs follow a hierarchy. Show weakness and they will assert themselves over you. It attacked because you showed fear and ran. If you had stood your ground and matched its energy it would have thought twice.” He was pretty sure it would have still mauled him. “Riiight.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm. The pale man continued to ignore him in favor of the dog. ”See how it won’t meet my eyes? It knows I’m in control and accepts it. Placing a dog on its back is the most vulnerable position it can be in, it will instantly react to it. If I were to look away or turn my back to it then it would see that as a chance to attack. Don’t give them that opening. Dogs are easy to read. Their body language, mannerisms, and actions can all be explained and understood.” He released the animal but continued to stare it down. It stayed belly-up, nervously glancing at the visitor every few moments. When he stood up straight the dog slowly rolled back over, watching the pale man the entire time. Once on its feet it kept its head down and tail tucked, slowly trotting back into the tall grass. While impressive, the homeowner thought the animal’s behavior had been more of a reaction to him being a terrifying monster than anything. ”How are visitors similar to dogs?” The pale man finally looked away from where the dog had disappeared. ”We have a hierarchy too. Sometimes it’s challenged and the strong have to put the weak in their place.”
”Were you the top dog?” ”No,” he spat. “I have always at some point or another been someone else’s dog.” The sheer malice in his voice made him uneasy. He was so curious to know who could have been over the pale man, the visitor himself was by far the strongest he’d ever encountered during the cataclysm. The question was right there but the words were stuck in his throat. He mustered the courage to ask. ”Who did you take orders from?” It was almost as if all the warmth in the air was sucked out of it, the visitor’s eyes going hard and frigid. For a while the pale man remained silent, jaw working silently. ”She did not go by any name. Your kind called Her ‘Death’.” The homeowner remembered the Death cult, their members forcibly placed at one point in his home. They had unnerved him, never ceasing their eerie chanting and macabre beliefs. ”Did any of you challenge Her?” The pale man looked at him as if he was an idiot. “There was no questioning Her judgement. Her orders were followed with no hesitation.” The visitor breathed slowly through his nose. “We shouldn’t speak of Her as much as possible. Too dangerous.” The homeowner felt the hair on his neck prickle, unnerved by the way the pale man spoke of ‘Her’. The pale man shuddered and walked back towards the house, stopping to point a finger directly into the homeowner’s chest. ”Remember,” he said, voice low in warning. “Strike hard and without mercy. No hesitation. No weakness.” He nodded. He had a feeling he wasn’t talking about dogs anymore. *** “My human thinks I should try to recall more of my old memories. He believes they contain some level of importance.” The dog in front of him just watched silently, focused on his voice but not comprehending the words. He was crouched in the woods, careful to stay far enough away from the human’s encampment that they couldn’t see or hear him. Night had already fallen, the only light came from a few campfires scattered about. He didn’t need them to see, his vision was far sharper at night than it was during the day anyways. He rested his chin on his knees and continued to observe the dog in front of him. She watched him with a gentle wag of her tail, probably hoping for a meal. “I feel something when I look at you. But I can’t place it.” Her ears perked up, head tilting to the side. He sighed through his nose and tried to focus on the wisps of a memory that always haunted him when he looked at her. He could see brown fur, four legs running through the snow, a red ball in her mouth, a happy wiggling furry blur as he opened an old creaky metal door, then an overwhelming sense of dread and fear. He groaned and rubbed his temple. This memory was particularly painful to recall. ”I think I had a dog like you,” he murmured softly, offering a hand to the animal. She sniffed it and wagged her tail, allowing him to stroke her head. He had never tried to touch her before, he told himself it was to keep her wild. He couldn’t have her going soft in a world as
cruel as this one. But the hollow feeling in his chest refused to go away, brought back stronger than ever trying to resurface this memory. “She was a little bigger than you. Had an ear that refused to stand up straight. I can’t remember what happened to her.” He frowned, battling against his emotions. “Or her name.” She leaned into his hand when he scratched her neck, eyes closed in bliss. He smiled softly at the animal. “Maybe my human will let me bring you home? He doesn’t like dogs, but we can show him how polite you are.” The dog’s tail wagged every time he spoke. He pulled away, knowing he had to go deal with the visitor in the woods. She watched him go, head turned to the side. He looked away, a lump forming in his throat. Maybe some memories were better left alone. *** It was late morning, the homeowner enjoying the last dregs of his coffee when there was a knock at the door. He sat up, the noise waking the pale man up from his spot on the couch. He waved him off, he could handle this alone. He made his way down the hallway, passing the cat as he went. He was lying in a puddle on the carpet, fat rolls pooling on the floor around him. He smiled at the animal’s appearance. How nice it must be to not have a single worry in the world. He envied the cat. He placed his mug down next to the phone and peered through the peephole. A couple was standing on the porch, perhaps a few years older than himself. Their clothes were well worn, obvious signs of quick repairs evident on their bodies. The two looked haggard. ”Can I help you?” They perked up at his voice. ”Hello sir,” said the man. “We’re refugees, we lost our home to a forest fire. My wife and I are trying to make it back to our in-laws, they live quite a distance from here. We’ve been on the road for several weeks and were wondering if we could stay a night or two in your home?” The woman stepped closer, peering up at the peephole. “We would be so grateful sir. I could help with chores, anything you needed.” She folded her hands, pleading with him. “This journey’s been so hard on us, would you please consider helping us?” He hesitated. Was it bad of him to turn them away? Part of him didn’t want the hassle of dealing with a pair of strangers. He also didn’t have enough food for them. But it would be cruel to send them away. He opened his mouth to answer when a low voice in his ear made him freeze. ”Don’t let them in.” His blood ran cold. He tried to catch the pale man’s eyes, but he had his gaze trained on the door. They had to be visitors. The pale man wouldn’t have cared otherwise. ”I’m sorry,” he called out. “I can’t help you.” The two frowned. The woman opened her mouth but the husband stopped her. ”Is there any way we could change your mind? We could pay—“
”No.” He cut him off mid sentence. “You should leave.” The wife looked furious, muttering something under breath. The husband however thanked him, a pained smile on his face. When they were out of earshot he turned to the pale man. He looked relieved to see the couple leave, starting to make his way back to the office. He stopped him before he could get too far. “Wait. How could you tell?” The pale man paused and cocked his head. ”What?” He huffed in frustration. ”That they were visitors.” The pale man furrowed his brow. ”Oh them? No, they were human.” The homeowner blinked confused. ”Then why did you tell me to turn them away?” ”Because I didn’t want to deal with them.” The homeowner curled his fists in rage. ”That’s not your decision to make. This is my house.” The pale man looked down at him with a frown. ”I’m staying here too. I tolerate your human friends but strangers are where I draw the line.” ”That doesn’t matter,” he growled. “You don’t get a say in who comes and goes.” The visitor’s eyes flashed dangerously. ”And why is that?” ”Because this is not your home. You’re just a guest.” For a moment the pale man seemed hurt, but his face quickly darkened. ”Ah. I see.” The visitor turned away, leaving him in the hallway. The office door slammed shut, the sound startling the cat. He stood there in the hallway torn. He believed everything he said. Then why did he feel guilty for it? *** Apparently the visitor was actually pretty angry with him. He refused to come out of the office, even when the homeowner made lunch. He stayed holed up in his room, never leaving once. The homeowner sat at the kitchen table, tapping idly at the rim of his glass of water. He was questioning himself now, he probably could’ve handled that better. He was still trying to figure out the visitor’s reaction. His previous guests all accepted that this was his house, he made the rules. So why did the pale man think he was any different? Did he think he was entitled to more? He paused. Now that he thought about it, he had referred to the visitor as his roommate since the beginning, yet in his mind he had not differentiated him as anything other than a guest. Roommates did get a say in rules around the house. If one roommate did something that made the other uncomfortable despite being told then that made them an asshole. His stomach dropped. God he wished he could go back and rephrase his words.
As much as he regretted his actions, the last thing he wanted to do was go apologize. His stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it. This was awful. He hated the tense atmosphere in the house right now. He just wanted to go back to his routine. He wished he could talk to someone, but the only other person in the house was currently pissed at him. He jolted when there was a knock at the door. He waited to see if the visitor would leave the office. He didn’t. He sighed and pushed away from the table. Guess he had to deal with this alone. He wondered who could possibly be knocking this close to supper time. He prayed it wasn’t the couple again, he really didn’t want to turn them away a second time. When he peeked through the peephole he groaned. A familiar face was looking back at him, dopey grin plastered across his face. ”Yooo! Been a while my man! How’s it hangin?” He wiped a hand down his face. He could practically smell the weed from the other side of the door. ”What do you want?” If the stoner was offended by his coldness he didn’t show it, smile never faltering. ”Dude, I was like, wondering if I could crash here for the night? I was on my way to visit some homies but I totally got on the wrong bus man. But hey, it musta been destiny. We can like, totally reconnect bro. And hey, I brought the good stuff this time. Booyah!” He proudly lifted up a bag to the peephole. He didn’t want to know what was in it. He sighed and thumped his head against the door. Did he want to let his most aggravating guest in because he was upset he couldn’t talk to his roommate? The answer was yes unfortunately. He unlocked the door. ”Come in.” The stoner blinked and gave him a double thumbs up. ”Duuuuude yeah! Let’s get this party started!” He tried to give the homeowner a high-five but the man just stood there stonefaced. “No worries bro, I gotchu.” He picked up the homeowner’s hand and high-fived him manually. “I forget how to use my hands too bro.” He took a deep breath through his nose and let the stoner wander further into the house. He mostly ignored the other man’s babbling, instead he focused on getting started on cooking. He was almost done when the stoner peered over his shoulder. ”Bro that’s a lot of food. Don’t get me wrong, I’m like, totally hungry but I don’t think I can eat all that.” He frowned. ”It’s not all for you. I have a roommate.” The stoner brightened at that. ”Oh yeah? That’s awesome man! The more the merrier!” He hummed and continued stirring the pot. The stoner looked around. “Are they like, invisible? Cuz that’d be totally gnarly.” ”He’s in the other room. But he probably doesn’t want any company.” The stoner smiled, absolutely unbothered. ”Don’t worry dude, I can totally lay on the charm.” He made a wave gesture with his hands. “I have the perfect thing, we’ll be best bros by the end of the night, promise!” He highly doubted that. He plopped his portion of dinner in a bowl, handed some to the stoner and after
it became clear that the pale man was not going to make an appearance he put the rest in a sealed container and placed it in the fridge. Right next to the jar of homemade pickles he had started for him. He looked away, better not to think about it right now. The homeowner was an idiot. He had grossly underestimated how badly the stoner would wear on his nerves. ”I met this chick the other day bro and I’m telling you she was totally one of those lizard people.” He blinked slowly. ”Lizard people?” The stoner nodded, enthusiastically waving his arms as he talked. ”Yeah man! You remember, the ones that were popping outta the ground?” ”…Are you talking about the visitors?” The stoner grinned, shooting the homeowner a finger gun. ”Yeeeeeeah! Can’t believe you forgot about them man, they were like, super freaky.” How much more could he endure? He felt like he was losing brain cells from this conversation. The stoner had already moved onto a new topic. “Hey Sasha—“ ”Not my name—“ ”—Don’t you think they should invent socks, but like, for your hands?” He inhaled deeply. God he fucking missed the pale man, didn’t he? ”Gloves.” The homeowner hadn’t meant for the word to come out so roughly. Luckily the stoner was oblivious to his anger. ”Dude! You’re a genius! We should totally start a business together!” He couldn’t take it any longer. He stood suddenly, grabbing his food and walked out the door. ”Hey man,” the stoner called after him. “Cool if I use your oven?” ”Don’t care,” he called back. He didn’t want to spend any more time with the stoner at the moment, opting to eat in the living room for the night. He’d spent so little time here recently, it felt foreign to him. He ate his food slowly, contemplating what he could do to patch things over with the visitor. The current company paled in comparison to him. He never thought he’d say that about the pale man. To his surprise he heard the office door open. Involuntarily he sat up straighter, a part of him hoped he was coming to join him. He listened hard, the pale man was definitely heading for the kitchen. He took another bite of food and wondered how the man would react to the stoner. Hopefully he wouldn’t kill him on sight. He waited for any sounds of distress, but none came. He sulked a little at that, he had kind of hoped the visitor would seek him out after encountering the annoying man. He finished his food and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he just needed to swallow his pride and get this
apology over with. He closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to do this in front of the stoner. He stood and made his way to the kitchen. He needed to get this over with. A sweet smell made him pause. Was someone baking something? He remembered the stoner had asked if he could use the oven. Was he making a cake? Something wasn’t right though. There was an odd smell. He realized too late what that scent was. He pushed open the door frantically only to see the visitor with half a brownie hanging out his mouth. ”No!” He yanked the rest of the brownie away from him. “Don’t eat those!” His panic seemed to startle the visitor, worry etched across his face. ”Why?” He threw the remains of the brownie away. ”These aren’t normal brownies.” He took a calming breath. “It’s okay, I think I stopped you in time. Maybe you won’t be too affected.” The visitor didn’t look comforted, in fact he looked even more concerned. ”That was my third one.” They stared at each other, mirroring each other’s horror. “What’s going to happen to me?” The homeowner didn’t want to stick around and find out. He tried to leave but the pale man grabbed his shoulders. “Human! What’s going to happen?” He tried to give the visitor a comforting smile, he came out as a grimace. He glanced over at the stoner who gave him a cheery smile and a thumbs up. *** They had moved to the office. The homeowner, too worried what would happen if he left a high visitor unsupervised, was seated on the floor. The pale man was across from him while the stoner was to his right. He wasn’t quite sure why they were on the floor, but he went with it. In order to cope with the strangeness of the night he had a beer next to him, slowly taking a few sips every now and then. The pale man was out of it, trying to spoon his cold dinner into his mouth but he kept missing, earning a giggle from the visitor each time the food plopped back in the container. The homeowner watched in concern, he didn’t know what to do to fix this. ”Duuuude,” the stoner drawled. The pale man turned towards him comically slowly. ”Hmm?” “You ever wonder what we would taste like, man? Like, you know how everyone says things like ‘this tastes like chicken?’ Would we be any different? You know what I mean bro?” The pale man finally managed to spoon something into his mouth, chewing while deep in thought. ”S’not very good. Humans taste really reeeeally bad.” The homeowner stared at the visitor, not only horrified by his statement but desperately needing him to shut up. The stoner just blinked. ”I don’t know man, like, maybe with a little seasoning— I bet I’d be delicious!“ He was still hung up on the fact that the pale man had eaten a human before. They were moving on from
that very concerning statement way too quickly. The pale man pointed his spoon at the homeowner, food splattering onto the floor as he did. ”He can cook!” He held his hands out to stop the two of them before they could get the idea cemented into their muddled brains. ”We are NOT eating people.” Two disappointed ‘Awws’ echoed back at him. The stoner muttered something about him being a ‘party pooper’. He couldn’t help but shoot him an incredulous look. He could give the pale man a pass since he was an actual inhuman fucking creature but this guy? What the hell was wrong with him? The stoner suddenly sat up, both hands out as if he just had an epiphany. ”Dudes.” The homeowner reluctantly looked his way. The visitor on the other hand was completely absorbed. ”Yeah?” The stoner was super serious, darting his eyes between the two of them. ”I don’t mean to alarm anyone but,” he leaned forward, trying and failing to whisper his next words. “I think one of us here is a visitor.” The pale man blinked in shock. ”Who?” The homeowner burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he lost control of himself. The way he had asked was so genuine it made him crack, unable to hold it in. The pale man blinked in confusion before a dopey smile broke out across his face, giggling to himself as the homeowner continued to wheeze. The stoner was even laughing too, half- lidded gaze aimed at the ceiling. ”Why are we laughing?” He asked. The homeowner was finally starting to pull himself back together, a hand hiding the smile on his face. ”Don know,” the pale man slurred. He was happily watching the homeowner. He leaned forward, composing himself. He didn’t mind lying to the stoner, it was better he didn’t know anyway. ”The visitors are all gone. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.” The stoner blinked a few times then nodded. ”Oh yeah, man for sure for sure.” He leaned over, hand trying to cover his mouth. “I think it’s the homeowner.” ”You’re literally talking to me right now.” The stoner realized he leaned the wrong way and smiled. ”Oh! My bad bro.” He then leaned over to the pale man. “I think it’s the homeowner.” The gasp the visitor let out had him hiding his face again. He wasn’t going to survive this. Eventually the pale man started to complain about the room spinning and ended up laying his head in the homeowner’s lap. He allowed it for two reasons. He still felt bad about their earlier fight and he wanted to keep him away from the stoner. He was worried about what the two would get up to if he didn’t separate them. Fortunately the stoner was keeping himself
entertained. He was beatboxing to himself, if you could even call it that, paying the two of them no mind. He looked down at the visitor, smiling despite his best efforts. He was babbling to himself right now, surprisingly talkative when high. He took advantage of it. ”So why do you insist on eating with me when you can catch your own food?” The pale man smiled, a foggy look in his eye. ”Cuz you made it.” He snorted. ”That can’t be true, I’m not the best cook.” ”No, sometimes it’s terribllllle. Like when you burned the kasha.” He giggled at the offended expression the homeowner gave him. ”You said it was fine! Why did you eat it?” “I’ll eat anything you make, even if it’s burnt.” He gaped at the visitor. That made zero sense to him. ”Why?” “Cuz you made it for me.” He felt his ears redden at that. He looked away, instead choosing to scowl at a spot on the floor. What in the world did that mean? Was he messing with him? The visitor must have missed the attention, slowly getting more and more agitating. He tried to get the homeowner’s eyes back on him, his attempts ranging from random babbling to poor attempts to sit up, but the wriggling got annoying quickly. The homeowner continued to ignore him, still stewing over how weird the man’s comment had made him feel. Finally the visitor quit his squirming. He must have given up. The homeowner drew in a shaky breath. Good. “Mikhail.” He froze at his name. He glanced down, the visitor pouting from his spot on the floor. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.” He tried to reach towards him, but the homeowner pushed his hands back down to his sides. He sighed, his shoulders drooping forward. He was tired of this. Hadn’t he wanted to make up with the pale man earlier? He didn’t mean anything by his comment, he said odd shit all the time. The homeowner found himself absentmindedly running his fingers through the visitor’s hair. That got him to stop moving around. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He was just comforting a friend. This was totally something friends did. ”I don’t want to fight either.” He thought about leaving the conversation there, but the visitor deserved a proper apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider your feelings. You’re staying here so you should get a say about who can come in the house.” He was pretty sure that pale man was purring, a low rumble coming from somewhere in his chest. He didn’t know he could do that. ”S’Okay, I already forgave you.” Relief washed over him. It was surprising how at ease that made him feel. He enjoyed a few moments of semi-silence, the stoner still murmuring incessantly to himself. He didn’t get as much as he would’ve liked, the visitor ruining it.
”Mikhail.” He patted his head and took a sip of his beer. There was a giggle from his lap before he started again. “Mikhaiiiil.” He gave up and looked down at him. ”What?” The pale man grinned. ”Mmm,” he hummed. “I like your name. It’s pretty.” He glared down at him. ”Shut up. A man’s name can’t be pretty.” The visitor was unfazed, that twinkle in his eye was back. ”But yours is.” He gritted his teeth and looked away, his face was burning now. His heart rate had picked up once more, this time he couldn’t blame the alcohol. “Misha.” He jolted, not ready for the visitor to call him that. The visitor had said it clumsily, as if he was testing to see how it rolled off the tongue. He noticed the homeowner’s reaction. He smiled stupidly up at him. “Miiisha.” He clapped a hand over the visitor’s mouth to shut him up. ”Stop it,” he hissed. The pale man’s eyes crinkled in glee, the homeowner already knew what he was going to do. He withdrew when he felt the warm wetness on his hand, the visitor’s tongue still peaking out of his lips. “God what are you, twelve?” The pale man scrunched up his eyebrows. ”No, I’m thirty two.” The stoner sat up. ”Dude, no way! We’re totally the same age! Just take away two years.” The homeowner glared at the other man. ”Then you’re not the same age.” The stoner giggled. ”Dude he’s totally greening out right now.” He cocked his head to the side. ”Huh?” The visitor suddenly groaned, face pinched in pain. The homeowner held his head still, taking note of how clammy his skin had become. “Hey.” He patted the man’s cheek. “You okay?” There was no time for him to react before the visitor rolled over and vomited. *** “He poisoned me.” He pushed the bucket closer to the pale man. ”No, you just ate too many brownies.” “He tried to kill me.” He snorted, the defiant anger in the visitor’s hazy eyes was hilarious. He had positioned him on the couch, the comforter from his bedroom draped over him. He had panicked when the visitor had started shaking, but after a few hours of emptying the contents of his stomach he seemed to be doing better. The stoner had opted to spend the night in the bathroom, even though he insisted he didn’t have to stay there anymore. ”Nah bro it’s cool. This is like, my domain, feel me?” He didn’t but he nodded anyway. He had already sanitized the office, though he felt like the smell was still lingering. The pale man
was still sweating, eyes squeezed shut. ”The room is moving,” he groaned. He patted the puffy comforter, hoping it was somewhere close to his shoulder. ”It’s not. Promise.” His room was going to be freezing tonight without the blanket, but it would be mean to take it back from him. “Try to get some sleep. Hopefully this’ll be over by morning.” He tried to stand but the visitor snatched his wrist. ”Misha. Don’t go.” He shivered, still not used to the pale man using his name like that. He looked down at the visitor, bundled under his blankets. He looked so pathetic like this. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t a helpless man, but rather a seven foot tall death- dealing cryptid that lacked a basic understanding of human etiquette. ”There’s nothing I can do. You just have to wait this out. I’m going to bed.” He tried to pull out of his grip, but the visitor whined and tightened his grip. ”Stay. Just for a little while?” The homeowner glared at the ceiling, furious at himself for even considering it. This wasn’t a normal thing to ask your roommate. He released a sigh through his nose and motioned for the visitor to make some space on the couch. He only shifted his legs enough for the homeowner to take a seat, his body still blocking the back cushions. This meant he either had to endure no back support or lean into the visitor. He sat forward with his elbows propped against his knees. It was quiet for a time, the only sounds being the occasional pained groan from the visitor. His eyes were so heavy, struggling to keep them open. It was so late, the homeowner was no longer acclimated to staying awake during the night. Eventually he relented and leaned back, feeling the pale man’s chest rise and fall behind him. The visitor made a soft noise but otherwise didn’t move, too focused on his discomfort. The homeowner closed his eyes, hoping to find just a moment of respite. It was so nice he didn’t realize he was drifting off, his body going slack. *** The homeowner shifted his weight, the dress shoes cutting into him uncomfortably. He felt like his collar was suffocating him, part of the reason he hated wearing ties. The room was overcrowded and stifling, couples swaying all around him. He felt so out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb. An older couple dressed in the finest of attire nearly bowled him over, forcing the young man to stumble out of the way; their haughty laughter echoing off the walls. Why was he here again? He knew he had forgotten something, something important. A dissonant tune warbled through the air, driving the partygoers into an eerie waltz. He felt sick watching them, their movements exaggerated. Inhuman. He jolted when a hand gently grasped his shoulder. He spun around, eyes wild and froze. His wife was smiling back at him. Her gown was elegant, a deep blue perfectly matching his own suit. Her hair was partially pinned back, golden curls reflecting the light of the crystal chandeliers.
”Mishenka, darling,” she murmured the nickname softly, for his ears only. He ducked his head, cheeks burning. She had that effect on him even after all these years. She stepped in close, her perfume a small comfort of familiarity. “Won’t you dance with me?” Was this her idea? Why were they here? He tried to open his mouth but she took his hands, leading him to the center of the ballroom. He tripped over his feet as he followed her, feeling as if something was wrong. But her gaze was so warm, so fond, her bubbly laughter music to his ears. He felt his body respond, physically leaning into her touch. She pulled him closer until they were locked into a tender embrace, swaying gently to the music. ”I’ve missed you,” she sighed. He leaned his head against hers, eyes slipping shut. He had missed her too, more than she could possibly know. He knew he should tell her, but the words were caught in his throat. The music was picking up around them but he paid it no mind. Blocking out all other sounds, the homeowner instead focusing only on her. Her hand slid up his shoulder, nails lightly digging into the fabric of his suit. ”But you haven’t missed me.” He recoiled, the tone of her voice all wrong. He leaned back, trying to catch her eye. ”No, that’s not true,” he assured, tilting her chin up to face him. Her eyes snapped onto his, but those weren’t her eyes. Something was wrong, he tried to figure out why. She yanked him forward, leading him into a waltz. The pace she set was brutal, forcing him to focus on his feet in order to keep himself from tripping. This was unlike her? Shouldn’t he be leading? He tried to slow her down, planting his feet to stop their momentum. Her nails dug into his shoulder painfully. He winced, confused and disoriented. ”Why are you doing this? What’s going on?” She was smiling once more, stretching unnaturally across her face. Had her skin always looked this pallid? ”You’ve replaced me.” He gawked at her, mouth open in shock. ”No, I could never—“ ”You have.” Her grip tightened to the point of being unbearable. He cried out, falling forward to escape the pain. She swept him into the dance again, his feet dragging along on the floor. It was as if he were a broken puppet. To his horror he watched as her body shifted, growing and contorting as bones popped and ligaments shifted underneath grey skin. He fought to escape, his wild thrashing all in vain against her iron grip. ”You replaced me with a monster.” Her voice was almost unrecognizable, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. ”I don’t understand!” He tripped and was tumbling to the ground. He braced himself for the inevitable feeling of his skull cracking against the marble floor. Rough hands grabbed him, tilting him into a low dip. His eyes flew open, he regretted it immediately. The pale man was smiling down at him, vacant stare trained on his own. The visitor didn’t look like how he remembered, sunken eyes and baggy skin sloughing off his body. He towered
over him, far taller than he ever remembered. But it was the face that was wrong. He had never looked at the homeowner like that before. Like he was nothing. The homeowner tried to wriggle out of his grip and was slammed into the ground, all the air knocked out of him with a painful wheeze. The surroundings shifted until he recognized these walls. He was back in the house, moonlight reflecting off the visitor’s white teeth. The pale man lifted a long gnarled hand, inhuman laughter bubbling from his throat. He realized too late what was happening, only fighting when those cold fingers were wrapping around his neck. He clawed at his hands, kicking and flailing wildly. “No,” he choked. “You’re not him!” The pale man watched him struggle, clearly entertained. He gasped, unable to draw air into his lungs. ”Why?” He wheezed, the grip on his neck growing impossibly tighter. Bones were crunching, blood bubbling up from his mouth. As his vision was failing him, a face leaned closer. The pale man grinned. ”You let me in.” *** The homeowner jolted awake, gasping desperately for air. He looked around wildly, body still in fight mode. It took him a moment to recognize the room from this angle, he was laying on his side. He was relieved to see he was in the office, he must have fallen asleep at one point on the couch. Covering his face with his hands he drew in a shaky breath and tried to calm down. That was a horrible dream. One of his most disturbing yet. Seeing his wife like that had shaken him to his core, her words affecting him much more than he liked to admit. Is that how he honored her legacy? He was disgusting. He spent his days shoving down as many memories of her as he could, hiding from the pain they brought. He couldn’t bring himself to open the bedroom curtains. He was too weak to look at her side of the bed for too long. Yet in his dreams he sullied her image by turning her into a monster. She was kind. She was forgiving. She was too good for him. His mind was diseased, that was the only way he could explain thinking of her that way. He wanted to curl in on himself, burrow under the blankets and wallow in self-hatred. It was times like this where he wanted to reach for cigarettes or the bottle, craving a cycle of self destruction to lessen the pain. Lord knows he had tried to drink it away. Slowly he felt himself coming back to the present, growing more aware of his surroundings. He was really warm, warmer than he’d been in his bed. Shouldn’t the house be chilly? It was well into autumn, winter peeking just around the corner. The leaves had already fallen to the ground; he made a note that he needed to get those up. Honestly he didn’t know why he bothered, it’s not like he was trying to impress anyone. It was more to keep himself from going mad, idle hands brought dark thoughts.
Something shifted behind him, suddenly aware of the source of this warmth. The pale man was behind him. No, he was practically spooning him, long body curled around and pressed close to the homeowner. He choked when he realized there were hands holding his chest, having slipped under his sweater at some point. His first reaction was to panic, trying to wriggle away from his grip only to find his back now completely flush against the visitor. He froze when the pale man made a small sound, breathing stuttering as if he was waking up. But the visitor’s hands found the homeowner again and clutched him tightly, the man letting out a long sigh as his breathing deepened once more. He was freaking out, trying to think of a way out of this. This was beyond normal, now treading dangerous territory. Wrong. This was so wrong. He was disgusted that a part of him enjoyed the contact. This was a man holding him. He probably should have been more concerned about him not being human, but no apparently that wasn’t the issue. The visitor shifted again, that rumbling in his chest starting again. He could feel the vibrations in his back, as if he was being held by a giant cat. His body physically reacted, heat pulsing in his core. Stop, he shouldn’t like that. He couldn’t explain this away, this was not something “roommates” or even friends would do. He fought against the part of him that wanted to stay, enjoy the comfort while it lasted. But the words spoken in his dream haunted him, clawed into his chest and made a nest of guilt and shame within his heart. “You’ve replaced me.” He wrenched himself away, stumbling to his feet as he put distance between himself and the visitor. He stood there, flushed and shaking, awaiting the moment the pale man woke up. But he didn’t, he just curled into the empty spot the homeowner left behind, the purring slowly fading back into slow breathing. The visitor looked nothing like in his dream. His mind had exaggerated his inhuman traits to the extreme, the result had been terrifying. That had been another entity entirely, his visitor had never looked like that. He had a round face, expressive and devious. He could be terrifying, the homeowner had never met anyone that could go from harmless to viciously brutal in the span of a few minutes. Yet he was strangely charming? His antics were amusing, he was drawn to him unlike anyone he had met in years. Since Vera. He felt sick, he couldn’t look at him any longer. There was no denying it. The evidence was there, an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. He was attracted to the pale man. This could not happen. Absolutely not. He needed to get help. He hadn’t had thoughts about another man like this since he was a teenager, he thought his father had beaten it out of him after catching him outside of church with another boy. That had only been a kiss, stupid and impulsive. This was an erection. He fled the room, not bothering to pay attention to where he was going. The stoner saw him pass, but was too slow to react, blinking in surprise as the man disappeared out the front door. He found himself outside, the sound of dry leaves crunching under his feet. Running his hands through his hair he tried to ground himself. This had to have an explanation. Maybe it was a culmination of his loneliness? A reaction due to his body going too long without physical touch. He cursed, knowing that wasn’t completely true. If he had been that lonely he would have let the seductive woman in, she had been perfectly clear that
her intentions were sexual in nature. But her advances had turned his stomach, no desire in the slightest to feel her touch. The visitor’s touch disgusted him too, right? No, he couldn’t even lie to himself. The homeowner was disgusted with himself for enjoying it, the man’s contact had been appreciated. God and it was just an embrace, he didn’t want to think about how he would have reacted to more. The chaos in his head became too much to bear. For the first time in years he trudged up the hill towards the back of his house. The view he avoided from his bedroom. Vera’s grave. He could see the white headstone already, the morning sun glinting brightly off the polished surface. Not being a religious man, he had refused to consider a church. Vera herself had chosen this spot once it became clear her cancer could not be treated. It was tucked under her favorite tree. In life she enjoyed reading under its cover, he usually could see her while he worked in the yard. He had spent many hours resting by her side as she read, putting off other tasks that probably should have taken priority. He dropped to his knees, feeling the morning frost melt into his pants legs. The site was unkempt, yet another way he had failed her. He brushed the leaves away, a familiar ache in his chest as he cleared the space. ”Morning Verochka,” he rasped, throat constricting around the words. The wind picked up, the sound of leaves rustling through the air like music. He swallowed hard. He knew she couldn’t answer and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He needed her company right now. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good husband. I should visit you more often.” Tall grass swayed with the breeze, its golden shine yet another thing that reminded him of her. The homeowner picked at a thread on his sweater, misty eyes avoiding the headstone. He never cried. One of the first lessons from his father. He was a man that endured. He endured the pain, the beatings, all the shit that was thrown at him. Never once shedding a tear. Not even when she died. “I..” he paused, unsure what to say. “I’m so lost, Vee. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” He sat in silence, the warmth of the sun beaming down through the branches overhead. Warm reds and yellows of the remaining leaves that yet to fall were illuminated above him, more beautiful than stained glass in a way. He let out a long sigh. He placed a hand upon the cool stone. ”I do miss you. More than you’ll ever know.” He lost track of how long he spent out there, the hours drifted by without him noticing. His legs had gone numb, having lost feeling a long time ago. And yet, he stayed. *** The pale man huffed in agitation. His human was acting weird. He had disappeared for most of the morning, which had caused him to panic. His thoughts were not as sharp as usual, he blamed the drugs that had wreaked havoc on his system. He was about ready to tear the house apart to find him but was stopped by the stupid human that was hogging the bathroom. ”Chillax dude! Homeowner guy just went outside. He probably, like, needed to take a leak or somethin’.” He fought the primal urge to tear the man’s head off of his shoulders. Never mind
that there was a functional toilet located a few feet from the Stoner. Oddly enough the human was sitting by himself up on the hill. He thought about approaching him, but stopped when he noticed his body language. His head was down, shoulders curled in, looking the smallest he had ever seen him. That wasn’t right. His human was strong, unbreakable. He withstood every horror thrown his way, determined to survive in a world not worth fighting for. It was one of many things he liked about him. When She had first set Her sights on the hermit, he hadn’t expected much. Their first conversation had gone similarly to some of his past encounters with humans, the human refusing to let him in and announcing that he was armed. As amusing as this was he had fully expected for him to crack under the pressure once he had slain the soldiers. Usually such a violent display was enough, a team of heavily armed men unable to best one visitor. But instead of descending into hopelessness, he was met with defiance. With each encounter the human’s determination seemed to grow, blatantly challenging the visitor and talking back to him. He had loved it. The pale man had then understood why She wanted the human to join Her. As much as he wanted to blow the door off its hinges and take him away, he stayed strong. She had been clear in Her instructions. He must be alone. His fascination grew as the days passed. He never strayed far, always listening to the human as he lived his life in a routine, dispatching those in the home who did not belong. Sometimes the longing grew oh so painful. Listening wasn’t enough, he wanted inside so badly. He changed the rules one night without Her permission. “Why don’t we try something new? A gamble, of sorts.” The human hadn’t responded, he wasn’t going to let him decline the offer anyway. “If there are at least two of US inside your house…” He dug his nails into the wood of the door. “You’ll open the door for me. Because dogs reside in their bodies now.” To both his delight and disappointment the human bested him once again. It just made him want him more. The visitor had fantasized about the day he could claim the human, tear the door off its hinges and take him to Her. Then, they would finally be together. The visitor would allow the hermit something he had never offered to anyone before. Himself. They would be equals. Partners. He had to admit he had been devastated when She had changed her mind about the human, switching Her orders from capturing him to killing him, alone or not. He had already grown used to the idea of them being a pair once he had turned, working together to destroy what was left of humanity. He wasted time on Her final order, trying to give Her a chance to change Her mind. Her wrath once She had caught on to him had been overwhelming. His punishment had been severe. When he could finally find the strength to stand, he carried out Her orders. Reluctantly, he left to slay his favorite human. When he had approached the house he had been both pleased and gutted to find it empty, doors and windows all boarded over. If he couldn’t have the human, then he had wanted to be the one to kill him. No one else could have him, even in death. But there was no trace of him, no signs of where he could have
gone. Still, he selfishly hoped the human had survived. He was so glad he hadn’t known there was a basement. Now, even though some aspects were less than ideal, he was thrilled they were together again. His human would have made an unstoppable visitor, but perhaps it was better this way. The pale man waited for him to return, twice having to avoid the stoner and his nonsensical conversations. When the human did finally return he was not his usual self. He was subdued, offering little to no conversation. It irked him as he could not understand why he was behaving this way. ”Well dudes, guess this is where I skidaddle.” He looked over at the annoying man, who offered a beaming smile in return. “Can’t tell ya how gnarly it’s been, really should party with you guys more often!” He frowned. He definitely did not want this human to come back. The homeowner seemed to share a similar opinion but he politely wished the stoner safe travels. The man tried to hand the visitor a bag as he was leaving. “Bro, I know how much you dig these so I wanted you to have some.” The pale man recoiled, the smell of those horrible brownies flooding his senses. He had honestly thought he was going to die that night, it felt like he had been hyper aware of every nerve ending in his body. ”No thank you,” he growled. The stoner blinked a few times before a watery grin broke out across his face. ”Bro no way! You’re giving these to me? That’s a true homie right there.” He was horrified when the man hugged him, wrenching him away roughly and holding him at an arms distance. The stoner was clueless to his aggravation and happily moseyed on out of the house, slowly moving down the road without a care in the world. He had hoped that the human would return to normal once the strange man was out of the house, but he continued to act strangely. He had a faraway look in his eyes, the coffee in his hands had long gone cold. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, anxiety turning into an excess of energy. He decided to start his evening errands early before he started tearing up furniture. He left his sweater and coat by the door and took off. He hoped the human would be normal by the time he returned. He ran through the trees, pushing himself as hard as he could. It was getting harder and harder to recover any strength, the cold growing more severe day by day. He was afraid of what that meant, if he couldn’t move quick enough the body eater would over power him. It had grown larger as the weeks passed, its long slug-like body trailing twenty feet behind it. It had been trying to catch him as of late, ignoring the meager offerings he brought in favor of the visitor himself. It hadn’t caught him yet though, still nimble enough to stay out of its grip. But he still couldn’t kill it, mind locking up and going fuzzy if he got too close. It should have been easy, the creature’s skin was covered in oozing open sores, brought on by the long exposure to the cold. He was getting close to the edge of the human encampment, he could hear their obnoxious leader’s roaring laughter. He peered through the trees at them, taking note that the young man and Scarface were missing. Probably out robbing more defenseless humans. He almost moved on, not planning on hanging around the slovenly humans today. A smell wafted
towards him, giving him pause. The looters had somehow managed to secure a hog, currently spitroasting it over the fire. It looked like it had come from a farm, the animal likely stolen from its owner. They seemed quite proud of themselves, clapping each other on the backs and cheering loudly. That wasn’t what concerned him though. A smudge of brown was slinking out of the shadows. His favorite dog was slowly sneaking up to the hog. He took an involuntary step forward. The animal usually knew better than to steal directly from the men, instead opting for scraps and trash when it was safe to grab it. Her hunger was blinding her from the danger, choosing temporary comfort over safety. She snapped at the hog, tearing a huge dripping hunk of meat from it, the men noticing instantly. ”Goddammit!” The bearded man snarled. “I’m so fuckin tired of these dogs!” The black pistol was aimed at her before he could react. A single gunshot rang out across the camp. He didn’t even watch her fall, his vision blurring as he moved at a speed he didn’t think he was still capable of. The next few moments he really couldn’t remember. He could barely hear their screams, the pounding of his heartbeat too loud in his ears. Ripping, crunching, gurgling. His mind was completely blank, his only focus was on killing each and every one of them. One of the men tried to crawl away, a wet death rattle bubbling from his lips. He slammed the man’s head down with so much force, the body twitching once before going slack. There was a clicking to his left, eyes slowly turning on the one who started it all. He was scurrying backwards, black pistol shaking in his hands as he tried desperately to reload. The visitor frowned, standing up to his full height. His silhouette towered over the man below him. His fingers were so wet they were dripping freely onto the ground, the blood illuminated by the firelight. The man raised the gun up at him, he didn’t get the chance to fire. The weapon crunched in his grip, metal bending into something unrecognizable. ”What are you!?” The man screamed, shaking in fear. He ignored the human, instead looking at the remains of the pistol in his hands. This pitiful wad of metal and wood took something precious from him. He shouldn’t have left her here. Oh how he hated these humans, he hated them so much it hurt. He lifted his head when he realized the man was running away. The visitor tried to take a step forward but his leg suddenly gave out. He looked down at himself, noticing how his body was trembling all over. The muscles felt spent, arms too heavy to raise from his sides. ”Shit,” he cursed, unable to stand at the moment. Somehow he had managed to transform further than he’d ever before, but now his body was feeling the consequences. He turned his head, vision steadily becoming more and more cloudy. The dog was laying on her side, he could barely look at her. His body screamed in protest as he pulled himself to her. Reaching out he lay one hand on her bony shoulder. She was still warm. The fact brought a new wave of sorrow. He should be disgusted with himself, coming apart this badly over an animal he barely knew. But he couldn’t stop it, an overwhelming flood of images filled his mind. A beautiful happy mutt that loved him so deeply that he cared about her more than anything. He had raised her hadn’t he? Nothing more than a tiny pile of bones when they first met, skinny and underfed
living off scraps in an alley. His world revolved around her, his one source of happiness as a human. He walked with her, played with her, held her warmly to his chest at night. Never once faltering in her loyalty and affection. What happened to his dog? Where was she now? He needed to know. He rested his head against the stray’s shoulder, too exhausted to move any further. ”Where are you?” He whined, as if calling to her could bring her back. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t find the strength to care. *** The homeowner was distraught. The pale man never returned last night. At first he didn’t think anything. Sometimes his hunts lasted until dawn. But once the sun had risen in the sky and his half of the coffee continued to sit untouched in the pot he started to panic. He paced the hallway, an activity he had been doing for most of the day. Should he do something? When should he start to worry? The hours crawled by, the homeowner continuing to peer through the windows and peek out the peephole. Still no sign of the visitor. He glanced at the pile of clothing by the door, the unkempt stack left untouched since last night. Maybe it was something he did. He had been kind of out of it for the day. Could he have misunderstood his behavior and thought he wasn’t welcome anymore? No, he shook his head. The pale man hadn’t shown any signs of being upset with him. He had just seemed… worried. As the sun started to set he snapped, unable to bear it any longer. He forced himself to eat, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. If he was going into the woods then he needed his energy. He checked on the cat who was perfectly content stealing the pale man’s usual spot on the office couch. Satisfied, he started to prepare. It was going to be cold tonight, he donned the leather jacket he had crammed in the back of his closet. He slipped several rounds of buckshot and shotgun slugs into his pants pockets. He knew it was unlikely that he needed them, the visitor was still quite strong these days. If something was keeping him from coming home, then a gun probably wouldn’t help. Still, he slung the rifle over his shoulder. The front door clicked as he locked it, the moon the only light in the sky tonight. He made his way to the woods, weapon drawn and pointed towards the forest floor. He checked for any signs of a struggle. He was very familiar with this forest, recalling the many hunting trips his father forced him to go on in the winter. The homeowner moved slowly, listening hard for anything that could be out of place. The only sounds came from the wildlife, squirrels rustling in the leaf litter, the occasional deer bounding through the trees. He searched for hours, his fingers frozen stiff against the rifle. He should have worn gloves. His heart sank. Where could the pale man have possibly gone? Could FEMA have taken him? The thought made his heart drop, his fears increasing tenfold. He needed to turn back, he knew this. But he didn’t want to give up on him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t normal. The visitor was like him, he enjoyed routine. He could shove his perverse feelings aside, he just wanted his friend back. And that’s what he was right? A friend?
His head shifted painfully, a hand reaching for his temple instinctively. The homeowner rubbed at the pain, the aching stubbornly refusing to subside. Wait. It was really quiet right now. The entire time he had been in the forest he could at least hear the wildlife around him. But the clearing was calm, completely silent. He looked around, propping the rifle up higher on his shoulder. Goosebumps prickled across his arms, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Something was definitely watching him. He cursed to himself. He was deep in the woods now, it could be anything from a wolf to a bear. Suddenly his ears were buzzing, a scratching sensation tearing its way into his brain. His eyes widened. Oh shit. He forgot. He slammed his eyes shut just as something cold clamped down hard around his ankle. He cried out in pain, his ankle twisting in an abnormal way as it wrenched him off his feet, dragging him deeper into the woods. He nearly lost the gun, scrabbling to reposition it into his grip. He was completely blind, unable to open his eyes for fear of losing his sanity. He could feel the creature clawing at his thoughts, rabidly commanding him to look at it. Twigs snapped and cut at his face, he struggled to stop himself from being flipped onto his side. His body was taking a beating; each rock, stump, and log slammed into him ruthlessly. He was going to die at this rate. There was no pale man to save him this time. He aimed the rifle blindly, only a vague idea of where it’s body could be based on sound alone. He squeezed the first trigger, praying that he didn’t miss. The shot was deafening, something warm and wet sprayed across his face as a terrible squeal filled the air. It released him, he could hear it flopping and writhing nearby. This was his only chance. He fought against the aching in his body and wrenched himself onto his feet. Searing hot agony pulsed up his leg when he attempted to place his weight on it. Dammit! He couldn’t walk. The body eater was starting to move again, its thoughts growing more and more oppressive in his mind. His skull felt like it was going to pop under the pressure. He grit his teeth and pushed through the pain. He cracked the shotgun open and deftly reloaded the chamber with a buckshot. He didn’t need his eyes for that, he knew this gun like the back of his hand. The body eater was circling him now, he could hear it blundering through the greenery. It was keeping its distance. He readied the rifle. He only had two shots. One buckshot. One slug. He couldn’t afford to miss. He listened hard, staying as still as possible. His hands were shaking, he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, pain, or adrenaline. Sweat was dripping coldly down his forehead, his breathing ragged and pained. The beast moaned loudly, the sound like nothing he had ever heard before. It took its time, perhaps waiting for him to drop his guard. Or for his willpower to crumble. He winced as it sent another assault against his mind. It was getting harder to ignore its commands. A growl cut through the air behind him before it was suddenly launching itself forward, barely giving him enough time to react. He spun around and squeezed the first trigger. It’s blood splattered across his face once more, it’s screams ringing in his ears. With no hesitation he pulled the second trigger, the slug ripping the creature apart at close range. Something massive fell at his feet, warm liquid seeping into his shoes.
He stood still, listening for any signs of life. He sighed in relief when the beast stayed down, gulping down the cold air in ragged gasps. He didn’t know if he could open his eyes yet, could it still fry his brain? The buzzing had stopped, a dull ache was the only thing that remained. He stiffened. Something charged into the clearing behind him. Shit shit shit! He fumbled with the gun, unprepared and clumsy, trying desperately to reload. ”Misha?” He froze. He was so happy to hear that voice. *** It took a long time for him to come to his senses. The first thing he noticed was how incredibly sore he was. Dried blood cracked as he moved, the smell of death hitting his nose in full force. He felt weak, stomach gnawing in pain. He refused to eat the humans, they were truly too disgusting for him to consume. So he ate what remained of the pig, charred and overcooked. It reminded him of his meals during the cataclysm. Back then it was like being in a state of constant starvation. Other visitors had no qualms feasting on people. He just abhorred the taste. It was late in the day, he felt guilty not returning to his human. He couldn’t bring himself to face him right now. The pale man felt raw, overexposed in a way he had never remembered feeling before. He didn’t want to be seen like this. He finally managed to stand, stepping over the bodies of the slain men, many still clutching their ruined weapons. He had no idea how he managed to avoid getting shot, the details still fuzzy in his mind. All he was focused on was his need to kill them. He stopped in front of the little dog that had inadvertently triggered the massacre. Looking at her still hurt, his chest tightening painfully. He couldn’t bear to leave her here. She did not deserve to rot with these men. So he scooped her into his arms and stumbled into the woods. He wandered aimlessly for a while, stopping once he found a small clearing. The opening in the trees allowed warm sunlight to pool onto the forest floor, bathing the grass in a warm glow. He decided this should be her resting place. He spent the next hours digging out a hole for her, carefully arranging stones to cover the mound. When he was done he sat back on his haunches and checked over his work. Why did he do all this for a dog? The killing. The burial. He couldn’t care less about the people, they were scattered where he left them. He didn’t even consider burying them. In fact he’d trade their lives for hers in a moment. He looked down at his hands, black with caked blood and dirt. How they looked during the cataclysm. Did caring about the dog mean he was going soft? He would be no use to the human if he lost his edge. He clenched his hands, feeling the built up grime squish between his fingers. That was his new purpose. Protecting the homeowner. He had decided this back when he first saw him out in the yard, whether he let him in the house or not. He couldn’t believe his eyes back then, so sure that the human had perished after disappearing for two months. But there he was, alive and full of vigor. He needed to get back to him, he had been away for far too long already. He attempted to walk back, tripping over his feet and struggling to keep standing. The sun was already setting along the tree line. The visitor’s body felt heavy and slow, still struggling to move his legs correctly.
He stopped at a creek, using the fresh water to scrub away the worst of the filth. He didn’t even know where he was right now. It would take a miracle for him to find his way back in this state. He scooped clean water between his hands, gulping down the spring water greedily. He hadn’t had anything to drink since yesterday. He bent down to scrub at his face when a gun shot went off in the distance. He sat up, ears pricked towards the noise. He’d know that gunshot anywhere. He had listened to it countless times before. His heart stopped, dread setting in. That was his human. He bolted towards the sound, ignoring how every bone in his body complained against the movement. He tried to move faster, but no matter how hard he pushed he couldn’t seem to pick up any more speed. He paused and listened hard, his ragged breath fogging in the air around him. He waited for any sound, he needed to know where his human was. Another gunshot rang out, this time much closer. He took off once more, fear making his movements rough and uncoordinated. The third shot was so close it hurt his head, a whine tore from his throat before he could help it. He should have never left him. He was so stupid, why did he even bother with that settlement? He should have focused on the visitor only. Should have killed it by now. He burst into a clearing, eyes snapping to the familiar figure in front of him. The pale man couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His human had the body eater dead at his feet, bleeding freely from huge gaping wounds from its sickly body. And he did it blind, the human’s eyes were still squeezed shut, some of the visitor's blood spattered across his face. ”You killed it,” he couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. He staggered forward. “You are amazing—“ He closed the distance between them, an intense pride overwhelmed him. “No human has ever conquered a body eater.” His human did what he could not. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for him, cradling the human’s face tenderly in his hands. He flinched from the contact but didn’t pull away. The human was breathing hard, little cuts and bruises were littered across his face. “Where the hell were you?” His voice was rough and shaky. He didn’t sound angry, only relieved. He was flooded with shame. This was supposed to be his job. He stroked the human’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping the blood away from his handsome face. ”I am sorry,” he forced out, feeling every bit of a failure. “I was foolish. Got distracted by something I shouldn't have.” The human nodded and tried to take a step forward only to cry out nearly losing his balance. He caught him instantly, just now noticing the bloody mess of his leg. He felt sick. That was his fault. This would have never happened if he hadn’t run off to spy on those humans. He crouched down, hands hesitating to touch him after his recent remarks. “Human,” he warned. “I’m about to manhandle you.” The human sputtered. ”Don’t say it like that!” He scooped the human into his arms, careful to keep his pressure off of his bad leg. The human hissed and cursed to himself yet otherwise remained still. “Can I open my eyes now? Or will it still break my mind?” He hesitated. ”No. Seeing it will only cause you pain.” The body eater no longer had the power to scramble a human’s mind in death. But if his human saw it he would never forgive himself. He
couldn’t let him see what remained of the denim jacket across the visitor’s torso. *** He flinched when the pale man set him down, the action sending a new wave of pain through his leg. He was in the bathroom, already laying the first aid kit on the washing machine. The visitor looked lost, glancing between the human and the box. His presence was stressing him out, he had been fussing over him the entire way back from the woods. He knew he was just worried but it made him feel like he was more injured than he was. He had stripped off the jacket and sweater, peering into the mirror to catch any wounds he may have missed. The leather jacket had at least protected his torso and vital organs, just a lot of bruising and soreness. But the creature had really wrenched on one leg. He popped the fly of his pants, intending to remove them to see how bad it was when he felt breath right by his ear. He turned and glared at the visitor looking over his shoulder. ”Do you mind?” The pale man blinked. ”No. Proceed.” He grit his teeth, ears already reddening in embarrassment. ”I meant back up.” The visitor huffed but complied, giving him some much needed space. Slowly he peeled the tattered pants off his body, wincing as dried blood came off with it reopening the wound. He probably should have cut them off. Would have been the smart thing to do. He removed his socks, one ankle was definitely more swollen than the other. He hobbled over to the tub and sat on the edge. It didn’t look good. He stuck the leg out with a wince and tried to move his foot in all directions. He grunted from the pain but was able to do it. The visitor watched, his face pinched in worry. It was a new expression on him. ”What are you doing?” He bit his lip, screwing his eyes shut at a particularly painful movement. ”I’m trying to see if it’s broken.” Satisfied he set the leg back down. He gestured for the visitor to pass him the first aid kit, which he grabbed but didn’t hand to him. He scowled at him in frustration, about to yell at him when the visitor surprised him. He knelt in front of him, holding the box close to his chest. ”Can I assist? Please?” He swallowed hard, seeing the visitor kneeling between his legs when he was stripped down to his boxers was doing some weird things to his head. Now was not the time to pop a boner. ”You don’t know what you’re doing.” He had never seen the pale man look so miserable. ”You can show me what to do.” He shuttered as a cool hand traced gently over his bad leg, careful to avoid the wound. “Please.” He cursed himself, his willpower rapidly crumbling. He showed the visitor how to clean the wound. The pain was enough to distract him from any inappropriate thoughts or reactions, which he was grateful for. He’s pretty sure he’d die of
shame if he had. The pale man was taking this very seriously, listening intently to his instructions. He hissed when the peroxide made contact with the cuts, the ugly color of his skin was quite disturbing. With the old blood wiped away he could see the injury a lot better. ”Wow. You can see its entire hand print.” He pointed to the dark bruising, each individual finger visible on his flesh. The pale man glared at it, grip tightening slightly on his calf. He turned and looked up at the homeowner. ”What now?” The homeowner motioned for the bandages and gauze. “Those cuts need to be covered up with these bandages. Then you’ll need to wrap the area with this.” He held up the gauze. The visitor nodded and started his next task, the homeowner wincing every so often from his inexperienced hands. He had to redo the area a few times, allowing the homeowner to show him the best technique. In the end the pale man did a pretty good job. He would need to get a brace for it. He wondered if he still had the one his dad used eighteen years ago when he broke his foot. It would be the first time one of his father’s belongings actually made his life easier. The pale man was still looking over his leg, despite there being nothing more he could do. Eventually the visitor sighed and released him. The homeowner waited for him to stand back up so he could chug a beer or two and try to fall asleep. He didn’t have any pain medication so it was his only prayer for relief. Instead the visitor surprised him, leaning his head onto his thigh, remorse etched across his face. His pulse quickened, trying and failing to squash the fluttering in his stomach. It really didn’t help that his face was so close to his crotch. ”I’m sorry.” The homeowner’s eyes snapped to the visitor’s, inky black pools fixated back at him. “There was a gathering of humans that lived near the woods. They were criminals, breaking into homes and stealing whatever they could get their hands on. I was observing them, worried they might try to approach the house.” He nodded, worried about the direction this was heading. “There was a dog at the camp. Just a stray, but she reminded me of my dog I had as a human. She helped me remember.” His hand came up to rest on the human’s leg, he had a feeling it was more to comfort himself than the homeowner. ”They killed her last night. I lost control of myself.” Ah. Now he understood why he hadn’t come home. He rested his hand on top of the visitor’s own. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Apparently that was not the right thing to say, the visitor was surging forwards, wrapping his arms around his waist. “No. You don’t understand.” His face was way too close, inches in from his own. Funny how even sitting on the tub the visitor was tall enough to stare down at him on his knees. “You almost perished because I couldn’t compartmentalize the death of a dog. I failed you. I will not allow this to happen again.” He involuntarily threw a hand out against the visitor’s chest to stabilize himself, teetering dangerously over the rim of the tub. He felt like he wasn’t getting any oxygen to his brain. ”Listen, you don’t need to apologize to me. You didn’t do this to me, I chose to go out in those woods. People get hurt. That’s part of life. I’ll probably get hurt again at some point.” The visitor frowned at that. “And you’re allowed to be upset about a dog. That’s normal. If
something happened to the cat…” He swallowed thickly, memories of his previous cat coming to mind. “Well, let’s just say I don’t want to think about that.” The visitor was searching his face for something, his expression difficult to read. In the end he relented, eyes slipping shut as he breathed out slowly. His hands slowly left his sides, the sensation of his touch still lingering even after he pulled away. The visitor stood, offering the homeowner a hand as he did. The homeowner, still dazed from the sudden proximity, took it and let the man pull him to his feet, unsteady on his legs. He shuffled forward slowly, he could feel the pale man watching him. He had a problem. A seven foot tall problem. He needed to talk to someone about this for his own sanity. For now he needed some sleep. The visitor of course followed him as he limped to the kitchen, he probably wasn’t going to let him out of his sight after this. This was going to get annoying quick. He grabbed two beers and spun around, the pale man right in front of him. ”Hey.” He tapped his chest with a finger. “Stop worrying. I’m not fragile.” ”No.” The visitor continued with no hesitation. “You’re the strongest man I know.” The homeowner choked, not expecting that answer. Once he closed the bedroom door he dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t keep doing this. Was the pale man aware he was driving him crazy? His body was so reactive to his presence, his voice, and his touch. Hell he was so wound up right now he was half-hard. And he couldn’t relieve himself because the fucking bastard had super hearing. He could barely understand himself right now, so torn between what was right and what was wrong. How much of this guilt was his own, and how much of it was his upbringing? He made up his mind. He knew who he needed to talk to. Chapter End Notes Lotta fun writing this chapter, hope you guys enjoyed even though this one’s more serious than the last chapter. We’re getting into some fuuuun stuff now. Next chapter I’m really looking forward to. Someone on twitter asked when was their first kiss going to happen? It’s the next chapter :) Fun fact: A real guy in my hometown got really drunk and stole a live chicken because he “was hungry” so that was inspired by that. For the weed brownie scene had to call in an expert having never been high myself. Everyone can thank Shunuko for answering all weed related questions and helping me write an accurate scene. Also I loved the scrapped idea of the ballroom nightmare from the game so I was very excited to write that in. As always your comments are always appreciated, I read every single one even if I can’t always respond.Hope everyone has a lovely Thanksgiving and I can’t wait to see you next chapter <3
Chapter 6: Let’s Break These Walls Down Chapter Summary The homeowner seeks advice from a close friend about these new feelings and tries to be more honest with himself and his roommate. Chapter Notes EVERYONE GIVE SOUPSALAD A BIG THANK YOU! We posted this chapter early because my beautiful amazing spectacular beta reader wanted to do something nice for you guys for Christmas. Very important note: So the original chapter 6 was so ungodly enormous that I had to break it into two chapters. This is part one, part two which will be chapter 7 only has two more scenes left to write and will be done as well. So my beta and I think we’ll have 7 out in a few days. Part two (chapter 7) has the first kiss scene and smut later so that’s something to look forward to haha! Sorry this took so long to make, as stated on Twitter Christmas is peak season at my job and I’ve been working 60 hours a week and then I got sick so it’s been hard to manage my free time. Very very excited for 7’s release though, really think you guys will enjoy. For both chapter 6 and 7 I have been listening to Love Me Not (Ravyn Lenae), Physical (Dua Lipa), and Mystical Magical (Benson Boone) on repeat <3 “Why can’t I come in?” ”Because I said so.” The visitor huffed, trying and failing to hide his frustration. He had been trying to talk his way into the room since the homeowner had first woken up. At least the human allowed the door to stay open. The visitor watched his human with a frown. He was currently rustling through his closet, propped uncomfortably against the wall in order to avoid putting weight on his bad leg. Moving was difficult for him, his trek to the bathroom this morning had been slow and painful. What was most maddening was his insistence to do everything himself, refusing any and all help the pale man offered. It was driving him insane. Not only had the human struggled through his morning wash-up, he had also attempted to make breakfast. It had been a very poor attempt, he had to keep pausing to lean against the
counter, eyes squeezed shut as he drew in long shaky breaths through his nose. At least he had allowed the visitor to help with some of the food prep, he was able to crack a few eggs and measure ingredients out to set them aside for the human. There were smatterings of eggshell in the final result and the dish was overcooked to Hell and back but they both ate it, the human looking a little defeated after the first bite. The pale man couldn’t understand it. He was right there. Every wince, every groan, and every labored step he had offered the man a hand. He never took it. It agitated him more than he cared to admit. Did he blame him for what happened? No, the human had insisted last night that the injury hadn’t been his fault. He had searched his expression back then, looking for any trace of a lie. He hadn’t found any. So it had to be a matter of pride. He frowned at that. Pride got a lot of humans killed. When he involuntarily hissed from accidentally tweaking his injury the visitor was back to trying to talk his way in. ”I’ve been in the room before. Why is it a problem now?” The human tossed him a glare over his shoulder. Usually that look brought a smile to his face, anger looked so good on the human. Today he was too focused on his pain to react. ”That wasn’t my idea. Luka put you in here.” Oh. Oddly the comment brought a strange ache in the man’s chest. The pale man had believed all this time that the human had chosen to invite him into the room that night. The visitor’s frown deepened. ”I didn’t know that…” he trailed off, unable to hide his disappointment. The homeowner shook his head and mumbled something so unintelligible that even the visitor couldn’t pick it up. The pale man leaned his cheek against the doorframe, craning to see the homeowner from this angle. It was as far into the room as he was allowed. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being shut out again, that obsessive longing returning in full force. He dug his nails into the wooden door frame to ground himself. He had been patient before, he could be patient again. The human hobbled through the discarded boxes and miscellaneous clothing to venture deeper into the depths of the closet, unearthing shelves he could barely make out from here. There was more rustling before he heard the human make a triumphant noise. Victorious, the human yanked out a brace from the mountains of random junk piled in the back of the closet, wobbling back towards the bed with his trophy held high. The visitor watched as he lowered himself gingerly onto the edge of his bed as best he could. The brace was too big for him, the homeowner was forced to fill the gaps in the contraption by jamming socks into the spaces between. The pale man tilted his head, curious about the device. ”Will this help you walk?” The human was tightening the straps as far as they could go. ”Yes.” He paused. “Well, that’s the goal at least.” The human slowly got to his feet, still careful to keep all pressure off the leg. Here was the moment of truth: could the human walk
now? The human took a careful step forward and yelled out, falling onto the bed with a curse. Instantly the pale man reacted, fingers splintering the door frame as he held himself back from rushing to his side. That was a no. He couldn’t take it anymore. ”You don’t trust me.” It was spoken like a fact, not a question. The human looked surprised, glancing over at the door. The visitor searched his face, trying to glean anything he could from his expression. Really the only way he knew he had been surprised was the tiny movement of his eyebrows. His human was stoic and masked his expressions frequently, but he had little tells the pale man had noticed during his stay. Eyes darting away, ears flushing, clenched jaw. Really they were micro expressions, difficult enough to determine their meaning. But in a way he loved it, it was like a puzzle for him to solve. It made the human oh so interesting. ”It’s not that. I’m not doing this because of anything you did. No one’s allowed in here.” Hmm. The visitor found that intriguing. So this was more of a territory thing. This he could understand. He had claimed the surrounding area around the hermit’s property during the cataclysm, chasing away any visitor that was not protected by Her orders. It still made his skin crawl to let the approved visitors in, fighting the urge to tear them apart as they stepped onto the porch. These feelings weren’t protective in nature, he knew they had received orders in kind not to hurt the homeowner, only clear out the other humans staying there. But his jealousy and possessiveness did not like that they got to live inside the house with his human while he had to rot outside. In a sick way he had been thrilled every time the gun went off, even if the victim had been one of his own kind. One less ‘person’ in the house with his human. The visitor wasn’t allowed to stop anyone from approaching the door, human or not, but he did have permission to clear the property. Dispatching any human that lingered during nightfall had been Her plan. She had claimed any human could be a threat to Her grand machinations, kill any human in the yard on sight. Leave only the ones in the suits and Her favorite human, the maniac with the gun. That had been particularly difficult for him. The man had made his skin crawl, he hated every moment he was allowed to roam his territory. He was by far the biggest threat to his human, and his overconfidence had been disgusting. He would have killed him slowly, just to humble the imbecile as the light left his eyes. But She favored him, said he was doing Her work even if the fool didn’t realize it. He shifted his weight to his other leg. Maybe he could earn his way in. Show the human he could be trusted to occupy this space with him. He pushed aside his longing for the moment, he needed to take a cautious approach. So he settled himself on the floor, determined to still spend time with his human even if he couldn’t obtain the closeness he craved. The human watched him, a curious twitch of his brow. The pale man pulled out the card deck from his back pocket and shuffled the cards.
”Alright,” he spoke, hands focused on the task at hand. “I shall keep you company from here. Tell me if you need anything.” He fought back a grin when the human seemed to be pleased by this, the tension leaving his body at his words. Clearly the human did not detest his company, he just wished he was more receptive to his desire to help. “Fine. But don’t expect much conversation from me today, I’m exhausted.” ”Then rest Misha.” The homeowner twitched but otherwise stayed quiet. That was another thing he loved. The human reacted every time he said his name. It was adorable. For a while he kept himself entertained, only mildly interested in his card game. He was mostly watching the human, who had settled back onto his bed, his hands resting on his stomach. He had propped his leg up using a few extra pillows and was probably trying to take an early afternoon nap. But he could tell by the creases on his face the pain was making it difficult. The pale man laid another card down and continued to watch the human. He hadn’t been able to shave today, the patchy stubble visible along his jaw. Of course he had tried, but found standing that long in front of the sink not worth the trouble. The pale man wondered how he’d look with a beard. He crinkled his nose at the thought. For some reason that reminded him of the hunter in the woods, which brought a whole slew of negative feelings. He couldn’t fully recall the chain of events, but he could remember being afraid, more scared than he had ever been in his life and the man had refused to help him. Then horrible excruciating agony; waking up lying half naked in the dirt with no name and a new form, no longer human. The anger that bubbled up from the memory was all consuming. He decided he preferred the human clean shaven. Eventually the human did find some sort of respite from the pain, drifting off to a fitful sleep. A few hours passed, the visitor trying his best to fight the boredom. The house was mostly quiet save for the human’s breathing. It was odd, he was used to hearing little sounds of life in the home. The sound of the washing machine rumbling through its run cycle, the coffee pot dripping as it brewed, the human’s steps echoing through the halls. All of those sounds emphasized the homeowner’s presence. He looked forward to their interactions even if there was no conversation to be had. In fact the evening reading sessions before bed were some of his favorite moments with the human. These were mostly done in silence, the human curled up in his armchair with that awful cat and the pale man spread out across the couch. Even though he was seated away from him, he felt close to the human during those moments, like he was participating in something special to the other man. Now the silence was oppressive, the longer it continued the more uneasy the visitor became. There was something settling in his chest, brought forth by all his worries and thoughts. It was a lonely feeling, one that the visitor was unfamiliar with. He had been perfectly content to a life of solitude before the hermit. But now didn’t think he could ever go back to it. A distressed noise had his eyes snapping up from his game. He set the cards down, full attention drawn to the human in front of him. He had turned his face towards the visitor in his sleep, expression twitching every so often as he dreamt. He found himself leaning forward, a hand braced against the wooden floor as he watched. At first the human only appeared mildly
affected, breathing stuttering every so often but mostly normal. He could physically see the moment things changed. His body jolted, a small sound left his throat. The human looked to be distraught, twitching involuntarily as the dream continued. He fought against the urge to reach out to him. He couldn’t break his trust like that. But this was practically torture to watch. He had enjoyed pain and hopelessness when etched across another human’s face until now. The visitor found he did not care for it on his human. He felt useless, unable to do anything as the human fell victim to his nightmare. Conflicted, he wondered if he should call out to the man or leave him be. The human’s eyes snapped open before he could make that decision, his gaze terrified and unseeing at first. He rolled onto his back, breathing hard as he slowly seemed to regain an idea of where he was. With a groan, the human wiped at his face with his hands. The visitor sat back on his knees, realizing he had overstepped the door’s threshold in his worry. ”Are you alright?” The human didn’t respond a moment, his hands dropping to his sides. His expression seemed tired though not surprised. ”Yeah. This is normal.” The pale man looked at the human in confusion. What was normal? Nightmares? It would explain the permanent eye bags. ”Are you frequently haunted by nightmares?” The human tried to stretch but winced, remembering his injured leg. ”Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ with emphasis. He watched the human slowly fight to sit up, struggling to maneuver the leg around to the edge of the bed. ”It is to be expected after what you have gone through this year.” The human hummed, focused on trying to stand. ”No, the cataclysm may have worsened the problem but I’ve struggled with this since childhood.” The visitor hopped to his feet and allowed the human to slowly limp past. He couldn’t help but follow after him. ”Why?” The human didn’t look back when he replied, the words staunched in malice. ”Oh you know. Growing up with a monster will do that to you.” He blinked a few times. The question popped out without thinking. ”Who?” The human yanked open the bathroom door. ”My dad.” The pale man stood in confusion as the human disappeared behind the door. *** The human had settled back in his bed despite it being painfully obvious he was starving. The pale man was tucked into the door frame once more, carefully keeping an eye on the other man. Unfortunately the human had been unwilling to elaborate further about his father or the
apparently chronic nightmares. Which was disappointing, the visitor had been curious to know more. He had tried to distract himself with a magazine but the human’s hunger kept distracting him. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, he grew tired of the sounds. He threw his head back with a thump as it hit against the door frame, scowling at the stubborn human. ”Why do you insist on doing this to yourself? Why won’t you just allow me to take you to the kitchen?” The human had his eyes closed again, though he seemed a bit miffed at the visitor’s words. ”I’m just trying to sleep through this. You try moving around with a busted leg.” The human sighed, his tone settling to something less defensive. “I can’t stand in front of the stove right now, it's just too much.” The pale man tapped his fingers against the floor in thought. Well he could try it. After all, he had to have cooked before, right? He stood suddenly, the action putting the homeowner on guard. He hadn’t stepped more than two feet from the door when the human hollered after him, “Where are you going?” He sounded weary. ”To try my hand at cooking,” he answered. He could hear a groan followed by the words: ”Please don’t burn the house down.” He frowned. The pale man never lied and he was quite unfamiliar with the kitchen. So he was unable to make any promises. *** He squinted down at the papers in his hands. Apparently the packet the mailman had brought to the house the other day came with some simple recipe sheets. He eyed the cards carefully, surprisingly some of the dishes seemed familiar. They were listed as ‘frugal meals’ for when supplies were scarce. Though the familiarity of the titles of these meals suggested he had either eaten or prepared these before. He flipped through the cards before stopping on a dish called sour shchi. He tilted his head. The sour part was unfamiliar, but cabbage soup rang a bell. A wisp of a memory was just hovering at the edge of his mind. The visitor hesitated before reaching for it, remembering his promise to the human. He winced as the memory took shape, feeling himself leave the kitchen behind. Bitter cold rooms. Drafty windows. A bowl sat mostly empty in front of him, though he was grateful to have it. A woman was seated in front of him, a meal just as meager as his own in front of her. He fidgeted in his seat, waiting for her to finish her prayer so he could finally eat. There was animosity bubbling up from his chest when she praised this supposed ‘higher being’. What a nice fantasy to believe in. Too bad he couldn’t buy into the pretty lies. He snapped to attention when she called out to him. The memory was getting dim around the edges. Still he tried to hang onto it. The woman was speaking to him, though he struggled to make out the words. “—rechka, our future is in your hands now. You will save us from this squalor.” Fear and resentment constricted his chest, but he kept his mouth shut. Her face eluded him. When she
took his hand in her own he realized just how tiny he was in comparison. He had a sinking feeling this was a glimpse of his childhood. He gripped the recipe card with more force than he meant to, the paper crinkling in his hands. He really didn’t like these human memories. Each seemed tainted in different ways. Sorrow, bitterness, anger, isolation. Always feeling like an outcast. The visitor wondered if he had ever been ‘human’ at all. The pale man shook himself, attempting to dislodge the lingering hollowness that came with the memories. He had come in here for a reason. Mikhail needed him right now. Slapping the recipe card onto the counter he set his mind to the task at hand. Some of the ingredients he luckily had prepared. The human had a container with shredded chicken and potatoes already sitting in the fridge. But the card also called for chopped onion, carrot, and cabbage. He eyed the cutting board. He’d watched the human do this before. The visitor rummaged through the fridge, gathering all the required ingredients. At first the knife felt foreign in his hand, yet as he continued it was as if muscle memory started to kick in. With every careful movement the task became less strange to him, no longer having to think as he worked. Images of green tiles came to mind, a red lamp casting a warm glow over the cramped room. His kitchen had been tiny, barely enough room to turn around in. The dog used to sit at his feet, silently begging as he cooked. His chest hurt at the memory, still sore about the stray. It wasn’t until he got to the actual cooking itself that he had to focus once more. The visitor eyed the stovetop wearily, recalling that the knobs controlled the different burners. This was the most important part he noted to himself. He absolutely could not burn the kitchen down. The human would never forgive him. Pale fingers hovered over the knob, uncertain what number he was supposed to stop on. To err on the side of caution the visitor opted to turn it to the middle. He was probably over doing it, refusing to take his eyes off of the pot for even a second. As the minutes ticked by he couldn’t help but feel silly. This was highly inefficient. He could have already chased down something to eat in the forest by now. The visitor couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of plopping a freshly caught animal in front of the human. The horror on his face would’ve been worth it. Or he’d be so angry with him he’d kick him out of the house. He leaned on his hand, elbow propped on the countertop as the pot simmered. Humans and their strange habits. Absent-mindedly he added the meat and potatoes, the entire affair lasting entirely too long for his taste. But when the smell hit him suddenly it all made sense. He leaned closer, the alluring scent irresistible to the visitor. Blinking in surprise, he stared down at the shchi. He made that. A grin broke out across his face, giddy that he managed to pull this off. There were a few additional ingredients the recipe called for that he was unfamiliar with, pretty sure his childhood shchi consisted of mostly cabbage and very little else. Still he added the sauerkraut and sour cream, hoping that whatever flavor they added covered any mistakes he may have made along the way. Now cradling a steaming bowl in his hands, he peered down at his creation with blooming pride. It smelled good at least. But would it taste good? Guess there was only one way to
know. He popped a spoonful in his mouth and prayed that it was at least edible. He was delighted when it was beyond his expectations. Quickly he ladled another bowl full and almost ran out the kitchen before remembering to turn the burner off. He really would have burnt the kitchen down. The human turned towards him at the sound of his footsteps. He couldn’t help but beam at the human, bowl proudly offered as far through the door as he was allowed. He sat up slowly, eyeing the pale man cautiously. ”You actually made something?” The pale man snorted, slightly offended by the disbelief in the other’s tone. ”Don’t sound so surprised.” There was a lightness in his chest when the other man finally took the bowl from his hands. The human looked at the soup in wonderment, glancing back up at the visitor. ”This actually looks decent, how were you able to pull this off?” The visitor sat in the doorframe once more with his own bowl in hand, practically preening under the semi-praise. He’d take any ounce of attention the human offered to him. ”I was able to recall some memories and followed your recipe card.” The human blinked before shaking his head, a slight twitch of his mouth portraying his true feelings. He was impressed. The visitor watched intently when the human went to take a bite. It would be devastating if all this effort was for nothing. A spark in the other man’s eye told him all he needed to know. The pale man could breathe easy, he liked it. ”Not bad.” The visitor couldn’t help feeling pleased, head pleasantly floaty and warm as he sat with the human. *** The homeowner spent most of the first day sleeping. The visitor noted that he hadn’t been lying, he really did suffer from frequent nightmares. It bothered the pale man more than it probably should. Usually his sadistic side enjoyed all forms of pain in humans. But Mikhail was different. He was surprised when the urge to reach out and comfort the other man continued to only grow stronger with each nightmare. Alas, he was doomed to only watch, still banished outside of the room. Ooooh it ate at him, a sick yearning twisted in his guts every time he was reminded there were still things that the human willfully shut him out of. Today the homeowner was moving around a little bit easier, though walking was still considerably difficult. He at least didn’t feel like he had to stay holed up in the bedroom the entire day, enjoying his morning coffee and breakfast in their usual seats in the kitchen. He had missed the routine, content to enjoy the early hours with his human. Eventually he limped back into his bedroom, much to the visitor’s displeasure. When he asked if they could at least sit in the office in a not so subtle ploy to get close to the human again the man had simply said that the bed was more comfortable for his leg. He fought back a growl of frustration but said nothing.
The main problem was combating boredom. He had already read the majority of his magazines and had played solitaire so much he was worried he’d start dreaming of the cards. The human was clearly bored too, tired of just laying around and napping all day. Apparently the TV was just for decoration to the human, or at least that’s what it felt like. The human only turned it on once a day for a total of fifteen minutes before shutting the device off again. He had asked why he did this of course, and the answer hadn’t been very satisfying. ”I only watch the news. I don’t care for anything else.” How vague. Surely there was more to it? From his understanding the tiny box provided endless entertainment, his readings constantly brought up current shows or movies that were being televised. Though, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he never owned a TV himself. He tried to recall if there was a particular reason for this. The memories came easily, he had a feeling these were from not that long ago. Images of stacks of books, so many that some were spilling over the shelves and laying on the carpet floor. A wellworn armchair was tucked into the corner of the room, a striped throw folded and draped over the top of the chair. It was for the dog he noted. She used to lay in his lap while he read, despite her being a larger breed. His legs would go numb under her weight after a few hours. He hadn’t minded. That aching feeling was back again, brought on every time he remembered something new about her. A cynical voice chastised him for the behavior. ‘It’s just a dog’ it said. ‘Get over it.’ But the other part of him, the human in him he supposed, argued that she had been so much more. Reluctantly he pulled out the deck of cards, needing to occupy his mind from these thoughts. He hadn’t expected the human to pipe up. “Do you know how to play fool?” He locked eyes with the man, his voice always drew in his full attention. He couldn’t help leaning forward, he craved the other’s company more than he’d like to admit. ”It sounds familiar.” The game really did ring a bell, he had a feeling he had played it all throughout his life. “Remind me of the rules?” The homeowner adjusted himself so that he could face the pale man better, hand outstretched to take the card deck from him. He couldn’t fight the shiver as those warm fingers brushed against his own, cherishing the brief contact. ”I’m removing some of the cards from the deck,” he stated, laying the discarded cards somewhere on the comforter. “We each get six cards.” He dealt the cards before flipping a card over and laying the card deck on top. He paused suddenly, as if he just realized something. The visitor watched as the human glanced between the bed and the visitor, his gaze hardening as he spoke. “Since I’m using the bed as a playing table I guess you’ll have to come closer. If I let you in here, will you behave?” His nails dug into the wooden floors involuntarily, fighting to school his expression. ”I’ll do anything you ask.” The human closed his eyes releasing a huff through his nose, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. The tips of his ears were red again, the visitor noticed. The homeowner pointed on the floor in front of the bed.
”Sit there. Please don’t make me regret this.” Oh he wouldn’t, he wanted the human to trust him with everything. No more locked doors. No more hopeless longing. He crawled forward and stopped where he told him too, happily settling himself across from the human. “Okay so,” he tapped the exposed card. “The trump card for this round will be hearts. The goal is to get rid of all your cards. If you end up with any cards at the end that makes you the fool and you’ll have to start the next round.” The visitor slowly smiled. It was coming back to him now, he played this during his school years. ”I remember now.” The game kicked off from there. For the first half of the game it was pretty civil, attacking and defending as the card deck slowly grew smaller and smaller. It was when the deck was depleted entirely that things started heating up. ”Oh you dirty son of a bitch.” The visitor grinned, the human forced to take the stack of cards in the center. The attacks continued until the pale man triumphantly laid his final card in the center. The human glared at him, but he could see the playful spark in his eyes. A strange trill of excitement rushed through him, he couldn’t help smiling in return. “Fine,” he roughly shuffled the cards again. “You win. But you’re going down this time.” He lost track of the time as they played, each game more brutal than the last. The human managed to make him the fool twice in a row, his smug face was incredibly charming. When he lost he cursed like a sailor, the visitor laughing at each insult he threw at him. Then something fantastic happened. He smiled at him, punching the air out of his lungs. Green eyes laughing and brilliant, an expression he hadn’t seen since their night of drinking. It made him breathless, so caught up in the other man he couldn’t focus on anything else. Then the phone rang and the moment was ruined. The human sat upright before practically launching himself off the bed, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed down the hallway. The reaction startled the pale man, instinctively following after the human. He yanked the phone off the receiver with a curse, clearly tweaking his injury in the process. ”Hello?” He sounded so hopeful, like he was expecting a particular person to be on the other end. A slight noise stirred in the visitor’s throat, bitter jealousy flaring up as he watched the human. Who could be calling to pull this kind of reaction out of the human? His body language turned to frustration when the other person on the line spoke however, clicking the phone off without bothering to answer. He glared at the phone for a few moments before dropping in back on the receiver. “What was that about?” He struggled to keep the displeasure out of his tone, the visitor couldn’t help but still feel sour. The human glanced back at him, a brow arched. ”Huh? Oh it was a telemarketer.” The visitor flexed his fingers by his sides and narrowed his eyes. He hated when the human kept things from him. ”We both know that was not what I was asking. Why did you practically kill yourself to get to the phone?” For a moment it almost looked like they were going to fight, the human’s hackles clearly raised at the visitor’s words. But the human relented, dropping the defensive posture.
”I’m expecting a call any day now. Haven’t heard from Yesenin and Luka for a bit. And I can’t call them myself because they’re using a pay phone to talk to me.” His mood lifted a bit, as far as other humans went he didn’t hate those two. He preferred one over the other: the one who dressed oddly, even though he was kind of annoying. The tall man’s critical gaze made him bristle sometimes, but the other one was a hair too friendly for his taste. Still he’d tolerate his presence even if he did ask weird questions about his ‘feelings’. Their last conversation had been particularly odd, all questions had been centered around the homeowner. His head had hurt so bad from the hangover that he had humored him just to get him to leave him alone. Apparently whatever he had said had resulted in the man wishing him luck. Whatever the hell that meant. ”How about this,” the pale man offered. “If the phone rings, instead of injuring yourself, allow me to bring the phone to you?” The human was thinking it over. Eventually the man agreed. ”Fine.” *** The homeowner was growing antsy by day three, not used to feeling so helpless and utterly useless. He was hopeful that he’d be walking normally by the end of the week, though he had always struggled with patience. He glanced to his side, trying to be discreet. The pale man had taken up permanent residence on the floor beside his bed, cheek currently resting against the mattress as he reread one of his magazines. He could tell the man was bored, but there wasn’t much he could do about that at the moment. He was still struggling with a lingering guilt over letting the other into his room. He had never trusted anyone else in his bedroom other than Vera. It felt like he was betraying her, even though the visitor was simply spending time with him, nothing more than that. Still the implication remained, if he had only ever allowed his love to share this space with him, then what did that make the visitor? And it wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying his company, in fact he found the closer the better. God he was really losing it. See, this is why he desperately needed to talk to Luka. Back during the cataclysm the man had accidentally slipped up when he was telling the homeowner the story of his past. He had been telling the story of how he used to struggle with his anger, mentioning how he had lost his lover. ”One time… I lashed out at someone who only wanted to help me. Now he… she’s gone.” The fearful expression that had flickered across the man’s face was what had given him away. Back then he couldn’t care less, allowing the slip up to pass seemingly unnoticed. During those early days apathy had still consumed him, not caring who lived or died in the house. But now Luka was a friend, and one that could possibly give some insight on what he was going through. He didn’t view Luka any differently knowing his preferences, the homeowner himself didn’t care what other people got up to in their love lives. But his upbringing had some unfortunate lasting effects on him. Not to mention that he felt like he was somehow betraying his wife despite her being gone for almost five years now.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was times like this where he wished he had more books in his home, not counting the ones he inherited from his father. They could burn alongside him in Hell. What else was there to do? Sure he had the TV, but the homeowner only ever used it for the news. Even then he was quick to turn it off, the constant fear mongering and doomsday talk made the man anxious even before the cataclysm. He found that the content the reporters most thrived on were negative in nature. He had enough negativity in his own day to day life, why would he willingly shoulder more. Watching regular television still made him anxious, he wasn’t sure why. He perked up when the phone rang, glancing down at the pale man with pleading eyes. But the visitor didn’t need to be asked, he was already making his way to the foyer. He felt a rush of gratitude, eyes softening when the visitor offered the phone. ”Thank you.” He caught how the visitor lit up at his words. It was kind of cute. A voice in his head reminded him that the man he just called ‘cute’ had in fact killed and eaten people before. ”Hello?” His heart fell when a woman’s voice was on the other line. ”Good afternoon! We’re calling to let you know that you qaulify—“ He hung up on her mid sentence, anger swelling so strongly he flung the phone across the room. The visitor watched the display coolly, barely lifting a brow. The homeowner groaned into his hands before turning to the pale man, frustration mounting. ”I’m going crazy in here! There’s nothing to do!” The visitor responded instantly, crowding into the homeowner’s space. He fell back against the comforter, the pale man hovering over him. His mouth clicked shut in shock, staring up into those dark eyes. ”Then let’s get out of here. Come with me?” His brain short circuited, he found himself nodding before he could stop himself. He was lifted up off the bed and out the front door before he could change his mind. *** The homeowner didn’t recognize where they were. The pale man had dragged him off through the fields and past the ruined remains of the neighbor’s house. They were perched on top of a hill that overlooked a vast forest, the mountains framed in the distance. He had never ventured so far in this direction, the trees below unfamiliar yet beautiful. The pale man was semi-supporting him with one arm, still breathing heavily from the run. He walked forward a few steps before plopping down in the grass, motioning for the homeowner to join him. Curious, he slowly lowered himself next to the visitor, wincing at the slight pain in his leg. ”Where are we?” He asked. The pale man was relaxed, the evening sun casting the two in warm shades of scarlet and orange. ”This is where I went during daylight hours. I used to sleep right here on this hill.” He blinked in surprise. ”Wait, you mean during the cataclysm? How did you not burn up in the sun?”
”Some visitors can’t handle the direct sunlight, but to me it just felt really warm.” The image of the pale man curled up peacefully in the grass as the scorching sun beamed down overhead reminded him of a cat sunning itself. He wondered if he’d be offended by that. “But I brought you here for another reason. Look.” He pointed towards the mountains, the sun slowly descending over the peaks. “I used to wake up to this sunset every day. My view was different of course, the sun was so bright and fiery that it cast solar lights over the entire valley. But nevertheless I’m hoping you will still enjoy this slightly less impressive display.” This ‘less impressive display’ turned out to be one of the most magnificent sunsets he had ever seen. The homeowner watched as the sky melted into a sea of gold and crimson, the clouds and mountain peaks illuminated like a blazing inferno of warmth. ”I never would have known this was here,” he whispered, afraid that even a single sound would shatter the beauty of the moment. The pale man only hummed in response. He didn’t even notice that the visitor wasn’t watching the sunset, all attention focused on the man next to him. The two lingered long after the last light in the sky was extinguished, clusters of stars now twinkling above them. It was only when the homeowner started to shiver did the visitor decide to go back, the night’s now too cold for either of them to enjoy. Once he was tucked safely back into his own bed, the homeowner sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes. Luka better call soon. *** “Breaking news: FEMA has once again come under fire as new reports show that not all visitors have perished from the dropping temperatures.” The homeowner whipped his head to the screen, card game forgotten. The pale man was miffed by this. ”Why are you surprised? I’ve been here the entire time.” He shushed him, ignoring the quiet grumbling he received in response. ”As more and more visitor sightings were reported, the organization was forced to make a public statement. FEMA claims that their initial announcement had not been made with the intent to mislead the public, but as a result of the organization not being aware of the exceptions, which they have named: Super visitors.” ”Oh is that what they’re calling us now?” He sounded wholly disinterested. “Citizens are being urged to remain calm, these ‘super visitors’ do not pose an immediate threat to the public. FEMA assures that the occurrence of super visitors are extremely rare, most having been contained during the cataclysm.” “Liars. They can barely contain ‘lesser’ visitors.” The homeowner silently agreed. “At this time any unusual activity can be reported to the FEMA hotline at 000-451. Coming up next, what traits employers are looking for in new hires—“
He shut the TV off, not caring to hear any more from the reporter today. Still, the broadcast made him uneasy. How many visitors were still out there? The homeowner glanced at the ‘super visitor’ next to him, who looked like he just wanted to go back to his card game. He couldn’t help his curiosity. ”What’s the difference between a regular visitor and a super visitor?” The pale man looked up from his cards, eyes suddenly going cold, serious. ”By ‘regular’ visitors and ‘super’ visitors I’m assuming you are referring to the infected?” The homeowner hesitated, before nodding. The pale man laid his card hand onto the floor and leaned closer to the human. “Regular visitors are just humans that have picked up the infection. There is very little change. Memories may stay partially intact, physical form remains largely the same. But they follow Her commands too. Kill when ordered to and infect as many as possible. But super visitors are hand chosen.” The intensity of the pale man’s gaze was making his hair stand up, stomach dropping in fear for once. He hadn’t made him feel like this in a long time. The visitor continued despite his apprehension. ”You were chosen, you know.” His eyes widened, heart rate picking up. ”What? Why?” ”She saw something in you. That’s why She sent me to your door.” He swallowed thickly, thoughts of becoming something as monstrous as the pale man trickling into his thoughts. ”Then why the mind games? Why didn’t She have you bust the door down?” ”She requires her chosen to be broken first. Allow them to be consumed in despair before they are transformed. She decided the way to break you was an empty house. You outlasted Her in the end.” The reverence in his voice at his last statement made the homeowner brave enough to ask, despite being weary of the answer. ”And… what would have happened… If I had been alone?” The pale man shuddered, fingers gripping the bed sheets with so much force it was a wonder they didn’t rip. ”Then I would have taken you Her, and we would have been unstoppable.” The homeowner turned away sharply, shielding the bottom half of his face with his hand. What was wrong with this guy!? Better question, what was wrong with himself? He thought as blood rushed to his face. Not even Luka could help him with this. *** The human was finally moving around a lot easier. He had a noticeable limp, but he was back to tending to all of his odd human chores. It was almost comforting to hear the washing machine running again, dishes being washed in the sink, frustrated cursing as the human griped about something he probably did.
He may or may not have been responsible for filling the bathroom sink entirely with shaving cream. He had been momentarily enthralled with the canister when he had stumbled across it. He couldn’t be held responsible for that, he had been blinded by the wonders of the little aerosol can. A moment of weakness. Now the third and fourth can… He didn’t have a good excuse. The visitor was already fantasizing about finally returning to their normal routine, an evening spent reading with his human seemed so appealing about now. His couch was calling to him, despite being a rather uncomfortable piece of furniture. Then the phone rang. The visitor had just turned the corner before realizing the human had already beaten him to it. He noted the shaving cream still smattered across his arms, some of the foam somehow made it onto the sleeves of his sweater. Ah. So he had found it. ”Hello?” The human didn’t sound hopeful, too many false alarms had dampened his spirits. Regardless, he saw the change in body language immediately. “Yesenin? How are you?” The pale man almost walked away, happy that the human had finally received the call he was so anxious about. The man’s strange behavior however stopped him in his tracks. He was drumming his fingers impatiently against the hallway cabinet, shoulders drawn tightly together. He didn’t even seem to be listening to the voice on the other end, offering only noncommittal noises and grunts as a response. The visitor could hear the other man from here. ”Sorry, I’m talking your ear off aren’t I? I’ll let you get back to it, I’ll give you another call soon—“ ”IneedtospeakwithLuka!” the homeowner blurted all at once. The pale man narrowed his eyes. The human was hiding something from him. The question was what? The human on the other line seemed to be surprised by his actions as well. ”Oh… I’m really sorry Misha, I’ll call him over right now. I had just assumed that you didn’t want to…” he paused for a moment. “Apologies good man, guess I should’ve been more considerate. Promise I’ll share our phone time with Luka from now on, okay?” The visitor heard the tall man call for the cheerful guy, the second human sounding a little confused yet happy to be given the phone. ”Hey Misha! What’s up?” The homeowner mumbled his answer quietly, as if he was trying not to be heard. The visitor fortunately could still understand him. ”I need to talk with you. It’s important… but private. Could I come by the apartment and meet with you?” Luka’s tone changed from lighthearted to concerned in an instant. “Absolutely, anytime. Are you okay though? Something happen?” The human let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine, I just need to talk.” The pale man overheard the two discuss directions and times, an aching bitterness festered at the feeling of being shut out again. When the human clicked the phone back on the receiver he half hoped for an explanation. Instead he was reaching for his jacket.
”I’m going out,” he called without sparing a glance back. The suddenness of his departure rattled the visitor, trying to figure out what could have caused the change. ”Where are you going?” The human was zipping up his jacket, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet. ”The city. I’ll be back in a bit.” He limped to the door, still wearing the oversized brace. ”Wait, your leg. Let me come too I can help—“ ”No.” He turned, eyes fierce. He pointed sharply at the visitor, leaving no room for discussion. “You stay here. I won’t be gone for too long.” The pale man couldn’t do anything other than watch his human shut the door behind him, wringing his hands nervously. What was going on? Everything had been going so well. He dug his nails into the fabric of his sleeve, a growl bubbling up from his throat. Had he done something to elicit this response from the human? Perhaps it had been a mistake to discuss what She had planned for him. He should have foreseen this as a consequence. He paced back and forth, dark eyes trained on the door. He could always follow him. He had stalked him once before, he could do it again. He paused. But what about the potential fall out if he was caught? How angry would the human be at him? He had a gnawing feeling it would be severe. The visitor fought the urge to destroy something, bony hands twitching at his sides. He wanted to tear the closest thing to him apart, piece by piece. Instead he marched into the office, fighting his destructive urges. Returning home to a wreck would not endear the visitor to the human. He almost laid down on the couch, planning to wallow in self pity. The drawers of the office caught his eye. The human had prevented him from searching the house in detail when he had first arrived. There were many places in the home he hadn’t explored yet. He set his jaw, releasing a long breath from his nose. He was going to find out what the human was keeping from him one way or another. *** The journey to Luka’s apartment took longer than he was hoping. The bus stop was further than he would have liked, forced to slowly limp his way to his destination. The journey was familiar to him, the same streets he had once drunkenly stumbled down with his roommate in tow. He stopped in front of the church, its lofty steeple casting him in shadow. He never liked this building, it was designed like it was built to intimidate people, not inspire them. He wondered if he had told the visitor that, which inadvertently encouraged the pale man to climb to the very top in an act of defiance. He couldn’t help a small smile. Before the visitor he had always averted his eyes at the building. Now the image of the man hanging upside down from the steeple’s cross was burned forever into his mind. He passed more landmarks as he continued his trek across town. That was where the pale man was hit by a car. There was the bar they were both banned from. The homeowner peered into the windows as he passed, curious if it looked any different after the fight. The bar was lit warmly, a waitress busy polishing the tables hurriedly hopping between the patrons as she went. There seemed to be no lasting damage, the only difference perhaps was a few less
tables and chairs. The homeowner realized he was smiling again and jerked his head away from the window. With a grimace he reminded himself he was supposed to be a man on a mission. Shove the feelings down for now, he’d hopefully get some answers soon. The homeowner was relieved when the apartment complex came into view, a somber building of solid concrete. A chain link fence had been erected at some point, faded warning signs and FEMA logos peeling from the poles. The fence was worthless now, someone had cut through the wires to create an entrance. People could be seen milling about outside the building. It was easy to pick out Luka from the crowd, his neon tights were quite unique. He was grinning at the homeowner, arms outstretched. ”Hey Misha! Great to see you!” He pulled the homeowner into a firm hug, clapping him once across the back. His smile fell when he noticed his leg. “Woah, what happened? You okay?” ”Yeah, I uh… just twisted my ankle in the yard.” He stood there awkwardly, hoping that Luka would believe the lie. The homeowner was grateful when the other dropped the subject, instead ushering him inside the building. ”Let’s get you inside, I’ll make some tea.” Thankfully the elevator was still functioning, though the smell was less than desirable. Halfway down the hall of the fifth floor Luka stopped in front of a heavy metal door, chipped green paint flaking off its surface. With a smile he held the door for him, the homeowner stepping into the tiny lived-in apartment. It was furnished in a way that screamed ‘little old lady’, doilies draped across the chairs and faded floral wallpaper throughout the room. There were pictures on the walls, no one he knew. Luka and Yesenin had found this place abandoned after the cataclysm, technically the two of them were squatters. The original occupants were likely deceased. “Take a seat anywhere you’d like. I’ll put the kettle on.” The homeowner lowered himself into a striped armchair as Luka bustled around the kitchen. He glanced at the room once more. It wasn’t bad, the apartment was actually quite cozy, though painfully small. If the ceilings seemed low to him he hated to think how Yesenin lived in the space. The walls were thin unfortunately, the sounds of the neighbors radio bleeding into the room. He looked up when Luka offered him a chipped mug, accepting it with thanks. When the cheerful man lowered himself into the chair across from him it finally dawned on the homeowner the situation he was in. His mouth went dry. In theory this seemed like a good idea. One critical miscalculation though. He was going to have to actually open up and talk to someone about his… feelings. How mortifying. Luka was looking at him expectantly. Yeah, he should probably start talking now, he was the one that wanted this after all. He cleared his throat, struggling to meet the other man’s gaze. ”Where’s Yesenin?” Shit, he was avoiding the conversation like a coward. Luka blinked, lowering his mug from his lips. ”Oh he’s out in town running some errands. Did you need him here as well?” ”NO,” he blurted out, flushing profusely. He would die on the spot if Yesenin sat in on this conversation. He couldn’t bear the fallout if the tall man’s opinion of him changed from this.
Luka looked lost, but offered a comforting smile. ”I don’t know what this is about, but I’m here for you. I’ll listen, whenever you’re ready.” This shouldn’t be so hard, he had already come to terms with it in his mind. Guess it was another thing to put it into words. So he tried another approach. ”Luka. Do… Do you remember what you said back during the cataclysm?” The cheerful man’s brows creased in confusion. ”Maybe? I did a lot of talking, could you be more specific?” He rubbed his thumbs against the warm porcelain in his hands. He felt so clammy, sweat sticking to the nape of his neck uncomfortably. ”Er… When you were sharing the story of how you used to struggle with your anger. And you said…” He drew in a steadying breath. “You said that you lashed out at someone important to you. You said ‘he’ at first. Were you seeing another man?” Luka’s demeanor changed in an instant. He stiffened, eyes darkening into something guarded. ”Ah.” His voice lacked its usual warmth. “You caught that.” Luka had never looked at him like that. Like he was a threat. It confused him, shrinking back in the chair out of reflex. Then it dawned on him. This was something people were attacked over, or worse. Luka didn’t know his intentions for asking. The homeowner panicked, the words bubbling up before he could think it through. ”How did you know?” Luka paused, clearly confused. ”Know what? ”That you—“ he gestured vaguely at the other man, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “Liked other—“ his voice stuck in his throat again, gaze dropping back to the floor in shame. “You know.” That was probably the most nonsensical string of words he had ever spoken. He hid his burning face. This was a mistake, he should never have come here. God he was so fucking stupid. So so stupid— “Wait,” Luka was sitting forward now, a look of disbelief on his face. “Are you asking how I knew that I liked men?” He nodded, not bothering to lift his head from his hands. “Oh Misha.” The warmth in his tone enticed him enough to glance at him through his fingers. His eyes had softened, an understanding in his gaze. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Tell me everything.” The man was unbearably patient with the homeowner, allowing the younger man time to collect himself. Finally he lifted his face and rolled his shoulders back. He was determined to face this, he needed to endure the awkwardness. ”I feel strange around my roommate.” Luka nodded, encouraging him to continue. ”How so?” The homeowner groaned, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him. ”It’s hard for me to describe.” The cheerful man set his tea to the side and crossed his legs.
”Okay, I’ll ask you some questions, alright? You do not have to answer if you don’t want to.” He nodded, grateful he didn’t have to directly describe his reactions right now. “You enjoy spending time with him right?” He nodded. “If he’s in another room in the house, do you seek him out?” ”Sometimes.” He didn’t really understand why that mattered. ”If he’s not around do you miss him?” He thought about the day they fought and he had to go an entire afternoon without his company. That had been awful. ”Yes,” his voice little more than a whisper. ”How often do your thoughts circle back to him? Do you ever see something and it makes you think of him?” ”Frequently and I guess so…” He shouldn’t lie to himself, everyday items constantly brought forth thoughts of the pale man. A jar of pickles, enjoying a cup of coffee, now the church. All things that were ordinary in nature but were now associated with the visitor. ”And how do you feel when he walks into a room?” Excited. Content. Safe. He couldn’t isolate a single feeling, it was more like a flurry of emotions roiled through him when in the pale man’s presence. ”It’s hard to describe.” ”Okay, I understand. How about this, are you attracted to him?” The homeowner stiffened, the look on his face must have told Luka everything he needed to know. “So we’ve determined you at least like him. Now what about this scares you? What’s holding you back?” ”My father would be rolling in his grave,” the words rushed out without much thought. ”Do you care what your father would think of you?” ”No.” ”Then let’s mark that reason off. Give me another.” ”This isn’t… something most people are okay with. It could draw the wrong kind of attention, put us in danger.” ”Yes, sadly that is true.” The look in the older man’s eyes told the homeowner that Luka had experienced this firsthand. “But you live a pretty reclusive lifestyle out in the country, I don’t see you as the type to go out and socialize with the public. If you two started seeing each other, did you plan to tell other people?” The homeowner blinked. That was true, he wasn’t social and the visitor wasn’t either. ”No, not really. But what if…” What if he lost his closest friend? What would Yesenin think? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his friendship. The tall man had been the first to break through his stony defenses, back when he was at his lowest.
*** The bar guy had just stepped out of the living room, probably headed for the bathroom when that strange man in the parka approached him. He watched him wearily, with each passing day he was growing more and more confident that the shivering man was actually a visitor. It frustrated him that the guest felt it necessary to change up routine, he had actually come in here to put a bullet in the cat lady, the most blatant visitor he had ever seen. Well, other than the pale creep outside the house. “What do you want?” He barked, rifle already positioned in his shoulder. One of the twins was watching them, cigarette in hand. It bothered him that she smoked inside, his controlling nature kept fretting about hot ashes burning the furniture. But he couldn’t exactly ask her to do this outside. The other twin was disinterested in them, her broken lifeless gaze fixed on the far wall. The coat guy was looking at him in desperation, strange eyes darting in every direction. It dawned on him that the coat guy had mentioned yesterday that he had a secret and would be willing to share it soon. The homeowner narrowed his eyes. ”So. What are you hiding?” The man was trembling, somber eyes fixed on his own. “Yes. I wanted to sh-share a secret. I think I’m ready. It usually ends b-badly, but maybe n- not this time.” A creeping dread washed over him, everything in his body screamed that this was bad. ”What the hell are you talking about?” ”Under these c-clothes is, I believe, the reason for my c-c-cold and loneliness both. Look.” The man hooked his fingers into the hem of his shirt and yanked the garment up before he could react. The world suddenly shifted, the room erupting into screams as he stared in horror at the fleshy void that was trying to pull him in. His head was throbbing, something warm was seeping into his shoe. He nearly fell forward, only barely catching himself at the last minute. A growing fear suggested that if he had fallen, he would be dead right now. Then everything stopped, the shirt back in place over the man’s torso. It took a moment for his vision to correct, breath coming out in ragged gasps. When he managed to look up he choked. Everyone in the room was dead. The cat lady’s remains lay by the wall, the two human sisters now bleeding freely onto the wooden floors, bodies barely recognizable. He couldn’t breathe. This was his fault. He let a visitor in. He killed them. A whimper in front of him snapped him out of his thoughts, rifle quickly pointed between the coat guy’s eyes. He looked distraught. ”No… N-Not again.” ”What did you do!?” He couldn’t control his voice, anger and despair clawing at his throat. ”I didn’t m-mean to. I thought it would be d-d-different here. It n-never is. I didn’t w-want this. I swear I d-didn’t.” He pulled the trigger before the man could finish, the visitor joining the others on the floor. The homeowner was swaying on his feet, vision darkening. He fucked
up. He fucked up so bad. Strong hands were grabbing at him, a panicked voice in his ear. He couldn’t understand what they were saying. ”—need you to breathe kid. What the hell happened in there?” More voices were joining in now. ”Is he okay? What’s going on?” It was the cheerful man, the one that got on his nerves. ”I don’t know,” the bar guy responded. “Hey,” he slapped the homeowner’s face. Not enough to hurt, just enough to snap him out of his spiral. “Come on good man, breathe.” ”He killed them,” he wheezed. “The guy in the jacket… He killed them all.” *** That had been one of the worst nights of his entire life. The only good thing that had come out of it was his friendship with Yesenin. The man had been his support, the younger man had been practically useless afterwards, descending into the worst breakdown he had experienced during the cataclysm. But Yesenin had brought him back from it. From then on he had been the homeowner’s most trusted guest, despite the fact that he had once been determined to never learn any of their names or grow attached in any way. If he knew about these feelings would he be disgusted with him? Did he know about Luka? ”What if my friends didn’t approve?” He really didn’t have friends other than Luka and Yesenin, he prayed Luka could read between the lines. ”Then they wouldn’t be worth keeping.” He tapped his fingers on his pants leg, gathering the courage to directly ask. ”Does Yesenin know? About your…” He trailed off, voice dying in his throat. ”You’re worried that he’d see you differently, aren’t you?” Luka was smarter than he gave him credit for. The homeowner nodded, the tea in his hands had long grown cold. ”Yes, Yesenin knows I’m interested in men. He doesn’t care and has never treated me any differently because of it. He’s a really good guy, he wouldn’t think ill of you.” It was surprising how much relief he felt at those words, the tension leaving his shoulders. ”That’s good,” he murmured, finally returning a small smile to the other man. ”Is there anything else bothering you?” Yes, in fact. It was his biggest hang-up. One that he really didn’t see a solution to. ”I feel guilty for having these feelings.” Luka tilted his head. ”Why?” ”I was married once. I loved her so very much, I thought after losing her that I would never see someone in that way. I told her when she was ill that she was the only one for me, that I
would never love someone again. When she passed it was so difficult for me, even after all these years the pain is still there. Now I feel like I am betraying her.” ”Mmm, that is a heavy burden. I am so sorry for your loss.” Luka uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, hands steepled together as he considered his words. ”I can’t speak for you on this, but I can offer you some advice. It’s okay to not be ready for a relationship. In time that may come, but for now how about you enjoy his company? Get to know him, spend time with him. Being vulnerable can be scary and yes, sometimes you can get hurt. But sometimes maintaining those walls we build to protect ourselves do more damage than good. Try being honest, it’ll help him feel able to open up to you in return. Maybe you can include him in your hobbies or try to be a part of his. No one said you had to rush this, you can take your time. If you decide you don’t like the guy then hey, you gave it a shot and you’ve at least made a friend out of it.” He hesitated to admit that he was so painfully boring that no hobbies came to mind. He used to wallow in bed for a few hours, do some chores, and drink himself to sleep. He supposed he could at least try. “But let’s say you get to know this guy and you really like him. Obviously I have never been married but let’s say I passed and left my partner behind. If I loved them, all I would ever want was for them to be happy. If they found happiness in another person then I would be so grateful that they could be loved again as I once loved them.” He smiled wistfully, the homeowner had a feeling he was remembering someone in his past. ”Follow your heart Misha. Life’s too short to spend it alone. With these constant trials and tribulations, you deserve some happiness.” The homeowner felt a multitude of emotions, it was difficult to bear. He was sad, memories of Vera still dancing in his mind. There was hope though, a kindling flame that was determined to persist through even his darkest of thoughts. He wanted to try, feeling better than he had in weeks. Luka had significantly calmed his inner panic. He felt that given time he could perhaps overcome his destructive image of himself. ”These feelings seem different than how I felt for my wife. Sometimes I feel like he’s the most frustrating son of a bitch I’ve ever known. Then he’ll turn around and be incredibly charming. He riles me up sometimes on purpose, I fall for it all the time. Vera was extremely kind, a social butterfly whenever we went out in town. She cared for everyone, sometimes too much. My roommate’s more like me though, he’d rather not talk to others if he can help it. I don’t even think he likes other people, I honestly don’t know why he likes me. They’re so different from each other.” The homeowner sighed. He wasn’t even sure if he was making sense right now. Maybe he just needed a frame of reference. “Luka you’ve been in love before. How did you know?” ”Misha, just so you know everyone is different, so it would make sense for love to be different from person to person. I didn’t even realize I was in love at first, it grew overtime. I remember enjoying his company, the need to constantly be by his side.” Luka suddenly chuckled, propping his head up on one hand.
”You know he used to do this odd thing where he’d walk into a room, announce whatever random fact he’d recently picked up on the news or while reading, then immediately leave. The topics were never the same, and sometimes they were just random thoughts. Once it was about the versatility of a butter knife, another time it was why he felt he could personally fly an airplane despite having zero flight training. It never failed to make me smile.” The other man sighed, a bittersweet look in his eyes. “He used to make me laugh over nothing, I swear he could make anything funny. But my damn temper. I ruined everything. Now I wish I could have it all back, I hate myself for it every day. I hope he’s okay, and wish him all the happiness in the world.” The homeowner felt like he had a better understanding of Luka. Before he had assumed that he was kind because he was a naive fool. But it was clear that the man’s kindness was a choice, that despite whatever hardship and pain life threw his way, he chose to be kind. ”Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” ”Perhaps. But I’ve also come to terms with this ending. I would be willing to let someone else into my heart, should the time come.” Luka stood and collected the mugs, patting the homeowner on the shoulder while he was up. “I’m so glad you came today Misha. Please keep me updated, I know first hand how difficult this can be when you feel like you have no one to talk to.” The homeowner appreciated the man more than he’d ever know. “Thank you Luka. I’ll be taking you up on that offer.” The other man was positively beaming at him now, whisking the mugs back into the kitchen. “Let me make some more tea before you go! You need something warm before going back out there.” He shook his head, biting back a smile. Talking to Luka had been worth it after all. *** The pale man was so absorbed in the contents of the box at his feet he failed to notice the human had returned until it was too late. ”What are you doing?” He jerked his head up to meet the man’s questioning eyes, one hand holding open the closet door. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be looking through these, the closet was on the list of areas off-limits to him. Particularly the boxes hidden in the closet that now lay open at his feet. He didn’t know what to say, there was no excuse he could weave as to why he was going through these. He had been both bored and upset, if he couldn’t know one of the human’s secrets then he at least wanted answers for another. Was he angry? He didn’t want the human to be upset with him again, not after they’d been getting along so well. ”I apologize, I know I should not have—“ The human interrupted him, stepping fully inside the closet and taking a seat next to him on the floor. His jaw clicked shut, put off by the other’s actions. The visitor couldn’t read that blank expression. The human reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a photo. He eyed the other man wearily. The contents of the boxes were apparently very personal, filled with mementoes of the human and his family. However he shocked the pale man by handing the photo to him. He took it gingerly in his hands, recognizing the young face immediately.
”That’s me my freshman year in high school. You can tell because I don’t have the scar on my eyebrow yet.” He pointed at the faded photograph. Sure enough the scar was missing. The jacket he was wearing was way too big for him, a smaller gun than the one he used nowadays was slung across his back. “Think that was taken before a hunting trip. Can’t remember for sure though.” The pale man watched in wonder as he pulled another set of photographs out. ”Oh this was rifle team. I shot competitively for five years.” He offered the stack of photos to the visitor. His age ranged in the photos, but he could easily pick out the human among his teammates. Most of the other boys were smiling, arms around each other and making silly faces. Mikhail never was. He was often tucked into the background, a reserved expression on his face. ”Why are you telling me this?” He regretted the words as soon as he uttered them. He wanted this more than anything, hanging on to every piece of information the human was willing to give him. Now he was probably going to pack everything up and leave. Instead the man shrugged. ”I’ve been putting this off for fifteen years. Might as well do it now.” The pale man couldn’t hide his excitement, holding the photos closer to his chest. The human was choosing to include him in this. He trusted the pale man enough to show him a part of himself that no one else had laid eyes on in over a decade. He struggled to contain his enthusiasm, brushing shoulders with the other man as he pulled out a few medals. They were sharpshooting awards. One read ‘distinguished marksman’, another bore an image of a man with a rifle which said ‘kneeling position 1st place’. ”Did you enjoy shooting?” The human flipped through more photographs, his expression still blank and unreadable. ”Not particularly. But I was decent at it and practice was four days a week after school. It kept me out of the house. We traveled a lot for competitions as well. Anywhere was better than here.” His expression turned sour after seeing one picture. ”That,” he spat. “Is my father.” He took the photo from the human, his animosity was quite palpable. The man in the photograph looked severe, deep frown lines etched so deeply across his face it was likely the man had never smiled once in his life. They were standing outside of a church, the congregation milling about behind them. Mikhail was positioned at his side, a fresh cut was visible across his brow. His eyes were hollow, a look the visitor had never seen on the human. “The scar.” He pointed at the young man in the photo. “You have it here.” The human leaned closer, the visitor enjoyed the other’s body heat pressing against him. ”Yeah. Got into an argument with my old man. He forgot to take his ring off. Cut me pretty good.” The visitor looked at the scar now, still evident even after all these years. It split the human’s brow in two, a perfect white line separating the brown hairs. He was starting to get an idea of why the human had called him a ‘monster’.
They sat in that closet for hours, the visitor listening with rapt attention to every story the human was willing to divulge, hanging on to every word. He learned his father served in the military and that his grandmother used to live in the house as well. She used to make extravagant desserts, the smell would fill the entire house. He killed his first buck when he was eight years old. The picture was impressive, the young boy had held up the animal’s head by its antlers, dwarfing the small child. He didn't look happy to be there. The human didn’t know how to drive a car, but he knew how to operate a tractor. There were pictures of him baling hay for the neighbors, using the extra spending money after school at the arcade. He used to box competitively both in middle and early high school before getting kicked from the team for poor grades. ”Oh I didn’t even know these existed anymore.” The photos in his hand were in rough shape, a small child featured in the pictures. He was actually smiling in a few of the photos, partially toothless and hair cropped short. He had a toy rabbit clutched underneath one arm in almost every picture. The human had been a lanky child, baggy clothes with ripped knees. ”I got in a lot of trouble as a kid. Ran off a lot, got into things I shouldn’t.” ”Oh?” He leaned closer with interest. “Pray tell, what mischief did you get up to?” That got the human to crack the barest hint of a smile. “Well, one time I got it in my head I was going to be a professional bull rider. I saw an American doing it on TV one night and I seriously thought to myself ‘hey, I can do that’.” The pale man grinned. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. ”How old were you?” ”I don’t know, probably like eleven or twelve? Anyway I was grossly unprepared for what I had signed up for.” The visitor nodded and gestured for the human to continue. “So I snuck out one night to the neighbor’s place. They had cows at the time. It was the dead of winter and the snow was absolutely piled up in the fields. It was up past my legs and I was having trouble wading through it. Still, I was determined to be the next bull riding cowboy in Sebezh.” “The neighbor had the meanest bull at the time, a big brown bestuzhev that gave them hell. I snuck up on the bastard while he was sleeping, scaled the fence so I could reach him better. Then I jumped on his back.” The human paused to glare at the visitor, the pale man’s gleeful look was apparently not appreciated. He pushed at the visitor’s shoulder, earning a laugh from the man. ”Quit it or I’m not finishing the story.” ”No no no,” the pale man insisted. “You can’t stop there, tell me what happened.” The human snorted, and continued with a shake of his head. ”Well I fulfilled my dream of being a bull rider for a second or two. Unfortunately my career didn’t last. The bastard lost his shit, launched me so far I swear I flipped three times in midair. I landed flat on my back buried under two feet of snow. Probably the only reason I
survived honestly. But it didn’t end there, now I had a thousand pound bull after me and he was pissed. He chased me for hours, I ended up spending the night in the barn just so I could hide from him. The neighbor ended up finding me in the morning, covered in mud, blood, and cow shit.” He wasn’t sure who started laughing first, but once they started it was like they couldn’t stop. The visitor couldn’t look away from his human, he was so captivating like this. It was such a rare sight on him, eyes squeezed shut as his body shook from laughter. A warmth bubbled up in the visitor’s chest, unlike any feeling he had ever experienced before. He wanted to pull the human close, wrap his arms around him tightly and never let go. He couldn’t help but lean towards him, drawn to the other so fiercely it was as if the human was his center of gravity. Then Mikhail rested his head on his shoulder, wiping a hand at his eyes. Though the contact was brief, he couldn’t stop the happy rumbling from bursting from his chest. Eventually he regained his senses, opting to reach for the final bins in the closet. The next few boxes were all from his father’s past, the human’s mood worsened as he looked over the contents. The visitor would toss everything in those bins deep in the forest if it got him to stop making that face. The final container seemed to be a collection of paperwork, mostly house information and records. But the human seemed to find something interesting among all the yellowed pages, yanking the box closer and staring hard. Slowly he lifted an envelope that had been tucked into the back of the box, a strange expression of his face. The visitor tried to get a better look at the letter, wondering what could possibly be so interesting to the human. The only thing written on the envelope was the human’s name, the handwriting elegant and swooping. ”What is it?” He didn’t miss how the human pulled the letter closer to his chest, glazed eyes suddenly snapping back to the visitor. ”I… I’m not sure.” The human was suddenly on his feet, the visitor instantly missing the other’s warmth. He watched him tuck the letter into his back pocket before sliding the boxes back into their respective places. “It’s late. We should probably turn in for the night.” The visitor’s heart dropped, he had really hoped to sprawl out in the office with the human tonight. He tried to mask his disappointment, slowly rising to his feet as well. ”As you wish.” He watched the other disappear behind the bedroom door, wishing that he could stop the growing ache in his chest. He suppressed a shiver, the house was starting to get painfully cold. Layering wasn’t enough, his body’s ability to self regulate temperature was poor at best. The visitor shuffled over to his pitiful sleeping arrangement, the couch had never seemed no lonesome. He curled into himself, pulling a threadbare pillow into his arms. He buried his face into the fabric, wishing he was cradling his human instead. *** He debated whether he should open the envelope or not, worrying at the flap with hesitation. The homeowner hadn’t seen the letter in years, he had honestly completely forgotten it existed. He had never opened it, couldn’t find the strength to. When Vera had taken a turn for the worse he had spent almost all of his time by her hospital bed. It had been hell seeing her like that, machines beeping, growing weaker and weaker as the days went by. Lord knows what all she had been hooked up to.
A few days before she passed she had handed him the letter instructing him to open it after she was gone. He had stubbornly tried to give the envelope back, insisting that she wasn’t going to need to give that to him, she’d pull through and they’d walk out of this hospital together. But she had been equally stubborn, refusing to take no for an answer. It had led to a fight, he had been so angry at her because the letter seemed like a goodbye. Like she was giving up. And he felt so so shitty about it. She was dying and all he could think about was how hollow his life would be without her. In the end he took the letter, and she thanked him with the happiest smile on her face. And two days later she was gone. He couldn’t really remember much after that, he lived his life almost in a fog. The letter weighed heavy in his pocket, a reminder of what he had lost. In a moment of weakness he shoved it into a random box in the depths of his closet. And he never went back for it. The homeowner swallowed thickly. Shame and guilt burned at his core. She had wanted him to read this. And yet the thought of tearing the seal made him physically ill. If he was going to make peace with Vera, he was going to have to open this letter one day. But today was not that day. He lowered the envelope onto his nightstand, apologizing silently for his weakness. The homeowner let out a shaky breath and swore that one day he was going to be brave. He owed her this. *** It was forecasting snow by the end of the week. He watched the weatherman ramble about cold fronts and precipitation wondering how the man could even see through the thick curtain of hair draped across his face. The cat was upside down, proudly exposing its fat belly for the homeowner to pat. He was the strangest cat he had ever owned, the animal enjoyed a good stomach rub. His previous cat would have clawed his eyes out for that. Eventually he mosied out of the bed, no longer needing the brace to walk. His leg still didn’t feel quite right, but it wasn’t in pain. He considered that a win. He had just opened the door with the intention of taking a shower when he stopped, the sight of the visitor crouching in the hallway confusing him. The pale man turned his head when he heard him, cheeks flushed and eyes desperate. He pointed at something in front of him. ”This can produce heat, correct?” He realized he was pointing at the wood stove. ”Yeah.” The visitor’s eyes lit up. ”Can you turn it on?” The homeowner pursed his lips. ”It’s a little early in the season for that. We’d run out of firewood by mid winter.” A flurry of emotions flickered across the pale man’s face, before settling on a reserved frown. Upon closer inspection he realized the man was shivering, though only slightly. Though he was torn he knew this was for the best. They needed to be smart regarding winter, he hadn’t been able to properly stockpile due to the cataclysm. He had just passed the man, believing the conversation to be over when a frigid hand grabbed his wrist, so cold it made him hiss.
”Fuck!” “Misha.” He froze, wide eyes locked onto the visitor. The pale man met his gaze coolly, a silent plea in those dark eyes. “Please?” He hated how quickly he caved to him. *** He was a little bitter about this, he couldn’t deny it. To him it wasn’t even that cold, having fared far worse conditions before. But he supposed as long as the visitor helped replenish the stock then he’d be willing to stoke a fire. The pale man was happily standing nearby, having dragged several uncut wood rounds over to the human. He was wearing the parka today, the coat seemed a tad overkill for this weather with its fur lined hood and reinforced sleeves. At least he didn’t have to whip out the chainsaw today, he wasn’t even quite sure if it still worked after baking for two months in the shed. ”What is the purpose of this?” The visitor asked, gesturing at the rounds. The homeowner rolled his stiff shoulders, he didn’t particularly enjoy splitting wood. ”We’ll have to break up the wood otherwise it won’t fit in the stove. Since we’re tapping into the supply before I had really planned on it, I thought it would be best if we replenished as much as possible before it gets too wet to get anything done.” He pried the axe out of the stump he used as a work area. He pointed at the visitor then to the perfectly stacked firewood lined against the side of the house. “Your job is to keep bringing rounds to split and stack the cut wood over there. Got it?” The pale man gave him one of those weird smiles that he didn’t understand. Sometimes he wondered if it was because it amused him when he dared to give him orders. “As you wish.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes, the amusement in the other’s tone basically incriminated himself. The visitor found this funny. But at least he followed instructions, dutifully rolling more and more logs over to the homeowner. He side eyed the log in front of him, knowing that by the end of this he was going to be sweaty, sore, and exhausted. Moving one hand up to the blade and the other by the end of the handle, he set his jaw. He might as well get this over with. When done correctly gravity did most of the work, but that didn’t mean that this was easy. He wrenched the axe around and over his head, hands sliding down as the blade slammed into the block below, halving the log instantly. Each round had to be broken multiple times, setting the pieces back up and splitting them again and again until they were usable. Once he got into a rhythm his mind went blissfully quiet, all focus was put towards the task at hand. Stack. Split. Repeat. The callouses on his hands gripped the handle tighter, sweat beading across his brow. The axe came down once more, the homeowner pushing up the sleeves of his sweater as he continued. Stack. Split. Repeat. He grunted in frustration, panting as it became harder to see through the sweat dripping into his eyes. He wiped at his face with his shirt and pressed on, muscles already protesting the
action. The homeowner was a stubborn man, no stranger to enduring discomfort. But as the sweater became tacky and rubbed unpleasantly against his skin he snapped. Fuck this. He peeled the soggy garment off with a curse and flung it behind him, not caring where it landed. Reaching for the axe handle yet again he returned to his task with renewed vigor, no longer suffocating under that blasted sweater. It was a long time before he acknowledged the growing ache in his hands and back. He repositioned his grip on the handle and scowled. There were blisters forming despite the hard-earned callouses along his palms. Guess his hands had grown soft during the cataclysm. He was just about to wrench the axe up when a cool touch along his back nearly made him squeal. He whipped his head around, neck popping in protest. The pale man was standing uncomfortably close, eyes fixed on an area just between his shoulder blades. ”What the hell are you—“ his voice died in his throat, realizing what the man’s fingers were gently tracing over. ”These scars look old.” It took every fiber of his being to fight the urge to stiffen up and shut down. There was no way the visitor knew how sensitive he was about being touched there. He shivered as those fingers continued their unhurried exploration down his spine. “Tell me, how did you get these?” The homeowner turned his face away, forcing himself to take a calming breath. His first instinct was to push away, change the subject or get defensive. But Luka’s words resurfaced in his mind. ”Get to know him, spend time with him. Being vulnerable can be scary and yes, sometimes you can get hurt. But sometimes maintaining those walls we build to protect ourselves do more damage than good. Try being honest, it’ll help him feel able to open up to you in return.” He grit his teeth. Those scars reminded him of weakness. Humiliation. So his dad beat him, big deal. There were plenty of kids that had it far worse than him, he was a grown man for god’s sake. Get over it. Yet here he was, rooted to the spot over some dumb ass scars. Would the visitor think less of him? For some reason the thought of the pale man finding him pathetic made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He snapped out of it when he felt the touch change from featherlight touches to the visitor spreading his hands across the old injuries, pressing more firmly into the homeowner’s heated skin. ”Misha?” His eyes widened. There was concern in his tone. He relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes, grounding himself by focusing on the other’s touch. He could try being honest. Besides he was holding a weapon, if the visitor made one snarky comment he was burying the axe right between his eyes. ”I already told you, I got into a lot of trouble as a kid. So my dad felt he needed to teach me a lesson every time I stepped out of line. He always believed pain was the best motivator. Sometimes, when I did something he considered ‘really bad’, he believed the only way I
could truly learn was if I was bleeding.” He felt gross admitting this, refusing to turn and look at the other man. He didn’t want to see his expression right now. Instead of stepping away as he expected he felt the man press closer, hands now roaming freely as if he was determined to map out every scar, freckle, or blemish that marred his skin. He jolted slightly when his back met the visitor’s chest, that oddly comforting rumble now reverberating through his core. Those long fingers stopped on a mark on his bicep. ”And this one?” The homeowner felt like his brain was short circuiting, flushing harder now than he had chopping wood the past few hours. ”Uh, farming accident,” he replied dumbly. He watched as his touch continued lower onto his forearm, his grip turning to reveal the teeth marks long etched into his skin. ”An animal?” He nodded. ”Dad had a hunting dog. Kept it chained on the porch and starved it so it would chase its prey harder. No one was allowed to touch it, he didn’t want the animal going ‘soft’. I used to walk past it every time I had to leave or enter the house. It turned on me one day.” He felt the other lean over his shoulder to get a better look, fingers tightening slightly on his arm. ”Is this why you have an aversion to dogs?” ”Probably.” It definitely was. He had been so scared at the time, cowering with his arms shielding his face as the hound tore viciously at his sleeves, screaming for his father to come save him. The man had to have heard him. Still he took his sweet time to pull the animal off. ”Your father was a horrible human.” While he agreed he couldn’t respond, too focused on where those hands were heading now. A cool finger tapped at his jaw, the little white line so faint he was shocked he could see it. He answered before he even had to ask. ”Knicked myself shaving when I was sixteen.” Pale hands slid down to his collar bones, his breath quickening from the touch. He swallowed thickly. This needed to stop before things got out of control. Yet he couldn’t seem to push his hands away. “Crashed my bike into a fence.” He was doomed. His body was highly reactive to the other man’s touch, jumping and twitching as his fingers brushed over his sternum. God this was going to end terribly wasn’t it? Did the visitor even know what he was doing to him? He bit his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood, choking any inappropriate sound that threatened to spill out so he wouldn’t die of embarrassment. A voice in his ear made him nearly drop the axe, head turning away involuntarily. “So many scars.” The homeowner didn’t pick up the reverence in those words, too caught up in how ugly the marks made him feel. “Yeah I know,” he growled, hands tightening on the wooden handle. “Scars show weakness.” That’s what his father always told him. The visitor made a displeased sound, his grip on the homeowner tightening.
”No,” he rumbled, a finger tapping at one of the many marks marring his skin. “Scars show strength. A permanent mark that exhibits your refusal to be broken.” The visitor’s hand retreated and pressed against the old injuries on his back. “He couldn’t break you. I couldn’t break you. Not even Death Herself could claim you. Enduring so much anguish, pain, torment. And yet here you are, heart still beating despite every hardship. Amazing.” The homeowner was speechless, mouth slack in shock at the other’s words. How the visitor could see anything deeper than a man who stumbled through life with a fucked up childhood and a preference to stay holed up in his house like a coward, he couldn’t understand. The embrace he was currently trapped in suddenly felt too tender. He couldn’t take it. ”We need to get back to work. It’s going to snow soon. There’s only a few more days before this wood becomes too wet to use.” The pale man made a quiet sound in complaint, the purring slowly fading away. He missed the sensation immediately. ”But I brought all of the rounds? What more can I do?” He suddenly realized that he was right, too distracted to notice his surroundings. How the hell had he dragged all of this over? He was surrounded on all sides by uncut logs, precisely stacked as if the visitor had done so with extreme care. That woodpile had been ginormous, made over the years from fallen trees in the yard and forest nearby. Guess he had underestimated the pale man’s speed and strength. He pulled himself out of the other’s hold, the visitor pouting at the loss instantly. The homeowner repositioned a log onto his work area, suppressing a shiver. Sitting still for so long had reminded him that it was cool out. He needed to get moving again. ”Then you should collect as much kindling as possible. You know, small sticks and brush? There’ll be plenty in the woods. It’ll help start the fire.” The pale man frowned, looking like he’d rather not do that. But the homeowner motioned for him to get going. “Seriously. We need to get a move on.” He watched the other skulk away, feeling a bit guilty sending the other out alone. He just needed a breather, the visitor’s presence was currently very distracting. He’d rather not miss and chop his leg off because he was too busy day dreaming about his roaming hands. He’d make it up to him tonight by preparing a nice warm meal. *** The pale man didn’t particularly care to venture into the forest right now. Not when he was pulling such interesting reactions out of his human. The man was so sensitive, he could feel every twitch and sharp inhale the human had made as he marveled at his form. He was breathtaking. When the hermit had discarded the sweater he had frozen, enraptured by the shifting of muscles in every powerful movement he made. He couldn’t help but stand closer, noticing how the scars along his back stretched as he worked. While he truly did find all the marks on his body fascinating, hearing the story behind some of them filled him with a renewed hatred for the human race. He never knew he could hate a dead man so much. His arms were unbearably full, staggering back to the forest’s exit when he stopped. A low growl formed in his throat out of instinct. There was a visitor’s presence nearby. He honed in
on it, focusing on whether he recognized it or not. He threw the kindling down and whirled around, hackles raised when he realized who it was. ”So we meet again,” the bald man spoke morosely, looking far worse for wear than the last time they met. The pale man snarled, he had always detested the prophet. ”Why are you here?” The other man didn’t flinch despite the ferocity behind his words. His skin was sallow, eyes sightless and cloudy. “I have come to offer a word of warning.” The pale man snorted, he didn’t believe in his ‘visions’. Even back during the cataclysm he had found them ridiculous. ”She no longer speaks to us. Don’t lie to me.” The prophet stepped closer, he noted that he almost appeared to be a walking corpse. His filthy clothes hung loosely off his skeletal form, cheeks sunken in and scruffy. He was definitely on his way out. “She no longer shares Her visions with me, yes. Though I can still remember everything from before.” The pale man was repulsed by the other, the sickly rattle of the visitor’s breathing turning his stomach. ”You know I care not for your ‘insight’. Leave now and I will allow you to die in peace. Say another word and you will regret it.” ”I have borne witness to many timelines, some similar in nature and others diverging into something new entirely. This one is strange, much different than most paths I have walked. As such I feel it necessary to spare both you and him from tragedy.” The pale man bristled at the mention of his human. ”Don’t bring him into this or I swear—“ The prophet cut him off with a wave of his hand. “You must leave now. Do not return to the house. Such actions will spare you both from an end most gruesome. It is for the best.” He was moving before his mind caught up to his actions. The pale man slammed the other into a tree, hands fisted into his soiled clothing. Despite being held several feet off the ground the other visitor remained emotionless. ”I told you to cease your deluded ramblings! I will not leave him and I will not allow anything to happen to my human while I still live and breathe.” ”And there lies the root of our problem,” the man spoke softly, unbothered by the other’s rough grip on him. “He is not yours. There is no timeline where you get what you want. It is doomed to forever slip through your fingers. Unattainable. You were never meant to experience your own ‘happy ending’.” The pale man ignored how his hands were trembling, rage boiling over as he glared down at the pathetic visitor in his hold. “Then humor me seer. What ‘endings’ are in my future?” “Some endings are less tragic than others. This path— timeline if you will, is the most torturous ending of all. If you do not leave by winter’s end then you will lose what you
cherish most by your own hands.” The pale man unconsciously lowered the prophet to the ground, brows creased in worry. ”What will happen?” He hated that his voice wavered. The sickly visitor removed his hands from his clothing, expression stony. ”I have already said too much. If you care at all for the human you will put as much distance as you can from this place. I must go now, please do not disregard my warning.” The pale man fought the urge to tear the prophet apart, furious with himself for even humoring the other visitor. He was already disappearing into the tree line, gait unnatural and haunting. He stood there for a long time, fighting a war in his mind. The prophet was wrong all the time. He told the human once that ‘for two days yonder, testing portends doom’. As soon as the prophet had left the human’s porch the pale man had listened only to hear the human immediately checking the new arrivals for visitor signs. Two days passed and the man had been fine, nothing of importance had really happened. And he had emphasized the importance of that mangy feline only for it to be the most useless creature he had ever seen. So he had very little faith in his words. But his prediction had still shaken him. Everything in him screamed to run back to the human right now, double check that he was alright. The thought of leaving now was unbearable, he had found comfort in this new life. He had no purpose anymore. A servant without a master. He was just a monster dressed in human clothing. But if She was gone, why did it matter? He could pretend to be something he wasn’t, he could live as a human. But only if that life was with Mikhail, his one pocket of warmth in this awful world. He clenched his fists, making up his mind. He would not abandon his human. He would fight for this humble life. Nothing, human nor visitor would tear Misha away from him.
Chapter 7: I’m Yours Chapter Summary Mikhail hosts the parentless teenager over fall break. Only one problem: he forgot to tell her about his ‘roommate’. Pale man uncovers some things about himself and reunites with someone from his past. Chapter Notes Alright here’s the rest of the original chapter 6. Now you guys can see why I had to split the chapter, it’s enormous. I also wanna mention I wrote the plot of this fic before the big update, so there’s some things that differ from canon. I truly hope you guys enjoy this, this is my first time writing smut and sharing it. No one told me how embarrassing it would be to share that with my beta reader haha! The first snow came and went, the homeowner staring proudly at the massive stockpile of firewood he had managed to prepare before the weather had taken a turn. Really a large part of it had been thanks to the visitor’s help, who had been surprisingly helpful after he returned with the kindling. Turns out visitors don’t need axes, the man was able to tear the logs apart with his bare hands. This was both terrifying to the homeowner as well as absurdly hot. He had to take the coldest shower of his life just to calm down afterwards. The pale man adored the wood stove, now seen frequently lounging in front of it. He had even dragged some throw pillows over, forcing the homeowner to step over the man every time he needed to wash clothes or use the bathroom. It made him laugh, the visitor acted more and more like a cat than he realized. He was in the middle of unloading the washing machine when the phone rang. Leaving the basket on the floor he made his way to the foyer, the visitor rolling over to watch him. ”Hello?” There was a familiar meek voice on the other line. ”Oh, hello there Mikhail… I don’t suppose you remember me…” He did. He could never forget the kindergarten teacher’s voice, having felt so much guilt over yelling at the poor woman back then. She had been slipping into a self destructive spiral, the way she had been
eyeing his gun had him reacting before he could think it through. She was thinking of killing herself, a look he recognized all too well. He had screamed at her to pull herself together, not knowing any other way to snap her out of it. He remembered how she flinched away in fear, before weeping silently into her hands. It had made him feel disgusting, like his father. Even though he couldn’t take back his words he had stood with her for a long time, only offering a hand on her shoulder in comfort. He didn’t know what else to do. ”I remember. How’s Margo?” The woman on the other end perked up at that, tone changing from hesitant to friendly. ”Oh Margarita—“ The woman fumbled over her word’s, correcting herself. “Rita’s been well. She’s been reenrolled in school and has been performing near the top of her class. Classes are small right now since so many buildings were lost… But um…” The woman paused as if she was building up the courage to continue. When she found her voice she was hushed, like she didn’t want someone to overhear. “She’s been really lonely. I know she tries to hide it but she’s been having some trouble making new friends at school. She’s been asking about you a lot. You really made an impact on her, you know. I was wondering… she gets a week off for fall break in a few days, would you be willing to have her over? It would mean the world to her.” The homeowner was fond of the teen, she reminded him so much of himself. They had bonded during the cataclysm over their awful fathers, the girl found comfort in knowing that someone else had experiences similar to her own. While he worried that his life was too dreary to entertain the girl, he didn’t hesitate to offer up a room if that’s truly what she wanted. ”She’s always welcome. But won’t she be bored out of her mind? I’ve got nothing for entertainment here, not even movies.” ”That’s no problem, we’ve been working on getting her caught up on her reading. She’ll have her books and a bit of homework to occupy her, honestly though I think just talking to you again will make her happy.” It made him proud in a way that someone so young looked up to him. Especially when he was probably the most uninteresting man in Sebezh. ”Okay. When should I expect her?” The kindergarten teacher went over travel details, the homeowner agreeing to go into town to wait for the teen at a city bus stop. ”Thank you so much, I can’t wait to tell her the news.” He was glad to hear the woman sound so content, far different from her time in the office. At least she had found some peace. ”No problem.” He placed the phone back on the receiver, thoughts now swirling with all the things he needed to do. If he was going to have company in two days he had some serious cleaning to do. *** Margo must have lived far away. She was arriving on the final city bus of the night, the sun having gone down hours ago. He prayed the bus was still on schedule, they had to try and
catch the last rural bus or they would be forced to hail a taxi. His fears were negated by the sound of a rumbling engine, the vehicle pulling up to the station. He saw her wild curly hair before she had even exited the bus, illuminated by the overhead streetlights. She locked eyes with him instantly, a crooked grin breaking out across her face. ”Old man!” She dropped her bags on the concrete and squeezed the life out of him, the homeowner wincing in pain. She was surprisingly strong for her age. ”Good to see you too, kid.” She released him from her crushing grip, reaching for her back pack. The homeowner went to pick up her duffle bag, which felt like it was filled with nothing but bricks. She saw his face and rolled her eyes. ”Yeah, Teach is making me read while school’s out. Thought the point of a break was to get away from school.” He hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder and started down the pavement, the runaway following after him. She was wearing a knitted hat instead of her usual baseball cap, adorned with a comically large Pom Pom on top. The homeowner had a feeling the teacher forced her to wear it. ”How’s school?” The girl crinkled her nose. ”Ugh. It’s whatever. Not many kids came back… But the ones that did? I could live without seeing them again.” ”How come?” ”They’re assholes. Every last one of them. The boys are all bullies and the girls have these little cliques. I’d just rather stay home.” He understood. The homeowner had always struggled to fit in at school, choosing instead to keep his distance whenever necessary. During the bus ride home Margo caught him up on what’s been happening in her life since last they saw each other. ”Well you know my folks, right?” She murmered voice low as to not draw attention. He nodded and waited for her to continue. He didn’t miss how the girl gripped her jeans, even though her face remained neutral. “They didn’t make it. Got caught up in the fires.” The homeowner didn’t know what to say, knowing the complicated feelings the girl held for her parents. ”I’m sorry.” She grimaced. ”Don’t be. They were awful. Now I don’t ever have to be afraid they’ll come for me. Living with Teach can be annoying, sure. She’ll get onto me about cleaning my room, doing my homework, you know, dumb stuff like that. But she actually cares about me. Checks in on me, asks how I’ve been. My own mom never gave a shit about me like that. And you know how Dad was…” He did. Still, he could tell in her posture their deaths bothered her. Comfort was something he struggled with, and knowing how many creeps the poor girl had encountered he didn’t offer a
hand on the shoulder like he did for the teacher. The best thing he could do was change the subject. ”So there’s no one in school you get along with? No one at all?” The teen paused, tapping one painted nail on her chin as she did. ”Well, there is this quiet girl who seems nice. But she’s almost never there.” ”Really? Why?” ”I don’t know. I think she gets sick a lot. I thought about inviting her to sit with me at lunch but I don’t want to get blown off again.” The bus jerked to a stop, the two stepping out into the crisp evening air. ”You said she was quiet right?” The teen nodded, fiddling with a keychain on her backpack. It almost looked like a little video game, a cute little animal bouncing around on the tiny green screen. “She’s probably shy. You should at least try talking to her.” The runaway rolled her eyes and groaned. ”Now you sound like Teach. Fine. I’ll try talking to her.” They were approaching the house, the girl bounding up the steps two at a time. She was chatting excitedly to him as he opened the door, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke. “I’ve got this book series now that’s rad as hell! It’s got this lady knight that goes around kicking ass and doesn’t let anyone boss her around! And get this! There’s even dragons and magic and stuff, it’s like, super cool. You should try reading it, I’m on book four but I brought the other books if you wanted to—“ She froze, eyes suddenly going wide. He paused, confused by her reaction. She whirled around, trying desperately to drag him back through the door. ”What’s wrong?” ”He’s here! The pale man! He’s in the house, we have to run—“ The homeowner’s mouth went dry, realizing he had forgotten to mention his new roommate to the teen. It had completely slipped his mind, forgetting that she was one of the few who had seen him during the cataclysm. He looked up at the visitor, who was slowly sitting up from his spot on the floor. Their eyes met, a silent question in the visitor’s gaze. The teen gasped and backed away from them both, pressing against the window in the foyer, wearing a look of pure hurt and betrayal. ”You knew? You fucking knew he was in here!” The homeowner tried to calm her down. ”Margo, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you.” ”Bullshit! He’s turned you into a visitor hasn’t he? Thought I’d be an easy meal, huh? Well jokes on you! I’m not going down without a fight!” The pale man had gotten up, observing the girl in clear amusement. It pissed the homeowner off, shooting the man a glare in the hopes he would cut it out.
“Misha, I didn’t know you were a visitor,” he cooed, smiling brightly at the man. “You’re not helping,” he growled, trying to keep his voice low. ”See!” She pointed at the two of them. “He calls you Misha! I knew it, you’re working together!” He stepped closer, hurt when she flinched away. He was so stupid, how could he have fucked up this badly? He knelt down, trying to look at her from her eye level. ”Listen to me Margo. I would never, ever endanger you. If I thought it wasn’t safe for you to come here, I wouldn't have let you visit.” She was still glaring at him, fury burning in her eyes in a way he had never seen. He hated the way she was looking at him. ”Why is he here?” She spat. ”He lives here now. The visitors died off but a few were left behind.” “And you let him in? Are you insane?” ”I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I didn’t believe him at first either but he’s not like how he was before.” He almost said he was harmless, but grimaced at the thought. That would be lying, he was the most dangerous thing in the house. Instead he said, “I promise, he won’t hurt you.” He looked back at the visitor, leveling him with a stern look. “Right?” The pale man stopped picking at his teeth with a fingernail, blinking at the homeowner when he realized he was talking to him. ”Oh yes, I am a very good visitor now. I keep the killing to a minimum.” God he should have known not to let him open his mouth. ”I’m sorry, he’s an idiot. Please don’t listen to him—“ ”I wanna go home.” The girl was shaking, fists balled at her sides. The homeowner deflated under her glare. Finally he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ”Okay. I can take you back tomorrow. The buses aren’t running anymore tonight.” ”I’m not staying here.” ”He stays in the office, he won’t bother you—“ ”None of the rooms in this house have a lock! I’m not staying here!” ”You can stay in my room if that makes you more comfortable. It has a lock. I’ll stay in the living room.” The cat waddled away, unbothered by the commotion. The animal gave the homeowner a bright idea. “Listen! He’s afraid of the cat, if it makes you feel safer keep him with you. Promise.” The visitor was glaring at him now, most likely aggravated he phrased his dislike for the cat like that. The girl seemed to actually be weighing her options, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. ”Fine.” The homeowner relaxed, feeling like he won a tiny victory today.
”Okay. Just,” he motioned between himself and the girl. “Before you make up your mind to leave, give us a chance. I’ll make dinner, we can settle down a little bit, then we can get you situated for the night, okay?” She narrowed her eyes at the visitor. ”I’m not sitting next to him.” ”You don’t have to.” Eventually the girl acquiesced. He gave a tense smile. One small victory for the night. *** The pale man glared at the animal across from him, the cat happily sitting atop the girl’s lap. The tiny human had not taken her eyes off of him since they sat down. If looks could kill, then he would be dead three times over. He frowned, wishing his human would finish dinner and distract the angry girl. ”Sooooo,” She began, one hand scratching the cat’s chin. “What’s your plan? You trying to eat him?” ”I tried a ‘human diet’ before. Wasn’t a huge fan.” The homeowner shot him the coldest look, it screamed ‘Shut the fuck up’. ”Then you’re gonna turn him into a zombie, huh?” ”I cannot. I do not have the ability to infect others.” ”Fucking liar. Visitors were spreading their cooties like crazy during the cataclysm.” ”He’s a super visitor apparently,” the homeowner called from the stove. “That’s different from a regular visitor.” She narrowed her eyes. ”So what does that mean? You can shoot lasers from your eyes? Oh but front doors are your kryptonite, can’t break those down apparently.” He gave her a lazy smile, despite the child wearing on his nerves. The visitor didn’t enjoy the shift in the house, tensions and nerves running high. Especially his human, he could tell this was severely stressing him out, shoulders tight and eyes tired. He wanted this to be over already. ”Tiny human, let’s agree to a truce. I do not have any insidious plans to kill you. All I desire is a peaceful house. Please stop upsetting Misha.” Two humans stared at him in indignation. ”She’s not—“ ”I’m not upsetting him!” her voice was shrill before recovering, looking a little embarrassed. “Ugh! Whatever.” She scowled at him, the pale man simply smiling sweetly in return. Though she got him back moments later. He flinched away when suddenly the cat was propped up on the table, an evil glint in her eyes upon noticing his reaction. It was the homeowner that interrupted their stand off, carrying dinner to the table. ”Please stop fighting, both of you.” The visitor noted the exhaustion in his voice.
”I wouldn't dream of it. In fact, I believe we are getting along quite nicely.” It was amusing how similar the two humans were. Currently, both were glaring at him. The homeowner pinched his nose for several minutes before placing his palms flat against the table. ”Any chance we can keep this civil and have a normal meal?” The runaway kept her eyes locked on the pale man as she ate. ”Nah-uh old man.” She pointed a spoon at the visitor across from her. “No way we aren’t talking about pale-ass weirdo here.” The human sighed and relented. ”Okay. Then here’s how this is gonna go. You get five questions tonight. You can ask more tomorrow, alright?” The teen didn’t look pleased with this at all. ”I want him to answer some questions.” He could feel the homeowner watching him, nervously tapping his fingers on the table. This was becoming such a bother, the visitor honestly considered leaving and returning to his spot in front of the fire. ”Only if he wants to.” He couldn’t help the swell of affection at those words. He supposed he could tolerate this a little longer if only for him. ”As you wish. Ask away.” ”Why are you here?” ”I live here.” She rolled her eyes. ”You know what I meant! Why did you come back here,” she motioned around her. “To this house specifically?” He frowned. She probably wouldn’t care for the full answer. He came back for the human, hoping against all odds he had miraculously survived. So he settled for a different yet true statement. ”It was familiar to me.” ”Why did you terrorize us back when the sun was blowing up?” ”I was following orders.” ”Orders? What the hell are you talking about, are you saying you had ‘orders’ to kill a bunch of people and stalk us?” ”Yes.” She looked uncomfortable for a moment. ”Ooookay. So what, you had a visitor queen telling you what to do?” ”Something like that.” She blinked a few times, distrust in her eyes. ”Then where’s your queen now?” ”Most likely burrowed deep in the planet’s core.” The teen opened her mouth only to be cut off by the homeowner.
”Nope, that was five. You can ask more tomorrow. Now everyone shut up and eat your food.” The visitor could hear her muttering under her breath. ”That’s not fucking fair and you know it.” Fortunately the rest of dinner went by uneventfully. He hoped the rest of the week wasn’t going to be like this. *** The teen was watching him from the door while he changed the linens in the bedroom, the cat still cradled in her arms. When he was done he threw a few extra pillows on the bed, knowing that the mattress wasn’t the most comfortable in the world. ”Okay kid. It’s all ready for you. Just call out if you need anything, I’ll be in the living room next door.” She didn’t respond, silently pushing past him and sitting on the bed, a dark look on her face. The homeowner was lost in this situation, having almost no experience with children. He knew she was angry and hurt, more than likely still convinced that the pale man was going to kill her in her sleep. He honestly couldn’t blame her, she had been one of the only guests to truly see what he was capable of back then. This was probably the normal reaction to have when encountering a dangerous visitor, not invite them into your house and take them grocery shopping. Before he left he dragged her bags into the room, setting them at the foot of the bed. Right when he was about to stand back up she shuffled closer. He froze at her expression, she was fighting back tears. ”Mikhail please,” she whispered, looking so small and so scared. “Why did you let that monster in? What’s going on?” His chest felt heavy with guilt. This was his fault. He needed to fix this, like it or not the visitor was important to him now, but so was Margo. Losing either of them would be devastating. He sat down on the floor to protect his aging knees and tried to explain himself. ”I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s not like before. When he first came to the house I was so angry and afraid. He wanted in the house, saying some horseshit about needing a place to stay and that he wasn’t going to hurt me. I thought to myself, ‘after all that suffering and hiding for two months I’m really just going to die anyways?’ And I lost it, punched him square in the mouth.” The girl smiled for the first time since she had arrived. ”Please tell me you kicked his ass.” He fought a smile and shook his head. “It was a draw.” He didn’t tell her how he was pretty sure the visitor had been holding back at the time, never intending to truly harm him. “But we walked away from it with a better understanding of each other. He used to be a human before. Did you know that?” She shook her head, arms wrapped around her knees as she listened. ”He can’t remember much, but he remembers more and more every day. You only knew him as a visitor, but he’s a person too. He’s annoying as hell sometimes but he’s good company.”
”How can you say that when you saw what he did?” The teen didn’t sound accusatory, her hushed voice was more fearful than anything. “He killed all those people.” ”He did. And if what he says is true then he really was following orders.” ”And what if he’s lying?” ”He’s actually the most honest man I’ve ever known. He’s never lied to me.” There was a heavy silence between them, the girl looked unsure of what to think. ”You know,” he began, sitting up a little straighter. “Luka and Yesenin came down to meet him.” The teen perked up, cocking a brow at the man. ”They did?” ”Yep. We played black jack, went out for drinks, got into a bar fight.” ”You?” She motioned at him in disbelief. “Boring, predictable, ‘goes to bed after one beer’ Mikhail, got into a bar fight? Now I know you’re lying.” But she was smiling again, that playful glint in her eyes had returned. It was such a relief to see her acting more like herself, he was smiling before he could help himself. ”Yeah, not one of my proudest moments. But you know, he had my back during the fight, and several times after that too.” The teen fiddled with a loose string from her multicolored socks, a different design on each foot. Must be the current trend these days. ”What else did he do?” ”He sometimes helps around the house, cooking, splitting wood, and so on. Stopped a feral dog from ripping my face off in the yard.” He paused, his face softening as he continued. “And he saved my life.” ”Really? How?” ”Another visitor came to the house. He stopped it from taking me away.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail regarding the body eater. If the poor girl knew something as horrible as that existed she would never sleep again. “It’s dead now, don’t worry.” She hummed and continued fiddling with her sock. After a few moments she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. ”Fiiiine. I’ll try to be nice to your visitor boyfriend.” He choked, instantly flushing bright red. ”He is not—“ She interrupted his protests with a laugh. ”Whatever you say, old man. What’s his name?” He was still trying to recover from her earlier comment, muttering under his breath about teens and disrespecting their elders. ”He can’t remember it. And don’t you dare ask him or he’ll lie to you.” He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was asking him first thing tomorrow. He stood up, groaning as his
knees popped in protest. “Try to get some sleep. Goodnight Margo.” She watched him leave, worrying at her bottom lip in thought. When he reached the door she spoke up. ”I trust you Misha. But that doesn’t mean I trust him.” He nodded, he could understand why. She mimed a turning motion with her hands. “Could you lock the door when you leave?” ”Of course.” She looked relieved, settling back against the pillows. ”G’night old man.” The homeowner stifled a laugh, so relieved that she didn’t hate him anymore. He flipped the lock on the handle and closed the door, feeling a lot better now after their talk. The door to the office was cracked open, the pale man was probably rereading one of his father’s old dusty books. He felt bad, they hadn’t had time to grab any new magazines for the man with everything that had been going on. He nearly walked past and paused. Luka had mentioned part of getting to know someone was joining in on their hobbies. Could this be one of the pale man’s hobbies? Reading? He usually sat in here in the evenings anyway, but typically in his own armchair. He tapped at his leg in thought. What if he joined him on the couch? Would that be weird? No, the visitor literally groped him a few days ago out in the yard and thought that was completely normal, he wouldn’t think sharing the couch would be anything unusual. He pushed his way into the room, the visitor glancing up as he entered. The tall man was taking up the entire couch, so there was no way he could just join nonchalantly. He was half tempted to bail and go back to his armchair, but he scrounged up enough strength to approach the visitor and smack his leg. ”Move.” He drew his legs up instantly, watching the other with a curious expression. The homeowner flopped onto the couch, tired eyes aimed at the ceiling. Okay. Now what? He supposed this would be more entertaining if he had brought something for himself to read as well but he was honestly out right now. He glanced at the visitor, curious to what could be keeping his attention. It looked like a piece of mail, logo unfamiliar on the envelope. “Uh, what are you reading?” ”A credit card offer.” He blinked in confusion. ”Why?” The pale man lowered the papers with a huff. ”Because I’m horrendously bored. Don’t apply for this one, the rates are terrible.” He fought back a laugh, the response had been unexpected. ”I’m not planning on it, don’t worry.” The visitor plopped the papers on the coffee table and leaned closer. ”So, does the tiny human still think I’m going to snatch her up and feed her to my ‘visitor queen’?”
”She’s coming around I think, but she doesn’t trust you. I’m hoping she doesn’t leave tomorrow.” The visitor tilted his head with a frown. ”Why?” He let out a soft sigh through his nose. ”I feel like if she left now, I’d never see her again. With everything she’s been through… I can understand why. Her folks weren’t great and she had some run-ins with creeps during the cataclysm, so she’s got a skewed view regarding adults. She doesn’t trust them. I just don’t want her to see me as another lying adult. Margo’s a good kid, she deserves better.” The pale man eyed him, slowly interlacing his long fingers. ”It was rash of you to invite her here. Had you asked me beforehand I would have told you this would happen. I used to listen to you two after my visits. And I know she saw me from the windows. Did you believe she wouldn’t recognize me?” He fought the urge to get defensive, instead closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. ”Yeah I know, I wasn’t thinking at all. I forgot to tell her about you just as well as it slipped my mind to ask you about her visit.” He finally lowered his head, locking eyes with the pale man who looked… disappointed? He blinked a few times in confusion. The visitor turned away, a sour expression pinching his features. ”How sweet.” For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why the visitor was acting this way. Then it dawned on him. Oh. He thought the homeowner still didn’t view them as equals, the same reason for their earlier argument. ”Hey,” he kicked his leg to get his attention. Those dark eyes met his own, lacking their usual liveliness. God, how was it that just a look from the other man could fuck up his heart rate? “Sorry. I’m not used to living with someone like this, it’s been a long time. I know it feels like I’m making decisions without you, but it’s only because I’m used to doing everything on my own. Even when there were others, I’ve always been shitty at talking to people. I’m trying to do better. I promise I’m not doing this on purpose.” He grimaced before adding, “I’m probably going to fuck up again, please bear with me.” For a few moments the office was silent besides the quiet ticking of the clock on the bookshelf. As much as he struggled with eye contact, he made damn sure to maintain it now with the pale man. The last thing he wanted was a falling out between them. The visitor’s expression softened, slowly unfolding his arms. ”I think I understand…I’ve lived on my own since I entered adulthood. Even if I was… human, living like this is new to me as well.” This was unexpected to the homeowner. When did he remember that? How much more was he keeping locked up in that cryptic mind of his. Could he remember where he used to live, where he grew up, what his name used to be? He couldn’t help asking, he was more invested than he’d care to admit about anything having to do with the pale man’s past.
”Really? You’ve always lived alone, never with another person? Not even like a friend, cousin or—“ His voice died around the word ‘girlfriend’, as if he only now considered the other man could prefer the opposite sex. That was the expected norm, same sex attraction was not acceptable to most people here. For some reason the thought alone crushed him, forcing him to acknowledge that this attraction could be one sided on his part. “—significant other?” He hated how he mumbled the last part, feeling like he just gave himself away. He tried to ignore how the pale man was looking at him, calculating gaze scanning over him slowly. ”No. I once lived with my mother. I spent the rest of my life in solitude.” Pain flickered in his expression, so severe the homeowner almost jumped up to make sure he was okay. But the man recovered as quickly as the reaction occurred, schooling his face into something neutral once more. Though his eyes still bore an unbearable sorrow. “But I did have a dog, she was my only companion.” He had mentioned the dog before, after the body eater was killed. That night he had mentioned that a stray had helped him remember his old pet, and the death of that stray had driven him to the point of losing control. The visitor must have cared for the animal deeply. ”What was her name?” The hopeless look in the other’s eyes told him he couldn’t remember. He held up a hand in reassurance. “That’s okay, you don’t have to explain. Can you tell me about her instead?” The other man had a far off look in his eyes, a bittersweet smile playing at his lips. ”She was amazing. Fiercely loyal in every way. I used to take her for walks through the city, it was part of our routine. She’d march along, head held high as other humans tried to talk to her or reach out to stroke her fur. But she would ignore them, only interested in continuing along her journey through town. People used to find it so odd how aloof she was, but I loved it. She only showed her true personality around me.” The homeowner couldn’t help but stare, he had never seen the visitor look so soft. It made something in his chest hurt. ”She never barked out of turn, only if given a good reason. One night someone tried to break in, but the fool ran once he heard her behind the door.” The visitor paused, his eyes widening as if he remembered something new. “Sometimes she’d sing for me.” “Oh yeah?” The homeowner had settled further on the couch, chin propped on his hand as he listened. “How’d she do that?” The visitor lifted his hands, fingers moving across an imaginary keyboard. ”I used to play for her, she’d howl along to the piano.” He lifted his head, arching a brow. ”I thought you stopped playing?” The visitor tapped a finger across the couch cushion in thought. ”Professionally, I did. I remember I was forced to stop because of someone, or perhaps something they did. I can’t seem to grasp the reason yet. But I do remember playing every so often for myself. I had an old church piano, one that had seen better days. Warped by water damage and sticky keys, but it was all I could afford.” The image of the pale man seated in front of a piano flitted through his mind once more, though instead of a tailored suit he
imagined a homely room, well loved furniture and modest clothes as a happy dog sang along to the piano’s melody. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the fantasy. He’d give anything to hear him play again. ”She sounds wonderful.” He found he really meant it, despite never once having the desire to willingly hang around a dog. The visitor closed his eyes. ”She was.” The clock chiming startled the homeowner, realizing just how late it was. ”It’s late. I probably should set up the sleeper sofa.” The pale man stared at the homeowner. ”…The what?” He blinked and pointed at the living room. ”You know. The spare bed in the living room.” The pale man slowly stood up, the homeowner forced to crane his neck up as the man looked down at him, a dark look burning in his eyes. ”Are you saying. That this entire time. There has been another bed in this house, and you have been letting me sleep on this couch?” Oh shit. He hadn’t thought to offer it to him. Judging by how intensely the man was looking at him right now, he should have. *** The pale man was currently glaring down at the queen sized mattress that the homeowner had unfolded from the living room sofa. The homeowner felt guilty, yet still tried to justify it. ”You went straight to the office! I thought you knew!” ”I had never been inside your house before, how would I know you had a second bed?” ”I thought you were watching the house! You said you were listening to us through the walls!” ”None of you casually mentioned sleeping arrangements!” ”Well where else do you think I slept as a kid? This was my room, did you think I slept on the floor?” ”Yes!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up exasperated. “Or he kept you locked in the basement. From what stories you’ve shared already about your father, it seems highly in character.” With a sigh he grabbed the sheets, trying to get started on making the bed. ”I’m sorry, I didn’t think to offer it. I really thought you preferred the office.” He tucked the last corner of the bed sheet, smoothing out any wrinkles as he went. The homeowner was leaning over the mattress when suddenly he froze, hot breath fanning across his cheek as the visitor moved in close over his shoulder.
”Misha,” he growled, frustration and anger bleeding into his tone. The homeowner shuddered, unable to move away from the pale man. He had bracketed him in place with his arms, the homeowner’s back flush against his chest and pale fingers gripping the sheets below. “Have you ever tried sleeping on that couch?” The visitor pushed closer when he hesitated, causing the man to squirm. He was practically bent over the bed. ”N-no, I haven’t.“ “Then it looks like you’ll find out tonight.” The visitor pulled away, the homeowner remained in place in shock. He whirled around to face him, meeting the wicked grin of the visitor with baffled fury. ”What the hell are you talking about?” The pale man was already climbing onto the sleeper sofa, claiming it as his own. ”I’ll be taking what should have been mine from the start. You can sleep in the office since you believe it is so comfortable.” His mouth fell open, unable to process what had just happened. ”This used to be my bed, you can’t just—“ ”And now it’s mine.” He sprawled out and tucked his hands behind his head, a smirk still painted across his lips. “You know, this really is a fair trade. I will graciously consider this exchange an apology from you to me since you keep forgetting I also live here and would like to be informed of things like when guests are coming over or if there are spare beds available.” The serious stare the visitor leveled him at the end made him turn his head, knowing that he was kind of right. He clenched his jaw, his nails digging into the palm of his hands. The bastard had a point, he really was doing a piss poor job of keeping him in the loop. Oh but he hated the idea of backing down from a challenge. The homeowner swallowed his pride and gave the sleeper sofa one last wistful glance before giving the pale man a jerky nod. ”Fine. Goodnight.” He turned and marched towards the office door, determined to prove that ‘yes, he could have a good night’s sleep on the office couch’ and that the visitor was being a melodramatic primadona. He was so focused on this thoughts that he missed how the pale man watched him leave, a profound longing in those eyes. *** “Shit! Ow, God dammit.” He was clutching his lower back in pain, the couch having wrecked his spine in the night. The homeowner hadn’t slept a wink, despite downing a beer to try and knock himself out. That was one of the most uncomfortable experiences in his life, now understanding why the visitor had been so pissed at seeing the sleeper sofa. Were the cushions stuffed with rocks? The padding was sunk in some places, while too firm in others. It was impossible to find a comfortable position. He was half tempted to burn that fucking couch.
When he looked over to see the visitor staring knowingly at him, looking the most well rested he’d ever seen him, he almost lobbed his coffee mug at his head. Instead he let the man sidle next to him, the pale man reaching for his own coffee mug while the homeowner continued working on breakfast. He hoped that the puffy bags under his eyes weren’t too obvious. ”Soooooo,” the visitor drew out the word with a smile, leaning on the counter to watch him better. He tried to ignore him, keeping his eyes on the skillet instead. “Did you sleep well Misha?” His grin widened when the homeowner shot him a tired glare. “Was it comfortable?” He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. ”No. You were right. I hate that fucking couch.” The pale man pushed away from the counter with a laugh, the delighted twinkle in his eye made the homeowner glance away, fighting the urge to return the gesture. He was cute. Even when he was a gloating shithead. He didn’t even flinch when he felt the pale man looking over his shoulder, so used to him pestering him as he cooked. He could feel the warmth of the other behind him, the visitor giving him hardly any space to work with. Without looking behind him he shooed the visitor away, needing to grab a few plates. ”Stop making trouble and sit down.” By the time he finished breakfast the visitor had taken a seat, giving the homeowner a knowing look when he caught him wincing and rubbing his back. “Oh fuck off,” he grumbled. He looked up when the kitchen door slowly pushed open, the teen peeking around the corner with the cat draped across her arms. She looked exhausted too, red rimmed eyes and unruly curls knotted every which way. ”Morning. Sleep well?” She crinkled a freckled nose, as if the answer was obvious. ”Not now, old man. I came here to ask my first question. You.” She pointed at the visitor, eyes narrowed and serious. The pale man sipped on his coffee and smiled politely. ”Yes?” ”What’s your name?” The visitor’s face lit up while the homeowner groaned. ”Mikhail.” ”It’s not. He’s a goddamn liar.” The girl looked like she had caught the homeowner in a lie of his own. ”Last night you said he doesn’t lie. That he’s ‘one of the most honest men you’ve ever known’.” She said the last part in a poor imitation of his own voice. He flushed, the visitor grinning openly at this. ”Oh how sweet Misha. Do you talk about me often?” ”Shut up!” He snapped. “Okay, he usually doesn’t lie. This is the one thing he does.” The visitor took another sip from his coffee. ”It isn’t a lie if I can’t remember it. My name could be Mikhail. You don’t know.”
”Yeah and you don’t know either so stop saying it.” Guess a peaceful morning was too much to ask for in this house. *** To the homeowner’s relief Margo chose to stay, though she kept her guard up around the visitor. The first half of the day was spent catching up on chores, the teen reluctantly starting on her homework. Late afternoon she began pestering the hermit. ”I’m bored!” He was currently scrubbing the bathtub, already sore back complaining even worse due to the awkward angle. ”I told your guardian you would be. I’m a boring man.” She groaned and flopped against the washing machine. She was wearing her ball cap again, a sports jersey thrown over her long sleeve sweater. ”Can’t we play a game or something? Or watch a movie? I brought some with me.” He straightened up, wincing as his back popped. Earlier she had tried to talk him into reading a novel series called Lady Katina, she was insistent in getting him to try it. He wondered if it was because she had no one to share her love for it with. ”You can. I have too much to do.” The teen rolled her eyes. ”Liar. You’re literally unemployed, where do you have to be?” He choked, practically coughing up a lung at her words. She was awfully free with her words… ”There’s still housework to do.” ”Yeah? And you can do it later! Or you can get your lazy freeloading visitor to do it.” He could hear the pale man crack up from his spot by the fire. The homeowner frowned. He really should make the visitor help with more chores. The girl jumped up, eyes bright. “Wait! I brought my baseball stuff.” The girl clasped her hands together, pleading frantically with the homeowner. “Please please pleeeease Mikhail? Just take a little break? I’ve been practicing my swing for months, betcha I can knock one aaaaall the way past the neighbor’s house.” The homeowner rinsed his hands off in the sink and considered it. Well, he kind of owed her didn’t he? Since he forgot to mention the visitor and everything. ”Okay. Just for a little bit.” She whooped and ran to the bedroom to grab her things. Once outside he had slightly regretted agreeing to this. It was pretty cold out today, some snow still lingering from earlier in the week. The rest of the yard was a sloppy blend of mud and leaves which he was kicking himself for not picking up earlier. So he was probably going to slip and break his neck out here. The teen however was thrilled, bat proudly propped over her shoulder, ball in hand. The only thing that seemed to make her bristle was that the pale man had come out to watch, too curious to stay inside. He could tell his presence unnerved her, the teen kept glancing at the visitor when she thought he wasn’t looking.
”Okay old man! Watch this!” She assumed a batting stance and tossed the ball in the air, eyes focused on her target. With a deafening crack she made contact, the ball whizzing past at breakneck speed. It was impressive. He was just about to tell her as much when she yelled, “What was that! Jeez, that sucked. I can do better, lemme go again.” She ran off to collect the ball, returning red faced and huffing. The homeowner tried to reassure her, noticing the crinkle in her brow. ”I thought it was a solid hit.” ”Then you must’ve not played baseball before,” she quipped. The visitor snickered from where he was standing. He shot him a glare. The teen took her stance again, determination etched across her face. This time she hit the ball even further, going far beyond what he had thought possible. Still she wasn’t satisfied. ”Come on! The hell?” ”I’ll get it.” The homeowner was shocked when the visitor offered, already walking down to the field. The teen seemed surprised as well. The pale man threw the ball across the yard, landing near the girl’s feet. Despite her sour expression she muttered a thank you anyway. She stared at the ball for a moment before offering it to the homeowner. ”Can you pitch it to me? Maybe that’s the problem.” He took the ball reluctantly. ”I can’t promise I’ll be any good.” The teen rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was messing with him. ”Oh come on old man, just throw the ball! It’ll be fine.” He rolled his shoulders and took aim. Impressively, the girl not only made contact, but threw her entire weight into the swing, resulting in the ball launching at lightning speed. It was a marvel to watch, he truly believed Margo could have a future in baseball if she was already performing this well. Then the ball found its target: right in the center of the visitor’s chest. He toppled over instantly, both the girl and homeowner crying out in surprise. The humans rushed to where he was laying in the snow, a dazed look on his face. The teen was looking down at him in horror. ”Dude are you okay?” The visitor let out a pathetic wheeze and gave a shaky thumbs up. The girl looked over at him, a question in her eyes. “Old man, are you sure this is the same guy?” She whispered as if the visitor wasn’t lying right there. ”Yeah.” She grimaced and looked back down at the pale man who was finally able to suck in a breath of air again. “Then why is he like… lame now?” The homeowner gave her an admonishing look. “Be nice.” He patted the visitor on the shoulder and offered him a hand, the visitor letting him pull him up while unsteady on his feet. “Alright?” The man asked, hand still holding the other’s arm in case he needed it. The teen chewed at her bottom lip, watching their exchange. ”Dude. Weak.”
*** Oddly enough the baseball disaster warmed the teen up to enduring the visitor’s presence, claiming that since he wiped out that hard he lost all of his ‘aura points’. He didn’t understand what that meant. She had willingly worked on her homework on the office coffee table while the visitor sat only a few feet away; he hoped this was the beginning of their relationship improving. Night two on the couch had been a disaster, he wasn’t sure he could endure another night. This was partially his own fault, the pale man had actually offered to share the sleeper sofa with him, feeling like he had learned his lesson. ”Since I’m such a generous soul,” he had joked, which had earned him a look. “You are free to stay here tonight.” But the thought of sleeping with the pale man had made him panic before truly considering it. He wasn’t opposed to being so close to the visitor. No, it was how enthusiastically his body had reacted to even the thought of sharing the bed, images of the other wrapping his arms around him as he had before slipping into his mind. But those thoughts had quickly taken a suggestive turn which had him blurting out, ”Nothankyou!” Now he wished he could change his answer. He sighed, resting his head back against his armchair. He was so furious at that stupid sofa he was staying as far away from it as possible. Currently the pair of them were winding down for the evening, the pale man was reading on the couch while he was moping in his chair, the cat nestled across his lap. It couldn’t recline and the cushions were threadbare but still he was considering staying here for the night. Could he sleep better in the armchair? He was startled out of his thoughts when the door slammed open. The teen, red faced and fuming, burst into the room. ”You!” She pointed at the visitor, eyes wild and threatening. “You went through my shit, didn’t you?” The pale man cocked his head in confusion. ”What are you—“ ”Don’t play stupid! My bag,” she pointed at the backpack in her hand, the same one that had been thrown on the coffee table earlier. “You went through my bag! I’m missing one of my Lady Katina books and I know it was in here before.” The visitor relaxed and went back to reading, unbothered by her behavior. ”No, I did not go through your bag.” She opened her mouth, already drawing herself to her full height, which was not all that impressive next to the pale man, when he added. “You left the book on the table.” He closed the novel in his hands and lifted it up for her to see, the cover showcasing a sorrowful knight in gleaming black armor. Her mouth fell open. ”Y-you read it?” She looked both embarrassed and fuming, small fists clenched at her sides. “You had no right, that book didn't belong to you, you shouldn’t have touched it—“ The
homeowner sat forward, worried that he should step in. The visitor lifted his hands in surrender looking quite frustrated himself. ”Alright alright. You can cease your tirade, tiny human. I was merely bored and picked it up. At least it was an entertaining read despite the infuriating suitors that continuously ruined any modicum of solace for the heroine.” The teen stood still for a moment. ”Oh yeah?” She narrowed her eyes. “Any other thoughts?” The pale man slid the book back onto the coffee table before getting more comfortable on the couch, propping his head up on his palm. ”She shouldn’t choose any of them. Each man was more insufferable than the last. If I were Kati,” he gestured to himself dramatically. “I would flee and roam the countryside alone.” The girl stood there, jaw working silently. He worried that the visitor’s blunt views of the character’s offended the girl, clearly she was very attached to the series. But to his surprise she stepped further into the room, settling on the floor by the coffee table. ”Oh yeah? Well just wait until you read book two, Kati does run away.” The homeowner wondered if he had accidentally fallen asleep and was dreaming. For the first time, the teen and visitor were having a civil conversation with each other. And Margo seemed to be enjoying it. ”Edric was just the worst, wasn’t he?” The pale man nodded. ”Pig headed and dull.” Watching the two get along broke something in him, an overwhelming warmth and fondness bubbling up so strongly it almost felt as though he were melting. He watched them rant with a smile, feeling as if finally things were starting to look up. *** The armchair wasn’t any better. He was staring up at the ceiling, wishing that he had choked down his feelings so he could enjoy one restful night's sleep. Yes the visitor was clingy in his sleep, the two times they had shared the same sleeping arrangements he had awoken to the other practically wrapped around him. And it wasn’t even like he had hated the feeling, now that the shame had eased he found himself day dreaming of returning to that embrace more and more. He had never been held like that before. Vera had been very adverse to cuddling at night. ”Listen,” she had said once, laughing at his pouting face. “I love you, but you are like sleeping with a furnace. You are way too hot, stay over there!” She had drawn an imaginary line in the bed, a lightheartedness in the gesture that communicated that this was not out of malice, but comfort. Still, being young and defiant he had responded with, ”Just say you hate me.” They had laughed about that night for years to come. He felt that familiar twinge of guilt when he thought of Vera and the pale man. No one could replace her. But maybe Luka was right, you could love again even after such heartbreak.
The homeowner shook his head. No no no he did not love the visitor. There was attraction, yes, though this was too soon to be called love. But the affection he felt when he thought of the other was growing more and more difficult to ignore. The urge to get up and see if he would be welcomed into that bed was so strong. He spent half of the night wasting away in that armchair, he might as well go to the bathroom. He shuffled out of the room, three days without sleep was making it oh so difficult to concentrate. On his way back he looked forlornly at the living room door, wishing he could muster up the courage to open the door. He was convinced by now that the visitor would welcome him in. Did the visitor feel as drawn to him as he did? Because right now there was no place he’d rather be than nestled by his side right now. The homeowner had just taken a step towards the office when the living room door opened, the man in question peering down at him. He stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights. The visitor’s eyes raked over the hermit, despite being pitch black in the house he got the feeling that the pale man could see him just fine. ”Having trouble sleeping?” The homeowner tried to stop himself from shuddering, sleep had made the visitor’s voice rough and gravelly. He didn’t respond, exhaustion made him dumb and sluggish. The pale man looked him over once more before opening the door wider. “Misha. Come to bed.” It sounded like an order. His feet were moving before he could really process it. The door closed behind him, the room plunging into pure darkness and leaving him blind. But he wasn’t alone, a hand pressed against the small of his back, guiding him to the edge of the bed. When he felt the mattress below him he nearly cried in relief, the comforting feeling of returning to something familiar. Tucked in and lying on his side, he could already feel himself slipping away. He felt the bed dip as the visitor joined him and for a moment there was no further movement. Then there was heat at his back, arms slowly pulling him close, as if unsure if he would allow it. He couldn’t fight it anymore, a sigh escaping him and he pressed back into that wonderful embrace, the other’s grip on him tightening at the sound. That strange yet charming rumbling was back, yet he didn’t complain. The sound lulled him into the most restful sleep he could ever remember. *** The visitor was actually willingly spending time with the tiny human. She could be quite entertaining and had even offered to share her Lady Katina book series with him. He had already finished the second and third book, having been so long without anything new to read he was a little over eager to finally enjoy something new. It was early morning, the human had climbed up the hill this morning to enjoy his coffee. He didn’t bother him, he knew the grave was a sore spot for the human. He had been visiting the site more and more as of late, sometimes the visitor could make out the sound of the human talking. He hoped that in time the human would share who this person was with him. He wanted to know everything about him. Margo had been hesitant to hand him book four, an odd look in her eyes. When he had quirked a brow she had just grimaced.
”You’ll see.” He shrugged and started to read, sipping on his coffee from his nondominant hand. Lately his right hand had been giving him trouble, a dull ache flaring up suddenly during certain movements. But then it would disappear, as if the pain never existed. He probably hurt it somehow, but for the life of him he couldn’t place a particular incident. He might have gone overboard splitting wood, but the look on the human’s face had been intoxicating. Or he could have pulled something when the girl slammed the baseball into his ribs. He also lifted up the couch earlier, the girl had lost her ‘tamagotchi’ gadget and couldn’t reach it. He didn’t understand anything she was talking about when she showed him the keychain, an odd creature displayed on the screen. The injury could have been anything. The only sounds for a while were the scratchings of the girl’s writing, dutifully working on her assignments. In the story Lady Katina had run away from her cold and unloving parents to become a knight, slaying trolls, giants, and even dragons in her travels. She raised her sword for the people, expecting nothing in return and therefore was loved by many. But a man was following her, causing problems each step of the way. He was being paid to capture her, return her to her parents so they could force her into a marriage with a nobleman that would benefit them financially. In every book he had been the antagonist, drawing blood, pain, and fury from Kati. He himself was an enigma, he followed his orders and spoke little. The teen hated Rurik, the hunter. She had been so furious when Kati had spared him in book three when he was beaten and bloody, her sword aimed at his throat. ”She should have ended him right there! He’s only ever caused her pain and suffering.” He stayed quiet, finding that he actually agreed with a lot Rurik’s views on humanity. People weren’t worth caring about. But as he continued reading, he began to realize something about the characters. Rurik wasn’t trying as hard as he used to, no longer using dangerous and drastic measures. The hunter was also hesitating, he nearly had her but fumbled it at the end over one glare from the maiden. The pale man already saw where this was going. He was failing to capture her due to his growing feelings for her. The visitor rolled his eyes internally yet kept reading. Then the book did something it had never done before. It changed perspectives. He was reading Rurik’s side of the story. A peasant boy who had lost his family to the plague, he was forced to become a mercenary for hire or starve on the streets. He hated people, talked little to others. He had witnessed unfathomable cruelty and violence, his own hands were stained with blood. When he was sent to capture Lady Katina he did not care for her, he was motivated purely by the gold lining his pockets. But it was after countless battles and clashing of blades that something changed. The lady knight had no equal, strength and wit unmatched. He began to look forward to their skirmishes, the only person he’d dare to banter with. The pale man was reminded of his visits to the door, how much he looked forward to them. The human was never surprised to see him, tongue sharp and defenses at the ready. For every insult and demoralizing jab he threw his way the human had returned with barbed quips of his own. He had loved it, feeling as though he had finally found a kindred soul.
But Rurik had changed after book three. In his eyes, Kati had done something so unexpected and so unbelievable that he questioned his views. Kati had spared him, despite everything he had done. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, feeling drawn to her even when they were apart. Rurik was well aware that she hated him and accepted this. Instead he helped her from the sidelines. He killed an assassin that was after her and stopped a fiery monster from attacking the village she was staying in, despite being severely burned himself from the beast. The pale man shifted, uneasy. These feelings Rurik described were sounding awfully familiar. The obsessiveness, the insatiable desire to keep her safe, the pining. No, his feelings were different from this. He just enjoyed the companionship of the human. Sure he was agitated when they were apart, but that was to be expected right? Spending all this time together, it made one antsy to change up routine. Visitors weren’t usually solitary creatures, many ran together in packs. The human was the only one he considered worthy of joining his side. Naturally that would make him protective of him. And want to help him… And… hold… him? The visitor was sweating, eyes starting to unfocus from the pages in front of him. No. This is just a dumb children’s book, any correlations to his own life were purely coincidental. He forced himself to keep reading, purely out of spite. Rurik felt inhuman, that he could never be deserving of her company. His past was drenched in blood, murder, and filth. How could he ever explain that away? But he cared for Kati. His loyalty was unwavering, he could not be tempted or swayed from her side. He gritted his teeth. Yet another similarity between him and this foolish character. Rurik marched on, enduring every punch, every insult, and even taking an arrow for her; subjecting himself to pain so grueling until his body was too broken and could no longer continue to stand. She had been angry at him over this, yelling at how he must think so lowly of her to need his protection. As he lay there bleeding in the grass, gazing up at her as if she herself had hung the moon and stars, he had told her, ”No, I have never met a man or woman as strong as you. Forgive me, I only wish to be by your side. I know you must find me repulsive.” Kati did not find him repulsive. In fact quite the opposite. She kissed him. The pale man lowered the book, a deep frown etched across his face. He was a monster. Shaped and created with the sole purpose to destroy, mangle, and slaughter. He could not ‘love’ in a romantic sense, he was simply a pawn without a purpose. He could dress in human clothes, live among mankind and imitate their ways but that did not change what he was. This was all temporary, a distraction until the inevitable fall of humanity. His human was just— He stopped, heart dropping in his chest. He couldn’t even finish that thought because it wasn’t true. Misha meant everything to him. The visitor felt his chest contract painfully, images of the human coming to mind. This pull he felt, this craving to intertwine himself thoroughly in Misha’s life. It wasn’t normal, was it?
There was a brief time where the pale man accompanied another visitor, one that had been horrendously annoying yet somehow amused him. He sought her company despite the awful creature she kept cradled in her arms; now he was forced to live with the very same animal. The cat lady had been the closest he ever got to accepting another visitor willingly into his territory. He had been fond of her, did he feel the same way for her as he did Misha? He recoiled even at the thought. There was no denying it. He felt something for the human. Something warm, comforting, tender. Three things he shouldn’t be capable of. His desire for the human, how far did it go? The visitor forced himself to stop and consider it. He enjoyed his companionship, felt protective of him, craved a closeness that was only quelled by touch. When he held him last night it was like finally finding peace, all worries and discomfort fading away. He wanted him to himself, jealous of anyone else that drew his attention. Were these feelings… romantic? He tried to imagine a situation where the human kissed him. What came forth was definitely inspired by the novel. He was hurt, perhaps from protecting the human. The human would be furious with him, but then he’d say something charming and his lips would be on his, insistent and firm. Oh. He wanted that, his breathing labored just imagining it. The visitor was so screwed. He may have been clueless about a lot of things in regards to humans and their customs, but he remembered how poorly they viewed two men being together. Some part of him remembered finding out the hard way when he was young. Memories of a door closing in front of him, all his belongings scattered in the snow. The lock clicked shut and from then on he was no longer welcome in the only place he had ever called home. ”You read it didn’t you?” He looked down at the teen, having forgotten where he was. “I can tell by your face.” The girl assumed he looked lost and confused over what he had read, not knowing the other’s inner turmoil. She sighed and rested her chin on her palm. “I hate it when they add a love story. Kati was fine by herself.” She sounded gloomy, a dour look aimed at the coffee table. The visitor cocked his head in confusion. He thought young girls adored love stories. ”Why?” ”Cuz it’s so fake,” she spat. “In the real world the people that tell you that they love you only end up hurting you. My parents used to tell me they loved me. One used to ignore my existence, and the other beat the shit outta me. Used me as a personal punching bag. They even claimed to love each other but what were they doing? Throwing punches, breaking dishes, screaming all hours of the night. Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need any of that ‘love’.” The visitor understood her sentiments. He too was not impressed with other humans and their actions. But he remained silent, his earlier revelations still weighing heavy on his mind. The teen despite the severity of her words earlier seemed bothered, tapping her pencil eraser against the table anxiously. The visitor watched her, mannerisms far different than usual.
”I just don’t understand.” Her voice was quiet, withdrawn. “Why did she forgive him after all he’s done?” It took him a moment to connect why she was so upset, but he realized that the spark in her eyes when she talked about Kati was idolization. The girl looked up to Kati and must have connected to the character on a personal level. Both had been abused by their families, ran away from home to gain independence, and were distrustful by nature due to past experiences. She felt betrayed that the character would do something so egregious as falling in ‘love’, the ultimate form of vulnerability. The pale man tapped his fingers against the book cover, choosing his words carefully. ”She realized how similar they were.” The teen looked up, brows drawn together. ”How are they similar?” ”They are both trapped in roles pushed onto them. Kati a noblewoman and Rurik a mercenary. Kati was able to escape her prison, but Rurik can never be free while he’s under oath. They both didn’t believe in love before meeting each other. Both of them felt like they were broken beyond repair, inhuman and isolated from society. And even as enemies she felt like he was the only one who saw her as an equal." The girl blinked slowly. ”I never thought of it like that…” She tapped at the table in thought for a long time. The visitor could hear the human returning to the house, his boots crunching loudly in the snow. “Do you think…” She stopped herself, turning away from the pale man suddenly. “No, it’s stupid. Forget it.” He had a feeling it wasn’t stupid. ”What is it? Tell me.” She picked at her colorful nails, eyes downcast. The teen sighed and fixed him with a somber look. ”I know my folks were shitty. But they’re all I’ve ever known.” She drew in a shaky breath and asked, her voice impossibly tiny for one so typically confident, “Have you ever been in love?” If she had asked even a day before his answer would have been no. But now he was pretty sure that these feelings were the only source of light in his life that was keeping him going. ”Yes.” The teen seemed to pick up the longing in his voice, sitting up straighter. ”Really? Who was it? Someone you knew before the cataclysm?” At that moment the homeowner walked in. When his eyes met the humans the pain in his chest became unbearable, a hopeless longing making it difficult to breathe. This was as close as they were going to get. The chances of the human ever returning these feelings were nearly impossible. Not only was he the wrong gender, but he wasn’t even human. It hurt knowing that even if he hadn’t been infected he still wouldn’t have had a shot with him. He regretted uncovering these feelings, missing how content he was before. He missed him, but how could you miss someone when they were right in front of you? The girl gasped suddenly, pointing at the visitor in shock. ”Holy. Shit. Seriously?” The pale man shot her a vicious glare, panic nearly driving him into jumping off the couch to silence her. But she didn’t say anything else, her eyes glazing over. “That explains so much.”
”Explains what?” The human asked. Two voices fired back in sync. ”Nothing!” The human blinked in confusion, especially when the pale man pushed past looking as red as a tomato. The visitor was too worked up right now, he needed to go cool off for a while. *** “This is so ass.” The pale man sniffled in agreement, face slowly going numb in the freezing winds. The teen was standing by his side, bundled in a collection of colorful mismatched clothes. “So does Mikhail have secret meetings with Luka often?” ”They are a recent development, yes.” He couldn’t keep the dissatisfaction out of his tone. The girl arched an eyebrow. ”Why couldn’t we come too? He’s making us do his dirty work!” By dirty work she meant grocery shopping. The list was clutched in the girl’s hand while the ration card safely tucked into the pale man’s pocket. This had been intentional, the homeowner had knelt to be eye level with her when he bestowed the list, face grim. ”Don’t let him buy a bunch of weird shit. He will try, you have to stop him.” He had been both amused and insulted. The visitor looked off in the direction the human had disappeared, the road led deeper into the city. He already missed the other’s presence, his stomach churning at the thought of being left behind. And then there was his jealousy, a possessiveness that he fought hard to choke down. Even now all he wanted to do was tear down that street and search the entire city until he found his human. A nagging voice whispered in his head, ’He’s not yours. There is no happy ending for you, remember?’ He clenched his teeth so hard it hurt. There was so much that he could deal with, but losing the human was not one of them. The prophet was wrong, he wouldn’t fall victim to his delusions. The human may not be his, but he’d give him everything if he asked. ”Come on weirdo, let’s get this over with.” The girl started towards the store, leaving the visitor behind. He reluctantly followed after her. Inside it was pretty slow, only a few shoppers milling around. The teen had already procured a cart and was haphazardly riding it down the aisles, kicking one leg out behind her to gain momentum. The visitor hung back, too caught up in his thoughts to pay attention right now. Why was the human spending so much time with Luka? And why was he so insistent about going alone… He furrowed his brow. They hadn’t talked about the first visit, the visitor had avoided bringing it up since the human had seemed so out of sorts at the time. But he had been perfectly calm today, behaving normally even up to his departure. A whine died in his throat. He had no right to feel this way, the human should be allowed to visit whoever he wanted. Still, it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.
”Yo! Earth to PB!” He looked up, the teen watching him unimpressed. He tilted his head. ”PB?” The girl smirked. ”Stands for ‘pale bastard’. Heard the old man call you that the other day.” Well she wasn’t wrong. She gently pushed the cart into the visitor’s side. “Stop being all mopey and weird. It’s kinda pathetic.” He stared down at the tiny human. She was quite bold for someone so small. Despite the harshness in her words she did lean closer and add, “Hey, if you’re worried about Luka you don’t have to be. Mikhail doesn’t like him like that. Pretty sure Luka likes someone else, never shuts up about him. So like, chin up, okay?” How cute. The girl was trying to be his personal motivational speaker. Didn’t change the fact that the homeowner probably didn’t fancy men. His misery must have still been evident on his face. The teen huffed and wheeled the cart around him, nearly running over his feet as she went. The visitor forced himself to shuffle after her. The longer he stayed here the more empty he felt, slipping into a state of numbness. He was no longer aware of his surroundings, all noise around him fading away. Was he in danger of losing the homeowner? He had been so sure the human had felt it too, the ever present pull to be near the other. Last night the human had joined him again, had let himself be held and even moved closer in the night. Waking up to find the human tucked into the crook on his neck had sent him into a euphoric state, pulling the human so snuggly against himself and never wanting to let go. But obviously he didn’t trust him, still kept him shut out. Like he was still waiting outside that damn door. The visitor realized he was alone in the middle of the store, slowly slinking off to find wherever the girl had run off to now. She was near the front, fiddling with the keychain game on her backpack. She peered up at him as he approached, sharp eyes taking in his weary features. “You know what, fiiiine. I know what’ll make you feel better. Come on.” She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him forward, zooming through the aisles. She stopped in front of a vast collection of random jars and cans. “Pick the most cursed thing you can find.” She shot him a grin. “Ten bucks if you can make Mikhail swear when he sees it.” He perked up, observing the jars with more attention. The visitor did enjoy getting a rise out of the human. “You will regret that wager. I am very good at making him angry.” Most of the selection was normal: pickled tomatoes, mushrooms, etc. He paused on a can with a bright red label. Picking it up he turned it over in his hands. Surströmming, fermented herring. Perfect. He smiled and placed the can in the girl’s waiting hand. She crinkled her nose and nodded. ”Dude. Nice.” As they were getting to the bottom of the list the teen started pressing him for stories about his stay with the human. ”Seriously?” She laughed. “You have a shirt that says that?”
”Yes, I have it tucked away. Misha threatened to destroy it if he ever found it.” The teen rolled her eyes and gestured to the pale man. ”He’s a liar, he’s just trying to stop you from embarrassing him in public. I think you should wear it. It would be mad funny.” As they were exiting the store, the visitor holding most of the groceries and the teen leading the way, she paused suddenly. He nearly ran into her, but stopped at the last moment. The teen was staring at something to her left, brows drawn together in thought. He turned and realized she was looking at a cork board, random fliers and posters smattered across the surface, most were faded and worn. The girl moved closer, slowly reaching out and touching one. Out of curiosity he stepped closer, wondering what could have caught her attention like this. She moved to the side to let him see better, insistently tapping a poster so tattered that most of the words had been long lost to the elements. ”PB look,” she hissed quietly, still motioning at the paper. “I think that’s… you?” He blinked at the face staring back at him. It was a missing persons poster. The man in the photo was pudgy but the hollow eyes staring back at him were undeniably his own. The visitor pulled the poster off the board and held it closer, hoping for a glimpse or hint from his past life to be hidden somewhere in the black and white photo. His name had been ripped off, having suffered too long under the harsh weather. Only the first letter was still legible: ‘B’. His name still eluded him, though faint traces of it danced at the edge of his mind. In the photo he was wearing an apron… no, that was his uniform. Yes, he remembered now. He worked nearly every day, even had a key to the building. The visitor looked closer. The logo on his apron matched the paper bags in his hands. This store had always seemed familiar, every time he stepped into it was as if his mind grew foggy. He jerked his head up and stared hard at the building, as if seeing it for the first time. There was no doubt about it. He had worked here. ”I worked here,” he told the girl. “I stocked the shelves.” She took the paper from his hands, a determined look in her eyes. ”Then someone here has to recognize you!” Before he could move she was rushing back in the store, the poster held tightly in her small hands. ”Excuse me, do you know him? He used to work here.” She was running between the cashiers, showing each of them the poster as she went. Each one shook their head, an apologetic look in their eyes. The teen was getting frustrated. “You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way none of you remember him!” A young man spoke up, fiddling with his name tag as he did. ”Actually we’re all new staff. There was an attack on the store during the cataclysm. Half of the building burned down, most of the offices and record rooms were destroyed. We were told some of the workers died, and the rest fled and never came back. I’m so sorry, I really wish I could help you.” The teen visibly deflated. He reached out and patted her shoulder, trying to comfort the girl the only way he knew how. She looked at him in surprise, poster still in hand.
“It’s okay. We’ll find out who I was eventually. Thank you.” She gave a jerky nod, he could tell she was still upset. He held his hand out and she gave the paper back, he tucked it safely into one of his pockets. As they walked the girl remained silent, stewing on something. Finally she spoke up. ”It’s just… Someone was looking for you. They cared about you enough to hang a poster. I really thought at least one person would know something.” He couldn’t think of a single person that would have gone looking for him. Was there anyone that would go through the effort? While he knew he had been raised by his mother, he doubted she would have been the one to hang the poster. He remembered growing up in a completely different city, and whenever a memory of his mother surfaced it was always tainted in resentment. He had a pretty strong suspicion that their relationship was strained. ”I can’t think of anyone.” ”Really? No family or friends?” He shook his head. “Well what about co-workers, did you get along with any of them?” He squinted in thought, trying to drag the memories out by force. He had hated that job, refusing to talk to most of his co-workers. But he could remember one he hadn’t minded. She had been peppy and annoying, but she looked out for him once. He couldn’t remember what she did but the feelings were still there. A sense of comradery. Still it was nothing more than that, she wouldn’t have gone through the effort to find him. ”No. I was alone.” The conversation stilled, the bus stop growing closer. It had been threatening to snow all day, grey overcast clouds blanketed the sky. He felt a small hand on his sleeve and looked down. The girl wasn’t looking at him, but her expression was one of understanding and sadness. “You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me and Mikhail now.” She was trying to comfort him. He glanced away, a lump in his throat. He was unsure of what to think of that. The homeowner was already at the bus stop, busy writing on something in his hands. The teen jogged up to him, punching him lightly in the side. The man groaned and shot her a warning look, her punches still hurt even when she held back. When the human caught the visitor’s eyes his face softened, those green eyes warm and comforting. All of those terrible feelings that weighed him down evaporated instantly, instead a steady warmth filled him to his core. The human was like sunshine, a shining light in his life that he couldn’t help but move closer too. He wanted to scoop him up and bury his face into his neck. Wanted to be reassured that they were okay, there was no need for secrecy or lies. He wanted that so bad, so very very bad… But he couldn’t. The human wasn’t his to hold. He stopped himself before he got too close, keeping a respectable distance. The human did not share those feelings, no matter how badly he yearned for it. He nearly winced, no one told him that caring for someone could hurt like this. The visitor swallowed his pain and told himself to just enjoy whatever the human gave him. Even if that meant he chose companionship with someone else. ***
“Whatcha working on?” The homeowner looked up from his spot at the kitchen table. ”I’m signing up for a newspaper subscription.” The teen plopped down at the table. ”Why? Thought you hated the news?” He hummed as he finished the application. ”I do. It’s for him.” He gestured towards the office. “He likes to read but I don’t have anything interesting here. Now he’ll have something every day.” He noticed the teen was giving him a strange look. “What?” ”Nothing.” The homeowner narrowed his eyes at her smug expression. She was definitely up to something. He set the pen down and crossed his arms. ”Okay. What’s with the look?” ”No it’s really nothing. It’s just…” She grinned. “You really like him don’t you?” He flushed, instinctively locking his jaw. Forcing the tension from his body he slowly relaxed. The teen just liked pushing his buttons. There was no way she knew anything. ”Quiet. I’m just trying to make things less boring around here.” The girl held up her hands. ”Hey now. No need to get defensive, old man. I like him too.” He froze, blinking in surprise. ”You do?” ”Yeah. He’s a weirdo but he’s fun. He’s pretty smart too. I like him much better when he’s not being brainwashed by the visitor queen.” ”I don’t know if he was being brainwashed—“ She shrugged. ”He seems so different. I think the queen controlled them like ants. You know, mind control shit.” ”Ants don’t use mind control.” She rolled her eyes. ”Yes they do, old man. How else do they always know what to do? It’s like a hive mind thing.” He felt like she had possibly spent too much time with the stoner. ”I think you need to lay off the Sci-fi movies.” She huffed and pushed away from the table, muttering a ‘whatever’ under her breath. Still the homeowner was pleased that the two were getting along now. He glanced down at the application. On the way back from his visit with Luka an ad for the paper had caught his eye. His thoughts had immediately gone to the other man, reaching for an application without a second thought. That was something else he had talked to Luka about. His thoughts were constantly revolving around the pale man. Things like ‘what is he up to right now?’, ‘I bet he would like this’, or ‘I have to show this to him’. Luka had told him this was normal and to not be afraid of indulging in those thoughts. And so he signed up for a newspaper.
They had discussed a lot today, the homeowner venting his frustrations and woes to the cheerful man. ”I still struggle with the guilt,” he stared down at the tea in his hands. “But I think it’s getting easier. Visiting Vera in the morning has helped somehow.” Luka nodded, green legs crossed over the other. ”You’re finally facing something you’ve been avoiding for a long time. This is part of healing, I’m proud of you Misha.” He gave a jerky nod, flustered by the other’s words. He didn’t think he was doing anything amazing, in fact he felt pretty shitty that he was only just now trying to untangle his grief properly. But he was trying, and that was better than nothing he told himself. Luka had mentioned before that he struggled with self-hatred, which was part of why he felt so lost in regards to affection and attraction. The cheerful man had advised the younger man to try and catch himself when he started a self destructive thought before it spiraled. He made no promises, but took his advice to heart anyways. Though he still found it embarrassing to be so open with another like this, he was grateful for the other man’s help. ”I don’t think he likes that I keep coming here, and I don’t think it’s because of you. He thinks I’m hiding something from him.” Luka set his cup down and tutted. ”No no no we definitely want to avoid that. Misunderstandings can lead to assumptions which then lead to division. How about this: let’s invite him to our next chat, okay? That way he can see what’s been going on and he can avoid feeling left out.” The homeowner blanched. ”But wait… We won’t still discuss my um, ‘feelings’ right?” Luka waved him off with a gentle laugh. ”No Misha, of course not! That’s something only you can tell him, and only when you are ready. We’ll just enjoy each other’s company and I myself am quite interested in getting to know your roommate better.” He promised to bring him by soon, even though the idea still unnerved him. “Yesenin can come too.” Luka looked surprised. ”Okay. Do you want him to know how you feel beforehand or…?” He faded off waiting for the other’s verdict. ”You can tell him. I don’t think I’m strong enough to.” While he knew that the tall man wouldn’t think any less of him he still didn’t think he could confess something like that to his friend, too afraid he couldn’t find the words or see something hurtful in the other’s reaction. He’d rather leave that to Luka. ”Alrighty, if that’s what you want. We’ll both be there then.” ***
It was the last night before the teen had to go back in the morning. They were settled in the office, the girl busy with her homework, the pale man mildly interested in her school books, and the homeowner seated beside him on the couch. She was currently working on a geography lesson, a map of Russia spread across the table. He was about to doze off when the pale man leaned forward, eyes alight as he tapped the map. ”Yes, I remember now. Here.” He leaned towards the homeowner, their shoulders brushing. He shivered. “This was my hometown. I grew up in Partizansk.” The teen yanked the papers closer, the homeowner scowling when he could no longer see the map himself. At least she had the decency to slide it his way once he cleared his throat. ”Here? But that’s so far away! No wonder you have no family, Partizansk is on the other side of the country.” She was right, it was on the complete opposite side of the map. He couldn’t imagine how long of a journey that must have been. “How in the world did you end up in Sebezh?” The homeowner glanced over at the visitor, curious himself. He was concentrating, his face creased as he tried to recall the memory. ”Forgive me, I am missing some details but I remember a fight between my mother and I. I can’t place what started it or where I had been, but I was inebriated and struggled to find my way home. I was too young to drink at the time, yet I managed to find a way out of defiance. My mother was a very strict and overbearing individual. To find me in that state was unforgivable in her eyes. Then she found out—“ The visitor froze, eyes darkening viciously. The homeowner was worried he was about to hurt himself, body so rigid he was sure to pull a muscle. He released a harsh breath through his nose. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I remember her throwing my belongings into the snow and refusing to let me inside the apartment. At that moment I hated her so much that I wanted to get as far away from her as possible. I’ve lived here ever since.” Both the homeowner and teen wore similar looks of understanding. So it looks like all three of them had “outstanding” parents. The teen was already nodding her approval. ”Fuck parents man. Who needs em.” He was more interested in the fact that he remembered his mother and what could have possibly happened between them to invoke such a reaction from the visitor. “Have you talked to her since?” The pale man leaned back, a grim look upon his face. ”No. I don’t believe I have. She doesn’t even know where I am.” He fought the urge to reach out to him, hand twitching uselessly at his side. Would it be wrong to tell him he was glad he moved here? Otherwise they would have never met. But moving here had caused him to lose his humanity, perhaps he would have avoided infection in Partizansk. Or he would have died, he thought darkly. He kept his mouth shut, morbid thoughts consuming his mind. ”Oh!” The girl slammed both of her hands on the table, eyes bright with excitement. “I completely forgot! Mikhail you won’t believe what we found at the super market. PB, show him the poster!” He looked over at the visitor in confusion.
”The poster?” He watched the pale man pull out a tattered piece of paper from his pocket, offering him the remains of the document. He was worried it would disintegrate in his sweaty hands, so careful to unfold the paper carefully. He blinked in astonishment at the man in the poster. Handsome, serious, hefty in a way that still portrayed power. He was looking at the pale man before he had been turned. So his eyes had always been that captivating, an intelligence hidden within his dark depths. The extra weight looked good on him, made him softer and more healthy in appearance. He traced a finger over the image, wishing that his name had somehow remained intact. ”Hellooooo! Earth to Mikhail? I’m trying to talk to you.” He quickly looked away from the photo, too flustered to notice the forlorn look the visitor was wearing. ”Sorry. Where’d you find this again?” The girl rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘hopeless’. ”As I was saying, PB remembered he used to work at the grocery store before the cataclysm. Someone hung this up outside on the bulletin board. ”Oh really?” He couldn’t help the excitement from this new revelation. Every memory shared was tucked away in his mind, always craving to know more. He looked over at the visitor, who seemed to be more interested in a loose thread on the couch. “Did you run the register?” ”No.” The homeowner noted the sour tone. “I wasn’t friendly to customers.” ”He used to stock the shelves,” the girl piped up. He looked back down at the paper, a plan forming in his mind. ”We should try to talk to the workers, maybe they could—“ ”Already tried that old man. The store has all new staff.” ”Well there’d still be employment records.” ”Burned. There was a fire during the cataclysm.” The homeowner deflated. That was disappointing. The pale man was so mysterious and enigmatic, his history so cloudy and vague. Getting anything out of him sometimes felt like pulling teeth. And he wasn’t always receptive to sharing, the man was prone to cutting the conversation off if pushed for too far. He tried not to overstep, it was just hard to know where the boundaries were. Though he had been more receptive as of late, sharing far more than usual with the homeowner. Today he was acting strange, more closed off than usual. ”Can I practice a few swings before we eat? Please?” Margo begged, her hands outstretched in prayer. He tapped the papers on the table. ”Did you finish your homework?” The teen pouted. ”No but there’s barely any left. I feel like my brain is mush, can I work on it after dinner? Promise I can get it done, pinky swear!” The girl held out her pinky, eyes pleading. He sighed and returned the gesture.
”Fine. But I want everything done before you leave tomorrow.” ”Deal!” She hopped up, throwing on her winter jacket as she dragged her sports equipment out the door in a flurry of movement. He watched after her fondly. If his boring little home brought some form of joy to the girl, then it was all worth it. The visitor was lying back, a faraway look in his eye as he rubbed his right hand. His mood had not improved, he suspected he did not care for any of the memories recovered today. The homeowner was having trouble reading the other right now, perhaps he just needed a distraction. ”Hey,” he set his hand on the other’s leg, the visitor’s eyes snapping to him instantly. It gave him a rush how quickly the pale man offered him his full attention. “Want to step outside for a while? Get a bit of fresh air?” The pale man stared at him in silence for a few seconds before nodding. ”Sure. I will accompany you.” The weather was starting to get quite chilly, the homeowner tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His breath was fogging in front of him, the comforting smell of woodsmoke from the chimney filling his nose. There was a warmth at his side, the pale man’s shoulder bumping into him as he joined. He fought back a smile. He found his little touches oddly comforting, so foreign after being alone for so long. They reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore, someone willingly chose to stay. The visitor followed him as he walked, no particular goal in mind. He could see Margo in the lower field, returning a wave when she saw him. It had snowed a little last night, a fresh dusting covering the ground. The weather had been fluctuating as of late, as if it couldn’t decide if it was fall or winter yet, snowing one day then melting the next. It wouldn't be long before he would have to break out the shovel, he wondered if the visitor would be willing to help him keep the pathways clear. He snuck a glance at the visitor, who was oddly silent. His eyes downcast, a slight crease in his brows. He wished he would tell him what was bothering him, but the question remained lodged in his throat. He truly was so awful at talking to people, but he didn’t want it to be that way with the pale man. Hell, he hated that he still called him ‘the pale man’, he wanted more than anything to call him by his name, his actual name. There was sadness that simmered below the surface every time he wanted to call to him and was forced to use something else. He wished he could sit him down and go through every name that started with ‘B’ until they found it, but the pale man wasn’t interested. He still insisted that he was no longer that person anymore. He disagreed, finding bits of his current personality still etched into the memories shared with him. The visitor when he was human had been intelligent. He enjoyed a good read. He hated the cold. Dogs were clearly superior to both humans and cats. He disliked authority. Couldn’t stand small talk or pointless conversation with strangers. He enjoyed that part of the pale man, and that part of him had a name. He wanted to know it more than anything, to hold close and cherish knowing that he could be the only one who knew it.
”Hey,” he spoke up, unable to fight the urge to ask anymore. “Have you remembered anything about your name? Even just a feeling of what it could have been?” The visitor’s doleful eyes honed in on his own. He expected him to tell him the usual. ‘I don’t need one’ or ‘that life is behind me’. Instead he fixed him with a look so earnest, it made it difficult to breathe. ”You can call me by any name and I will answer it. Mikhail, pale bastard, super visitor. It does not matter. If you call for me, no matter by what name, I will always answer. Because it is you.” He was rooted to the spot, physically unable to draw air into his lungs. My God did this man know what he was doing to him? That was practically a confession. He forced himself to choke down his emotions, lips pressing together firmly to hide his feelings. The visitor didn’t understand the extent of what he was saying, he couldn’t possibly. He was just profoundly loyal, he had to remind himself not to jump to conclusions. His hands were trembling, he clenched them to hide how affected he was by the other’s statement, even if the visitor couldn’t comprehend the devotion those words implied. He drew in a shaky breath, not really knowing how to respond, eyes unable to look at the other. Before he could fuck up their relationship, the teen came bounding over. ”I’m hungry! What’s for dinner.” He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, still unable to look at the pale man. If he had then maybe he would have noticed the pain in the other’s eyes. *** He was trying to get the teen to go to bed, the girl was adamant about staying up to watch a movie. ”Come on! It’s my last night! You haven’t even watched a single one I’ve brought, stop being so old and grumpy!” He shot her a half hearted glare. ”I’m not even thirty. Why do you keep calling me old?” She crossed her arms, sporting fuzzy pajamas covered in skateboards. ”Okay. How old are you?” ”Twenty eight.” ”That’s old!” He pointed at the visitor behind him. ”He’s older than me!” She arched a brow at him. ”Really Mikhail? You’re going after PB now? That’s low.” The visitor hummed from his spot on the floor, having made a nest for himself when Margo had brought up a movie. He covered a hand over his heart, using a mock voice of hurt. ”How rude.” He scowled at the visitor. At least he was in a better mood. The girl held up a sci-fi flick, a woman screaming as an alien spaceship flew overhead.
”Mikhail! It’s my last night!” She reiterated, shoving the VHS into his face. He grumbled under his breath but took the movie from her anyway. ”Fine. But you better still be bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow, we can’t afford to be late.” She flopped onto the bed dramatically. ”Yeah I know, we have to be on time or Teach will have a cow.” He popped the VHS into the player and glanced at the pale man on the floor. He had brought too many cushions to use up himself. Besides, he hadn’t had the proper chance to annoy him in a while. He stole half of his pillows, the other giving him an incredulous stare. ”You know, I grabbed those for myself.” He was already arranging himself a spot next to him. ”There’s no way you need all of these you greedy bastard.” The pale man sniffed and turned away, feigning offense. ”I am a tall man, Misha. Now I’ll have to suffer.” He rolled his eyes and flopped down on the cushions. ”Overgrown baby.” Margo groaned and peered over the edge of the bed at them. ”Shut up you two! I literally picked out this movie for you!” She pointed at the homeowner. “So watch it!” ”Yes ma’am” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. He behaved for most of the movie, but honestly he wasn’t paying attention to it like he should have been. The homeowner was too focused on the pale man. The man was lying back with one arm tucked under his head, the other resting on his stomach. He was fascinated by the little flickers of emotion that would occur as the movie continued, his full attention invested on the film. The homeowner couldn’t help admiring the other, he sought comfort from his familiarity. His round jawline, delicate nose, ebony hair that fell so flatteringly across his forehead. He had such a sweet face, even though he knew what he was capable of. His body frame spoke of power: wide shoulders, lithe muscles, inhuman strength. His hands alone dwarfed his in comparison. He lay there watching him, wishing he had a good excuse to get closer. Then the visitor looked over at him curiously, the homeowner realizing in horror that the movie had already ended, the credits displayed on the screen. He flushed, gripped the cushion instinctively in panic. What was a valid reason for staring at your roommate for two hours? ”See!” The girl’s head appeared once more, ginger curls cascading over her shoulders. “Mind control. Told you it’s a thing.” He narrowed his eyes. ”Margo. That was a movie. In no way does that depict anything factual or real.” ”Fine! Then I’ll ask him!” He tried to sit up and stop her, not wanting her to think differently of the visitor after working so hard to get them to tolerate each other. “PB did you ever
disobey an order from your queen?” The pale man’s eyes darkened instantly, muscles tensing at her question. ”Only once. My last order.” It was said lowly, like it hurt to get the words out. The homeowner’s heart rate picked up, not liking the look in the other’s eyes. He was looking at him, not the girl. The teen was oblivious. ”Oh really? What’d you do?” ”It was what I didn’t do. I stalled for time, tried to change Her mind. It did not end well.” There was a slight tremor in the visitor’s fingers, as if simply retelling the tale was making him relive it. He tried to tell him he didn’t have to continue, he would get Margo to stop, but the reaction had startled him. The hesitation allowed for the conversation to continue past what it should. ”Could you run away from her? Or could she always find you?” The visitor grimaced, as if the question itself was moronic. ”There was no escaping Her. She was always. Right. Here.” He pointed to his temple. What? In his head? His heart rate picked up, suddenly dreading the end to this conversation. “Margo stop—“ “And what happened when you disobeyed her?” The way the visitor responded turned the homeowner’s veins to ice, voice raw in anguish. ”She tore me apart until I was at my breaking point, until there was almost nothing left. Then, She put me back together again.” ”Stop,” hand reaching out to clutch at the visitor. “You don’t have to continue.” The pale man blinked, as if he was just now realizing where he was and what a state he was in. The teen only now caught on to how badly the visitor had reacted, looking regretfully between the two. ”I’m sorry PB, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The visitor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was even and collected. ”No… my apologies, I did not mean to startle you both. But… it is probably best if we do not discuss Her… Thinking about Her for too long… It affects me.” Both humans agreed to not bring up the ‘visitor queen’ any more. *** The visitor watched as both humans made their rounds around the house. Margo was haphazardly jamming her belongings into her bags while the homeowner attempted to corral her towards the front door. He begrudgingly admitted that as much as he despised humans, he had found her company entertaining. ”Wait wait waaait! Stop rushing me! I gotta say bye to PB.” He heard the front door open back up, the loud thudding of the girl running through the halls growing closer. He waited for
her, head cocked to the side in amusement. She flashed him a grin, braces glinting in the morning light. ”PB you’re actually one of the real ones. Thank you for not being a stick in the mud and reading with me.” He smiled. ”My pleasure.” The girl glanced behind her, checking to see if the hall was empty before coming closer. ”PB listen,” she whispered, eyes desperate and pleading. “Don’t give up on Mikhail. I know you think it’s impossible but I don’t think it is.” He averted his eyes, that sick feeling of hopelessness creeping up his throat again, making it hard to swallow. What could a little girl possibly know? She grabbed his cold hand and patted it in reassurance, the touch startling him. “You’re Rurik. I see it now. You just gotta keep going. Mikhail’s been hurt before, just like Kati. Probably doesn’t think he deserves love because… That’s how I used to feel. He’s like me, you know? You think ‘oh, people just wanna use you, beat you, and throw you away when they’re done with you.’ But you, Mikhail, and Teach? You guys don’t make me feel unloveable.” The girl was tearing up now, wiping one hand furiously at her eyes. “I’ve seen how you treat him, and how highly he talks of you. Please don’t give up. Show him you plan to stay by his side, even when things are kind of shitty, okay?” He looked down at Margo with warmth and a promise in his eyes. ”I never plan to leave his side, no matter what is thrown our way.” He knelt down and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you Margo.” He meant it, the girl’s words had moved him. She smiled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ”Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.” He was surprised when the girl hugged him, initially recoiling from the contact. He blinked a few times before returning the embrace. It was at that moment that he made a decision. There were now two humans he would kill for, no one was allowed to touch one wild curl on this girl’s head. The front door opened once more and she pulled away, punching his arm as she left. ”Margarita I swear if you make us miss this bus—“ ”I’m coming! Jeez! Calm down old man!” He couldn’t help but smile as she waved goodbye. ”Seeya PB! Maybe I can come back for Christmas break!” “I look forward to it.” And with that the girl was gone, but her words of encouragement remained close to his heart. *** The homeowner glanced at his watch, hurrying down the busy street, Margo trailing after him. They were initially running behind, but thankfully they were able to get back on
schedule. He sighed in relief when they got to the inner city bus stop with several minutes to spare. ”Well kid, it’s been nice to have you over. Hope it wasn’t too boring for you.” She smiled up at him, looking more cheerful than he could ever remember. ”You kidding? I had a blast! I’m gonna try to come over for Christmas if Teach’ll let me.” He smiled to himself, feeling like he won a little victory today. The bus should be coming any second, then he was gonna celebrate with a nice dinner, a beer, and finally reclaim his bed. Though, he was going to miss the visitor security blanket. ”Hey Mikhail?” He glanced down, brows twinged in worry. She had sounded nervous. She was picking at her nails, averting her eyes to the ground. “Um, please don’t be mad but… There was an envelope in your room and I had my school supplies on the nightstand, and I really thought it was one of my school assignments and I opened it.” She looked up at him, eyes full of worry. He froze up, breath caught in his throat. He looked away, more out fear than anything. He wasn’t angry with her. “Are you mad at me?” ”No,” he breathed. “I’m not mad.” The girl visibly relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. ”I put it back on the nightstand for you. But um…” She gripped his sleeve. “I know you probably don’t want to but… You… You really need to read what it says.” The homeowner stared forward, lost in his own head. He needed to stop running from it. Even if the words hurt he needed to read them. It was the only way. He bit his bottom lip and gave a jerky nod. ”Yeah. You’re right, kid. I’ll read it, I promise.” The bus rumbled into the station, air brakes whooshing as it ground to a stop. The girl turned and hugged him with all her strength, he groaned as he swore his ribs cracked. ”I’m gonna miss you, old man.” She squeezed him even tighter and whispered, “I wish you could’ve been my dad.” His heart dropped at that, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. He swallowed, patting her back with trembling hands. He was so terrified of becoming like his father that even the thought of having a kid terrified him. But apparently Margo thought highly enough of him, which both frightened and filled him with pride. The teen was bounding the bus with a wave, disappearing behind the closing doors. He waved until he could no longer see the bus, a quiet sadness settling in from her absence. She was so special to him, a rambunctious yet kind soul. A fighter, a girl that had gone through so much at such a young age, yet persisted through it all. He wanted to give her the support he never had, seeing so much of himself in her. Margo deserved so much love and so much happiness, and he was determined to keep his promise to her. *** He held the envelope with shaking hands, so scared to know what potentially lay written in the pages within. A slippery voice in his head hissed that it would be about her discontent with him, how during her final moments he had let her suffer. That he could’ve done more.
He caught himself, steadying his hands with a deep breath. Margo had seen the letter, remember? If it had been scathing she wouldn’t have let him read it, the girl was just as protective over him as he was her. She would’ve hidden it, not carefully placed it back on his nightstand. He looked up at his yellowed ceiling, the only light was from the battered lamp on his end table and the moonlight that seeped through the worn curtains. He could be brave. For her. With shaking hands he unfolded the letter, blue looping handwriting scrawled across the pages. Dearest Mishenka, I know you won’t be reading this until long after I’m gone, you have always been such a stubborn man. Though I knew that when the time came you would read this. Either when your burdens became too great to shoulder alone or the pain in your heart has lessened as the years passed, I knew that one day you would return to me. Because you are a man of your word, which is one of the many reasons I love you. I worry for you. I worry that after I am gone you will stop taking care of yourself or blame yourself for what happened. I need for you to understand that there was nothing you could have done to prevent this. No one gave me this illness, and no one can take it away. We all shall return to the earth one day, I only regret that our time together could not have been longer. I have loved you every day since the day we met. You are strong, resilient, and brave; though I see it in your eyes that you do not believe it. I have never known a man that after experiencing all the pain and hardship that you have, chose to defy the odds and choose to be kind. Every scar you wear is a mark of defiance, that no matter what the world threw your way you still chose to be my grumpy yet kind husband. I wish we could have had a family together. You would have made such a loving father. I need you to know something. My only wish is for you to find peace and happiness. If the time comes and you meet someone that brightens your life, loves you as I do, and lifts you up then I want you to pursue it. The last thing I want is for you to hole yourself away from the world in that house, living a life of loneliness and isolation. You mean the world to me Mishenka. Thank you for the best years of my life. With so much love and forever yours, Vera He couldn’t move for a while, concentrating only on the ceiling above him. Mikhail never cried. His father had instilled that in him at a young age. But right now, in the privacy of his own bedroom, he allowed the tears to silently fall. *** The sound of gentle melody floated through the air. The room was warm, comforting. The feeling one had when returning to something familiar and loved. The homeowner looked
around, his dress shoes clicking along the stone floors. There were a few people milling around, all faces he recognized. Luka, dressed in a stylish yet flamboyant green pantsuit, shot him a smile and a wave. He took a few steps in his direction when the man stopped him, face warm and soft. ”No time to talk to me Misha, they’re waiting for you.” The homeowner tilted his head. ”Who is?” A strong arm pulled him into a one armed hug, Yesenin grinning down at him. ”My good man! You can’t go looking like that.” He plucked the pale rose from his lapel and secured it to the homeowner’s, the splash of white accentuated the blue of his suit. “You’ll be late if you keep standing here.” He looked between the two of them, feeling lost. ”Where am I supposed to go?” Luka laughed, light and gentle. ”Just follow the sound of the piano.” He blinked a few times in confusion before realizing that was the source of the beautiful music he was hearing. ”It’s so far away.” Yesenin patted his shoulder. ”Then you better hurry.” He nodded and took off, shoes clicking once more across the floor. The homeowner couldn’t shake the feeling that this was important, he needed to find the source of the music. As he continued he saw the stand up guy laughing with the stoner, both offering a wave as he passed. ”Yo Miiisha! Totally gnarly party man! Thanks for the invite!” He shook his head and focused on the music. He most definitely did not invite that guy. The music was getting louder, the notes bouncing off the walls elegantly. It was honestly beautiful, so caught up in the sound he almost missed the teen and kindergarten teacher. Margo was proudly sporting a dress that almost resembled armor, pitch black and shining. ”What’d’ya think, old man? Don’t I look just like Lady Katina?” He smiled, remembering the novel series she loved so much. ”Of course. You look amazing.” She beamed up at him. The kindergarten teacher was wearing a modest yet formal gown, smiling warmly at him. ”Good luck,” she wished while Margo punched his side. ”Get going! You’re already late!” He smiled and took off again, nearly laughing at how the teen whooped and hollared after him. The music was getting ever closer. He was walking down a long hallway now, a bright room just on the other side. Just when he was about to enter the room a woman stepped out from the shadows, face haunting and sad yet still gazing at him fondly. The widow. He paused as she gestured for him to stand still. She reached for his collar, fixing the garment and laying it flat as it should be. ”Honestly Misha, you’re hopeless.” Her eyes still held unfathomable sadness, but she offered a small smile. “There. Now you’re presentable.” He nodded.
”Thank you.” She stepped away from him, sad eyes peering into the room before them. “I’m happy for you. Maybe one day I’ll be ready too. But for now, I can be happy watching you.” He tilted his head in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what she meant but she was already walking away, black dress trailing behind her. He faced the room again, heart picking up nervously. What was waiting for him in there? ”Well, only one way to find out,” he mumbled. The homeowner stepped into the light, the sound from the piano soothingly encompassing his senses, making the room feel welcoming and drawing him forward. Crystal chandeliers hung above, glittering and shining with golden accents. Huge roaring hearths lined the walls, illuminating the room in gorgeous sunset hues. He couldn’t help but ogle at his surroundings, feeling like he had stepped into a fairytale castle. A woman in a glittering blue dress was waiting for him, standing in front of a huge shining piano. He couldn’t see who was playing it, but he could barely make out his black hair. He was very talented. As he stepped closer the woman turned and smiled, familiar eyes laced with so much warmth it hurt. He smiled in return, heart lifting as she approached. ”Verochka,” he greeted, hands outstretched to take her own. She was practically glowing, ethereal. ”My darling, Mishenka,” she teased, eyes crinkled in mirth. ”May I have this dance?” “Always.” He stepped closer and stepped off with the music, the piano keeping time with him despite the man being a terrible dancer. ”Oh Misha,” She sighed, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He closed a hand over it, leaning into the touch. She smiled, eyes both warm and sad. “You finally read my note.” He swallowed and faced the pain. No more hiding. ”I did.” She looked at him with so much pride. ”I am so glad.” They danced together, movements unhurried and tender. He laid his head upon her own, breathing in that comforting perfume she always wore. She pulled away and held both of his hands, stopping them in their dance. “I love you so much. I want to know that no matter what I will continue to love you. Do you understand?” He nodded, gripping her hands tighter. She stepped closer. “I wish I could have spent more time by your side, but I’m so happy you won’t be alone any more.” The piano music stopped, he could hear the sound of the musician pushing away from the instrument. He almost turned his head to look but Vera was reaching for his cheek again, capturing his attention. ”Someone else has offered to love and cherish you in my absence. Fiercely loyal and faithful. Are you ready to let someone else into your heart?” His fingers were shaking in her hands. He was scared, so very scared. He was afraid of being hurt, afraid of letting someone else into his life and having to lose them again. He knew who was standing behind him. He wanted this despite the fear.
“Yes,” he hated that his voice shook, made him feel weak. But Vera didn’t think so, eyes gazing at him with all the love in the world. He let her turn him around, still clutching one of his hands. The musician was watching them, those beautiful dark eyes finding his own. The pale man was the one playing the piano, fitted in an elegant black and white suit, a blue and green boutonnière pinned to his breast pocket. The color reminded him of his eyes. The homeowner took a few steps forward led by Vera before stopping in front of the visitor. She patted his hand in encouragement before letting him go, reaching out to the pale man as she passed. ”Take care of him.” He offered a hand to the homeowner, who slowly took it, hands still unsteady. ”I will. I promise.” She smiled and walked away, a bright light filling the air around them. Music was drifting through the air again, though this time it was the sweet sound of a violin singing. He knew this had to be Vera, the comforting feeling so familiar and encouraging. He was pulled closer, the pale man leading him into a dance. The look the visitor was giving him made him flush, not used to being looked at with such reverence. He focused on his shoes, feeling so out of his element. When he nearly stepped on the other’s feet he about died from embarrassment. ”Sorry, I’m a really shitty dancer.” The pale man grinned and pulled him closer, leaning down to murmur in his ear. ”Then let’s pick up the pace, shall we?” ”Wait no- that’s—“ But the visitor was already whisking him away with a laugh, the homeowner stepping all over him. “You son of a bitch!” He felt the visitor drop his head into the crook of his neck, body shaking in laughter. He couldn’t help but laugh too, they were basically just spinning around the dance floor at this point. “This isn’t even dancing,” he wheezed, staggering to the left with his very tall companion. He felt a kiss on his neck, jolting from the sensation. It was just a quick press of lips, slowly trailing up to his ear but he was gripping the other like his life depended on it. ”Well if you insist. Let’s dance.” The homeowner was spun on his heel and dipped before he could realize what was happening, face to face with the smug bastard. This time he grinned in response, fisting his hand in the man’s expensive suit. ”Alright, if that’s how you wanna play. Let’s do this, I won’t make it easy for you.” The visitor’s face lit up in delight, pulling him excitedly up from the dip. The pace they set was impossible, each with the intent to trip the other. The movements were quick, the pale man’s impossibly elegant while the homeowner brute forced his way into avoiding collision. The visitor was a dirty cheater, sneaking little touches to throw off the homeowner’s performance, but he proved to be a formidable opponent. The music swelled around them, matching their brutal pace. The pale man stuck out a leg to trip him right at the peak of the song and it got him, but not before he grabbed the other’s tie
and yanked him down too. The pale man cradled him close to avoid hitting the floor, the visitor taking most of the force of the fall. He smirked up at the dazed man. “Told you I wasn’t going down easy.” He watched the other’s pupils dilate, a crooked grin breaking out across his face. Their delirious laughter bounced off the walls. There were cool fingers brushing against his face, startling the other into silence. He felt so warm and content in the other’s hold. Then a realization hit him, punching the air out his lungs. This was a dream. ”Is any of this real?” He whispered, fingers gripping the other so hard it would have hurt. The visitor was still gazing at him in adoration. He leaned closer, warm breath fanning across his cheek. ”When you wake up, you can make this real.” The last thing he felt were cool lips pressing against his own, eyes slipping shut holding him close. *** The homeowner jolted awake, the dream still fresh in his memories. He swore his lips were still tingling from the kiss, but it had to be all in his head. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He wanted it to be real. The dream visitor’s words repeated in his mind. ”When you wake up, you can make this real.” The homeowner set his jaw and made up his mind. From now on he's going to give these feelings for the pale man a chance, and if there were any signs that they were reciprocated then he was going to muster up the courage to act. He looked down at the papers in his hands, he had slept with them clutched tightly to his chest. “Thank you Vera.” folding up the letter and placing it neatly in his nightstand. The homeowner looked over at the bedroom window. How many years had it been since those curtains had been opened? Five years? He stood up, approaching the window. He grabbed the flimsy fabric in his hand. He was finally ready. No more running. No more fear. For the first time since Vera’s passing, the homeowner opened the bedroom curtains and let in the light. *** Some days he was sure there was something between them, others he was almost convinced there was no hope. When the homeowner presented him with a newspaper and explained that he had signed up so he could read something new every day he nearly swept him off his feet right there, so pleased by the human’s thoughtfulness. But another night he had been so angry with him he didn’t talk to him for most of the day. Apparently the mailman had been more observant than he realized and had picked up on him stalking him on his route. The post office had sent a letter of warning threatening to stop mail delivery if the ‘harassment’ continued. He had done this with good intentions, only trying to ensure that the man meant his human no harm. But the homeowner had still let him have it that night, it was the angriest he’d seen him in a long time.
The visitor had been emboldened the day after Margo left, encouraged by her words and by a change in the human’s demeanor. They were spending more time together, the human was more open and approachable to the visitor’s delight. The human invited him anytime he went out in town or even did anything out in the yard. He accepted every time, eager to spend as much time as possible with the man. Though it was also maddening. Realizing the true nature of his feelings had awoken new desires, ones that were growing more and more difficult to resist. When the human had his back to him he fought the urge to yank the collar of his sweater down and bury his face into his neck, biting and claiming the hermit as his. Ooooh the thought of the human bearing his marks was soooo intoxicating. The visitor wanted to cover him in them, press him into the wall and milk every ounce of pleasure he could from the other man as he watched. He wanted to run his hands over the solid muscle of his chest, wanted to hear him in ways he’d never heard before. He growled and turned his head in an effort to reign himself in, pale fingers twitching at his sides. He had no outlet for all this pent up energy, which was riling him up even worse. Then the human had to go and start touching him too, driving him up the wall. His touches were all friendly in nature, a hand on the small of his back, grasping his shoulder sometimes as he talked, intertwining his legs with the visitor’s on the couch. There was one night where the human had leaned over and whispered the answer to his crossword puzzle in his ear and the feeling of the human’s breath on his face had him nearly pinning the other to the table and pressing his lips desperately against his mouth. He wanted to fuck him stupid, until the human couldn’t remember his name either. Winter had just begun, snow now a common occurrence throughout the day. Routines changed. He helped the human bring in wood to stoke the fire, usually before the sun had risen in the sky. Then they enjoyed a cup of coffee before breakfast. Usually he fought the urge to pull the man into his lap, especially with how close he’d started sitting with him now. The visitor wanted permission to touch him, press that blazing warm body against his inhuman form. The pale man broke his favorite mug the other morning, dropping it when an unexpected pain shot through his hand. The human had been concerned, tended to the mess and his hand afterwards. As lovely as it was to have the human’s full attention, massaging his hand with extreme care and focus, the event worried him. The pain was becoming more frequent. Today was a dreary day, large snowflakes drifting by the windows. He felt run down and exhausted despite having done very little, partially due to his lust keeping him up for a large portion of the night. It wasn’t his fault, the human had forgotten to lay his change of clothes out after a shower. The visitor nearly choked when the other walked by with only a towel across his waist, had the gall to touch his shoulder as he passed, a smile in those green eyes. It was almost like he was trying to kill him. The visitor had to run off some of that excess energy in the woods, too high strung to stay in the house after that. He scooted closer the fire, hoping to absorb the warmth from the tiny hearth. The human had been moving around the house all day, cleaning and tidying up as he passed. He had a feeling
he was doing it just to keep himself occupied. That urge to get up and bury his face into the hollow of his neck was back. He watched the man now, scratching the underside of his beloved cat with a soft expression. He wished that look could be aimed at him, but he choked it down. To be this close yet feel so far was torture. Still he refused to stray from his side. The visitor would bask in his company, protect and love him, even if those feelings were never returned. And there was some comfort in that. ”Any exciting plans for today?” The human was looking over to where he was laying in front of the wood stove, trying to massage the prickling feeling out of his hand. ”Of course. Can’t you tell?” He gestured to the fire next to him. “My schedule is completely booked.” He heard the human step closer, the pale man smiled at the homeowner’s unamused expression. But his eyes revealed his true feelings, the warmth in that green gaze meant he found his comment funny. ”Hm, that's too bad. I was going to ask if you wanted to play a game with me tonight.” The pale man’s eyes darkened, interest piqued. ”Oh? What kind of game?” The human had the nerve to look smug when he replied. ”A drinking game. It’s been such a boring day, would be nice to let loose this evening.” He narrowed his eyes. A drinking game? He considered it. The visitor had not enjoyed the hangover he experienced the last time they went out drinking, but he also wanted to spend time with his human more than anything. This was unusual for the human, really only the second time he’s invited him to play a game. He enjoyed playing fool, so maybe the hangover would be worth it. ”Okay. What are the rules?” The human held up a finger to stop him, a twinkle in his eye. ”Nuh uh, not so fast. There’s a catch. If you wanna play you have to do something for me.” Little did the human know he’d do anything for him. He stood slowly, closing in on his favorite human. ”Name your conditions and it will be done.” The human smirked at him, he got the feeling he just fell for a trap. ”Shovel the pathway then meet me in the office.” Oh he was evil, but he admired his tenacity. He couldn’t help the slow grin breaking out across his face. The visitor had been avoiding that task, disliking the snow and how it made him feel. It was the one job that he tried to find excuses for, knowing that this pissed the human off. Thus far the hermit had been clearing the path every day, but now it looked like it was his turn to break a sweat. He leaned down so he was closer to eye level with the man, a rumble in his throat. ”So cruel Misha. But I shall do this for you.” That little twitch the human did when he was trying not to smile only made him want to kiss him more. ”Good. See you in a few hours.”
*** They were seated on the couch but were turned towards one another, so close that their knees were touching. The human had brought beer with him, already popping the top of a can and handing it to him. ”Okay, let’s make this interesting. I know you’ve been working on your memories and for some reason you’re always asking about mine so let’s play a questions game. I’ll ask you something about yourself and if you answer I’ll take a drink. If you refuse to answer then you have to take a drink. If you can’t remember, we'll both take a drink to make it fair. The same rules apply to me. Game ends when one of us backs down, got it?” The visitor eyed the other with interest. Oh he liked this idea, he only hoped the human was willing to answer his questions. ”Alright. Let’s play.” The human started the game by asking the first question. ”How long did you work at the grocery store?” It took the visitor a few moments to grasp the answer. ”Four years. What do you discuss with Luka?” To his disappointment the human took a sip of his beer. ”Sorry, I still can’t say. I’ll tell you soon, alright?” He didn’t respond but nodded, considering the human’s words a promise. The visitor was having trouble hiding his jealousy towards the cheerful man. Infuriatingly the human continued to avoid several more questions. One had been ‘what happened to your mother?’ And another was ‘What occurs most frequently in your nightmares?’ At least he couldn’t answer his next three questions, forcing the human to not only finish his first beer, but to also feel just as dissatisfied as he felt. Halfway through his second beer the human nudged the pale man’s knee to get the other’s attention. “Do you remember other jobs you had?” He tapped one long finger against his pants leg. ”I switched jobs frequently. I was a factory worker for a while. Worked at a dog kennel. Then I did odd jobs for people here and there. Sometimes I played piano at a bar downtown but that was only when I felt like it so it wasn’t a real job.” He could tell the alcohol was already affecting his beloved human, eyes sleepy and glazed over. He hoped that meant he would be a little freer with his answers. ”Did you just like traveling or was there a reason you hopped between jobs?” The visitor leaned closer and shook his finger at the human. ”No no no dear Misha. That was two questions.” The human visibly pouted, rolling his eyes. He noted that drinking made Misha more expressive, unable to keep up his usual facade. ”Please? Humor me?” The visitor’s smile faltered. Should he be concerned how quickly he wanted to cave to him?
”Fine. But it’s only fair if I ask two as well.” Luckily the human agreed to his terms. ”Deal.” ”I had trouble maintaining peace with my coworkers and bosses. I was not a social man and that angered some. When they tried to talk to me I only spoke if I felt the conversation was worth having. I suppose that enraged a few, I was the frequent target for ridicule and criticism. My bosses also did not care for my attitude, I would speak my mind perhaps more freely than I should if I felt they were being unjust or executing a poor decision. I did enjoy playing at the bar, the owner didn’t talk much and the patrons couldn’t reach me on the stage. Shame it paid so little.” ”I would have loved to hear you play.” The honesty behind those words shook him, an unusual tenderness surging up for the man in front of him. His fingers twitched at his sides, the urge to pull him close was strong. Words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. ”I wish I could play for you.” And he meant it. He would play for hours hunched over those ivory keys if it made the human happy. The human had that spark in his eyes that he loved so much. It used to be so rare, he was thrilled that the expression was becoming more common. ”Maybe one day you can, we just have to find a piano.” He smiled at the human’s hopefulness. The likelihood of stumbling upon the instrument and the visitor remembering how to play it seemed like a fantasy, but it was one he was willing to entertain. ”Perhaps.” It warmed his soul to see the human look so pleased at his comment. He would relearn the damn instrument if that made his human keep smiling like that. “My turn,” the pale man reminded him. “First question, have you ever been employed?” He was temporarily backing off some of his most pressing questions, worried that maybe such heavy topics were the reason the human kept avoiding them. ”Not like you. I grew up trading work for goods or selling to others. When I was younger I did yard work for little old ladies in the area. I would also bale the neighbor’s hay of course but sometimes I’d trade what I grew in the garden with whatever they had to offer. In the winter I also sold deer to the butcher, he pays pretty well. I just try to scrape by and provide for myself as much as possible. Anything else I buy with the money Dad left me, as much as it pisses me off. But I have no interest in working.” The visitor felt pleased he finally got an answer from his human. “Second question, after everything that has happened in this house why did you stay?” For a moment he honestly thought the human was going to pass the question, the beer already raising up to his lips. But he stopped himself. ”You know what, fuck it. I feel trapped here. This place, this awful house, it’s all I’ve ever known. When dad was here I felt like I couldn’t escape and even once he was dead and gone I still felt like I couldn’t leave, couldn’t afford anything else. And now the cataclysm has created a housing shortage for a market that was already abysmal before. I’m doomed to die in this fucking house.” The human guzzled the rest of his beer down despite answering the question. The pale man wished he could change this, take the human away from here. He still
believed part of the reason the human stayed was his fear of change. Having lived in so many places before this he was no stranger to picking up and moving across towns. ”If you ever wanted to leave, I would follow you.” He had no attachment to this house. His ‘home’ was not a place oddly enough. It mattered not if he lived in a boat, across the world, or a stuffy apartment as long as Misha was there too. His words did mean something to the human. His eyes softened when he spoke them, a hand reaching out and resting on the visitor’s knee. As the night went on the human continued to get more and more intoxicated, a sleepy grin plastered across his face as the visitor answered his questions. They talked about their school years, surprisingly experiencing similarities growing up. Both had felt like outcasts, Misha because he struggled to say the right things and started fights, the pale man because he was considered odd despite not understanding what he was doing wrong. Misha struggled in school, due to the fact his home life was so tumultuous. The visitor was pushed as hard as possible to succeed, his mother had only accepted top performance from him. Neither could keep friends, they either left or grew apart as time went on. ”Did you ever know your father?” The human asked, head resting against the couch cushion. ”No. My mother spoke very ill of him, told me he was a coward for leaving us. Apparently the thought of becoming a father was too much for him to handle and he ran. So I was the bastard son of a man I’ve never met. People looked down on my mother for it, she struggled to make ends meet and to put food on the table.” He thought about stopping there, but the look in the human’s eyes kept him talking. “You know, she couldn’t read or write. Wasn’t even originally from Russia, her family moved here when she was an infant from Korea. That affected her ability to find work. She pushed me so hard in school because she believed I would save us both. That’s why I learned how to play the piano, she even got permission from the school to let me stay after hours to practice. At first I felt like a hero, like this was what I was born to do. But over time she kept pushing and pushing and pushing… Those feelings turned to anger. I remember I had to compete for a spot at a high end classical music academy, one that would have put us in a nice apartment and lead to a well paying career if I managed to get accepted and graduate. Before the competition she had me practicing all hours of the day. I asked once for a break when my fingers were so sore I could barely move them and do you know what she said to me?” The human shook his head, having moved closer at some point to hear the story better, thighs pressing against each other. ”She said ‘You sound just like your father. No drive. Do you not love your mother? After all that I have done for you? All the blood, sweat, and tears I have shed to clothe, feed, and care for you? This is our only chance at a better life, the least you can do for this family. You can rest when you’ve done your part and dug us out of this hole you put us in’.”
“She blamed you for being born.” The human spoke it with certainty, an understanding in his eyes. “My father blamed me too. He always said I killed my mother, that she would still be here if not for me. She passed away in the hospital, complications from my birth. I knew he would have rather had her than me. That’s why I think he was so cruel growing up. He never forgave me for existing.” They watched each other, each finding comfort in each other’s presence. Maybe that was why he felt so different towards Misha than any other human. The parallels between their lives brought a closeness he had never felt for another person, he could understand him in a way that no one else ever could. ”Did you get into that school?” ”No,” the visitor answered, rubbing at the low ache in his right hand. “I don’t believe I did.” That part of the memory was so fucked up and jumbled, it hurt to even try to access it right now. Did he even want to know? Instead he leaned closer to the human, mostly for a distraction and partially due to the alcohol making him dumb and affectionate. The visitor cupped his face, a gentle warmth pooling in his core. “Tell me, what caused enough ire to earn this?” He gently caressed the scar across his eyebrow, enjoying the spreading flush upon the other’s face. The human actually cracked a crooked grin at that, sleepy eyes taking a mischievous turn. ”Oh that? I’ll tell you.” The human slid forward, the visitor’s brain short circuiting as the human ran a hand up his leg and over his chest before resting on his shoulder. “It was another one of his lessons. Thought it would stop me from ever doing it again.” The pale man couldn’t look away, breath catching in his lungs. The homeowner smiled at him then, the image burning into the visitor’s memories forever. “After church he caught me kissing another man.” The visitor’s eyes widened, sucking in a breath involuntarily. This couldn’t be happening. He had to be dreaming. “Guess it didn’t work though,” the human continued, the hand trailing up to the visitor’s jawline. “Because I want to kiss the man in front of me right now.” He was frozen to the spot, heart beating faster than it ever had before. The human leaned forward, looking so handsome, so perfect. And then those lips were pressed against his own, the feeling so overwhelming he couldn’t move. Then all too soon, the man pulled away. Something in him broke at that. No no no no don’t leave— The pale man surged forward, recapturing those lips like he was starving, desperate and needy. A whine tore from his throat before he could stop it, one hand cradling the back of the human’s neck to keep him close. He needed this, his desire for the other flaring possessively as he pressed him into the couch cushions, the firm slide of his lips encouraging the visitor on. He pinned the other under his weight, as close to the human as he could get. It wasn’t enough, he needed more. The visitor ran his tongue along the man’s bottom lip, begging— pleading for entry. His heart trilled in joy when those lips parted. The pale man couldn’t hold back, his tongue claiming the other’s mouth within seconds. The human shuddered and made the most beautiful sound, one that he would replay in his fantasies forever. The kiss was wet, uncoordinated, and sloppy but the visitor thought the slide of their tongues was simply perfect. His hands slid under the human’s shirt, mapping out both the planes of his stomach as well as every inch of
his mouth at the same time. He was sensitive, jerking and twitching in his hold, the visitor’s other hand finding and gripping his hip to keep him still. The human turned his head, their lips disconnecting with a pop as he gasped for air. The collar of his turtleneck had slid down, exposing the tender flesh the pale man constantly craved. He stared at it hungrily before he caved. The visitor nuzzled into the other’s neck, licking a broad stripe across the sensitive skin. He could feel the other shudder in response, encouraging the man to bury his teeth into the column of his neck, probably harder than he should. He was staking his claim, a mark for the human to bear. The human cried out, hand fisting into the pale man’s hair and bucking against his hold. He licked and sucked on the mark in apology, but he really wasn’t sorry. Oh this was intoxicating. Having the human under him like this, panting and flushed. The other pulled him away from his neck by his hair, which at first made him whimper at the loss before those wonderful lips were back on his own. He returned the kiss eagerly, a purr rumbling from his chest. This kiss was slower, the human setting the pace now. The visitor didn’t mind, following his human’s lead happily. He didn’t know how long they were like this. It could have been for a few minutes or a few hours. He didn’t care, all of his focus was captivated by Misha. The human pulled away to catch his breath, a string of saliva still connecting the two. The visitor felt drunk, not from the alcohol but from the man in his arms. Wait. The alcohol. It was like being dunked headfirst in ice water, stomach plummeting in dread. Was this all just because Misha was drunk? He stared down at the sleepy human, the other’s eyes already slipping shut. ”Misha,” he couldn’t keep the panic out of his tone. He needed this to be real. He needed this so bad. The human hummed, breathing slow and calm. ”You win. M’ tired,” he slurred. The pale man was trembling, heart lodged painfully in his throat. But the human was already asleep, soft snores the only sound in the room. What if this was a mistake? What if in the morning the human hated him, regretted everything and didn’t want him around anymore? He couldn’t even play it off, the evidence was right there. He marked him, dark and obvious on his neck. Even if by some miracle the human didn’t remember or notice the mark it would be agony to go back to how they were before. He felt his touch, heard those sounds, knew what he tasted like now. He pulled the sleeping man closer, burying his head into the crook of his neck as he shook. ”Misha,” he choked out, knowing the other couldn’t hear. “I’m in love with you.” *** Today the homeowner invited the visitor to join him on his visit to Luka. He agreed despite his glum demeanor. He was acting oddly this morning, demure and withdrawn. The homeowner was confident it was probably a hangover from last night, he had been pretty sick
last time they drank together. Speaking of last night he couldn’t tell what had been real and what was a dream. He remembered a kiss, a pretty intense one, but he dreamt of the pale man often. The visitor had recently taken the place of his usual nightmares. Which in a way was a blessing but it also led to waking up to an unpleasant sensation in his boxers and having to do the walk of shame to the bathroom in the morning, feeling like a hormonal teen again. At least he did the laundry so the evidence could never be seen. In retrospect maybe a drinking game had been a terrible idea for a way to get to know each other better. His goal had been to use the alcohol to get past his fear, it usually emboldened him. But the problem was now his memories were hazy. He was conflicted. He couldn’t just ask about the kiss out of fear of revealing himself. The homeowner really was trying to be brave, but the thought of fucking this all up was terrifying. He had been so distracted this morning he had gotten ready in a fog, trying to pin the exact moment he fell asleep. Apparently he was still distracted. The homeowner suddenly found himself careening towards the asphalt, the icy sidewalk causing him to lose his footing. He didn’t even have time to react before a strong grip stopped him before he landed, the pale man looking down at him. The visitor pulled him upright, hand still affixed to his elbow. It was embarrassing to be this messed up over something that probably didn’t happen. ”Thanks.” The pale man nodded, but didn’t withdraw his hand even as they started walking again. The homeowner bit his lip, wanting more than anything to know what the visitor was thinking. “Oh so now you don’t trust me to walk down the street without your help?” He was expecting a joke or the usual banter but instead the visitor looked at him in worry, brows furrowed. ”Do you want me to let go?” He turned away, cursing to himself. No. No he did not. ”It’s fine.” Thankfully they were almost there, though the homeowner felt like it was the longest five minutes in his life. The visitor was definitely behaving oddly, the only question was why? Did he say or do something? Or was the kiss real… The visitor would have said something though right? If the feeling was mutual then he’d be more clingy than usual, and if it wasn’t he wouldn’t have agreed to join him, right? God he wished he was better at talking to people. ”Hey Misha one and two!” Luka was waving from the apartment entryway, Yesenin to his left. The homeowner didn’t even bristle at the joke, too worried that he doomed his relationship before it even started. They enjoyed tea and lunch together, Luka happily flitting between them all while Yesenin read the paper. The homeowner wishing he could have sat closer to the visitor, kept apart by a frilly end table. The pale man was quiet for most of the visit, only speaking when he or Luka engaged with him. The homeowner was focused on the little crease in the other’s brow, wanting to cradle his face and smooth those worry lines from his expression himself. He was growing antsy, the hermit getting close to climbing over the end table and demanding answers, company be damned. Instead he opted for something he hadn’t tried before. He reached for his hand, praying that if a higher power did exist they would grant him strength.
The visitor had been surprised, looking up at the homeowner in confusion. The homeowner tried to maintain eye contact with him at first but the intensity of his stare caused him to look away, losing his confidence. He started to withdraw his hand, fingers trembling. But the pale man turned his arm and gripped his palm firmly, their fingers interlocking. The homeowner relaxed, returning the hold. So the visitor didn’t hate him. He was just working himself up, the guy probably just felt under the weather. When they were getting ready to leave he accompanied Yesenin to take out the trash, leaving Luka to keep the visitor company. ”Have you told him yet?” The homeowner glanced over at the tall man. ”Told him what?” Yesenin shot him an unamused look and it clicked. “Oh. No, not yet. I haven’t worked up the courage.” The man hummed, sliding the dumpster door open. ”Listen, I’m happy for you. I really am. But I can’t take much more.” ”What?” He couldn’t keep the indignation from his voice. The taller man ignored him and tossed the bags in the dumpster, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket afterwards. ”When you’re not looking he watches you like some lovesick puppy. It’s painful to watch. Misha, you have to put the poor sap out of his misery.” He stared at the older man, mouth agape. ”What are you talking about? I’ve never seen him look at me like that.” Yesenin gripped his shoulder firmly. ”My good man. He’s not subtle about it. You are just bad at reading people. Trust me.” The homeowner worried at his bottom lip. Could that be true? He looked off in the distance to where the visitor and Luka were chatting. That ache in his chest was back, returning whenever he thought about the pale man for too long. ”I’m not so sure, he’s different. He doesn’t understand social cues or norms. I can’t risk making the wrong call, I care about him too much. He’s difficult to read.” ”Misha, you’re the one that’s hard to read. The guy’s over the moon for you but half the time you’re walking around with a scowl or that closed off look you always resort to. He’s probably confused, can’t tell what you want.” He glared at the other man. He pointed down at him. “Yeah, that look right there.” “Oh shut up.” The man held up his hands and shook his head. Okay, how about this. Watch his body language. He only relaxes around you, betcha money he’ll even smile when he turns around and sees you.” He narrowed his eyes at the tall man. ”Fine. But don’t be surprised when he doesn’t react. He’s nursing a hangover today.” The homeowner trudged through the snow, determined to prove his friend wrong. As he drew closer he could tell the pale man was mostly tuning Luka out, dead eyes focused on a random spot in the horizon.
But when those dark eyes locked onto him, he actually saw it. His face softened, a spark of life reentering his gaze. His shoulders lowered, tension leaving the body. And lastly a smile, sweet and genuine, spread across his face. Fuck, Yesenin was right. He was an idiot. The homeowner ignored how Yesenin was smirking at him, angry that he now owed the man money. But in a way the visitor’s reaction brought peace to his anxious mind. “Thank you for having us over,” the homeowner spoke up, accepting the one arm hug Luka offered in return. ”Always a pleasure! See you both soon.” Yesenin shook the visitor’s hand, actually offering the other a friendly smile. ”Nice to see you again. Take care.” The pale man nodded and exchanged goodbyes, joining the homeowner once finished. His presence at his side was such a comfort, he wished he could reach out and take his hand once more. But not only was that socially unacceptable, he also needed to confess first. He wasn’t scared anymore, he was ready to face him. Once they got home he would ask. He would be brave. The homeowner was content as they walked. He threw up a wave as Luka and Yesenin became dots in the distance, grateful to have such good friends. The visitor seemed to be feeling better, a peaceful silence falling between the two. They were walking down familiar streets, ones that he remembered wandering on their way to the clothing drive. If he had known back then how integral the visitor would become in his life he would have changed a few things. But he couldn’t really beat himself up over his gruff actions too much, the visitor ended up enjoying his presence all the same. The homeowner paused when he realized the pale man was no longer following him, glancing back to see him looking at the burnt ruins of an apartment complex. Wait, he’d done this before. He rejoined him, glancing between the visitor and the desecrated building. This was the second time he had stopped upon seeing the building. There had to be a correlation. He opened his mouth to ask but froze when he noticed his tormented expression. He wasn’t breathing correctly, eyes unfocused and glassy. Panic constricted his chest. He reached out, gently grabbing his arm. ”Hey, what’s going on? Are you oka—“ ”I lived there,” he choked out, voice tight with pain. “Did she… the fire… my dog…” Oh God. His dog died in the fire didn’t she? The homeowner threw an arm around his back and pulled him closer. He didn’t know what to say, what words could ease this kind of pain? The homeowner couldn’t come up with anything, he was the worst person to provide comfort to someone. All he could do was cling to him, knowing that wasn’t enough. Come on, say something. Fucking say something! He grit his teeth, hating himself so much. He opened his mouth but a woman’s voice interrupted him. ”Boris?” The voice was timid and shaking. He turned, a young woman with short brown hair stood behind them. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Her gaze was trained on the pale man. “Boris! Oh my God you survived, where have you been?”
There was so much concern in her voice. She advanced on him quickly, hands clasped together at her chest. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I even put up posters. First that phone call, then you didn’t come to work, then I saw the fire and I thought…” She was tearing up, looking entirely overwhelmed. Boris. The homeowner’s breath caught in his throat. His name, he finally knew his name. The homeowner looked at the visitor, noticing the foggy look in his eyes. He was having trouble remembering who this was. The woman stopped, clearly confused by his lack of response. “Boris?” The homeowner stepped forward. “Hello,” he offered a hand to the woman who shook it wearily. “I’m Mikhail, his roommate. I’m sorry, Boris suffered head trauma during the cataclysm and lost most of his memories. We’ve been trying to get some of them back, but we couldn’t find anyone that knew anything. You’re the first person to recognize him, we didn’t even know his name until now. Please, could you help us? Do you know what happened here?” He gestured at the ruins behind him. The woman’s expression changed to sympathy instantly, glancing between the two. “Oh that’s terrible,” she grew quiet, muttering to herself. “That’s why you never called back, everything makes sense now.” Her eyes grew determined, looking up at the visitor. “Boris, my name is Tatiana. We worked together. The night you disappeared you called the store, you told me you were in danger and couldn’t make it back to your apartment. I did what you asked. I have Anya, your dog.” The visitor looked ill, sucking in a breath so hard the homeowner put a hand on his back in comfort. The man was shaking. “Anya? She’s alive?” The girl smiled. ”Yes, she’s happy and healthy. She misses you though, wanna come see her? I live nearby.” The homeowner saw the visitor’s eyes go from hopeful to unsure. He spoke for him, knowing how much the dog meant to him. ”Yes please.” Tatiana brightened, motioning the two men to follow her. ”I am so glad you’re okay. I had always hoped but when you never came looking for Anya I really thought something horrible had happened.” The homeowner fell into step next to her. ”Do you still work at the store?” She shook her head. ”No, when things started getting scary I stopped going to work. I just bunkered down and hid, praying it would all be over soon. Turns out it was a good thing I did, some maniac torched the building and killed a bunch of our coworkers. It was horrible.” The cataclysm brought out the worst of humanity, humans turning on each other when faced with such hardship. She looked over at the homeowner. “Were you two living together during the cataclysm too?” He grimaced. Well he couldn’t exactly tell her what he got up to those days could he? ”Kind of. We saw each other, but it wasn’t until after the cataclysm that we properly met each other.” He glanced back at the visitor behind them. He was shuffling along, a lost look on his face. His heart rolled painfully in his chest, he could tell this was a lot for him right now. He
was just about to reach out to him when the woman tapped his shoulder. She pointed at some townhomes ahead. ”I live right over there, let me go grab her real quick.” Tatiana tossed a smile back at the visitor. “She’s going to be so excited to see you!” The girl hurried off, digging out her house keys from her pocket as she went. He watched her leave, once sure she could no longer hear them he turned to the visitor. ”Hey, you okay?” He looked everything but okay, face pinched in pain. ”This is a mistake,” he muttered, eyes darting around in panic. He stepped closer to the man, trying to get the other to look at him. ”Why? I’m sure you miss her just as much as she misses you.” When the visitor’s eyes snapped to him there was an indescribable sorrow in their depths. ”I’m not the same person anymore. I’m not human… She’s an animal, I can’t explain this to her,” he gestured to his body. “To her I’ll be a stranger, a monster. I can’t, I can’t—“ He grabbed his arms, trying to steady the man. ”It’s okay,” he tried to explain. He choked down his distaste for canines in order to comfort him. “Dogs are smart, they know their owners.” ”She will see a threat. Or worse, she will fear me. I can’t bear to see that. Misha please, let’s go now before she notices—“ But it was too late, a brown dog was exiting the house. She had a white chest and curled tail, one ear propped up on alert while one flopped about halfway. The animal had noticed them and was trotting over to investigate. The homeowner stepped away from the visitor, attempting to choke down his fear of the dog as she drew closer. The visitor’s face hardened into something unreadable, not reacting to the animal’s presence. She ignored the homeowner, sniffing the pale man’s pants curiously. The pale man didn’t speak, much to the homeowner’s frustration. He was giving up! For a moment it looked like she lost interest, turning away to head back to the house when she paused. He pleaded silently to the animal from where he stood, looking between the two anxiously. Please Anya. Please please please recognize him, you’re breaking his heart. The dog slowly stepped closer, looking up at the pale man with a tilt of her head. Her tail started slow, before suddenly the dog went berserk. She was a wiggling blur of brown and white, yipping excitedly and jumping on the visitor. The pale man broke, a shaky grin spreading across his face as he fell to his knees, hands grabbing at her fluffy body. ”Such a smart girl,” he heard him say, the dog licking at his face and whining excitedly. He stepped back to give the two space, smiling as the pale man wrestled the dog in the snow, the happiest grin alight his face. The young woman approached, watching the two happily as well. “Mikhail, would you like some tea while they catch up?” He nodded and followed her into the townhome.
”Sure. Thank you.” Usually he wasn’t one for conversation with strangers, but this girl knew the pale man— Boris, before he was infected. He wanted to know everything. Stepping inside the house he noticed it was homely, well loved furniture protected by hand crocheted covers. Tatiana was already moving around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. He moved over to a small table in front of a window so he could watch his roommate. He chuckled, the visitor was running around with the dog on all fours, playfully tackling her before allowing her to chase him in return. ”It’s sweet isn’t it?” He turned to see Tatiana watching the two as well, looking very pleased with herself. She handed him a mug which he thanked her for, the young woman sitting across from him at the table. “He loves that dog more than anything.” He hummed and took a sip of tea. ”He’s mentioned her before, but he couldn’t remember what happened to her. Thank you for taking care of her.” ”Of course! It’s only fair, Boris looked out for me. I’m happy to return the favor.” He looked away from the window, focusing on Tatiana. ”If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about him? Boris has shared what he can remember, but I’m curious about what you know.” ”Sure,” she chirped, bright eyes shining. “Boris and I were coworkers as I’ve mentioned before. I started working long after he did, he was the only person no one would talk to. They would say ‘Oh Boris is an asshole, don’t bother. He ignores everyone.’ But he never did anything mean, he just kept to himself. So I would help him stock the shelves sometimes and just talk to him. I didn’t expect him to answer, I was just worried he might be lonely. Well I started to notice how he’d grimace when stocking certain items, it would aggravate his injury.” She motioned to her hand. “Because you know, his bad hand.” He set his tea down in concern. ”Bad hand?” ”Yeah, I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s his right hand. It hurts a lot more in the winter. I think the cold aggravates the injury.” He recalled the recent pain that had been aggravating the visitor, he had thought it stemmed from something temporary and would fade any day. But it sounded like this was something chronic. ”Do you know how he hurt it?” She shook her head. ”No, and the one time I brought it up he got really mad. I asked if he had been in an accident and he said all big and scary ‘this was no accident’ and didn’t talk to me for the rest of the shift. It’s a sore subject, okay?” He nodded. What did that mean? ”Anyway we worked together for a while, he never talked to me but I helped him with the items that hurt his hand and he helped me with the top shelf. Well one night I was so excited because it was my birthday! I wanted to go out for drinks and invited everyone in the store. Many of our coworkers were my age and had said they were going to go. I truly thought they
were my friends. The evening rolls around and I’m waiting at the bar. Did my hair, picked out a nice dress, and guess what?” ”What?” The woman leaned closer, tapping a nail on the table top. ”Not a single one of them showed. It really hurt. I had gone to their parties, hung out whenever they asked but not one of them came even after they promised. It was such a devastating feeling, sitting out there on the front steps all alone on my birthday. I broke down crying.” The girl leaned back a gentle smile on her face. ”Then Boris found me. He was just walking home, still had a grocery bag in his hand. I was embarrassed, tried to play it off but he must have suspected what had happened. He took me out for drinks, made me feel like a million bucks. He talked more that night than I ever heard since. Afterwards he invited me back to his apartment for dinner. I was scared he was hitting on me but he laughed and said ‘don’t worry I’m into men’ which you know,” she gestured to the homeowner. “Being his partner and all.” The homeowner choked, coughing violently at the girl's words. “We,” he hacked, eyes watering. “Are not together.” Tatiana blanched, eyes going wide. ”Oh— Oh my God I’m so sorry! Please forget what I said, Boris is very into women! He’s had so many girlfriends before, supermodels and actresses. No men, he hates them.” She looked like she was about to cry. He sighed and stopped her before she had a meltdown. She was worried he was going to do something to Boris over this information. ”Calm down. Boris and I are friends, I don’t care about people’s preferences. You can stop crying.” Tatiana looked so relieved, sniffling silently. ”Really?” ”Yes, I care about him and he’s done so much for me. That’s why I have been trying to learn all I can about him. Every time he remembers something new, I just,” he shrugged, hiding a smile behind his hand. “Can’t help it. He somehow gets more interesting.” He watched the big idiot through the window, waving a stick above his head for Anya. Tatiana was watching him, a small smile on her face. ”I’m really glad you two found each other. Boris is a really good guy. He’s kind of weird, but nice.” He snorted, attention back on the young woman. ”Weird? Why do you say that?” She set down her tea and waved her hands as she talked. ”Well I know he was drunk, but back at his apartment he ranted for an hour about how much he hated shoes. An. Hour. Said they were impractical. He also had this hang-up about cats, said they were the only animal born with dark hearts and complained about an old cat his mother used to have. It was pretty funny at the time.” He turned his head to hide his smile. So he was always odd? He found that charming. “He also plays piano, did you know that?” The homeowner nodded, taking another sip of his tea.
“He sings too.” He perked up, the girl smirking at his reaction. “He wrote a song for Anya. He played it for her and she howled along, it was so cute. That was the moment I knew Boris was a good guy. He made my birthday super special, honestly I’ll never forget it. Back at work he was still quiet but he looked out for me, we had each other's backs. That’s why that phone call was so scary.” ”Can you tell me about the phone call?” The girl frowned, rubbing her hands together for some warmth. ”Yeah. It was right when the cataclysm first started, before anyone really knew what was happening. Boris had left hours earlier, having worked the early shift. The store phone rang and I picked it up and Boris was on the other end breathing hard and ranting about someone chasing him. He kept saying it wasn’t human, it scared the shit out of me honestly. I told him to call the police but he stopped me, begged me to go get his dog Anya because he wasn’t sure what was going to happen to him. I told him to stop talking like that and to call the store as soon as he was safe and the line dropped. I went straight to his apartment after work, used the spare key he kept hidden in a fake plant and grabbed his dog. Then two days later his apartment burned down. I’ve had Anya since, waiting and hoping Boris would come back. I’m so relieved whatever was chasing him didn’t catch him, it was probably a visitor, you know?” She looked forlornly out the window. “I can tell the cataclysm was hard on him, he’s lost so much weight.” The mental image of Boris scared and alone as something inhuman pursued him, the guy unsure if he’d live to see his beloved dog again, upset him. He wished they could have met under better circumstances. At least fate had allowed them this time together. He couldn’t imagine losing the other now. He used to pray for the end, hoping every night that he laid down in that bed he wouldn’t wake in the morning. Now he looked forward to seeing Boris first thing when he woke up, enjoyed their morning coffee time together, and even when he was annoying the piss out of him he still wanted to kiss his stupid face. It was getting late, the homeowner standing after checking his watch. ”Tatiana, thank you so much. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.” The young girl stood beaming from ear to ear. ”Tanya. Any friend of Borik is a friend of mine!” He nodded. ”Thank you Tanya.” He slipped out of the townhome, the brisk winter air chilling his nose, Tatiana following shortly after. The visitor was lying on his back in the snow scratching Anya’s neck, the dog sitting upon his chest. He looked so content, cooing to the animal quietly. He wasn’t used to seeing the man’s tender side. Tatiana bent down and grinned at Boris. ”Ready to take her home?” His face fell instantly, a steely look in his eyes as he avoided the homeowner’s gaze. His stomach turned, he hadn’t thought about where the dog would stay after this. The visitor stood up, hunched and broken. “I can’t,” the visitor mumbled miserably. “It’s not my house.” Being this close to the animal already made him uneasy, but she was so important to the visitor. Boris hated his cat, yet he
had never asked him to get rid of him. He couldn’t ask that of the visitor. ”Boris, we’re taking her home. She’s your dog.” The pale man’s eyes snapped to his, wide with surprise. The pale man bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut. He watched him draw in three deep breaths before advancing towards him, yanking the homeowner into a bone crushing embrace. He groaned as the air was forced from his lungs. He was pretty sure his legs were dangling in the air now, the visitor fully holding him up as he nuzzled into his neck. ”Thank you Misha,” he whispered like a prayer. “Thank you thank you thank you.” He grunted, trying to pat the man’s back to calm him down. ”Okay big guy,” he wheezed. “Put me down.” The visitor gingerly lowered him back to the ground, pure wonder and adoration in his eyes. He had to look away, too overwhelmed by the other’s blatant show of affection. Boris turned to Tatiana with a small smile. ”I remember you now. Thank you Tanya. I owe you so much.” He gave her a one armed hug, the girl so small in his hold. ”I’m just so glad you’re okay, Borik. You really had me worried.” He waited as the young woman rounded up Anya’s supplies, loading the visitor down with toys, food, and fastening her leash to her collar. The dog was happily sitting at the visitor’s feet, so overjoyed to be reunited with her owner again that she hadn’t strayed from his side. The last thing Tatiana handed them was her phone number. ”Please keep in touch and call me if you need anything. You two are always welcome here.” The visitor took the slip of paper from the young woman, thanking her once more. The two set off towards the bus stop, the newest addition to their household trotting after them. Though the homeowner felt weary of the animal, he couldn’t help but feel that he had made the right call. Especially when he felt the visitor’s hand pull him flush against his side, that comforting rumble settling his nerves as they walked. The bus ride back was silent, but the pale man was pleased, scratching Anya’s ear as she rested her head in his lap. He stiffened when the dog turned her head to look at him, brown eyes twinkling under the fluorescent bus lights. ”Here Misha.” He reached for his hand, gently turning it over so his palm was face up. He must have felt him resist, running a thumb over his hand to settle him. “It’s okay. She would never hurt you. I trained her.” He grit his teeth but allowed the visitor to move his hand towards the dog. He turned his head when he felt her cold nose sniff his hand, fighting to push the unpleasant memories away. The homeowner focused instead on the cool touch of Boris’s hands on his own. “See? I’ve got you.” The dog had nuzzled into his hand, allowing the homeowner to pet her head. He finally looked over, relieved to see the dog calmly looking at him, slowly wagging her tail. The visitor was watching them both with pride, keeping his grip on the hermit’s for support. The homeowner was so relieved when he crossed over the front door’s threshold, ready to peel off his boots and relax. Today was a lot for him, the man’s social battery was absolutely drained. He glanced back at the pale man, who was shutting the door while setting the dog’s
supplies on the floor. Watching the two interact made the man smile, Anya sitting politely as Boris unhooked her leash and patted her head. Boris. The name suited him. He’d been saying it over and over to himself since Tatiana had first called out to him, wishing he had a good excuse to say it now. Was it stupid how absurdly happy he was to finally know it? A name to finally hold close to his heart, it made his feelings seem even more real. Speaking of which, didn’t he promise to confess once he got home? The homeowner clammed up at the thought, catching the visitor’s eye. He tilted his head, a silent question in his eyes. The homeowner loved it when he did that. He turned away, feeling flushed. No, he’d do it later. Perhaps during dinner. He would be brave. He didn’t confess during dinner. The dog lay napping at their feet, belly full and content. The conversation tonight was sparse but not uncomfortable, both enjoying a few moments of peace after such an eventful day. The homeowner watched the other, his guts churning in fear and anticipation. Do it. Just say something. The words got stuck in his throat. He looked down at his food in shame. He was nothing but a fucking coward. ”You can call me by any name and I will answer it. Mikhail, pale bastard, super visitor. It does not matter. If you call for me, no matter by what name, I will always answer. Because it is you.” The homeowner gripped his thigh to ground himself. Boris had said that days prior with so much feeling and conviction that it had overwhelmed him. There was nothing to be afraid of, so many signs were there. The words he spoke, his behavior, his actions. They all pointed towards Boris returning his feelings. He could do this. I can be brave. *** Today had been a rollercoaster of emotions for the pale man. He spent the entire morning convinced that the human was going to wake up, see the mark, and kick him out. But instead the man had acted like the whole thing never happened. Somehow that hurt more. To make things worse he was acting oddly, less touchy and closed off. He usually greeted him in the morning, a hand on his shoulder as he passed by to get to the coffee pot. This time he was silent. He didn’t talk for nearly the entire morning, a far away look in his eyes. When he finally did speak it was to invite him to visit Luka. He agreed despite the offer coming out of the blue. It made him weary, why now of all times? He had hoped that perhaps with time the homeowner would return to normal. But the other remained in a daze, nearly killing himself on a patch of ice on the street. Of course he caught him, he wouldn’t let any harm come to him if he could help it. But for a moment he genuinely thought the other was upset at him for helping, snapping at him for holding his arm.
In the end they made it to Luka’s, the visitor couldn’t help but glare at the cheerful fellow. If he could have gotten away with it he would have pressed him for answers right there, his human clearly not intending to give that information himself. By the time they all shuffled into the apartment the visitor was so stuck in his own head he wasn’t paying attention to most of the visit. Should he apologize to the human? He’d apologize a thousand times over if it made things right between them. The human must have seen the mark and regretted his actions, why else would he be acting like this? Yet the human had reached out to him, his touch tender and nervous. He had seriously thought he was imagining it at first, staring incredulously at those shaking digits. When he lost his nerve he reacted immediately, intertwining his fingers with the other. He watched the human relax, content for the rest of the visit. This only confused the visitor further, unsure of how the human felt now. As he waited outside the apartment with Luka, the other two humans far across the yard near the dumpsters, the other spoke up. ”How’ve you been holding up?” He gave the man a venomous look, so severe the other lifted his hands in surrender. “Hey hey, woah now. Whatever you think is going on, that’s not happening. You and I are in the same boat.” He narrowed his eyes at the other, fighting the urge to shake him down for the truth. ”How are we ‘in the same boat’?” The cheerful man gave a pained smile despite the animosity in his words. ”We are both in love with our roommates.” His posture shifted immediately, going from aggressive to confused. ”What?” How could he know that? This human barely knew him. “How—“ ”I could tell the first time we met. I’m pretty good at reading these kind of things.” Apparently better than the visitor, he didn’t even know the nature of those feelings at the time. The cheerful man continued. “The way you look at Misha, care for him, light up in his presence. I feel that way about Yesenin.” The visitor glanced over at the tall man in the distance. He couldn’t see what Luka saw in the somber guy. It must have shown on his face because Luka was suddenly laughing. “Come on, is it really that unbelievable?” He almost nodded because yes, yes it was. They were polar opposites. He remembered hearing Luka uplift others in the house, giving hope and comfort. Yesenin was a wreck. He spent that time yelling about the sorry state of the world and drinking his sorrows. Luka’s voice grabbed his attention once more. “We’ve been through a lot together. The cataclysm… that was the worst thing either of us had ever experienced before. But it was a comfort to have him by my side through it all. Sure he can be pessimistic, but he’s also incredibly thoughtful. He enjoys being a part of the community and is the first to give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. And he likes to write poetry. It’s actually quite beautiful.” The pale man looked at him in distrust.
”Why are you telling me this?” Luka stepped closer, his smile dropping slightly. ”Because I can tell you’re hurting. It’s a look I’m all too familiar with. Loving someone and not knowing how they feel in return, it’s torture. Figured it would be nice to know you’re not alone.” ”I don’t need your sympathy.” ”And yet you have it. Sorry.” He shot another glare at the human. “Though, promise me you won’t give up.” He wanted to tell the other to stop talking to him. Take his promises and shove it up his ass. But this was a friend of his human, so he remained silent. What did put him at ease was knowing at least one thing: Luka and Misha were not seeing each other romantically for these secret meetings. That alone brightened his mood, smiling softly to his human out of instinct when he returned with Yesenin. Misha looked worked up while the tall man sported a smug grin. He was afraid to ask about it. The visitor had been thankful to leave, wanting to put as much distance as possible between the two humans and himself. He didn’t like that they could read him so well. And then there was Anya. Words could not describe how much it moved him that the human allowed her into his home. He felt complete, both of his favorite beings now under one roof. How he wanted to shower the human in his affection, show the man how much he loved and adored him. But the human was still behaving strangely. Staring one moment, averting his eyes the next. Walking up to him like he had something to say before turning back around, shoulders hunched. His face was so reserved, even the tiny tells he had grown used to over the past months were not helping. It hurt to admit, but he couldn’t tell what the other was thinking right now. And it was driving him crazy. *** He gripped the bathroom sink, feeling the shittiest he’d felt in a long time. The homeowner didn’t confess. He wasn’t brave. He was a pitiful sniveling coward that couldn’t handle his own emotions like a fucking child. He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands until it hurt, using the pain as a distraction. He really needed to cut his hair, he couldn’t bear to look even more like that man. The homeowner forced himself to suck in a deep breath, trying to release some of the residual tension in his shoulders. He could hear the visitor moving through the house, now accompanied by the sound of paw pads. Somehow the sound calmed him. He knew it would take time, but he was sure he would get used to Anya eventually. The animal seemed more stable than his dad’s old hound, which used to watch him with haunting eyes. And Boris was so happy now, shooting him little grateful smiles all evening. Now it was too late, he had missed his chance to confess. Night had fallen, the visitor was already getting ready for bed. The man rubbed at his face in exhaustion. He wanted to charge in there, grab his stupidly infuriating face and tell him how much he meant to him, how badly he wanted him, and how ridiculously attractive he was. But even just the thought of doing that made his heart beat
erratically, breath coming out in short bursts. If Luka was here he’d tell him it’s okay to take his time, that he didn’t have to rush this. Wait until he was ready. But he was ready! This feeling in his chest fucking sucked, for God’s sake sometimes looking at Boris for too long caused him actual physical pain. It felt like someone was constantly crushing his chest, or that his insides had been hollowed out. If he waited any longer he’d die from the stress of it. He was past fucking butterflies and bashful looks, he needed this man to slam him against a wall and kiss him until he couldn’t think straight. Oh the things he wanted Boris to do to him… The homeowner looked up at his reflection, tired green eyes looking back at him. If he could prove the kiss from last night was real, would that change anything? He closed his eyes and tried to separate dreams from reality. They had been talking and drinking on the couch, the visitor had asked about the scar on his brow. That much he knew for sure. But the rest was so hazy, bordering on a drunken fever dream. The homeowner had leaned forward and kissed him, and he had definitely kissed him back, so fiercely he had trouble keeping up. Then the visitor had undressed him, cool hands running along his body. Things took a heated turn that most definitely did NOT happen because his knees would have been sore as hell when he woke up. And that was another thing. He had woken up in his bed, tucked under the covers and in his sleep wear. So it had to have been a dream right? The homeowner must have cut the game short, gone to bed, and had another wet dream. His face fell, a hopeless feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe another night, he told himself as he reached up to scratch at his neck. He froze. There was a mark peeking out from his turtleneck. The homeowner yanked the collar down with way more force than necessary. He choked as he looked it over. That was not only the biggest hickey he had ever seen in his life but there was no denying this came from the visitor. He could see where his teeth broke the skin, splotchy purple and red marks painting the areas around. His breathing quickened. The kiss was real. He was moving before he could properly think, finger still hooked onto his collar. He stopped in the living room doorway, the visitor turning as he approached. Then the man’s eyes locked onto the exposed mark, eyes darkening. For a moment they both just stood there, the silence suffocating. The homeowner finally found his voice, taking a step closer into the room. ”It was real?” The visitor’s gaze was calculating. ”Yes,” he spoke, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The visitor was tense, hands twitching at his sides. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He was hurt, put off by the visitor’s lack of reaction. Oh God was this a rejection? No, be brave, he could do this, he could— ”Then why?” He forced another step forward, fighting to keep the tremor out of his voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Something flickered across the visitor’s face but he recovered, the hermit unable to read him.
”What do you want me to say?” The homeowner stopped breathing, the edges of the room going dim. He had been right all along. He misread him. The visitor wasn’t human… he couldn’t count on the same cues as a person. How could he have been so fucking stupid? He knew this would happen, he fucking knew it and he still tricked himself into thinking there was something more— The homeowner gasped, back suddenly slamming into the wall, the visitor’s face inches from his own. His legs were suspended by his hands, the pale man was completely supporting him. He was trapped. ”Don’t look at me like that Misha,” he hissed, his voice strained. “Don’t look at me like I broke your heart.” The visitor groaned, dropping his head into the crook of his neck. His entire body was trembling. “You’re tearing me apart. One second you’re kissing me, the next you’re acting like it never happened. Then you…” His fingers were digging into his thighs now, pressing his body impossibly closer. “You brought Anya home.” His voice was wrecked. ”Misha,” he whined, a raw desperation in the sound. A hand was trailing up his side but stopped, cool fingers twitching against his skin. “You have to tell me what you want. I’ll give it all, you can have me— I’m already yours. Please, I can’t read you—“ The homeowner fisted dark hair and pulled him away from his neck, slamming his lips into the visitor’s. He poured everything he had into the kiss, praying, begging that the man understood. He couldn’t use his words, his brain was no longer working. Apparently this was something the pale man could grasp, slotting their lips together and licking into his mouth hungrily. Those hands were moving again, one sliding up his stomach while the other moved to his ass. The homeowner couldn’t help the sound that tore from his throat, the visitor swallowing it down greedily. If he thought that the kiss was overwhelming, then it was about to get a lot more intense when the visitor started rolling his hips. Misha pulled away with a gasp, head thudding back against the wall. He was pretty sure he was seeing stars, clinging onto the visitor’s shoulders for dear life. “Sl-slow down— Ah!” The man was fixated on his neck again, sucking and licking new marks under the homeowner’s jaw. He hummed in acknowledgement and slowed his movements down, allowing the homeowner a moment to catch his breath. God he was painfully hard right now, boxers already wet with precome. But he wasn’t the only one, the visitor’s excitement slotted perfectly against his own. He bit his lip in an attempt to hold the sounds back, a moan threatening to break loose when a thumb brushed against his nipple. He glared down at the visitor who was watching his reactions with a smirk, pupils blown. ”So beautiful,” he growled, pressing more firmly against the sensitive bud as he squirmed. “So perfect.” ”Shut the fuck up Borya,” he hissed. The visitor responded with another languid roll of his hips, a string of curses falling from the homeowner’s lips.
”I like when you say my name. Say it again.” The homeowner grit his teeth trying to be stubborn just to cry out when the visitor pinched at his chest. He never realized the area was so sensitive, jerking when he rolled the bud between his fingers. Suddenly a firm grip on his jaw forced him to look at the visitor, hooded eyes laced with arousal. ”Miiisha,” he taunted, fingers tightening on his jaw. The hand that had been focusing on his chest was now sliding slowly downwards, his stomach jumping and flinching from the featherlight touches. His fingers stopped above the bulge in his jeans, the touch too light to bring any pleasure but just enough to drive him crazy. “Say my name in that pretty voice of yours,” He purred, tracing his thumb over his erection. God dammit this fucking bastard— “Borya!” He cried, back arching off the wall, the visitor cupping him firmly with a grin. The visitor palmed at his front, clearly enjoying the sounds it drew out of the human. Oh he wasn’t going to last much longer. No. He refused to end this here. ”My bed. Now.” The smile slipped from the visitor’s face, eyes flashing dangerously. Everything within the next few seconds was a blur, the visitor tossing him over his shoulder and practically kicking the bedroom door down. His back hit the mattress with a thud. The visitor wasted no time, the bed dipping under his weight as he crawled over him. His eagerness was cute, the homeowner couldn’t help but cradle his face and pull him close. Their lips met once more, a pleased rumble bubbling up from the visitor’s throat. Kissing him felt so right, heat pooling pleasantly in his core. It felt like finally, after all these years of suffering and loneliness, seeing the light for the first time. His touch brought comfort, cool hands slipping under his shirt and gripping his back, pushing the homeowner’s chest up into his own. If only there wasn’t the fabric separating them. He shivered, fantasizing of what the skin contact would feel like facing each other like this. The visitor broke the kiss with a purr, licking a long stripe up the homeowner’s face. He sputtered, not expecting the odd action. ”The hell are you—“ his voice died off, noticing his tongue. He flushed, jaw snapping shut. That was not human. The visitor grinned at his reaction, long tongue snaking further out of his mouth. His breathing picked up when his sweater was pushed to reveal his chest, the pale man trailing wet kisses and licks down his body. He jerked when he felt his tongue swipe against his nipple, a hand massaging the other. He felt him circle it with his tongue before closing his lips over and sucking, the homeowner crying out from the sensation. He was trembling now, the visitor milking more and more reactions from his sensitive body. God when was the last time someone touched him like this? He couldn’t remember. Then those torturous kisses trailed downwards, mapping a trail across his ribs, his stomach, and the hollow of his hip. His breathing was labored, trying to prop himself up enough to see what the visitor was doing, the other settling between his legs with a lazy grin. He felt the button of his pants being popped open, long fingers hooking into his waistband and pulling the garment down. The wet spot in his boxers was embarrassing, the outline of his erection obvious.
”Ah!” The fucker didn’t even give him time to think, no warning before mouthing at him, only the thin fabric separating him from his wicked tongue. He bucked up involuntarily, another cry tearing from his throat, legs closing around the visitor’s head out of reflex. The man didn’t seem to mind being trapped, he looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be. He must have been squirming too much, one of the pale man’s found his hip bone and pinned him to the mattress, the grip firm and unyielding. His boxers were soaked now, both from pre and the man’s saliva. It was making him lose his mind, the contact was too much and not enough at the same time. He almost wept when he felt his erection spring free, heated skin meeting the cool air. The visitor’s eyes met his own, holding his gaze as he licked at the tip. He hissed from the action, feeling all the blood rushing down south. His skin may be cool to the touch but his mouth was still warm. The only warning he got was the grin on the other’s face, a spark in his eyes that meant he was about to do something. His long tongue swirled around his shaft, covering it from base to tip before sucking it down to the root in one go, swallowing around his cock. ”FUCK!” He nearly came right then, arching off the bed so hard the visitor had to use both hands to keep him in place. “Don’t— ah— Don’t you fucking move!” His hands were fisted in raven hair, trying to keep the bastard still. The homeowner trying not to come within ten seconds, he’d kill himself from the shame if he did. The visitor found this amusing, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile since his mouth was occupied. When it didn’t feel like he was seconds away from ruin he relented, easing up on the pressure he had on the man’s head. The visitor took that as a sign to move, drawing back before slurping him down once again. The sounds were sinful, the homeowner so overwhelmed he had to squeeze his eyes shut and try to control his ragged breathing. He couldn’t last, his orgasm was barreling towards him like an oncoming train. He tried to give him a warning, pulling weakly at his hair. ”Close,” was all he could choke out, voice absolutely wrecked. The other man didn’t pull away though, instead he doubled his efforts, quickening his movements. “Shit!” he keened, an embarrassing whine clawing from his throat as he writhed, white hot pleasure shooting through his body as he came. The visitor didn’t pull away, swallowing it all down happily. The homeowner was getting overstimulated, pushing at the visitor’s face to release him. Thankfully he withdrew with a pop, lips wet and eyes glazed. The homeowner was so focused on trying to pull ragged breaths into his lungs he didn’t notice the visitor crawl back to him until he felt his face press into the hollow of his neck. ”Mishenka,” he whimpered, fingers digging into his sides, teetering on the border of being painful. He shuddered at the nickname, fisting the back of his shirt to steady himself. When they were like this their height difference was so much more obvious, the visitor looming over his body. He could feel the other was still hard, pressing insistently against him. “I need you, all of you. Need you so bad.” He was kissing his skin again, uncoordinated and wet. “Please—“ He sucked another mark onto his neck. “Please be mine, all mine.” His cock twitched at his words, already starting to
get hard again. The homeowner swallowed thickly. He knew what Boris wanted. He wanted it too. The words came easy, no longer held back by fear or shame. ”You can have me, I’m yours.” What he hadn’t expected was how violently the visitor would react to that. He ripped the sweater open with his hands, eyes clouded with desire. ”Woah, hey!” He cried, the ruined garment nothing more than loose threads and ragged cloth. “Don’t tear my clothes—“ ”I’ll buy you a hundred more,” the visitor promised, licking his cheek. He was already pulling at his pants, he could tell he was about to rip those as well. He pushed him back by his chest, the visitor whining from the loss. ”Stop, calm down!” He glared at the visitor who seemed to be struggling to keep it together. In a way it was flattering to see him this worked up. “Take your clothes off— And don’t rip them!” He had barely saved the other’s outfit in time, the last thing he wanted to do was go clothing shopping after this. While the visitor clawed his sweater over his head the homeowner removed his own pants and boxers before he could destroy those too. It had been a while since he had seen the pale man topless, he had changed a lot over the past few months. He had gained weight, probably from having a reliable source of food instead of having to hunt and scavenge constantly. His skin was still loose in places, but he didn’t look so much like a starved corpse. Healthy weight, lean muscle, a normal skin color. He had been practically grey before, bones jutting out in all angles. The pale man still had some unnerving features but at a quick glance you wouldn’t guess he was a visitor. He had a feeling the infection changed him in certain ways, his body would never be the same as it was before when he was human. But this didn’t make him any less appealing to the homeowner, his body physically reacting to his naked form. The visitor struggled with his pants, the homeowner had to bite back a laugh. It would not be appreciated right now. ”Here.” The homeowner shuffled closer, pushing his hands away and hooking his fingers into his waistband. The visitor shuddered above him, hot breath panting in his ear. If he was being honest, he was actually pretty nervous. Sure he was no blushing virgin, he had been married and had girlfriends before. But this was all new to him, the homeowner had never been with another man. He had an idea of what to expect, such things were whispered behind closed doors back in high school. Things as taboo as how two men could have sex were fascinating to pent up and rebellious teenagers. He supposed he was about to see how accurate those rumors were. He stiffened when he unzipped his pants. ”Uh… Why aren’t you wearing underwear?” He felt the pale man smile against the shell of his ear. ”I don’t have any.” The homeowner blushed furiously, realizing what that meant.
”You mean… this entire time?” God he really was fucking stupid wasn’t he? He literally did the laundry every day. How had he never noticed that out of all the boxers he washed, none of them belonged to the pale man? He was shaken out of his stupor when the visitor mouthed at his ear, a deep rumble sounding from his chest. Cool hands found their place on his hips, blunt nails digging firmly into the skin. ”Mishenka. Please.” It was spoken curtly, as if the man was losing his patience. He snapped out of the daze he was in and pulled down his waistband, the visitor’s cock finally free. The homeowner fought against both fear and arousal. While it was one thing to fantasize about being bent over and fucked hard it was another to actually do it. God he was going to break him, wasn’t he? But the visitor was murmuring words of encouragement in his ear, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his heated skin. “So perfect. My human. All mine.” It was embarrassing how much the praise affected him, his breath stuttering unevenly from his lungs. It spurred him on, giving him the courage to take him in hand. He groaned when the visitor tightened his grip, the other hissing in his ear and shaking. He will surely bruise from this tomorrow. He knew what he liked, praying the other would find his efforts satisfactory. The homeowner used his thumb to press into the head, spreading the other’s precome around the tip. That seemed to draw a good reaction, the visitor cursing and bucking into his hand. Oh he could see the appeal of this, every little movement drawing shuddering gasps and sounds from the pale man, that hot feeling in his core building alongside his partner’s. He sped up his movements, twisting his wrist just when he reached the head. The visitor growled right into his ear, the sound going straight to his cock. The pale man’s throat was exposed to him, having dropped his head against his shoulder at one point. The visitor was obsessed with his neck, constantly kissing, licking, and biting at it. Would he like that too? He leaned forward and pressed an open mouth kiss to the exposed flesh, nipping firmly when he heard the other groan. His shoulders hit the mattress so hard it dazed him, a very disheveled pale man panting above him. The homeowner worried he did something wrong. Did he not like that? A low rumble was coming from the visitor, inhuman and dangerous. ”None of that now, Sunbeam,” he kicked his pants off the rest of the way, the garment falling somewhere onto the floor. “Keep it up and I won’t last.” His heart jumped from the nickname. Was that what he was going to call him now? The homeowner had never been overly fond of pet names before, usually drawing the line at Mishenka, but he found he didn’t mind this one. Those long fingers were wrapping around his thighs, pulling them apart. He fought the instinct to close his legs, embarrassed to be in such a vulnerable position. Perhaps that showed on his face because the visitor was leaning forward, peppering little kisses across his temple, his cheeks, his jaw as if to erase those feelings. He couldn’t help the surge of affection that bloomed from that, turning and connecting their lips once more. He could taste himself on his tongue, somehow that didn’t disgust him. Rather the opposite. He could get drunk on his kisses, pulling him flush against his body.
The contact was amazing, he didn’t care that the man wasn’t the same temperature as his own. He could feel every breath he took, the weight of another body impossibly comforting to him. Now that he had him like this he was never letting go. If he was ‘his human’ then Boris was his visitor. When he felt those hands drift lower he pulled away, apprehension returning. “Wait,” he reached blindly into the nightstand next to him, praying that after all these years that bottle was still hidden somewhere in its depths. He felt the familiar cap and pulled it out, hesitantly offering it to the pale man. His chest was feeling tight, despite how badly he wanted this he was in uncharted territory. And that was frightening. ”Do you know what you’re doing?” He asked, hating the way his voice betrayed his underlying worries. The pale man took the bottle, pressing another kiss to his temple. ”Yes.” Somehow that allowed him to let out a breath he had been holding. ”That makes one of us.” He could feel the other’s quiet laugh rather than hear it. The visitor spread his legs even wider, settling into the space between. When he heard the cap open his hand grabbed at the other’s shoulder desperately, a little panic seeping into his voice. “I’ve never done this before, please be careful.” The pale man’s eyes softened before nuzzling into his neck. He jumped when he felt something wet gently circling his entrance. ”I would never hurt you Mishenka.” He stiffened out of reflex when he felt the first finger ease its way in. The visitor was purring again, his other hand rubbing little circles into his hip. The homeowner bit his lip. “Relax, Sunbeam. I’ve got you.” He turned his head away, overwhelmed at the moment, which he should have known would invite the visitor to start claiming any unabused flesh as his own. His gentle bites and kisses were a good distraction for him though, he felt himself loosen up from his efforts. While the sensation was odd it didn’t hurt, the visitor taking his time working him open. It wasn’t until the second finger was added that he started feeling uncomfortable. The visitor talked him through it, murmuring more encouragement and words of praise into his ear as he took those fingers even deeper, scissoring him open. The discomfort thankfully began to fade. He was just about to settle back down when the man’s fingers brushed up against something. ”Ah— fuck!” He jerked, gripping the pale man’s shoulder hard. He was just about to ask what the hell that was when the other smiled into his skin. ”There you are.” The angle of his wrist changed so that he was hitting that spot every time, the homeowner convulsing as breathing became more difficult. Oh God, what was that? One firm press had him practically seeing stars, hips rolling down to meet those wicked fingers. The visitor was definitely enjoying this in more ways than one, he could feel his cock leaking against where he was pressed against his thigh. When the pale man added the third finger he held onto his shoulders for dear life. He nearly sobbed. This was amazing and awful at the same time. That white hot pleasure was building, but it was like he couldn’t bring himself over the edge. The stimulation wasn’t enough, his erection boarding on painful. ”Please!” He gasped, rolling his hips down onto his fingers. “Not enough… Haah… I-I can’t —“ He felt those fingers withdraw, whining from the loss. Anger swelled up, delirious from
how close he had been. “The fuck are you going? Don’t stop—“ He shut up when he felt something else prodding his entrance. The visitor seemed amused. ”So fiery. I love that about you.” He groaned, the stretch far more than his fingers had been. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, but it was uncomfortable and foreign. Fuck! This was so overwhelming already and he wasn’t even halfway in. His body was on fire, fingers digging into the visitor’s back. That made the other moan, pressing further in. He bit his lip, trying to choke down shameful noises. The pale man was urging him to relax, but it was hard when he was so out of it. He felt him bottom out, hips flush against his ass. The pale man remained still, though it seemed difficult for him. He was shaking, eyes squeezed shut and fingers bruising his hips. The homeowner watched him from where he lay, pulling one ragged breath after the other. He was inside him. That alone sent a whole new wave of arousal to his core. The feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, an impossible fullness in the most intimate way. He wanted to see it, propping himself up on one shaky elbow. The movement made the visitor hiss but he remained in place, trying to let him get used to the feeling. The sight affected him, clenching involuntarily around the intrusion which earned a curse from the man over him. Apparently that was the straw that broke the camel's back because now the visitor was begging. ”Please please tell me I can move, I need you— wanted this for sooo long.” He groaned when the visitor rolled his hips, still firmly inside. “Finally together, like we always should have been,” he dragged his nails down his sides, the visitor slowly losing control. “Finally mine, perfect for me.” Goddamnit his words were driving him up the wall just as much as his touch was. Part of him wondered how long he had wanted this. Since he first moved in? Or maybe even during the cataclysm… The image of the visitor breaking down the door but instead of taking him away fucking him right on the doorstep had him writhing. His patience was wearing thin too, cock throbbing painfully against his stomach. This wasn’t going to be gentle, was it? The visitor looked two seconds from cracking, he should have known he’d be this needy. Well might as well add some fuel to the fire. The homeowner grabbed the back of his neck, forcing the other to look at him when he gave the command. “Boris. Move.” The visitor lost it. He withdrew only to slam back in, setting a brutal pace. ”Shit!” The homeowner scrabbled at the other’s back as he fucked him, blunt nails clawing at pale skin. The feeling was overwhelming, his thrusts jolting his entire body. The visitor gave a desperate whine, burying his face into his neck and pulling him closer by his shoulders, arms tucked under his back. The position change drove him deeper than before. He grit his teeth, he wanted him to go even further. He wanted to feel this in the morning, know that this wasn’t a dream. He couldn’t go back to before, not after experiencing this; feeling like someone gave a fuck about him. Loved.
He sobbed, the homeowner wrapping his legs around the other and digging his heels in. There was a tongue lapping at his face, the homeowner didn’t care if the action was odd. He liked how strange the other man was. He screamed when he brushed against that spot, the pale man altering his angle so he was hitting it every single thrust. Liquid hot pleasure was building in his core, his climax building faster and stronger than before. He wasn’t going to last, especially when that bastard started talking. ”Tell me again Mishenka.” A hand slithered down to his weeping cock, tearing another cry from his throat. “Tell me who you belong to.” His brain was so murky he couldn’t even put up a fight. ”Yours! I’m yours!” He was rewarded, the visitor moving his hand in time with his thrusts. Now he was teetering over the edge, fighting against his release with all his strength. “Bor— Haah! Borya,” he gasped, hips bucking in the visitor’s hold. “M’ gonna—“ He thumbed the slit, the homeowner’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck! I’m gonna—“ his voice cut-off, unable to form coherent sentences anymore. The visitor was purring into his ear. ”Then come, love.” His release tore through him violently, back arching off the mattress as he screamed. His vision went white, head full of static. His words, that was what sent him over the edge. It took him a while to come down from that high, the only thing he could do was gasp for air. Slowly, the room was coming back into focus. He fought against his exhaustion, feeling boneless at the moment. He crinkled his nose when he saw his stomach, he had made a mess all over himself. A hand gently cradled his face, forcing his tired gaze to his visitor. He was wearing both a pleased and pained expression. ”Sunbeam,” he cooed, an underlying neediness laced within. Oh. He could feel the problem. He was still hard, buried to the hilt inside of him. “I know you’re tired.” Boris was shaking, showing more restraint than he thought possible. “I’m so close, may I?” He was gripping at his sides, waiting for his decision. The homeowner blinked for a moment. He was giving him the choice? Oh he could be so mean right now. Get him back for destroying not one but two of his favorite sweaters. But he wouldn’t, against all odds he was quite fond of his visitor. He earned this. The homeowner reached up, threading his fingers into damp dark hair. “Go ahead. I’m ready.” The visitor beamed at him, kissing him deeply as he chased his release. The homeowner did what he could to help him, meeting his thrusts and nibbling at his shoulders which the other seemed to really enjoy by his sounds. True to his word he didn’t last very long, movements growing uncoordinated and sloppy. The visitor practically folded him in half when he came, warmth flooding his insides. The homeowner writhed weakly, the new feeling wrenching a third orgasm from the man. A heavy weight settled above him, the visitor’s strength giving out. The only sounds for a while were the two men’s labored breathing, the pale man holding him close despite being sweaty and gross. ”Mm’ so happy,” the visitor slurred, pressing a kiss to his temple. The tenderness in the action made the homeowner’s chest ache fondly. “Mishenka.” He could tell he was just playing with his name again, liking how it sounded in his voice.
”If you keep saying that I’m going to start calling you Boriska.” He had meant to embarrass him. He hadn’t expected the visitor to sit up and look down at him like he hung the moon and stars. ”Can you?” He swiped at his face, shaking his head. ”You’re impossible.” He winced when the visitor finally pulled out, a wetness pooling between his thighs. Any other time he would have been disgusted and immediately gone and taken a shower. But he was so spent, allowing the visitor to wipe him down and pull him flush against him. His eyes slipped closed, cheek pressed against a pale chest. He smiled when that familiar rumble lured him to sleep. No nightmares would terrorize him tonight, held lovingly in his visitor’s arms.
Chapter 8: Separate Ways Chapter Summary The homeowner adjusts to his new relationship learning more about the pale man every day. Things get complicated when a familiar face appears in the daily newspaper. Chapter Notes Sorry for the long wait, this chapter’s length would have been over 50,000 words! So I decided to split it into two. Also I wrote most of this on vacation. I spent two weeks off to work on this and I hope you enjoy. For some reason my brain has been extra self- conscious for this chapter, but I have been told I’m too mean to myself. Thank you for reading and enjoy! ”Someday love will find you” See the end of the chapter for more notes The homeowner groaned, the morning light assaulting his tired eyes. It looked like he forgot to close the curtains last night. The first thing he noted was how warm he was despite the chill in the air. It took him a moment to realize he was pressed up against someone and even longer to realize he was naked. Panic surged through him, nearly falling off the bed before memories of last night came rushing back. His breathing steadied as he fought to calm himself down, recognition lighting up his features. This wasn’t a stranger in his room. This was someone he cherished above all else. Shaking fingers reached out to touch pale skin, just to make sure he was actually there. His hand flattened across the other’s chest, a steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips. Boris was still here, he had chosen to stay with him. That alone brought a sense of calm to the homeowner. He couldn’t help but stare openly at him, so close that he could make out the gentle twitches of his brows as he dreamt, too caught up in watching the other to look anywhere else. His hair was getting longer, black bangs falling over one eye and sticking up haphazardly around his ears. He wondered if he’d trust him enough to trim it, his hair had always been a source of interest to him. It would give him an excuse to run his fingers through it again. When the visitor was like this his expression was so soft and open. Even in sleep he was clingy; the pale man was still holding him, their legs hopelessly tangled together. Laying here like this was so comforting yet strange. There was a part of him that felt he didn’t deserve this, that at any moment the illusion would shatter and this would all slip through his fingers