Alright, sooo where to begin. I actually had a lot of this chapter written in May before my computer uh-had some bad problems. Staples was supposed to back up all my files before rebooting my computer. Somehow a bunch of loose files didn't make it through the back-up system and the third chapter to TCC was one of the lost casualties. (not to mention my final script for my writing course) The lesson in this is to always back up your files yourself I guess. Anyway, this rewrite of the chapter is completely different than what I had written in the original but it still came out pretty good. I know it's a dialogue heavy chapter but I hope you might enjoy the little clues I injected into this chapter. I tried to make everything here have a purpose on one level or another.
Sexual content advisory-If your not old enough to read such where you are: Don't read it.
This story is Copyright 2010, Drake Startrick. This story may not be used anywhere without consent by the author.
TCC-Chapter 3
The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. On and on, no matter how hard he pressed his hands over his ears it was no good. Hadn't he seen this boy on TV or something? Grant was sure he was familiar. "Oof!" he grunted as oxygen was forced out of him from impact with a tree from behind. Or maybe it was from the shock wave vibration that had pushed him into the tree? Grant didn't know, but he was sure if he had been a normal human those vibrations would have ruptured his organs and blown out his ear drums by now. And he, Rodden, and Hollick agreed-they still might. Grant had to do something fast, his vision was already clouding and he was relying more and more on Hollick and Rodden's guidance to keep him alive. But even that, he could barely focus on their voices in his head. They could be shouting for him to get up-all he heard was muffled words and that unending ringing. Looking up, he was able to make out the form of the other boy, warping and winding less and less a part of Grant's consciousness. Finally, this close to the Challenger's face he recognized it. Not from TV but YT. The guy had his own tube account online. He'd seen a video featured on the main page. The guy was talented, Grant had thought, pretty young and still high pitched but talented. Now Grant wondered if his talent had something to do with his contract.
<Doesn't matter> the stream of words fluttered delicately through Grant's brain <a contract is for life, so the talent is for life.> Grant wasn't sure why he was thinking about this now, his own life was possibly about to expire if he didn't think of something fast. The blonde boy standing over him slowly crouched down to Grant's eye level. He stared at Grant, his mouth open and Grant wasn't sure if he was still in reality or if he was hallucinating. Deep inside his challenger's mouth, his throat tissue wasn't just vibrating, it appeared to be moving. It seemed to be wiggling, shapes appearing and disappearing like sections of an orchestra being prompted or silenced. The boy's throat in itself was so otherworldly that Grant was hypnotized by it's strange dance.
And then the tissue calmed all at once. Entranced, Grant hadn't realized that the ringing in his ears had stopped-although his body was still convulsing like he'd just been in an earthquake. The young Challenger waited until Grant's eyes focused again, then stared right into them, holding his gaze. Grant felt something dragging across his upper lip and under his nose. The Challenger smiled before bringing his right hand up for Grant to see-blood smeared the boy's fingers. "I just wanted you to know," the Challenger whispered, "these next notes are the last you'll ever hear." As the siren boy opened his mouth, Grant didn't think he just reacted. He bit down hard on his cheek until he was sure he tasted the salty flavor inside and then jerked forward, placing his lips over his executioner's own and jamming his tongue out. The other boy shouted through the kiss, startled and confused. Quickly, the Challenger jarred back to a standing position and shouted "Ahh! Gross you got your blood in my mouth!" In the next moment he felt his back slam into a tree trunk. There was little breath left in his lungs now and his midsection felt crumpled. He looked down and saw Grant rubbing his head, then twist-a blurry shape- and his world went black.
"'Night, JB," Grant muttered.
"Who's JB?"
"Huh?" Grant looked up startled. He was back in class. Had he fallen asleep? When?
"Who's JB?" a tall boy about Grant's age repeated, hovering over him.
"No one. Just a memory, Harver. Was I asleep?" Grant replied, blinking until his eyes adjusted to the light.
"You were so cute, drooling there on the desk," Harver chuckled as he mussed his shaggy, coffee colored hair, "although it did get kinda weird when you started jabbing your tongue out and wagging it around like you were trying to stab somebody with it."
"Shut up!" Grant said rubbing the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand. Subconsciously he drew his hand back again under his nose-but it was dry. "Why do you keep messing with your hair?" he asked Harvenn, noticing for the first time.
"Tried to gel my hair this morning, got windy on the way to school, now it's stuck looking like Robert Pattison's hair no matter how much I mess with it," Harver replied sounding frustrated, "you got a comb on you?"
"Nope. What's a matter? Don't like looking like a movie star?" teased Grant.
"Uggh, no. You know I hate mister pasty sparkles. I'm afraid I'm gonna punch the first girl who tries to recruit me to her Twi-hard club in the face." He jabbed the air in front of him with a fist.
"Where is everybody?" Grant asked, looking at the empty classroom.
"Class is over dude. I can't believe you slept through the lunch bell, it's like right outside the classroom. Come on let's go before the cafeteria closes," Harver motioned for Grant to follow as he walked toward the door.
"Allright," agreed Grant. He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and headed out.
"So was it a boy or a girl?" Harver asked as they walked out the door.
"Who?" Grant asked confused.
"That JB character you were dreaming about," said Harver, nudging Grant in the side with his elbow. "Was he-she hot?"
"I hate you," Grant said flatly.
"I can't help it," grinned Harver, "comes with the Best Friend gig."
Grant sat across from Harver at one of the cafeteria tables. They always ate together-even now when Grant really wouldn't gain any nutrients from such an activity. It wasn't about the practicality or to keep up appearances. It was about tradition. Best friends sitting together at lunch. Grant had known Harver since second grade and next to Sayla, Harver was his oldest friend. So deep was this bond that Grant often wondered why he didn't confess his contract to his friend. He would sometimes consider this possibility for hours at a time before always coming to the same conclusion-the less he knew the safer he was. Harver could be curious at times and Grant didn't want to give him any reason to dig his own grave.
"Hey guys, what up?" Sayla greeted Grant and Harver as she set her tray down next to theirs. Sayla would join the two boys on occasion, but she spent most of her lunches in the art studio working on projects. She sat down close to Grant. Really close. "Nice vampire doo, Harver," she laughed.
"Say Robert Pattison and you die," Harver shot back.
"Is that why you keep running you fingers through your hair?" She asked knowingly.
"It just won't change shape," groaned Harver. "Y'think if I use this fork I can comb it out like that mermaid Disney movie?" he asked picking up the white, pronged utensil and eyeing it with hope.
"I think that cheap plastic fork would lose in a fight with that mess of hair of yours," replied Sayla. She dug into her backpack for a second and then produced a small black object. "Here, use my comb. Wash it off before you return it, huh?"
Harver's face brightened as he took the comb. "Oh dude, thanks Sayla your a life saver!" He quickly started digging the teeth into his hair. "So how's that painting of yours going?" he asked conversationally.
"It's going. Should be done by the end of the week actually." She replied.
"How do you you know when it'll be done?" Grant asked. "I thought you said you couldn't even tell what it was you were painting."
"Oooh, paradoxical," joked Harver, now vigorously combing out his hair.
"I don't know," answered Sayla, "it just feels like it. Like it's that soon."
"And the paradox continues," Harver teased again.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah-I do my art thing, you do your thing with the football team," said Sayla.
"Hey, some of the positions I come up with are pretty creative. Besides, at least I'm getting paid," Harver challenged.
"How you keep that business from your parents is beyond me," Sayla waved her hand for emphasis, "Actually I should be getting back to the studio. I just came to ask if you two wanted to go to a concert on Saturday."
"Who's playing?" Grant asked.
"Suture Soundwaves. Their an indie band," answered Sayla.
"What flavor?" asked Harver.
"Blue grass," said Sayal sarcastically, "What do you think? Rock."
"I meant what are the band members like?" Harver clarified getting a mischievous look.
"If you wanna check out what the guys look like your gonna have to be there," Sayla flashed a sly glance at Harver, "anyway, call me if you decide to come-we'll take my car." Before Grant could object, she bent over quickly and kissed him on the cheek. Then she got up, picked up her food tray and headed to the studio.
"Ten bucks says your going to be her prom date whether you agree to it or not," Harver teased as he continued to comb his hair.
"Shut it," Grant said, willing his cheeks not to turn rosy red. He suddenly felt a grumbling in his stomach. That wasn't good. He may not need to eat regular food but he still needed lunch. His real lunch. "Look, I gotta go too, Harver. I just remembered something I have to do before lunch period ends."
"Aww, your gonna leave me alone?" Harver pouted.
"Sorry man, Lunch period's only so long. Besides-" Grant said, noticing a tall, muscular boy he knew as the football team's first string quarterback making his way toward their table, " looks like you won't be alone for long."
"Hey Harver! Man, can we talk?" shouted the football jock as he made his way through the thick cloud of students carrying food trays to other tables. He waved in their direction and Harver waved back.
"You should give him a discount," Grant said as he stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, "he's, like, your best customer." Grant then turned and headed out the door.
The Janitor's closet on the second floor never got used during the day. It was the closet for the night janitor. The day janitors got a separate closet on the first floor. Picking the lock wasn't a problem for Grant, a little something Hollick had taught him early on-for reasons Grant still wasn't sure of. At anyrate, the closet was just big enough for the three of them and was happily out of the security cameras line of vision. So with one last look to either side of the hall for any students or teachers, he cracked open the door and swiftly slid into the small storage space. Feeling around for a second Grant switched on the small light hanging from the sealing and began to strip.
Grant held his arms out for Hollick and Rodden and when they were completely detached from Grant's body he asked, "The usual?"
"Unless you got a new request?" Rodden smirked.
"Don't have time. And besides, I haven't had any new ideas lately," admitted Grant.
"You had another dream about a past Challenger didn't you?" asked Hollick. When Grant didn't respond he pressed, "You can't ignore this Grant. This is the fourth dream you've had reliving a fight in the past two weeks; and then there was the dream last night. This isn't something normal. This isn't even normal for Contractees."
"Yeah, well most Contractees don't have two contracts on their hands; most Contractees aren't spending every waking moment waiting for the next super-freak to come and kill them; most Contractees don't harbor the power signature of a psycho who's spirit shreds are honing in on it to find them. Huh? Do you remember when we first figured that out?" hissed Grant, "We realized there would be no point in running anywhere 'cause the power I strip away from the soul shards broadcasts like some supernatural radio signal to the other shards? I almost killed myself then and there!"
"Something is coming, Grant, and I don't think it's a basket of peaches and roses."
"I do not want to talk about this now, Hollick," Grant's voice was low and steady.
Hollick stared into Grant's unyielding eyes and could tell the conversation was over. At least for the moment. But he still had a very bad feeling about the whole thing. He knew all to well-old memories do not just pop up in one's dream for no reason. Rodden was still pretty young but Hollick himself had been around long enough to know that fate was about as much a fairytale as he was.
"Can I feed now?" Grant asked after a long moment of tense silence. Grant hadn't spoken about his near suicide since the event.
"Yeah, sure. Let's get into position," Rodden said softly, "Come on, Hollick." Rodden and Hollick stood on either side of Grant, the two naked teenage forms book ending him. As Grant bent over to take Hollick's large member into his mouth Rodden got down and spread his ass cheeks. As soon as Grant's hole was unobstructed, Rodden pushed his tongue into the puckering flesh and teased it open gradually. <It might not be creative,> Rodden thought, <but at least it's not just another "insert dick C into hole B and pump".>
Less than a minute passed before Grant was bouncing up and down on Rodden's cock, trying to match the rhythm Hollick was pumping his throat. His stomach gurgled again in anticipation. Grant was hungry, ravenous. This confused him even as he autopiloted into the range of orgasm. This hunger was like he'd used all his energy already, like he'd been in another fight and hadn't eaten since yesterday. But he'd had his breakfast in bed that morning and Mondays he had an early lunch period. His stomach shouldn't be making any noises at all. But this wasn't the first time-it only solidified his theory about the dreams sapping his energy. He knew he should tell Hollick and Rodden but that would bring up those conversations again and he just didn't want to discuss it. Not yet.
So Grant shoved his suspicions and theories, and all of Hollick's warnings to the back of his head and re-concentrated on his feeding session, kicking his rhythm into overtime. A minute later he could feel the white creamy goodness flow down his throat and shoot up his hole. His spine tingled with the feel of replenished energy. And he was satiated once again.
Once Hollick and Rodden returned to Grant's body he started pulling up his pants. Just as he was squeezing his head through the hole of the tee shirt he'd been wearing, the blaring ring of the school bell resonated through the janitor's closet. For an instant he he saw the boy's throat again, warping shaping- he was a one man lethal symphony. The ringing in his ears stopped and the image was gone. He was glad Cubus mind reading powers were limited otherwise Hollick would have been all over him. Shaking his head, Grant silently crept out of the closet and headed toward his next class.
To be continued . . .
I hope you guys liked this installment. It sets up the next few chapters as well as leading deeper into the plot. What do you think of Grant's relationship to the Harver character? In the next chapter you'll learn more about Harver and his relationship with the jocks at the school and his 'business'. And another new character(and this is new new-as in the first time Grant has ever met this character) will also slip into the story, fleshing out the cast.
Also, I've been toying with the idea of writing some short vignettes of some of Grant's past battles against challengers which would take place prior to the current plot and give readers a better idea of the kind of guys Grant has had to deal with. I wanted this to be a sort of interactive event so I've decided to let you readers come up with your own original Contractee, super powers, name and all. Email me your ideas at stargainer1@yahoo.com to consider and your character might just end up going head to head with Grant. Btw, 10 points to anyone who can tell me the full name of the Contractee that was featured in this chapter of TCC. I'll announce the answer in the next chapter or vignette I post.
As always, don't forget- "More fun to cum, The Cubus Contract has just begun!"