The cold hit like a knife the moment Kylexsis stepped outside. His breath came in white puffs, his lips already going numb. He hugged himself tighter, cursing the thin layers that did nothing against the freezing wind. Reaching the shadiest street in town I couldn't stop the shivers of fear. Kylexsis had a sudden gut feeling that something was going to happen... and his gut never lies. He picked up his pace, itching to get out of the street and back to the safety of his apartment.
The faint sound of footsteps reached his ears, followed by the sound of low breathing. Heat radiated in his body as adrenaline began to pump.
Kylexsis sped up, pulse hammering. Not here. Not now.
"Faggot."
The singsong taunt slithered down his neck. Kylexsis swallowed bile. Run. But shadows moved ahead of him, cutting off the street.
"Trying to escape, eh?"
That voice.
Justin Levough stepped into the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, amber eyes gleaming like a predator's. Raven-black curls framed a face too beautiful for the cruelty it wore. "Lexi..." He purred Kylexsis's name like a lover.
A hand wrenched Kylexsis backward. His backpack was ripped away, thrown into the dark. Then they surrounded him—five of them, five sets of grinning teeth.
"You thought we'd let you off easy?" Cameron, blond and blue-eyed, dug his fingers into Kylexsis's bruised wrist. Pain sparked up his arm.
Roan fisted Kylexsis's hair, yanking his head back. "We wanted to give you a proper goodbye," he hissed, breath hot against Kylexsis's ear.
The first punch drove the air from Kylexsis's lungs.
Then the world dissolved into pain.
Fists. Boots. The crack of his ribs against brick. He crumpled, curling into himself as blows rained down. Laughter echoed around him, bright and vicious. Justin's most of all.
A kick to his jaw. White-hot agony. His vision swam.
"Little kitten..." Justin's voice dripped with false sweetness. A hand fisted in Kylexsis's hair, yanking.
Kylexsis screamed as he was dragged across the pavement, scalp burning, nails scrabbling at Justin's grip. Useless. Always useless.
"I'm going to miss this," Justin murmured, and the words were worse than the pain.
Justin's breath was hot against Kylexsis' lips as he whispered his name. When his fingers brushed Kylexsis' cheek, the boy recoiled—only for Justin to grab his face roughly, nails digging in until blood pricked the skin. A pained sound escaped him.
"You're mine to hurt. Mine to touch," Justin murmured, grinning at Kylexsis' shudder.
Repulsion twisted in his gut. He was no one's property—but the bruising grip on his jaw stole any protest.
Justin's voice turned sharp. "I don't like you with that blue-haired bastard, Clarke Conners." His amber eyes glinted before his smirk widened. "Maybe I should mark you. Let him know who owns you."
*W-what? No—" Kylexsis choked, panic rising. "Please don't—"
"Hoodie up. Hold him still."
Kylexsis struggled, knowing what was coming next. He begged, whimpered, and cried, trying to wriggle out of their grip, but it only made things worse. There was no escaping this fate. He didn't know how painful a knife's cut would be—he could only imagine. And his imagination wasn't helping.
He didn't want to be marked, to be branded like some object. His dignity was all he had left, his body was all he had left, and Justin was going to destroy that. He didn't want this. They could beat him, kick him, punch him—but not this. Definitely not this. His heart dropped to his stomach, and he fought to keep from hyperventilating uncontrollably.
"This is going to hurt, little kitten," Justin chuckled.
Kylexsis wanted to scream, but the heavy hand on his mouth stopped him. His heart sped up at the cold, sharp tip of the knife pressing into his skin. And then—
He screamed into the hand at the top of his lungs as excruciating pain tore through him. The pain in his ribs, his head, his throat—all of it faded. The only thing he felt now was the knife digging into him mercilessly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Anger…
You deserve this....
This is your punishment…
Exhaustion…
YOU DESERVE THIS!!!!!!
The voices, the terror, the curses—they all came rushing back. He couldn't bear it. He wanted to die. There was nothing left for him on this earth. Everyone dies eventually—so why not end it now?
He felt faint, his consciousness slipping away from reality.
Was he dying?
He hoped so....
But his dumb luck struck again. A sharp kick to his shin jolted him back to awareness.
Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it!!!!!!
Why? Why wouldn't they let him die? Why wouldn't God let him die? Why wouldn't life let him die? WHY?!
"You're mine now, kitten," Justin purred.
"Fuck off. I'm not anybody's," Kylexsis growled hoarsely, his voice weak. He knew his defiance would earn him a death wish—and that was exactly what he wanted. He didn't care anymore.
"What did you just say to him?" Cameron sneered, kicking his shin again.
"Yo, you want a death wish or something?" Roan chuckled, amused.
Oh, you have no idea, Roan.
"I'd go back to being mute if I were you," Roan added.
"I hate you," Kylexsis spat at Justin, his voice ragged. "I hate you, you sadistic freak. Preying on the weak to boost your ego, you sick fuvk!" He spat at Justin's feet. "You motherfucking son of a bitch. You crave power and control because I bet you never got the attention you wanted. You insult homosexuals, and yet here you are, getting aroused from beating me to a pulp."
He shouted it all straight into Justin's face, hoping to push the right buttons. Justin was known for his short fuse—and Kylexsis could see it working. The twitch in Justin's eye confirmed it.
"You've taken everything now… so why don't you finish it? Why don't you just kill me and end it?!"
He screamed the words, pouring out all his rage and despair. Then he waited—waited for Justin's reaction, hoped for it. Even the others fell silent, backing away like cowards unwilling to grant his death wish.
Justin stepped forward, his face twisted in fury.
"You dare talk back to me?" he growled, raising his foot and slamming it down hard on Kylexsis's wounded side—right where he'd carved his mark.
Kylexsis screamed as the air rushed from his lungs.
"You dare raise your voice at me?" Justin snarled, grinding his foot into the wound, tearing it open further. Kylexsis clawed at Justin's leg, but the pressure only increased.
"You dare insult me?" Justin roared, kicking the same spot again. And again. And again.
Then he grabbed Kylexsis by the hair, yanking him up. Kylexsis could only wheeze, his throat raw and bloody from the repeated blows.
"But you were right about one thing," Justin sneered. "You are weak."
He slammed Kylexsis's head against the dumpster—once, twice, over and over, each impact harder than the last. Then he smashed Kylexsis's temple into the concrete.
Blood splattered. Skin split. His nose broke. His vision blurred from what was surely a concussion.
Justin dragged Kylexsis's face close, his amber eyes glowing with malice.
"And you were right about one more thing…"he hissed. "I should end it now."
I didn't protest when on cue, the sound of a truck roared in the night and he smiled devilishly. I didn't protest when he dragged me across the ground by my hair again until we were finally out of the alley. I didn't say a word when he bent at my ear and whispered." Till we meet in the next world, Lexi-chan, our real battle will begin."
I didn't say anything as he flung me to the middle of the road, my bag following too, me being unable to move a finger. However I didn't miss the bright yellow light of the truck coming at full speed and I didn't miss the menacing glow and wolfish grin on Justin's face before the heavy truck crossed over me.
A sickening sound of bones crushing and flesh squelching was the last sound I heard beforw meeting compete darkness.
Haaaaa..... Finally.
-------------
The silence afterward wasn't real. Not in Clarke's chest. His heart was thundering like a war drum, his breath catching every time the phone buzzed with no reply.
Something was wrong.
He knew it. Like how the air feels thick before a storm, how the wind stops breathing, how animals go quiet when a predator's nearby.
He'd begged Kylexsis to stay over. Begged. But that stubborn ass—always smiling, always pretending to be stronger than he was—he said he'd be fine.
Clarke's fingers gripped the hoodie sleeves he still hadn't changed out of. His eyes were locked on the clock across the room.
2:37 AM.
His phone pinged. A new message.
But not from Kylexsis.
Instead, it was from one of the private surveillance accounts Clarke had secretly installed—yes, secretly—because he knew, he knew one day, Kylexsis past would crawl back from hell to finish what it started.
He clicked it. A red dot blinked on a location pin.
Then came the video.
At first, all Clarke could hear was the low hum of an approaching vehicle. Then the light—blinding—then the shadow of something, someone, thrown carelessly into the street like a discarded doll.
And then... impact.
Clarke's knees gave way, the phone slipping from his hand. He didn't scream. He didn't cry.
He shattered.