Chapter 1: Life in Death

Chapter 1: The Life in Death

Trigger Warning: Physical abuse and inappropriate scene. Read at your own risk.

Elias’ POV

A loud gasp escapes my lips as soon as the whip buries in my skin. It creates a searing pain I manage to endure. My hands forms into fists as I close my eyes, accepting the excruciating pain. It is as if a knife is drawing maps on my bare body.

I am kneeling in front of Samael, the white-haired old man who own us as his runners. He is sitting comfortably on his one seated couch with his tobacco in between his blackened lips. He is a ruthless and lustful owner, as if we are not the one who bring him comfort and fortune.

Sweat after sweat. Tears after tears. Blood after blood.

After being beaten by his people, the sweat, tears, and blood flows uncontrollably on the lines of my back; streaming down and stops on my fresh sliced wound.

“Aaah.” I wince, jotting my eyes close. It creates a searing pain I didn’t know it existed. For years I’ve been beaten because I made mistakes, today is different.

I am so tired of everything. I just wish I could just vanish into thin air.

“Tell us the truth, Elias (read as E-la-yas). Who stole the hundred bucks?” the man who beat me with his whip demanded an answer.

But I refuse to talk. I keep my mouth shut as if I do not own one.

My eyes rummage for someone inside and find him worrying together with my co-runners inside the underground building. I smile at him, assuring him that he would be safe tonight.

He is Riley, a year older than me and the only person who cares for me in the slave trade. He treats me as his friend and a brother to him. He never bully or make fun of me, unlike Andrew who constantly make my life miserable than already it is.

When I found out that he steals the money because he wants to get even with Samael, he takes the opportunity without being caught but someone inside reports him. And I know it is Andrew. He is the only one who holds grudges over the kids like us.

Beside Riley is Andrew, the person who pushes me to accept this punishment instead of Riley. He challenges me to get beaten, because he do not like me being close with other boys. He misunderstands my action as to why I am being friendly with everyone. He gives me a sly smirk and laughs at my misfortune from a distance.

He is as cruel as Samael. I am really hoping he will be punish too.

He brings himself closer to Riley, and gives me a ‘What are you looking at?’ look. He even mouths at me, “Deserved.”

When Riley tilts his head to face Andrew, he looks at Riley with that innocent face. He’s such a two-faced man. I do not know why he hates me really. Maybe a man like him just enjoy making others in pain. Yeah, perhaps. That he is.

“Samael, this one is hard. I think beating him out to death does not scare him. My arms are tired yet he did not even flinch a little.” The man beside me feels tired. He breathes and breathes heavily as if he is running a marathon.

He is  right. Beating me is no longer that painful anymore. I guess my body was quickly adjusting to every lash I willingly took. I feel numb from all the things I receive from them.  

Samael, then, put his tobacco on the ashtray and commands two of his people with just a simple nod. Then I feel two pairs of arms gripping my shoulder, pinning me up from my knees.

I stare at him straight into his eyes, waiting for him to stop his people. But he did not. Instead, he looks at me from head to toe and licks his lustful tongue.

He leans forward and orders, “Bring him inside my playroom. If he won’t talk and feel remorseful, I will make him.”

My eyes grow bigger, as already it is as he mentions his playroom. Everyone knows what is in there. I heard voices gasping at his order. As soon as that, everyone started whispering, crying, and fell silent, fearing Samael’s words.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Samael yelled in annoyance which resonated in the entire underground. It revealed his crooked teeth caused by his smoking habits.

All the voices vanished as if they were turned off and the deafening silence was replaced. Then, two men who pinned me, pulled me away from the spacious room and locked me inside the playroom where Samael usually plays his unannounced habit. The only habit of his that I cannot endure and contain.

As soon as I was pushed onto the cold floor, the red light was blind. When I adjusted my sight, I learned what those were hanging inside the room. I covered my mouth in shock. This is what the playroom looks like that everyone wishes to not be here. I was there before but blindfolded, only hearing a few things I couldn’t forget.

Hanged on each wall were grills which were entirely full of s*x toys and other sadistic things. I couldn’t help myself but get nervous at the sight. Who would want to be here? At the corner, I saw a mannequin gripping the tight ass of a woman who was sitting comfortably at his length, tongues fighting against each other. I gulped at the sight.

I covered my mouth with my free hand and gasped at the sudden sight. I knew Samael was someone who had difficulty controlling his sexual desires, but this is far from what I knew. This is too vulgar and sadistically realistic. This room isn’t a room for humans anymore. This is more likely a room for a demon.  

The door behind me creaked open. Samael’s eyes found mine as I stepped backward from where I was standing. I felt my foot stumbling from the floormat that it created. Samael’s sly smirk escaped. As soon as he realized how nervous I was, he took his time to examine me while he licked his lower lip. Lust was written all over his face.

He grabbed a chain from the steel table beside him and threw it at me. I knew what he was thinking. For life, I never dreamt of being in this kind of situation, rather I would be beaten to death. However, I was kinda expecting this to happen.

“Either you chain yourself or you’ll never get in my way. Choose your medicine, young boy.”

Samael stared at me, without looking away. My heart trembled and beat faster than usual. He sat at the nearest king’s chair on his right where alcohol was drinking to be drunk for.

I knelt down on the cold floor right away and begged him, “Spare me, Samael. I’ll never get in your

way for my entire life. I’ll dedicate my service and loyalty to you until the day I die. It won’t happen again. I admit I was wrong. Just spare me tonight. Please.”

But I heard him clenching his teeth. He didn’t like what I just said. He grabbed anything his hands set to and threw it at me. I felt a loud thud on the floor and a searing pain from a tool that just sliced my pale face. It was a metallic masturbation tool. I saw my own blood dripping on the floor while kneeling.

“You really don’t know your place, huh? How dare you ask me to spare your life? Do you own yourself? No one else here has the right to claim you as their own, except for me.” He yelled at me as he reached my jaw. He lifted my jaw to see his face. But I took it away.

He gripped it even more painfully, which caused my face to wrinkle. I smelt the strong scent of bitterness in his breathing. Suddenly I wanted to throw up.

I heard my heartbeat quicken at that sudden touch of his fingertips. I kept on claiming away my chin from him. But his grip tightened and his lips brushed into might harsh and impassive. He tasted like rotten meat with a bit of mayonnaise I abhor.

My veins reacted to his kisses in disgust. He snaked his tongue inside as my own fought against his, not returning his kisses. My eyes fell shut as I didn’t want to see how this demon claimed me as his own, stealing my rights. My hands were encircled in fists but they were too afraid to move. They are glued on the floor as if they haven’t been given the directions to do so.

What can I really do? How can a mere 18-year-old closeted gay fight against this satanic gesture? I felt my hot tears streaming down the lines of my face, creating a way for them to flow uncontrollably. My whole body was numbed and my mind got tangled with the thoughts of choices, my what-if’s and wishes.

What if I didn’t cover Riley and never acted as a hero? What if I didn’t feel the satisfaction of Andrew seeing me in destruction? Would it have been a difference? Will the outcome of my decision be the same and less painful? I wonder… I wonder if I will be able to free myself from this tiring life.

He stripped my clothes open right away, and I didn’t even know when and how. I just realized he did when his hand stroked me in a fast way. When he couldn’t make himself satisfied, he licked the top of it like a lollipop and gave me a mouthful of blow. My body froze under him. It didn’t react to what he was doing but minutes went by, my body seemed to be anticipating what he would be doing next.

I didn’t like it. I hate it. I felt like I betrayed my own self by arching my body for him, accepting his. I groaned and my mouth escaped a seductive moan. I didn’t even know it was that loud. I hate myself. I hate myself for screaming and craving for it. I hate it that I like it.

I WAS LAID back at the corner of the room naked… and lifeless. My body was exhausted so that I couldn’t get a grip of it. I wanted to run away. I wanted to stay away from this man who was pouring a glass of black label into his wine glass after the long hours of abusing me. How could he lie down as if I was an object for satisfaction?

It’s also been hours since I stopped crying. My tears keep themselves from streaming. Perhaps, afraid of what Samel will order again. He doesn’t like people crying. It’s shitty to him. How could this man be demanding and controlling a person’s feelings?

“Get up, you stinky whore! I don’t want to see you again in this room,” he firmly commanded.

Not getting into trouble is what he meant. If I were caught, I would be his meal every day from now and then. I should be more careful now. But how? When I think of something… it’s not about living anymore. Is that how he gives motivation?

THE GUARD threw me inside the caged-like cell. He took a little stare at me before shifting his eyes in the hallway as he left the room I was in. That’s when my eyes sunk and tired all of a sudden that it sank on its own.

This isn’t what I wanted. This is not the life I wanted when my father sold me to Samael because I wasn’t the son he was supposed to be raising. That the son who used to be so masculine turns out to be gay. Why is life so cruel to someone like me who just wants to live freely?

With the clothes I had, I tied them together into a long and tight rope; hanged it on the metal above. I

made sure it was as tight as the padlock of the cell. I snaked it on my fair neck and forget that my mother used to tell me how pretty my neck is for a necklace. I’m sorry, mom, if necklaces never suit me.

Sometimes, I ask God why he let this happen to me? I have been a good son and human in this cruel world. I did everything to please those people I loved. But, why am I receiving punishment instead? Was my goodness not enough?

Letting my last tear flow, I kicked the chair I used to climb above. I am so fed up with my life. I always wonder what I did wrong why God has so much problems thrown unto me? Is there really God?

I felt my throat tighten. My toes curled. And seconds went by, my heart slowly ceased and my hands started to feel light.

With my blurry eyes caused by crying, I saw a knife flying towards my direction.