Beguile

Chapter 33

This chapter contains strong language, sexual content and pedophilia, and explicit scenes of gore and violence.

Read at your own risk!

Satyriasis:

Satyriasis: A neurotic condition where a male exhibits a markedly increased sexual desire that surpasses that of other males.

If one frequently indulges these sexual urges, the compulsion can increase in intensity, resulting in more reckless and dangerous behaviors.

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3rd Person POV

Everyone thinks the 9-year old Lucas is perfect.

His parents are both succesful doctors and they live in the street where the wealthy stays. They live in a house so big they technically need a phone call to get others down for dinner.

No wonder everyone envy him. Some are even angry how destiny plays because the wealthy, spoiled boy wears one of the most beautiful faces.

He's beautiful!

As much as people are in fury to that fact, there are more who love him.

How can they not? When the boy is young, innocent, very curious, and he believes everything the adult says. A good kid, as they say.

However, Lucas thinks he's not a good kid at all. He was just smiling and following the adults because he wants attention. He just wants his parents to look at him, to hold him so lovingly, to pat his back till he falls asleep while they sing him a lullaby. But they're doctors, they help others but never to him.

The ceramic floor is as sparkly as ever, it mirrors the chandelier that brightens the hall with its warm bulbs and real diamonds. The grand staircase is the same, the wooden handrail has unique patterns that swirls to highlight the red carpet draped on the stairs, which trails all the way up to the large family portrait.

Its not a good photo, he thought.

His mother is wearing an unnaturally large pearl necklace that it almost covered her shoulders, and a large diamond hoops for earings never suited her. The woman has money but never a sense of fashion.

Then his father, with that wide smile and perfect teeth....

Lucas is brimming with hostility. He wanted to wipe that smile away. The man is too kind, too loving, too genuine, and the boy hated that. His mother never needed an excuse, she would directly say that she's needed more in the hospital. However his father would utter lame stories about heros and saving people, and that someday, the boy will grow like him.

Bullshit!

I''ll never be like him.

Lucas kicks the door open. Today is his birthday, and early this morning his father gently woke him up and whispered about the gifts already in the playroom. As usual, it was accompanied with sorry's which never helps the situation.

When the door opened, a surge of coldness smack his skin like ice. A faint glimmer of sunlight peek through the curtains but it never hold a candle to the air-condition. The room feels like a freezer keeping all 30 unopened boxes and sprawled toys like frozen meat.