Death's Middle Name {boyxboy}

Chapter Thirty-One

~Tuesday 2nd January 2018~

"Nnn..." Alwynn groaned when he finally mustered enough strength to force some movement in his body. Not that it had much effect. In his mind, he was speaking in full sentences, his eyes open and his hands reaching out to touch Vant. In his mind, they were laid in bed together, in some beautiful house far away from everything in that goddamn town. In his mind, Alwynn was happy.

"I was thinking we don't get married in a church," Vant was babbling on about their wedding, had been ever since Alwynn agreed to marry him, "maybe a beach, that would be nice, with the sun setting behind us," Alwynn was smiling, grinning even, at his fiance, seeing the light in those dark eyes that hadn't dulled for months then.

"Wherever you want, I don't care, as long as you're waiting for me at the end of the aisle," Alwynn didn't mind listening to Vant muttering away, even if he was so tired. He had been tired for a while, why was he so tired?

"Fuck..." Alwynn felt his lips move, felt the word roll off his tongue and the sound of his own voice pulsated in his ears. That was real. The illusion in his mind wasn't. God, what was going on?

Alwynn focused on the little things, since opening his eyes seemed like the most arduous task in the world. He flexed his fingers, each one at a time then all together, although even then, they didn't move much. They kept getting caught on something, something hard and wooden, the same material that was pressed up against both of Alwynn's forearms. In fact, the same material that was sending chills through Alwynn's entire body.

No, that wasn't what was sending chills down his body. That must have been his mind playing tricks. How would he be able to feel the material all over his body if he was clothed? If he was still wearing his jeans, and the jacket he had slung over his shoulders before he had stepped out into the bitter night, he wouldn't be able to feel the wood on his skin.

Alwynn heard his teeth chattering before he realised he was shivering, an odd, out of order, situation he seemed to be in. He had to open his eyes, had to look, had to find out where he was. He could call out for Vant, yes, but if Vant wasn't there... No, that would be a stupid idea. Stay silent.

Alwynn took several deep breaths, slow ones that were completely inaudible before he forced open his eyes. They stung when the dim light hit them, sent a throbbing ache right around to the back of Alwynn's skull, one that pounded at the bone as though it would crack it. Alwynn narrowed his eyes, blinking enough to cause the tears to fall. He had to stop that, had to be strong.

Alwynn was sat at a dinner table, he could just about see that. In a house with bare walls and floor, no discernible features, simply bland and old. To his left, an open archway through which he could see the front door, a flight of stairs and a closed door on the opposite wall. To his right, a fireplace with smouldering coals and logs trying it's best to remain alive. Something in common with the boy tied to the chair then.

"Evening, sleeping beauty," Alwynn tensed at the voice crooning behind him, "hey, why are you crying?" a thumb brushed over Alwynn's cheek gingerly, wiping away the tears that stained his skin.

"Bad dream," Alwynn whispered, his voice cracking, revealing the fear swelling within him. He had to calm down, had to play into whatever his captor wanted, and he was pretty sure of what that was.

"My mother always used to say if you told someone what happened in your nightmares, they would never come true," Alwynn flinched at the floorboards that creaked under foot of the man. He didn't shift his gaze from where it had settled, the closed curtains that concealed a broken window behind, at least, Alwynn believed it was broken judging by the strange patterns the light made as it passed through.