Upside Down (COMPLETE) Inside Out, Book 2 [BoyxBoy]

Parker

Theodore was a monster before his eyes.

After Parker spelled him invincible, the vampire wizard could only watch as the boy transformed into a murderer. At first, Theodore only defended himself from any incoming attacks from the Andrews boy, but the spell was supposed to give him the killing desire. Jace Andrews had long been beaten down bloody in the ground when Theodore slammed himself against him, kicked and smacked and threw him off with no mercy.

Parker had seen worse, but that was a first after a long time feeling the shiver running around his body. Theodore seemed too familiar to the past he had long forgotten. Letting Theodore destroying Jace Andrews was dangerous; it could start the fire he had put out long time ago.

The commentators seemed to be flabbergasted by the turn of events. The noise from the crowd started to sound like a big convoluted cry instead of an energetic holler now. The Andrews boy used to be the star of the show, everyone's favorite, and he was losing. Him losing was appropriate from Parker's stand now.

What wasn't right was the insistence of Theodore to end his opponent. It reminded him of the dark nights, the days of him locked up in the torture chamber in despair, bitten and dying under the full moon before everyone dumped him like trash.

"You mean nothing, Bradley . . ."

"You're a disgrace . . ."

He had spelled himself, almost destroying himself in the process to not remember these things anymore, but Theodore ripping out Jace Andrews's flesh brought him back to a memory when he had done the exact same thing. His movements, his invincibility, his ferocity, his murderous lust . . . they were the exact copy of what used to be Parker Sebastian's past, something that stripped what was real of him decades ago . . .

He swung out his wand. "Pull over," he chanted, and everything he'd lend out to Theodore flew off in the air and diminished. Theodore dropped down to the ground, already winning the present round of this stupid competition, but had to face the later competitors to himself. "Fuck!" he shouted to himself. "Alpa," he spelled, touching the tip of his want to his head. He didn't want to remember, he wasn't supposed to remember. "Alpa!" But he knew he was running out of his own magical verve. Leaning over the concrete in a hidden spot of the portable canvas, Parker slid downwards and came to sit on the ground. He took the overflown sleeve of his robe and bit the fabric. I cannot be weak, he thought, as tears slipped down his face.

He realized he was getting weaker in ease; he lost his verve so quickly; his thoughts came in shambles so effortlessly—clearly it seemed that the enemy would win with no resistance like this. He had even considered contacting the Sebastians and asked them for some assistance, something he had never done before. The funniest part was the fact that he had never encountered the enemy yet.

Over the fading noise, Parker flinched when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Hey."

He stood up in shock and saw a pair of eyes that made the ground beneath him break.

The world froze. Coldness stormed into his chest, and he couldn't breathe the air anymore. He lost his senses, and his wand escaped his grip to drop to the ground.

It's you.

During the immobility, Parker captured every detail of the boy's face. He had bright chocolate eyes and bushy thick brows, and they showed menacing concern and emotion. His mouth, a natural bright pink in color, curved upwards. His cheeks protruded, looking like he hadn't grown fully, a mismatch look to the little growing hair on his stubble.

He looked like an ordinary boy, but he wasn't to Parker's eyes. An ordinary boy wouldn't be having the ability to spark delusion in his head. An ordinary boy wouldn't be able to start a fire inside of him, like it did now.

Parker was still unable to move when the boy ducked down and picked the wand with no resistance. No, it can't be! The wand was supposed to burn in the enemy's hand. Nobody would survive touching it, but the boy had his hand gripped around it safely, like it was nothing but a broken twig.

"I think this is yours?"

He had the chance now. He had to kill him. Parker had to give in; the enemy would only cause him to weaken more. He shouldn't be stalling any further.

Parker breathed in and snatched the wand away. "Murder, murder, I show no mercy!"

No spark started where it should be. The air was still, and the boy only stood there and watched, confusion filling his eyes.

"Murder, murder . . ." Deep inside, Parker knew he didn't stand a chance now for what seemed to be the very first time.

So he ran.

He wasn't a good runner, having years and years having no fear of having to rush. He was a slow man, who took his steps careful and gentle, even when he was in pursuit of the ones he wanted to destroy. He had been steady and calm even when chasing his opponents before. He didn't do the running because his enemies did. He did the chasing, the tracking, the threatening hunt.

He didn't know what was happening now.

He found himself entering deep into the woods, his feet clumsy as they stomped the ground. He was already out of breath. He didn't feel like he moved fast enough, and he had never felt so afraid for a very long time like he was now.

He feared his fascination; his old, long-dead desires that started to revive to the sight of the boy. He feared the feeling of yearning and hollowness seeing him, and he feared believing what he had in mind all along.

It cannot be . . .

"Hey!" he heard the voice again, and the boy was by his side, running effortlessly as if he was almost flying. "Hey, wait! Mister, please . . ."

"Get away from me!" he shouted, his heart felt as if it was rising up to his throat.

"No way!" the boy shouted, already a few steps behind. Parker ran faster. "I have something to tell you!"

Parker ignored. He pled his anxiety to turn into the energy that could burn him forward. He didn't want to lose like this. He knew he could be stronger than this. He'd lived decades not worrying about being weak, being the one who had been stepped on.

He felt his verve reenergizing, the warm sensation bubbling up inside his system. He could try the killing spell now, but he didn't want to stop to turn around and try in vain.

The boy's voice started to fade now, but he didn't want to risk slowing down. Parker kept his feet moving, focus on keeping his pace to only rise up. His inner clothes behind the robe was already soaked in sweat.

Suddenly he heard a faint voice, almost sounded like a howl. "Please wait for me!"

Ahead was a tall body of a mountain, its rocky walls were lightly visible through the dim sunshine falling through the canopy of the woods. Parker closed his eyes and gripped his wand stronger, imagining a new space inside a cavernous area—he needed a new safe space. He needed to hide.

"Open the door!" he screamed as he extended his hand forward. A spark of fire flew and crashed on the walls of the mountain. The ground shook and moved, and the wall ahead of him started to form a tunnel.

Parker kept on moving, andsoon he was swallowed into the space under the mountain. As he passed throughthe pathway, fire lit up by the walls, and the two sides of the archway startedto close in towards each other, returning back to its original state.