Coming Home

Title: Coming Home
Chapter 7: Sacrifice
Author: Chaosdreamer (dreamerchaos)
Beta: None. Thank you, maiafay, for all your hard work. I hope life and writing works out for you. Don't be shy about harassing me about my fics! XD
Warning: Slash, gore, and horror, AU. NC-17.
Pairing: Pyramid Head/James, Valtiel/James
Disclaimer: Silent Hill is owned and copyrighted by others beside myself. I'm only playing with the boys.
Summary: What if James hadn't killed Mary? What if she had died from the disease? The darkness still resides in James--the ability to give birth to 'monsters'. They are calling for him now, even if he doesn't understand--and desires no contact with them. So, the question is: How would James be lured to Silent Hill, and would he be able to avoid his dark fate?
Warning: Oooooh man. This is the part that will make this fic progress further into NC-17. For readers not old enough, scat right now!!


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Two days later…
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Frank took a moment to regain his breath, bending over with hands resting on knees. The outlines of stalled vehicles and cheerless buildings rose around him like sharks appearing through deep dark waters. Finally, some form of civilization! He rasped bitterly, for a long period of time worried that his long trek through the dense fog and thick forest would leave him, remaining lost and alone.

He had been forced to abandon his vehicle at the gated steel entrance, but fortunately finding a small dirt path that circled around the blocked road, running quite some distance until intersecting with an old cemetery. From there, he had followed the path, making his way through an old vehicle tunnel that had seen better days, and found himself standing in front of a flower shop, a small cramped building tucked away, lost in the streets of a silent town.

He shivered, teeth rattling while pulling his heavy jacket tighter. The air was chilling, fog as cold as jagged icicles. Long wisps of breath twisted in front of his face forming white spirals, pale slender dragons breathing white flickering flames as the chill stung both lips and tongue.

The veil of silence blanketing -- no, more so choking with invisible hands -- encased the streets, dropping a heavy weight upon his shoulders and an raised edginess in all senses. The town stood as still as death, breath seized. The concentrated silence crouched in wait, a large formidable beast masking something else... something far more deadly, and as blind as Frank may be considered in regards to the weird and unnatural, an internal cautionary voice was blaring. His nerves rattled every sound and sliding shadows causing him to leap like a spitting cat. In the distance, intersection lights flickered red, yellow, and green. Vehicles sat idle at the edge of the stark crosswalks several with their windows smashed and car doors hanging completely open.

And what about the people who lived in the town? The various stores lining the sidewalk had most of their doors locked or boarded shut, very few capable of being forced open beneath the weight of his shoulder. Car doors not hanging open were locked from the inside while windows had been rolled completely up. There had been enough people to at least attempt to barricade buildings, or secure themselves within vehicles. What happened to them, then? Did everyone suddenly vanish, or possibly evacuate the town?

What on earth could cause an entire town to suddenly become abandoned?

'I can't believe that James came all the way to a place like this.' Frank finally convinced his body to breathe steadily, gathering his strength, suddenly feeling slightly drained from stumbling blind down the fog-choked paths and cemetery. It was as if his strength was being drained with every breath he exhaled... 'What in the world does he expect to find?'

Once he was capable of standing up straight without suffering from a dizzy spell, Frank removed the cellphone from his pocket, checking the signal once more. A minute later he shoved the cellphone back into place after checking the signal and battery repeatedly just to be sure, finding only hissing static responding to every effort in trying to contact the outside world.

Apparently, there was some sort of interference -- but what kind would block a signal for more than an hour?

This would explain why he couldn't get in contact with James. If James were here, he would have experienced the same problems with his own cellphone.

'That wouldn't explain the other voices over the phone -- those horrible taunts and threats. Whoever they are and for whatever sick joke being played, how would they have gotten the number to the house?'

'They would need to have gotten their hands on James' cellphone.' The thought sent chills up his spine.

Then whoever made the call could possibly be here as well. They were here with him in this town, in this horrid silent place.

Had they already come across James?

'Don't think about such things.' He commanded. 'Find James, and then worry about the risk of running into anyone else who may have far darker intentions than simply allowing us to walk out of here.'

His footsteps were incredibly loud; the soles of his boots dragging along the concrete liken a grating slide of nails along a chalkboard. He winced as the sound resonated, sole companion through aimless wandering up and down many bisecting streets.

Nearly half an hour later he passed by a familiar street sign. He realized he had passed through this particular street hardly ten minutes prior.

'This is pointless.' Frank groaned, stopping for a moment. 'I'm wandering in circles. This is not the way to help James. How can I find him if I don't know even where I am?'

Okay. Okay, think. If James were truly in danger, what would he do?

James wasn't foolish. If he ran upon trouble that he couldn't handle, there would be no hesitation in immediately retreating to safer grounds.

As he continued down the streets, Frank deliberately stopped at every public telephone and checked to see if they were working. He wasn't surprised to find silence over the line, and gathered the coins he had pushed through the slot that ultimately ended up in the small change bin. He continued this process as he walked.

Think, think, think... He urged, in his head creating a list of things that his son may have possibly encountered, and what actions he would take. Okay…James runs into trouble. James does his very best to get out of the situation. More than likely, he would then find someplace to duck low until it was safe.

Where would James feel safe? In an unfamiliar town, where would James attempt to find safety?

A police or fire station would be the first guess. In the worst case scenario that neither building offered decent security, it was possible that James would quickly search for other alternatives. Best opportunities lay in a structure that was not too big, with all of the windows and doors preferably already secure, or capable of being easily barricaded.

There lay a possibility of James actually traveling to the resort where he and Mary had stayed before she fell ill. That particular site for James and Mary's retreat was the farthest place within Silent Hill's district, but the minute chance of James having gone there still existed.

Now at least he held a few ideas about where to start. Frank folded his arms on top a nearby public telephone to rest and think, the black casing creaking underneath the abrupt weight. He needed to accomplish his search without an form of a map since there had been no such maps available at his home, and neither at any of the gas stations or motels. Silent Hill, it seemed, was a blank spot on the county's map.

The telephone he was resting against suddenly thrummed underneath his arms, shrill ring rattling his attention, making him nearly leap out of his skin.

"Shit!" The curse was spat as he reflexively drew back, startled by the abrupt noise.

The arm jiggled within the plastic cradle, mouth and earpiece dancing, scrapping along the cracked number pad. "Jeez--" He hissed softly, rubbing the palm of his hands together to try to still their noticeable tremble. His heart rattled like a caged bird beneath his ribs.

Ringing telephone persisted, as if purposely trying to make as much noise as possible to draw the man's attention. 'Pick up, pick up,' it seemed to taunt him, daring Frank to answer the unexpected call.

But did he really want to pick up and answer?

There was no use in standing around staring at the telephone like some dunce. Either he'd answer it, or not.

He took a deep breath, and then shook himself when realizing he was mustering his strength to face a telephone call. Not certain of what purpose the telephone call held, he reached forward and wrapped fingers around the arm, ceasing the incessant ringing as the ear piece slid off the metal tab.

"Hello?" It felt ridiculous to ask; for all he knew, whoever was across the line would hang up.

"…...*hiiissssss*……" The whine of static answered.

"Hello?" He asked again.

''….*hiiiisss*...da…*hissss*…where are you?…" He listened closely, certain that he had heard something besides the static. It came again, static slowly beginning to break up.

"…Dad…"

"James…" His body felt weak, and he juggled the telephone when his fingers slackened, allowing the mouthpiece to drop against his collarbone. "JAMES!" He cried. "It's you, isn't it?! James! James, where are you?"

He wasn't able to offer any answer as to how or why James was able to reach him in an area where there was no cellphone coverage, and none of the public telephones had been working. But he took the blessing in disguise, speaking quickly since he didn't know how long the telephones would remain active. "James, where are you?" He repeated.

"I'm here…I'm in Silent Hill." Frank's throat tightened at James' hitched sob, breath shuddering weakly over the line. Static erupted wildly, in danger of drowning out James' voice. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should have listened. I should never have come here. Everything…everything has turned out so wrong…"

"Are you hurt? James, are you injured?"

A hysterical, trembling laugh from his son made him gasp. "Yes and no. I've had a little bit of water, but nothing else. Surprisingly, I only feel a little bit tired. But…everything else…"

"James…"

"I…" James' voice hitched over the line again. "I…I'm not okay."

"Nothing is okay. I'm not the same person I used to be. Blood…so much blood. I thought I was going to drown in it. It -- it was sick and wrong. They carved it into my skin.

"It was so wrong…and yet for a while, it had felt good.

"I'm sick. I'm some sort of sick, twisted, pervert. I can't believe that I let it go so far, and what I let them do. I should be ashamed."

"Oh my god…" Frank's whisper went unheard by James. James' words did not make a lot of sense to him, but they left him rattled, terrified for his son.

"Dad, you have to get away. You have to get out of Silent Hill."

Frank's voice rose. "NO! I won't leave you." He promised.

"No. No, dad. Don't stay. If they find you, they'll kill you. Don't stay. Don't stay for me. I -- I -- I couldn't live with knowing that you died because of me."

"Shhhh." Frank hushed. "Don't talk about that anymore. I can take care of myself."

"No. No you can't."

"This is beyond anything you have ever come across, Dad. You won't survive it."

"Let me worry about that, okay?" Frank wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

"This isn't right. Dad--"

"Listen. Listen to me. Where are you? Where are you right now?" He interrupted, sensing the rising hysteria within James' frantic babbling.

"The -- the hospital. I'm at the hospital, in the receptionist's office. I ended up here by mistake, but it's fairly safe. I don't--" James' voice suddenly fell silent, but if Frank listened hard enough he could hear his son breathing over the line. He could make out the sound of a body shifting restlessly.

"What's wrong? James?"

"…Nothing. Sorry." Frank breathed a sigh of relief when James appeared back on the line. "I thought I heard something. I'm just a little jumpy." James laughed half-heartedly.

"You were talking about how you ended up at the hospital." Frank coaxed.

"Oh? Oh, yeah. It's…still a bit confusing." James sighed. "Several days ago I was in a restaurant, where --" James cut himself off. "Anyway, that's in the past. I don't remember exactly how, but one minute it was night and I was in the restaurant, the next minute I was sprawled out in the parking lot right outside the building, and it was day time.

"I don't remember how or why, but somehow I had thrown myself through the glass doors. They had been sealed and locked tight, but by some miracle I was able to bust through the glass."

"It was stupid, I know." James sensed Frank's horror at his son's actions. "I messed myself up pretty bad. The glass cut me all over. There were only a few bad slices!" James assured quickly, clearly envisioning his father imagining James with his wrists or throat cut wide open. "But the sight of my sliced clothes and the blood almost made me sick. I managed to pull myself to my feet, and stumbled off blind in one direction. By sheer luck, I made my way to this hospital, where I've been hiding out."

"I can't believe all of this has happened." Frank whispered.

James laughed harshly. "Yeah. Welcome to my world."

Frank muttered privately to himself. "Hospital…" He returned back to James. "James, where is the hospital?"

A moment of silence. "Umm…I didn't really have the time to check the street signs, or really see where I was going." James admitted, a hint of sheepishness lacing his voice. By the obvious silence over the line, Frank was not happy to hear about James' slight. "…What about you?"

"…Good question." Frank's utterance was spoken bitterly.

"…This doesn't exactly help either of us, huh?" Frank shrugged, then realized that it was impossible for James to see.

"This sort of situation is not a common occurrence. I think our lack of expertise can be forgiven."

"Yeah--" Again, James cut himself off. Frank heard a sharp scrape, followed by James' sudden startled gasp.

"What? James?"

"Shit…s-shit...It's nothing, I'm fine." James assured shakily, voice loud as if he was curling close to the mouthpiece. "I keep jumping at every shadow and every little noise. I'm only scaring myself."

"Are you safe?" Frank demanded, worried for his son.

"I think so. The receptionist's office is one room and a connected storage room. The main desk window is sealed tight, and the door can be locked from the inside. I found a flashlight in one of the drawers, so I have some light, thankfully; and I found this phone. I don't know why, but it hadn't been working earlier when I checked. But when I was thinking about wanting to talk to you, and had just checked the phone again, all of a sudden the dial tone was going. I can't believe that you picked up!"

"I wanted to talk with you, too." Frank's smile fell, a frown rising at doubt began to set seed in the back of his mind. "It's just amazing, how well it all worked out."

"I know. I just knew…"

"What?" Frank urged. "What did you know?"

James continued. "When I was thinking about you, all of a sudden I knew that I needed to pick up the phone. The thought hit so suddenly, it wouldn't give me a moment's peace. I didn't really believe that it would work!"

'Yes…I'm happy as well. Sheer luck or James' desire being fulfilled.' Frank let James' explanation latch all of his attention for a brief moment. 'But the odds of it all happening at the right moment, working to our benefit, is beyond astonishing. It's impossible. Almost…too perfect of an opportunity.'

"All right. Luck aside, I still need to find the hospital." Frank sighed feeling a headache approaching due to trying to assess just how much time could be wasted searching every inch of the town.

"The only thing I can tell you is that I was at the Happy Burger when I crashed through the glass and ended up on the street." James offered.

"Better than nothing." Frank's hesitation palpable to end the first conversation he had had with his son in over two days.

"I'll be waiting for you." Frank could sense James' effort in offering complete and absolute certainty. "I'll be here."

"Promise to wait for me." Frank begged. "I don't want to lose you again."

"I promise." James swore, putting his soul into the two words.

"Okay."

"I love you, Dad."

Frank blinked hard, stilling the tears threatening to trickle from the corners of his eyes. "I love you too."

Moving rigidly, every single millisecond springing forward immeasurable pain, Frank hung up the phone that ended the lone source of contact he held with his son.


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The phone hand fell to rest in the base with a soft click. James stared blankly at the now silent device for a brief moment, running through the conversation between him and his father.

Their interaction had been bitterly sweet. James was elated that his father had come to find him, actually finding his way into Silent Hill. But with that euphoria came the rancid ball of fear lodging in his throat, knowing beyond a doubt that soon he would not be the only one to know that an outsider had found his way into the seemingly empty town.

God, how everything went downhill after all the chaos in the restaurant.

After his mouth and throat filled to the brim with blood, any following memories swam and blurred. Vaguely a memory of staring upwards towards the ceiling surfaced, and then the sudden rush of metal and glass. Shards of fissured glass slashed face and arms as he rolled across rugged pavement, the dark sky of the nightmarish version of Silent Hill alight with yellow and white stars that blinded his vision when his skull cracked against the ground.

At first, when the distant wail of the sirens began, he thought he was delirious from shock. Then the night sky began receding, melting into quickly rising low clouds and gray fog. Buildings and streets creaked and groaned like an ancient forest being beaten under rough gales of wind, while rotting torn facings slowly shifting back into their previous features, discarding the nightmarish darkness.

Heart pounding and beating like a drum within his skull, James stumbled onto his feet in a daze. He did not wait to see if Pyramid Head or Valtiel still remained, immune to the power that drew the nightmare world back into its shadowed crevices. Fight or flight instinct instilled him to act. No hesitation existed when he chose the latter, taking off in one random direction. His constant running around did little to help him prior his second duration in the restaurant, but it was a technique that never grew old, and tended to serve the purpose of stalling contact between him and the two demons.

Hunkering down within the confines of the receptionist's desk eerily reminded him of his time in the construction site. Thankfully, the hospital was quite a bit warmer, with no cold concrete digging into his back.

He only dared venture out of the small shelter in his search for food and water, finding little of either. Not too long into the first day the spreading tenderness between his legs and aching discomfort deep within his bladder eventually broke him down, and he used a bucket and farthest corner of the storage room as a quickly devised outhouse. James made certain to keep the storage room door closed tight.

The place was far from being the Hilton, with the layers of thick grime and each breath filled with the cloying scent of mold -- but that was the least of any of his worries. Given the amount of time without proper food and little water, he remained surprised by how relatively well he was functioning. Sleep came irregular -- and never with his back to the door.

Most of his time had been spent snooping through the desks, cabinets, and anywhere else he could possibly think to look. Few rewards were discovered, only a single flashlight inside a lopsided drawer and a seemingly dead phone resting on the far corner of the receptionist's desk.

The only answer to his good fortune in using the phone at the right time that his father was close by another working telephone would be sheer luck. He was still a bit uncomfortable by the fact that he had placed no call, and neither had he known the exact number for the telephone Frank had been resting near.

He could forget all previous mixed fillings, dread and doubt discarded and replaced by elation from actually talking with his father. Frank's voice soothed his panicked babbling, James hunkering close to the phone as if there was a way for him to feel the man's warm presence. Rapidly he answered every question, repeating a little of what happened at the restaurant, making sure to leave out certain details that were best left silent.

A huge chunk of shame made him swallow, recalling how he had withheld certain pieces of information from Frank, not wanting to scare the man by revealing that there'd been more than just a few cuts and torn clothes. One particular cut down his throat and jaw bled so heavily that the collar and front of his shirt remained with a thick stripe of crimson. Several sharper, long daggers of glass embedded his thighs and torso. Pulling each individual shard out after he collapsed to the floor in the reception's office forced him to muffle the agonized cries of agony by biting into the meat of his forearm. The thicker arm of Valtiel's jacket would have been a more preferred method to silence his shouts, but the jacket lay abandoned in the streets, tossed off during the rapid flight in the vague direction of the hospital. There was no chance in hell that he would continue to wear a piece of Valtiel's handiwork, not after the incidents in the police station and restaurant.

Oddly enough, the wounds remaining from his suicidal crash through the glass were not becoming infected, and the large mass of blood flow ceased almost immediately after pulling the shards free, the wound upon his neck already beginning to fade into a pale thin white scar. That amount of rapid healing frightened him, fearing that it was a symptom of whatever Pyramid Head and Valtiel had done to him.

'I don't want to know, and I don't plan to find out since I want little to do with either of them.' The two demons may have brought out something buried inside of him -- the demon within -- but he would resist as long as he was capable of fighting. They were demons, and James was not one of them. That couldn't be possible! He didn't want anything to do with them, or with this place; he wanted to leave Silent Hill immediately, forget this twisted world right out of Hell. He was James Sunderland -- recent widower, a mere human…and terribly afraid. Nothing good lay here.

He walked towards the farthest wall, trying to make as little noise as possible. Caution before stupidity, not wanting to risk the chance of someone or something hearing him. He slid down and sat knees to his chest and shoulder against a rickety shelving unit. Rolling the unlit flashlight between his palms gave him something to with nervous twitchy hands.

'All that I can do for the time being is wait. Wait for dad to get here. Hopefully sooner rather than later.'

The back of his head thumped against the wall, sharp sting providing a focus, beating a soft tempo while he attempted to organize his thoughts. Eyelids fell partially shut, using the brief time to allow his body to relax and attempt some effort of resting.

Third time his head met the wall, another foreign sound echoed.

James froze, eyes springing open.

No other sounds repeated, but he quickly tried to pinpoint how far away and which direction the noise had come from.

'Unusual sounds tend to have unusual causes.' His thoughts ran quickly. 'And right now is not the best time for anything unusual to be anywhere in the building with me.'

The noise hadn't originated in the room, and not in the storage room as well, its door just as firmly shut as the one directly in front of him. Again the noise struck, louder, and he confirmed the directly it was coming from.

Something was outside the receptionist's office.

Not a chance he would stick his head out the door into unlit halls and sneak a peek to answer the mystery of what made the strange noise.

Inch by inch he rose to his feet, holding the flashlight as a makeshift weapon warily surveying the sealed doorway across the room. He had remembered to lock the door, right? Locked firm and shut. If there were something skulking through the hallway, maybe its gaze would dismiss the office as irrelevant…

He should hope, for his sake. If anything bust through the door, and he would be completely screwed. There was only one way in and one way out. Anything managed to break down the door he was trapped.

A solid 'THUMP' upon the opposite side of the door caused him to jump in surprise, clutching his heart.

With exaggerated deliberateness, the unseen object that caused the sudden noise slowly dragged horizontally against the door's surface, continuing over the frame and wall. It continued to travel towards the right, causing the metal gate obstructing the receptionist's desk from the outside hallway rattled ceaselessly beneath the dragging weight. James' ears rang as metal screeched, as if jagged metal were being etched into the gate's face.

When it completed its circuit at the opposite end of the gate, object brutally met gate, loudly thumping again. The frame groaned James' eyes widening as a wide section of metal where the object forcefully met began buckling, the heavy metal frame futile at stopping the attack. The gate shivering like water as the object -- five pronged, slender features extending from a rounded base -- pushed against the metal as if it were paper. 'My god, it looks like someone's hand. Could someone's bare hand possibly bend such dense metal?' James realized, while the 'hand' shoved deeper and spun in a half circle, indents facing towards the door. Noises, similar to what he had heard earlier, continued obnoxious, following every reverse and exploratory sweep.

Right to left, and left to right. Again and again, the offensive sounds dragged on, rattling door, groaning walls vainly holding the gate steady, and shuddering popping metal hinting marginal success at remaining resolutely in place.

His head reared back, nervously following further ensuing noise echoing from up above him. Eerily similar to his time in the motel, nails skittering along the ceiling, dancing to and from opposite corners.

'More than one.' He observed, feeling chills ripple down his spine. His mouth soured with the acidic bite of fear as he sat silently captivated by the increased escalation of exploring hands outside thick walls. 'They know someone is inside, but they're searching with what appears to be aimless curiosity when in fact this is all a game to them.'

A companion joined the various sounds along walls and ceiling. Whispers began, soft as moths' wings, fluctuating, the frequency rising steadily until he had no hope of ignoring them or pretending that they weren't real. Voices rolled, heavy and thick as black tar.

"Warm…the heat is driving us mad…''

"Can almost taste it…'' Nails raked down the gate, screeching down as if tearing across a chalkboard. James gasped, head ringing from the grating cutting noise. The incessant noise aggravated his senses, skull throbbing as if someone were shoving large spikes into his brain.

"What's in there? What is trying to hide from us?"

"Little bird with its fluttering, beating heart." Shivering, malevolent laughter rolled in heavy waves. "Closed the cage door behind him, but look now, he's trapped."

Gales of laughter shrieked from outside.

"Who is it? Who is in there?"

"Do you think you can hide forever?"

"Humans foolish enough to wander into our paradise without a proper invitation will face the consequences." One voice admonished.

"What should we do with you, little man?" Another teased.

The chattering rose to unbearable heights, incensed by a barrage of crude, twisted inspiration.

"Rip out his bones, and use the broken pieces to carve out his eyes and tongue. Mark him as damned. Etch each curse deep into his skin!"

"Too merciful. He wouldn't survive long from that."

"Open him up, and scoop out every organ, anything we can find! After we're done, push it all back in and then sew him right up. After we've done it several times, we may consider using morphine."

Their threats continued, each worse than the last.

Until…

As one, they inhaled a deep breath. The air whistled down their black, expanding lungs.

"This scent...why is it so familiar?"

Another being pondered out loud, halting shuffling along the floor. "…this? What is this?"

"It's all over the floor."

"Did the little bird injure its wing?"

"The blood leads right to the door."

'Shit.' He had been wrong about being able to stop his wounds' heavy blood flow. He didn't realize that the blood had continued to spill for that long.

The sounds of hands dragging and scrapping the floor, catching the flecks of dry blood. Wet slaps of slippery meat smacked, slicking the ground. He realized that the creatures had begun eagerly tasting the dried fluids with their tongues.

Sighs of gluttonous gaiety cast a wave of nausea around James. He clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent the bile from rising.

"Sweet…" One moaned gutturally, throat rattling huskily. "Sweet as pain…"

"Stinging and biting…as sharply cut as spilt tears…"

"…More."

"Is there more?"

The door rattled viciously, doorknob jiggling, nearly popping the bolts loose from the frame. To his horror, the knob began slowly proceeding in turning clockwise, metal gears shrieking as they tore and were twisted about. He could hear the aged metal bolt sliding back and forth as the handle was testily jostled.

Was the bolt actually going to slide free? But the door had been locked!

Half a second later he realized, yes, he had locked it behind him.

The locking mechanism and casing cracked entirely, wood splinters spitting across the floor due to the harsh force turning the doorknob -- bent on twisting the lock into a mangled useless jumble.

Without thinking he covered the short distance between his position against the wall and door, slamming with his entire body at the exact moment a hand-width of space expanded between the door and frame.

The door slammed completely shut, James twisting around and wrestling with the doorknob, curling both hands tightly around it as it bucked against his palms.

A sharp jolt caused the door to move, slapping James hard nearly throwing him off. He braced with his feet, leaving black tread upon the floor from his dragging boots.

The door shoved forth erratically, and he shoved back. His face was turned sideways cheek pressed against wood. Every time the door opened a crack, a low trickling snarl of frustration seeped through.

'Not like this,' James' eyes squeezed shut, lips tightening into a grimace when met with each brutal crack of wood against frame. 'I made a promise. I promised to wait for Dad, to wait for him to find me.'

The beasts pounding away at the door didn't seem to tire while vicious, promising whispers droned on with threat of a fate worse than death. 'Don't they ever stop?'They may not tire easily, but James could barely hold his own against each thrust of the door against his chest.

In less than a minute, two minutes max, the door would collapse underneath the constant onslaught, allowing for the beasts to break through.

All his efforts to hide, every possible idea he could come up with in hopes of hiding his presence wasted. Because of a few drops of blood, a staggering path the demons had followed, he had sealed his own demise. Bitterly ironic.

If only. If only he had been more careful. Such a foolish mistake to make. 'I wish…' An idle entreaty broke the surface of his thoughts.

'I wish they would stop.'

As quickly as the thought struck him, the door slammed shut with a loud bang -- a sharp clap tinged with echoing finality -- and several heartbeats later still remained silent.

His eyes opened, wanting to believe that it was over; however, not risking the small step necessary to move back from the door fearful that it would suddenly fly open and the beasts would fill the doorway cackling at his sheer stupidity.

Because his face was pressed against the door, he could just make out the heavy breathing coming from the opposite side. He shivered, pinpoints of flesh rising somehow sensing the heat through the door that was radiating off the other's body.

"……James…?" Its voice steeped in wonder, a shivering vertical crackling of wood indicating the beast dragging its nails down the door's front.

"…It is you." Raw indignation bit, cutting jaggedly while fingernails gouged further into the door. "You've been hiding in here all this time, and showed no inclination to give us any sign of your presence? Why do you continue this annoying game of hide and seek?"

"The first stages of the chase excited us, but now that everything is as it should be, we grow tired of these incessant acts of petulance."

"Is that your answer for everything that startles or frightens you? Pout or run away?"

Another hummed as if deeply in thought. "Perhaps we expect too much, too soon. After all --"

"You are not even three days old now." Another finished.

'W-What?' That made no sense. Three days old? How did they arrive at such a number? What nonsense was this?

Three days. The only incidents that had occurred within the past three days --

No. No way. There lay no ties to what had occurred in the restaurant…

…Right?

The whispers from outside began to heat up, as if arguing amongst themselves until one voice snapped loudly, cutting through the dull drone of voices.

"Quiet."

All voices previously hissing their faint whispers halted, attention focused on the other.

"Get out. Now." Restless shuffling, stepping away from the door. "He's here." Panic threaded its voice.

Soft gasps of surprise preceded the quick silence that immediately rose. Within seconds, the hallway fell into eerie silence. Only James' shaky breathing was audible. The beasts moved so quietly, skilled predators exhibiting no signs of their sudden arrival or hasty exit. Something terrible had frightened them away.

Or was it a ploy meant to ease his guard?

Anticipating the worst, he took a tiny step backwards while his hands remained flat and braced against the door, ready for it to snap towards his face.

Radiating heat flowed across his back, heavy breath rustling the hairs falling down his nape.

Instinct brought forth a frightened shout. "SHI--mmmmppphh!" A smooth gloved hand muffled the sharp cry. Lifted effortlessly off his feet, James was brutally spun around and away from the door. The desk pushed against the farthest side of the receptionist's office broke James' momentum, his body falling haphazardly across its width.

Broad palms encased slimmer hands, trapping them flat on top the desk's surface. Heavy weight molded against his back, muscling James to lean further upon the dusty furniture. From above the corner of his eye, he could just make out the length and shape of a familiar red helmet. "You…" He hissed, trying to form some rational explanation for how Pyramid Head had managed to find a way into the office without any other access except through the storage door and receptionist room's door. Both entryways remaining unopened and silent, offering no possible answers.

His heartbeat raced, entire chest rising and falling to catch up with the mad push and pull of his lungs. James wasn't waiting or anticipating receiving any answer from the demon. Their previous encounters had yielded no decipherable verbal responses.

He was shocked when he did. Words flowed like water inside his head, lapping along the interior of his skull.

"RUNNING AWAY ONLY PROLONGS THE INEVITABLE."

"It -- it's a form of personal amusement." Sarcasm didn't impress Pyramid Head. The demon's hands shifted until their fingers intertwined, leaning further atop James eliciting a gasp of discomfort, weight settling and pushing James tight against the desk. "You're heavy." He snapped.

A heavy chuckle echoed inside Pyramid Head's helmet. The point of the helmet touched the desk beside his head as the demon leaned closer, brushing aside the soft blond bangs plastered to James' forehead.

Pyramid Head's voice grew louder due to the closer proximity, his next words spoken with a hint of sardonic gratification and mirth. "YOU ENJOYED IT SEVERAL DAYS AGO."

James' blush wasn't visible, but the heat rising from the crimson flush across his cheeks betrayed the man's frosty words. "That was a mistake!" He bucked, shoving backwards in an attempt to throw the other off. "It was sick and wrong. How could I possibly enjoy that both of you were nearly raping me!" He spat.

Pyramid Head's response came quickly, viciously pushing James flat, air forced from his chest with a pained gasp until he could barely draw breath. "I'M GUILTY OF MANY THINGS. I WON'T APOLOGIZE FOR ANY OF THEM." The demon snarled, rage manifesting visible tremors from the man beneath him. "BUT DON'T DARE CONFUSE RAPE AND SEX WITH WHAT WE SHARED. RAPE IS CERTAIN DEATH WHEN DELIVERED BY THE HANDS OF DEMONS."

"What we did was wrong." James whispered, coughs invoked by large clouds of dust brought upon by constantly bumping into the desk and shoving the furniture back inch by inch.

"WRONG BY YOUR DEFINITION. YOU LABEL SUCH A THING AS A SIN. WHY? IT IS A SIN, EVEN THOUGH SOME HUMANS NO MATTER HOW HARD THEY DENY IT, ACTUALLY LUST FOR IT?" Pyramid Head's right hand released him, sliding across his chest and then down, barely fitting into the scant space between James' hips and desk, fingers encasing the man's groin, "OR WRONG BECAUSE YOU ENJOYED IT?" He finished.

"I don't know." Admitting the ugly head of fear aloud provided James no solace. "I don't know." His head was pounding; it hurt so much.

A hollow thumpthump, distant echoing heartbeat, made his stomach roll and throat clench. Nausea choked, acid biting at his tongue. A feeling similar to hot metal lanced within his skull. "Haaaah--" James' body jolted, ineffectively arching to escape the pain, millions of tiny thorns of agony digging underneath his flesh.

Dry retching, he shook, as if suddenly hit by a chilling wind. Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the pain merely caused his vision to swim. Something wasn't right...Such horrible agony... "I don't feel very good. What's happening... I -- I need time to think...but... I'm having a hard time thinking straight." His mad babble spoke clearly about how his senses were overrun by the pain.

"YOU'RE IN PAIN."

"Strange..." James whispered. A nagging constant hum began to rise, trembling inside his skull. He hadn't felt anything like this in the past several days. His stomach twisted, knotting tight until he half-feared he was going to throw up…and it had suddenly become too hot. The rising fever drew out a whimper of discomfort. He groaned around the cloying acid that clenched his throat within a mighty fist, "It hit so quickly..."

"YOUR BLOOD IS BEGINNING TO BOIL FROM THE INSIDE.." Pyramid Head assessed, left hand brushing a path through the light film of sweat spread over his forehead.

"Wro-wrong. Half -- half true." James corrected, teeth chattering. "Cold…" The fever fell as quickly as it had spiked. Flesh and blood felt like ice. His lungs were heavy, every breath taking a great deal of effort to draw in. "What's happening?" He gasped, beginning to tremble violently.

"YOU ARE DYING."

Shock formed a solid weight that dropped from his throat and landed in his gut, and James forcefully choked out, "What?" Disbelief made his words tremble. That's it? Just like that, lay that kind of statement on the table, and announce it with such offhandedness?

"YOUR HUMAN SHELL IS BEING DISCARDED. YOU ARE BEING REBORN." Pyramid Head informed, calm, polar opposite with the emotions currently suffocating James. His hand slid down, fingers trailing above trembling skin. "NO FEAR." He imposed, forcefully turning James' head towards the left until he could just make out the outline of the red helmet, until James couldn't pretend that the demon was a horrible figment of his imagination.

"Don't talk to me about fear, or whether or not I should feel it!" James snapped, glare scorching hot. "You're not the one who is dying. I happen to enjoy being human, and I don't plan on changing that any time soon!"

"IT'S NOT YOUR CHOICE."

"It's not yours, either!"

"YOU ARE A FOOL TO BELIEVE THAT." Pyramid Head contested.

"And you're arrogant to believe that." James snarled, arching back, shoving his head against Pyramid Head's unbreakable grip.

Pyramid Head heaved a rumbling sigh of aggravation. "YOUR HUMANITY RULES YOUR TONGUE. SUCH SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS."

"If I'm such an irritation, then let me go and I'll leave you in peace." James' offer met with deep rolling laughter resonating within the demon's helmet.

"CLEVER."

James cursed, shuddering as another wave of fever assaulted his senses. "I don't want this." It was beyond unfair; choice stolen from him, leaving behind the inevitable crumbling of his human body to be replaced by the demon ascending from beneath his flesh. An ember of power rolled brightly inside the heart of the black miasma roared, burning hot and alive. The sensation robbed his breath, flooding his veins with elicit pleasure that his rebellious body ached for, rocking within the power's seductive whispers.

The dark promises mixed with his body's betrayal made his mouth burn from acid, threatening to retch due to conflicting convictions. 'It shouldn't feel this good…I don't want to feel this…'

'Yes I do.'

'I don't want to become one of the monsters that hide inside my nightmares.'

'I don't want to be weak. Humans live for only so long. They fight to live, but they soon falter and die!'

'These feelings and desires are a sin.'

'These feelings promise rebirth and power.'

Gloved hands slid away, rising and clenching atop round shoulders. A shadow fell, blackening his peripheral vision. "DO NOT BE AFRAID OF DEATH. INSTEAD…SAVOR THE PROMISE OF YOUR REBIRTH. THEN THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT TO FEAR. YOU WILL BECOME THE PALE BEAST, RELEASING OR DEVOURING THE SOULS THAT ARE WEAK OR LACK THE DESIRE TO KEEP LIVING.

"THE CYCLE OF REBIRTH HAS ALREADY BEGUN, AND ITS SHARP, BITING DANCE REPEATED AGAIN AND AGAIN, CHASING YOU DOWN UNTIL YOU HAD NOWHERE LEFT TO HIDE. PLEASURE. PAIN. FEAR. DOUBT. BLOOD. SEX. YOU FELT ALL OF THESE WHILE WE BEGAN BREAKING YOU APART AND REVEALING THE CAGED BEAST WITHIN.

"NOW YOUR EYES ARE FINALLY OPEN. YOU CAN BREATHE AND TASTE THE WORLD AROUND YOU. NOTHING IS BEYOND YOUR GRASP!

"YOU HAVE COME SO FAR, BUT IT IS NOT OVER. WE MUST CONTINUE.

"BLOOD HAS BEEN SHED. NOW IT IS OUR TURN TO SHED CRIMSON AND SPILL OUR POWER, AND FILL YOUR AWAKENED BODY WITH OUR MARK, AND MOLD THE LAST OF THE SEALS NECESSARY TO FINALIZE YOUR EXISTENCE."

"How can you possible begin such an attempt?" James demanded, finding the impassioned boasts difficult to believe.

He was ashamed to admit a sharp startled yelp escaped from the loud clang caused by Pyramid Head's hands ripping away and heaving the heavy helmet off wide shoulders, the red pyramid headpiece cracking tile as it hit the floor.

Hands trembled atop the desk's surface, goose bumps invoked as larger hands slid down to grasp the waist of his pants, long fingers snapping open both belt and zipper.

"REMEMBER. BLOOD AND SEX, EACH REPRESENTING LIFE AND DEATH. THE CYCLE NEVER ENDS. LACED WITHIN POWER YOU CAN NOT YET COMPREHEND, PURE ESSENCE FORGED BY DEMONS. MELD AND SHAPE EACH SEAL AND CONNECTION WITH THESE ELEMENTS."

James' head reeled, comprehension dawning. 'Oh my god.'

It made sense. They would continue where they had left off in the restaurant. A distant hysterical portion of his mind noted that the entire scenario felt like some cheap plot for an indecent pornographic film. 'If I didn't know any better, I would be laughing uncontrollably.'

Whether by good fortune or otherwise, James' consciousness supplemented reality by focusing once again on the increased sensations of hands roaming his body. Instinctively his hands shot downward to catch the waist of his pants, barely halting the strong grip tugging within his grasp.

"YOU CAN'T STOP THIS." Pyramid Head warned, James' body betraying him once again, instinctively faltering beneath the warning tone. 'Can't stop this, everything keeps tumbling out of my control. I can barely remember what it is that I'm trying to fight.' Hands slackened, allowing barely enough escape for his pants to sag and puddle around his ankles, tangling both feet.

A prolonged sound of rending fabric signaled the demise of his boxers, strips of the shredded cloth sliding down flank and calves. He shivered, air chilly against newly revealed skin. Humiliation stained James' face, and he twisted uncomfortably as the smooth edges of the desk dug further into both hips. In one last attempt to salvage the last dregs of his pride, James tried to tug down the hem of his shirt in effort to shield his buttocks and thighs.

Again, Pyramid Head interceded. Pushing James' hands aside, the demon shoved the shirt up, all the way to tangle underneath the man's armpits, further revealing a vast map of flesh that shivered ceaselessly beneath his hands.

The butcher's apron felt ice cold along James' backside, a large center of heat pushing against the crease of his buttocks. Instinctively arching into the hard pool of warmth and pushing away from chilled rubber and latex, James was shocked by the low moan that escaped the Red Pyramid. The desk beneath them rocked, shoved forward several inches with James pushed flat as the demon arched in response against James, digging his groin harder against the man's backside.

'Shit…' James gasped, dismayed by how easily his body arched against Pyramid Head's, like an animal in heat. The heat between Pyramid Head's legs grew, the covered bulge just beginning to spread apart pale cheeks.

James grappled for a handhold, curling his hands over the opposite edge of the desk. He could not go forward, and he hesitated to push back against the solid wall of flesh that stole away every single doubt, threatening to test all his sanity. "It won't fit. It won't fit! That -- thing! -- Will tear me apart." James realized he was babbling out loud.

Pyramid Head leaned completely over, long hair tickling up his back like a lover's teasing fingers. His mouth brushed the shell of James' ear, smiling as James' eyes closed and arched helplessly into the charged caress. "DEMON BLOOD AND DEMON FLESH. TAKE IT ALL IN. THIS BODY CAN TAKE MORE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE."

"Please, listen." James gasped, face tucked against Pyramid Head's. "I can't do this. I've never been with a man before! My body won't be able to take it in. You're too big. You'll tear me open." The horrible possibilities danced around in his head. Torn muscles, tendrils of blood snaking down his legs. Leaving behind a bleeding, broken bag of meat.

"IT IS TIME."

'Please listen to me!' James pleaded. 'There is no possible way that this will work out.' "Don't do this--" He began.

His entreaties were cut short by two latex fingers thrust between his lips. He bulked against the fingers assaulting his mouth, choking over the sour taste of old blood, metallic stinging flavor tangled with saliva. The fingers scrapped edges of blunt teeth, delving and stroking deeper until they were fully buried.

James winced due to fingers twisting until the appendages finally grew wet, slim trail of saliva pushed out the corner of his lips, moisture increasing from numerous thrusts of Pyramid Head's fingers. The demon's thumb pushed between the space before the lower and upper jaw connection, encouraging James' mouth to remain wide open.

Finally, after several seconds, but feeling like several hours, slick fingers slipped out caressing damp and swollen red lips. James swallowed, coughing around excess saliva slipping down his dry throat.

Wet fingertips slid down ridged spine and smoothed between pale cheeks, probing the edge of tight untouched flesh. He cringed, lunging forward as far as he could manage, snapping his legs together. 'It won't work. Saliva won't be enough lubrication.' His exertions were halted when a strong hand pushed down at the base of his spine, firmly holding him in place. Pyramid Head's rigid thighs shoved his apart, awkwardly tilting shoulders and spine until James felt muscles trembling with strained effort from the forced slanted position.

His short ragged breaths spread a light mist upon wood, lips pressed tight together as a single finger slowly began a steady breech, fighting against the resisting ring of muscle. It never occurred to James to attempt relaxing constricted muscles and possibly easing the steady burning sensation. The long thin foreign object delving deep caused his body to instinctively jerk away, pain snapping his attention into rapt focus when bare groin and hips pushed too deep into wood and spread scraped, dark bruises.

Saliva eased the passage, allowing the single finger to move back and forth inch by inch until Pyramid Head's hand was buried up to the knuckle. The appendage crooked slightly, stroking the trembling walls.

At some point the demon's explorations nudged a particular unfamiliar spot nestled inside. The reaction was immediate, James' body jolting as if shot through with a bolt of lightning. Blobs of light and shadow filled his vision, nearly blinding him, a low moan of surprise shuddering free. He gasped, pushing forward until his chin dug into his chest.

Pyramid Head's grin brushed the corner of James' throat, hand sliding until finding the spot again, applying steady pressure until the man's shoulders underneath him trembled like a race horse. Small indistinguishable sounds echoed every push, every stroke that wrung out another unbearable spike of fever and electricity.

A second slick finger joined the first. James winced as the passage widened forcefully, muscles constricted so tight that Pyramid Head's fingers were temporarily locked in place. Resorting to distraction to relieve James' agitated state, his free hand skimmed between desk and chest, stroking the straining rib cage and down the stomach's trembling curved line. A thin shivering strand of sweat trickled between the man's shoulder blades, mapping the ridges of his spine. James moaned softly as a keen tongue followed the glistening trail, snaking further and capturing the tiny crystal bead.

Multiple bold caresses divided James' focus, allowing Pyramid Head's hand and fingers unlimited access to spread -- twisting deep and causing molten fire to stretch him farther apart -- preparing the body beneath him.

Patience was steadily becoming Pyramid Head's adversary. The dam of control threatened increasingly to crumble into pieces, steady levels of fire flooding his body, filling his groin until his head pounded from blood spilling hotter throughout each limb. Each trembled lowly and with ill-contained violence, using every ounce of restraint to hold back just long enough.

Repeated careful motions rewarded his efforts, both fingers finally sliding in and out with little resistance. Bands of saliva leaked from the pink opening, released by the hand's constant thrusts.

Potent, inescapable hunger quickly stole away last remaining reserves. Fingers pulled back, temporarily abandoning the man's open trembling body. For the first time, his hands fumbled, following a steady growl of frustration rattling his teeth while he fought with the front string ties that kept the butcher's apron closed. Finally, nearly shredding the bands into thin strands, Pyramid Head worked himself free, baring a tall expanse of legs and stomach, lust evident by the large shaft flagging high. He smoothly guided the shaft with his hand until the head kissed James' entrance, steady fluids pouring up and lubricating the length.

James froze when something far wider and unbearably hot stroked inside flushed spread cheeks. Preparing to rear back against the weight nudging buttock and thighs, he was too slow to properly counter the sudden appearance of hands sliding atop his own still clutching the edge of the desk. Long fingers laced, trapping his hands, Pyramid Head's longer body settling upon him. The demon's long hair created a curtain half-masking both their expressions, ivory strands weaving like snakes as James' breath heaved causing the strands to dance in front of his face.

Slowly and persistent Pyramid Head began to push forward. The stubborn ring of muscle guarding the entry momentarily halted the invasion, but soon flesh bowed to the demon's superior strength. James reeled, crying out ragged as the shaft's head breached, the mouth of James' entrance clenching like a fist around the invading length. Pyramid Head's neck arched back, lips pulled wide and teeth bared in a silent howl of exhilaration, head and shoulders contorting viciously.

Raw heat burned his insides, James panting around his body's efforts at resisting the invader. Resistance was futile, the demon sinking deeper inch by inch, and James' body rocked forcefully from each brief and yet powerful push. "Ow…" Words did little to exhibit how much his body was enduring. "…Ow. Its going to rip open--" He warned, ready for the first tear to rip open his insides and blood to spill out and down his bare thighs.

He had feared the pain, and yet while it did twinge sharply, surprise filtered through because he wasn't screaming in agony. He was unfamiliar with anal sex, but felt certain that virginity tied with lack of lubrication signified higher risks of pain and internal damage. And yet while he suffered through a steady aching burn, there was no sign of anything remotely treacherous occurring deep inside newly stretched muscles. In fact, James felt only minimal discomfort like he had done a long strenuous marathon.

'Is this what he meant by demon blood and demon flesh?' He wondered. His head turned to the side, just capable of making out the decreasing space that separated their two bodies as Pyramid Head slowly sank deeper inside. 'Is this living proof of how much I can take?'

At last, Pyramid Head filled every centimeter of his body's most guarded territory. The demon released a low sigh of contentment, frozen as he lay across James in a moment to relish warm flesh and cooling sweat. Their chests and backs rose and fell in tempo, mouths brushing unintentionally as they fought to steady a single breath.

Control returning again Pyramid Head rolled his shoulders, hips following, pulling backwards. A rough slide of hard flesh left James shuddering breathlessly, and he moaned at the feeling of indescribable emptiness when Pyramid Head pulled almost completely out.

His moan shifted into a low shout of earnest surprised as Pyramid Head shoved back in, snapping forward sweat dampened skin slapped together as the lubrication spread, allowing the demon to slide all the way without any resistance. James pushed instinctively into his mate, rocked by a familiar spike of electric ecstasy. Pyramid Head hissed against his neck, savoring James' wanton response. Hands squeezing over James before he reared back and thrust forward in a brutal attack that left both crying out softly, breaths harsh and guttered.

Pyramid Head swallowed his cries by meshing lips and tongues, teeth nipping deep to leave shallow grooves along James' jaw and throat. James bowed beneath the demon's domination, not fighting the bites or tastes. His mouth tingled, singed alive, no space left unmolested. A strange wave of fever stole his mind, leaving him shocked at his bravado when he caught Pyramid Head's bottom lip with bared teeth biting down hard enough that a dark bruise would be left behind. The demon exhibited surprise but did not appear remotely offended, lip trapped but remained smiling darkly as he allowed James to assert himself. James eventually released the swollen flesh, but not before tracing the tip of his tongue to sooth the throbbing mark.

Pyramid Head's lips twisted with pleasure, enjoying the portrait of James' flushed face, bright eyes, and bruised lips. He rocked forward and back, never breaking his gaze. Memorizing each flutter of lashes and pinching of lips as James mewled helplessly, struggling fiercely in attempt to move with him. But he kept James trapped, using his strength and assaulting James' body and wringing unending pleasure and frustration by preventing the man from moving unrestrained. The more times he filled James, more responses escaped. James growled in frustration, pushing back with surprising morbid strength. Pyramid Head easily countered, pushing right back and forcing the other man --no, that term would soon be inappropriate -- forcing the other 'demon' to submit.

James warred with himself, a distant part of him screaming at him to fight, to resist submitting. At the same time, he arched rebelliously, seeking the weight of the demon holding him down and reaching deep inside.

'Too fast…this is happening too fast. I need time to think this through…'

"Wait…just wait…" His efforts to stop, let alone slow Pyramid Head down, held no true power. James' forehead dropped, vision shot with sparks following each thorough thrust pushing all the way back in. Caught inside a dizzying haze James watched his body being filled, able to observe the large shaft plunging forward and back visible between spread legs. He flushed, embarrassed by the evidence of his own enjoyment, matched by the wet lust pushed out by Pyramid Head's thrusts until fluid trickled downward coating both their abdomens and thighs.

A hiss, followed by a brief shot of pain. Gloved hand twisting his hair, jerking his head back, pressing his neck and shoulders back until furnace-hot flesh hit his. The hand held him firm, while teeth raked the side of his throat, scraping sweat-damp flesh until burning red.

Need me, want me. Beg for me, ache for me.

"Hhhaa--" James wound his fingers with the handle enveloping the bare length of his groin, smoothing up and down, squeezing and driving him into madness. His legs trembled, spread by a thick thigh wedging him open, baring him wide and allowing the other to feast and move against him at his leisure.

Sin for me, tremble for me. Burn into me, devour me whole.

Orgasm snapped him up between sharp, merciless fangs, wrenching him open, dragging screams with each push and pull as the demon continued to breach and fill every last inch of him.

There was no reprieve, no matter how much he ached to collapse, desperately wishing to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. James' blood burning, boiling hot, and he imaging dancing ribbons of steam unfurling from his flesh. His hip ached, the brand sketched by the hands of both Valtiel and Pyramid Head burning ruby bright, fresh trickles of blood seeping from the weeping wound, scabs ripped open by their brutal mating dance.

Suddenly pulled back, James cried out as hands wrenched away, only to slam flat upon the desk, pushing and pressing him down, Pyramid Head mercilessly pounding into him, wringing his own pleasure from his prostate form. Static raced up and down his spine, gratifying pleasure crackling even after having experienced an orgasm barely a minute prior.

Pyramid Head's thrusts slowed, indicating the rushing pinnacle that signaled onrushing climax. James flinched as the wood beneath his face groaned, the demon's fingers splitting the desk top, bone-white splinters exploding from the stressed furniture.

A low, trembling roar built slowly, rattling from Pyramid Head's throat, head thrown back and teeth bared in a low snarl of pained ecstasy. Finally reaching that illusive crest, pleasure spilled throughout each limb and across every nerve, cooking him from the inside while cock pushed as deep as he could possibly reach, spreading and spilling his essence into the body beneath him.

James screamed. More due to pain than from anything remotely resembling pleasure. The liquid head spilling into him, coating his insides, burned and scalded every inch it touched. He forcefully pushed back, desperately trying to wrench himself free, hoping to slip the still-hard flesh from his body.

He was pushed back down flat, screaming, shrieking as furnace-hot hands held his shoulders still, blisters rising and popping, weeping bitterly as his flesh burned, as he was cooked alive from the inside and out.

Each breath was sacrificed for another wailing scream, the demon's hands sliding over pale flesh, painting skin with blisters and fire. Second and third degree burns rippled to life underneath his hands. Pyramid Head purred at the sight, moving luxuriously against the body still wrapped tightly around him, firm and wet and holding them close until they were nearly one entire body.

No path of skin was left untainted. Cracks literally tore across his flesh, baring wet muscles as his skin appeared to crumble and burn to dust. Beneath it all, milk-white skin glistened, rising up, as damp and fragile as a newborn's tender meat.

"......Oh god!.." James weeped, blistered lips catching the stray tears that fell from pained, tightly squeezed eyes. Red veins pushed up, flushed against his cheeks, sharp points trailing along the edges of his lips and eyelids. Blood pumped beneath the scorched flesh, his entire body a massive, bleeding, open wound. Glistening skin, burning, blinding as a thousand pearls spilled into a bowl of water, peeked through the ragged meat that hissed and spit upon the new flesh slowly revealing itself.

He gagged, chest heaving, choked by the stench of the popping and blistered burning flesh — stiffened by blisters and tears, blood and salt — while it began to fall and slide free, freeing him from the disgusting chrysalis hiding a new body deep inside. Dry and wet pieces slapped the floor, the agonized pain and sacrificed flesh baring new untainted flesh rippling through the last vestiges of the human skin that adorned aching muscles that trembled, reborn and suddenly, entirely alive.

Trembling like a freshly run racehorse, bones and sinew cracked as his body unconsciously rolled, sacrificing the last straggling lines of meat hanging off his form. He moaned, too weak to prop himself up, slumping over the desk, arms stretched forward and back stretched, as if awaiting a whip to strike down and sunder the trembling line of his form.

He moaned weakly, crying brokenly, suffocating on the horribly stink of the rotten flesh encircling him, creating a ring of decay around his legs that shook with every ounce of effort, barely keeping him from falling down and never getting up. A shadow fell over him, and James automatically flinched, expecting more pain and agony.

When hands slid along his flesh, however, a different kind of heat scorched him. Hypersensitive flesh sang, nerves singing a chorus, milking each glide and press of fingers and palm, dragging each scrap of pleasure they could hold tight.

Pyramid Head groaned, glorified by the success and rebirth. James lay weak and trembling, but the outcome was worth the agony he had been forced to endure. Casting aside the disgusting shell of humanity, finally revealing the true flesh that had been waiting for so long until his time would one day come.

Blood and flesh had been sacrificed. The first part of the ritual long past. Finally, the beginning of the second phase.

Overlapping the stench of humanity with the hell-fire of his own body, Pyramid Head had scorched and cauterized the open wound, allowing for the last part of the second phase.

The fever had been quenched with fire. Now it waited, needing to be cooled by the ice to rival the Pits.

And then...

Then would come the final phase.

Rebirth.

Although it pained him to do so, Pyramid Head forced himself to slip free, releasing a low hiss and forlorn groan, already missing the firm body beneath him.

Released, finally, James gasped as his legs gave out, no longer held up by the demon. He collapsed, sliding down the side of the desk. He huddled low, hands grasping the waist of his pants, struggling to pull the fabric up and push his shirt down to shield his hypersensitive, naked limbs. Shame, fear, and confusion warred inside, smothering the trembling vestiges of pleasure, cursing their encounter. He berated himself for having stupidly allowed himself to believe that anything besides pain could ever coexist with the demon that persisted in constantly confusing and tormenting him.

Pyramid Head snorted at that action. Not the least bit amused by James' modesty, he reached down, catching James' chin and pulling him forward. James flinched, cowed, still anticipating the burn and bit of Pyramid Head's firm hands.

"PAIN IS THE PROOF THAT YOU ARE ALIVE. YOU SHED YOUR HUMANITY, AND BLIND ME WITH BEAUTY AS YOU CONTINUE TO REVEAL YOUR TRUE SELF." His other hand slid down, pushing between thighs that attempted to clamp tightly shut to prevent his touch. He stroked his fingers up and down, caressing cock, scrotum, and valley, slicking his fingers along the juices that coated James' thighs and buttocks.

James turned his face away, flushed and embarrassed, not wanting to witness the shark-like grin as the other stroked the evidence of their joining. Lips brushed his turned cheek, drawing a shuddering intake of air, large form pushing firmly against him, rubbing and causing his body to sing once again, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

"REMEMBER ME." Pyramid Head purred, rubbing his hand forward and back, until he could feel the slow stirring between James' legs. "NO MATTER HOW FAR YOU RUN, OR HOW LONG YOU CONTINUE TO DENY, REMEMBER ME. JUST AS MUCH AS I REMEMBER THE WAY YOU SOUND, THE WAY YOU FEEL..."

Still not looking, James clearly felt the hand slowly — teasing him, drawing out each quiver and shaken breath — as it slid away, only the be followed by a slick tongue that lapped at the edge of his lips, slipping along the seam of his mouth.

"THE WAY YOU TASTE AND THE WAY YOU SCREAM AND CRY FOR MORE; EVEN WHEN YOU BEG FOR IT TO STOP WHILE BEGGING FOR IT NEVER TO END." Words whispered against his lips, breath ghosting his cheeks.

"I'LL SEE YOU SOON."

A promise that would undoubtedly be kept.

James waited until complete silence fell. There was no distinct tread of boots, nor the sound of a door opening and being shut. Instead, the presence of the demon merely vanished, just as mysteriously as it had suddenly appeared.

Still, anticipating that anything could possibly await him, James carefully turned his head, scanning the dark room around him.

Finding himself alone, he quickly took the opportunity to dress, gasping as his clothes slid in place, flesh still so receptive that every scrape of cotton and jeans tore his breath away.

It took almost twenty minutes, but at last, he managed to fully dress. He tried to ignore the dampness between his legs, and the uncomfortable yet pleasurable ache pulsing within the valley of his buttocks.

His legs were still stiff, however, from the...intercourse, and the physical and emotional shock of being burned alive, only to be reborn.

James scoffed at that. If that what was necessary in order to be reborn, then he had little desire to see what else was in store for him.

Half-striding, half hobbling, trying to stretch the twinges and shakiness out of his legs, James approached the door with caution, ready to act in whatever manner necessary.

He listened, and waiting, listening for any telltale signs on the other side of the door.

After hearing nothing for several minutes, he dared to close his hand over the knob. As smooth and as quiet as possible, he swung the door open, wincing as the frame creaked, metal and wood bearing long deep grooves from the hands that had assaulted them earlier. The components of the locks were ripped apart, broken beyond repair, shattered pieces hanging out of the lock frame.

On high alert, he stepped into the hallway, barely able to make out anything a few inches beyond his face. His footsteps sounded too loud in the seemingly empty hallway, each scrape and shuffle pounding as loud as each heart beat that flooded his hearing.

His hands fumbled along the walls, using the rough surface as his guide and support. Slow and quiet, he pushed forward, searching for any direction that harbored safety and temporary shelter.

Up ahead, separated by no more than fifty feet, a thin horizontal rectangle of light pierced the darkness, skimming just above the surface of the floor.

He was almost to the main doors.

James breathed an internal sigh of relief, beyond happy that something, at least something, appeared to be working for him.

He hurried forward, not wanting to miss the opportunity that lay before him.

He was so focused upon the small, shivering beam of light, that he felt the onrushing presence far too late.

Long sinewy arms caged him from behind, entangling him like a fly caught snug and tight within a web. His feet were lifted clear off the ground, kicking uselessly as he was heaved into the air.

His back crashed into an adjacent wall situated just across from the main doors. Before he could fight back, his wrists were enwrapped tight, fingers holding them firmly beside his head against the wall. Feeling a large form sliding along his torso, he kicked feebly, trying to shove the body away.

James' legs were forced wide open, straddling firm hips that rocked against his. Gasping, fear and adrenaline pumping through him, he wrenched left and right, attempting to slip free.

A face pressed close, filling the narrow range of sight that was available to him.

"You..." James gasped, in shock, not having truly anticipated another encounter so soon.

The other's head tilted, neck rolling, lolling from shoulder to shoulder. He slid forward until their cheeks connected, pushing forward like a large feline curling towards a warm body. James sat, frozen, not knowing how to respond, escape almost certainly impossible because of such close proximity.

As if anyone could truly escape when Valtiel was in the mood to play.

"IT'S BEEN TOO LONG, LITTLE BROKEN ANGEL." Valtiel's voice sighed, caressing his mind like a blanket of silk. Valtiel pushed against him, and James muffled a low groan of dismay against the crook of Valtiel's collar, cursing his traitorous body as it eagerly responded to the cool body rolling against his. Valtiel's shoulders shuddered, indicating his pleasure at gaining a response from the blonde. "SO WARM..." His voice rolled.

The hands released his wrists, sliding to clasp James' face, fingers brushing lips, the arch of his cheeks, and the corner of his eyes. Through the mask — a grotesque yet enrapturing mixture of flesh and plastic, shining like a china doll's lacquered, plump cheeks — thin lips were just visible, stretched wide in a exhilarated grin.

Panting raggedly, from the adrenaline high and the close, too close proximity of the demon, who stretched luxuriously against his helpless victim, James' lips trembled. Valtiel's lips skimmed them, dipping and mapping every scant breath and trembling dance of swollen flesh, still bright and ripe from their time under Pyramid Head's own lips and hands.

"WE HAVE SO MUCH TIME TO MAKE UP FOR."

"No...no..." James whimpered, already expecting what would come next.

"I'VE WAITED FOR SO LONG. JUST FOR YOU." Valtiel murmured, sucking in a breath, seemingly tasting James with that deep breath. "DON'T DENY ME."

"No no no.....nooooo.." James shook his head furiously, hands scrabbling as Valtiel's shoulders, trying to push the rock-solid body away. His body burned, ached for the cool body that teased him, playing him like an instrument. 'Not again. Not like this. I won't play their games any more.' He swore.

"SAY THAT YOU WANT THIS." Valtiel cajoled, raining bare touches, temptation teasing along the arch of his throat. "SAY IT, JAMES." His hands squeezed, drawing a startled squeak and wide hands pulled him forward until their eyes would meet if Valtiel's face revealed anything besides the arch of bone and cartilage outlining his eye sockets. "SAY IT!"

His mouth opened, but the words escaped him. He didn't know whether to refuse or bend. James shuddered, fighting an internal battle that he felt unsure that he could possibly win.

"I can't..." He pleaded for the other to stop his assault.

Before he could muster any further words, they both jumped as the main doors rattled, startling both into silence.

The doors shook, refusing to budge, locked and under guard of the chains wrapped like sliver snakes around the door handles. 'Why didn't I notice that it had already been locked from the inside?' James wondered distantly.

"James!" He jumped at the sound of his name. "James! Are you in there!"

'Dad...'

"Dad." James murmured, realization slowly sinking in. "Dad--"

He was cut off by the startling growl that rumbled against his chest. Valtiel twisted around, hands still pinning James to the wall. He observed the door, body wound tight will ill-concealed rage.

"INSECT." Valtiel hissed.

"IF YOU'RE SO EAGER TO DIE, I AM ALL TOO WILLING TO LEAD THE WAY TO YOUR GRAVE." He promised, legs shifting to push him up onto his feet. Frank, unaware of the danger on the other side of the door, continued to pound at the door, muttering curses as the door refused to allow him access.

Not realizing that a real monster stood on the other side, capable and ready to break him down and tear him into miniscule pieces.

James jumped, realizing Valtiel's intent before he had first spoke at his father's interruption. 'No, no!'

Valtiel paused, and James realized that he must have spoken out loud at one moment. "No, don't." He begged, darting forward, hands clasping Valtiel's forearm. Valtiel's gaze trailed down the length of his arm, across the hands wrapped around his limb, until they met James'. If he wanted, he could quite obviously break loose, and subsequently break every bone in James' hands if he so desired.

"He's...he's my father. You can't do this! Not him! He's not involved in any of this!"

"HE SACRIFICED HIS SAFETY THE MOMENT HE STEPPED INTO MY HOME, INTO MY HOUSE!" The last words were a shout that left James' ears ringing, the roar rivaling the pounding surf of a raging tide.

"Please.." James, again, begged. "I don't want him to die."

Valtiel shifted, crouching down back into the previous position. James' hands fell limp, allowing the demon to slid forward until not a sliver of space separated them. Hands cradled the back of his skull, arching and positioning him more comfortably, tucking him further into Valtiel's embrace and mercy.

"AND WHAT WOULD YOU TRADE IN ORDER TO SAVE THE ONE YOU LOVE SO DEARLY?" He demanded.

James suspected that Valtiel already knew the answer, but waited patiently, wanting to savor the words that would come from James' own lips.

"WHAT IS HIS LIFE WORTH?"

James swallowed, mustering his courage. Trembling like a leaf, his voice counterbalanced the trepidation that followed the answer. "My freedom for his. Spare him. Spare him, and take me in his place."

The smile would perhaps be beautiful, masked or not, had it not been partnered with the trickling laugh and the corrosive terror that threatened to drown James in a sea of utter despair.

Valtiel laughed, too low for the human outside the doors to hear, but loud enough for the human in front of him. James' head fell back, eyes brimming with tears as he allowed himself to grieve, to despair after coming so close, so near to reaching his father, and escaping this Hell, only to willingly tumble down into its depths. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I don't think I'll be able to keep my promise."

Valtiel lapped up the tears that slid down bitterly, cutting across James' cheeks. "AND HOW SWEET, HOW RICH, COMPLETE SURRENDER TASTES."

TBC