Last Rites

Chapter 1

EWEN

The vibe in this bar is intense. Between the loud drunk people, the overly obnoxious bagpipe music coming out of every speaker, and the limited space between the bodies crammed in here, I have officially reached my limit.

This isn’t my normal routine. I’m currently sitting at Murphy’s, an Irish pub not far from my apartment, with my roommate, Caleb, and all our friends to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, wearing an offensively bright green shirt with cheap shamrock beads around my neck.

“Are you really sure you want to go into the seminary after we graduate?” a drunken Emily asks.

She’s asked me this question every time we’ve been together since I told her my plan to become a priest. I think it’s because she has a crush on me and wants to hook up, but like every time before, I just nod and hope that she’ll finally stop asking.

“Yeah Em, that’s what I want to do with my life,” I say, but that only gets me her pouty face.

“I just feel like there’s more to life than talking about religion,” she slurs, but I understand drunk Emily.

Her gaze scans up and down my body. It’s not a new thing but it does make me uncomfortable.

I don’t want to be sexualized. Emily will make a great lover for someone, one day. It just won’t be me.

She snuggles into me and I wrap my arms around her, giving her a hug.

Even though she’s been trying to get with me since our first year of college, it doesn’t mean I can’t be her friend.

If I was normal, I’d probably be into her.

She’s gorgeous, with straight, silky blonde hair and warm chestnut brown eyes.

Honestly, she’d be the total package. If I wasn’t fundamentally broken.

I realized early in life I wasn’t like the other boys.

I never got sexually aroused by women or men.

I never thought about sex, people’s body parts, or anything that would lead me to feel something other than emotionally for people.

It wasn’t until college that I found the term asexual and figured out that was me.

The only thing that ever felt right to me was church.

I was raised in a Catholic orphanage from the age of six.

The priest and nuns who ran it were amazing.

I felt like I belonged. I remember watching the priest and seeing how his words and knowledge of the Bible put so many people at ease, like he was a voice of God, and I knew I wanted to help people while guiding them to God’s embrace.

I pull away from Emily, trying not to hurt her feelings.

She drank way too much tonight and it tends to make her overly emotional.

“You can always come visit me,” I offer, even though I know she probably never will.

“It’s not like I’m going far.” The seminary I was accepted to is only forty minutes from Boston.

She doesn’t acknowledge my offer.

Like I thought, I doubt she’ll visit.

Clearly ignoring me now, she flags down the waitress.

“A round of car bombs, please.” She does a finger whirl to show she means for everyone.

Our group cheers, while I inwardly cringe.

Yeah, I’ve been drinking cheap, warm, green-dyed beer all night, but I’d avoided the earlier shots.

While there's no rule against drinking with friends, it's simply not for me since I dislike how I feel the next day.

Emily turns to me and smiles. “You can’t turn down a free shot!”

I can, but tonight it’s not worth the energy to argue.

The shots arrive quickly, and we cheers before dropping the shot glass full of whiskey and cream into the Guiness and chugging. Ewww. How can people stomach so many of these? Once finished, everyone jumps right back into their conversations as if they never stopped.

Another beer is shoved into my hand. “Here,” Caleb says, “let’s finish these and then we can head home.”

Now he’s talking my language.

We chug our beers, and after I set down my glass, I tell him, “I gotta piss and then I’ll be ready to roll,” before leaving him with our friends. The bathroom has the longest line. I can probably walk home faster than it’d take to get through that.

Screw it.

I venture back to the group so we can leave. We meander outside and the majority depart in one direction while Caleb, his girlfriend Trish, and I head in the opposite. Everyone waves their farewells.

The walk isn’t too long—maybe fifteen minutes—and Trish’s place is on the way. Looking over at Caleb and Trish, all lovey together, I feel a slight pang of sadness knowing I’ll never have that with a person. But I can’t let it bring me down.

Trish says something to Caleb, but I can’t hear exactly what since she’s trying to whisper.

She stops walking, forcing us to stop as well.

“Baby, I don’t feel so good. Could you stay with me tonight?

” She presses her hips into him, his hands locking on to her hips, and looks up at him with doe-eyes.

I don’t even need to hear his response, I already know he’ll say yes.

They’ve been having sex since they got together last year. I actually prefer it when they stay at her place, then I don’t have to hear them grunting and moaning.

He nods and turns to me. Placing my hand up to stop him, I say, “Go dude, I’m a big boy and can escort myself home.”

Laughing, he slaps my back and turns toward her building. “See you tomorrow.”

The silence after Emily, Caleb and Trish, and the bar, is a welcome reprieve. I prefer the quiet. It gives my mind the chance to decompress.

Fuck, I have to piss so bad. I’m not gonna make it to my apartment. Stopping and looking in every direction, there’s nothing. Just lonely shadows dancing around the areas illuminated from the streetlights.

I duck into an alley. It’s dark—only the moon giving light to the little I can see. I’m convinced the farther I go, there’s less of a chance of someone seeing me.

There’s a dumpster that’s slightly angled out. Perfect. I wedge myself between the wall and the back of it, hiding myself. This will be over in less than sixty seconds.

Doing just one more quick scan to make sure the coast is clear, I quickly pull down my zipper and maneuver my dick out of my pants. Before I even start to piss, the moon reflects off something shiny, the instant flash causing me to freeze. What was that?

I try to focus on where I saw it, but my vision isn’t the greatest thanks to one too many beers—and maybe Emily for that shot.

The sound of movement farther down the alley forces me to hold my breath.

There’s definitely something there. Is it a cat scrounging for scraps?

A raccoon? My brain races with all the what ifs to justify the disturbance to the silence.

Slowly, my eyes adapt to the lack of light, my surroundings clearer. Whatever it is, it’s moving.

That’s when I see them. One person on top of another. Are they screwing? Did I just pick the most popular alley to relieve myself in?

The body on top raises—clearly a man from the build—and my gaze trails down to the other person. But it’s not a woman. It’s a very motionless man shrouded in even more darkness.

What the actual fuck?

I must have made a noise or something because the man standing suddenly turns his head in my direction. Shadowed by his hood and the night, with his attention focused on me, I see the source of the original flash. A knife, dripping blood. The moonlight must have reflected off the blade.

My brain, though sluggish, is screaming at me to run, to get away. But my body is a statue. I can’t move. I probably look like a deer caught in the headlights just before impact.

The person who I’m going to assume just murdered someone starts walking toward me. He doesn’t move quickly. He actually strolls, like he wasn’t just seen killing a person, spinning the knife around in his palm.

I, on the other hand, can’t move. Wide-eyed, frozen, I’m still holding my breath. My survival skills are to remain motionless. Like the killer is a T-rex and won’t see me if I don’t move. Maybe he didn’t see me. Maybe that’s why he’s walking so casually.

Don’t move you idiot! My brain screams at me. Clearly it doesn’t have proper survival skills either.

He walks past, not looking at or acknowledging me. My plan must work. I wait what feels like forever but could honestly be only a minute. Releasing the air that was trapped in my lungs, I exhale a loud whoosh.

“Did you enjoy the show?” a deep voice asks from behind me. The intense weight of him leaning into me is applied to my back, wedging me even closer to the dumpster and wall. The cool sensation of metal touches my throat.

Oh fuck, I’m about to be murdered. Just like that guy over there.

The desire to pray in this moment is all-consuming, but my brain has forgotten every prayer or logic it has.

The pressure of the knife intensifies, cutting off my air. “Turn around so I can see the life fade from your eyes.” He uses the blade like a lead to turn me, and my feet shuffle to keep up with the blade’s movement.

He steps back but doesn’t remove the knife.

Dressed in all black, he asks, “What have we here?” His head angles toward my crotch. Glancing down the best I can, I see I’m still holding my dick.

How humiliating. I’m going to die with my dick out and in hand. How did this happen? Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m in this situation because I had to piss.

Deciding this is awkward enough, I go to push my manhood back into my pants.

The knife moves deeper into my neck, the cold steel cutting off all my air. “Now why would you want to hide that? It’s quite entertaining having your cock out. Don’t move it,” he says smoothly, like this is normal.

“I-I promise I didn’t see-see anything,” I stammer out.

He laughs and the hood on his head shifts. I can see his eyes, and it’s like they’re glowing from the moonlight. Green, but not a bright hue. Deep like a wet forest leaf. He has a strong jaw, straight nose, and a fine dusting of stubble over his jaw. He looks older than me but not by much.