5. Karma #2
Finally, I reach the street opposite their building. The front door is made out of glass, so I can see that it’s empty inside. There are metal doors and little chairs in the corner; is that supposed to be a living room? I thought Arlo would have more decoration. Maybe Micha controls the house.
Thanks to the empty street, my eyes are pulled away from the entrance door to spot someone walking down the pavement. It’s Micha, wearing the same jacket as earlier with his hands in his pockets. He’s looking around nervously. Is that because of me? Did I scare him?
I hope so.
He must be coming back from guarding the dead. Most humans seem to have their jobs in the daytime; I like that his is at nighttime. It makes it easier for me to follow him.
Micha does one last check of the path, looking left and right before tapping something into a little machine, pulling back the glass door, and slipping inside.
Only then do I cross the road. He presses a button beside the metal doors and waits for them to pull open.
Once he steps inside, they close behind him, and I attempt to pull open the glass door. It doesn’t budge.
The little machine with numbers and buttons makes no sense to me, and a low growl leaves my throat at the thought of being defeated.
That is, until a light flicks on above me.
Six windows up, a square in the wall that was dark moments ago now shines bright, and I know deep down that it’s because of Micha. He’s in there.
This isn’t a living room I’m trying to get inside; it’s more like an entryway.
My fingers are strong and easily hold me up as I hop on top of a wide bin and reach up for the first window ledge.
Everyone has their curtains shut, so it’s easy to sneak up the side of the building, jumping from windows to pipes as the bells in my hair jingle loudly.
I grip onto the ledge beneath Micha’s window.
Careful not to be seen, I peek inside, finding Micha’s back. He’s taken off his jacket, and he’s pulling a steamy pot out of some small rectangular device. My heightened hearing allows me to make out any sound from inside the room—it seems like it’s just him.
His eyes are glued to his phone as he takes a large cup, flicks off the light, and walks through another door, kicking it shut behind him, too entranced to see my glowing eyes peeking inside.
Humans have no survival skills.
The window moves easily when I slip my fingers beneath and push—I guess humans this far up don’t think it’s a risk to leave their homes unlocked—and my flexibility means I can easily flip my legs over and jump into the room. I wait to see if I’ve been heard, but no sign that I have follows.
I’m inside.
This is what I expected a living room to look like. I’ve never been inside someone’s home before.
There’s a long black couch and a television. A table with chairs and a little kitchen space. A coat hook and multiple doors. It’s normal, I guess.
Snake climbs out of my hair and down my body to scurry across the floor, heading to the kitchen space.
I know for a fact Arlo lives here too. I can smell him.
Driven by my need, I follow that smell, stalking on my hands and feet until the scent takes me to one of the doors.
I press my cheek against the wood, my tongue poking out to lick it.
He’s right there. I can hear his heartbeat. It’s slow and steady.
Asleep.
The handle clicks when I twist it, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room, and I keep an eye on the door Micha went through in case he heard the noise. The room is pitch black, a green glow omitting from my eyes as I scan the area. It’s a bedroom. Arlo’s bedroom.
There’s so much stuff in here. Shelves covered with little figurines, a desk with mechanical devices, clothes hanging over a chair. Everywhere I look, there’s something to find. And when I look at the bed, I find Arlo with the quilt around his waist and his mouth parted as he sleeps soundly.
He doesn’t wear a shirt. I can see the ridges in his stomach and the light blonde hairs around his chest. There’s black ink coating nearly every inch of his skin, creeping up his neck. And his nipples…
Silver.
My bones nearly snap with how hard I tense, trying to stop myself from lunging at his body. He has jewellery through his nipples and belly button, like me, and my veins vibrate with the need to eat him alive.
The silence in the room is interrupted by the periodic exhale of his breath, my feet not making any noise as I pad across the wooden floor. Vibrations run down my arms to the tips of my fingers, the electric spark powering my body glistening beneath my long pink and green fingernails.
When I’m standing at his side, I crouch down, moving my face closer to his, so close our noses nearly touch.
His curls hang over his forehead, the soft texture begging to be pulled.
There’s a peacefulness to him that I never get to see.
My victims run and scream, but I like watching his sleeping form, the helplessness, the unawareness.
What would he do if he opened his eyes and saw mine peering back?
The sound of his heart pounds in my ears, and I can see the faint movement of his pulse in his neck, beating invitingly. Nails dig into the sheets as I squeeze to stop myself from touching, but his flesh looks so smooth.
That heady feeling returns, assaulting me. I can’t smell it like I did before. This is happening to me all on its own. Like my pussy is aching for something to fill it. I’ve never had that urge before.
I’ve seen plenty of cocks. I’ve killed enough men and explored their dead bodies to familiarise myself, but nothing has incited a feeling to have sex. Until Arlo and Micha. Until I sensed that arousal between them in the alleyway.
Are they in a ‘relationship’? Humans have a lot of them. The other performers like to have big sex parties with each other after shows—obviously I’ve never been invited nor felt the desire to join—so it seems to be pretty important to humans.
‘Like you want to suck my big cock into that little mouth.’ He’d uttered those words for Arlo’s ears, but they fell on mine, enticing me all the more. To have a cock inside of my mouth and not eat it—that would be a new experience. To bring out pleasure instead of pain. Do I want that?
I turn my head to examine the rest of his body beneath the bedsheet.
It’s hard to hold back from moving the cover and seeing if he’s naked underneath.
Drool leaks down my chin when my forked tongue pokes out, the thought of sinking my teeth into his thigh making me twitchy.
The tips of my fingers inch beneath the quilt.
I rest here, waiting to see if he wakes, but he doesn’t stir.
I press forward another inch, hoping to touch his flesh, and I find purchase.
He’s not wearing any clothes.
I’m entranced as I gently tug down the sheet. I see the dip of his V-line, the shaved hair, and finally, the top of his cock.
Arlo shifts, and I freeze. He mutters something unintelligible and turns to face the other way.
The distraction is enough; it’s too late when I hear a footstep outside of the door accompanied by a second heartbeat.
The door swings open. The light’s switched on. I’m momentarily blinded as I stumble back and fall onto the bed, onto Arlo.
“What the fuck?” Micha shouts as Arlo jerks awake. He stares down at me with sleepy confusion, but I’m already scrambling away, putting space between myself and him. There’s only a window in here. No other way to escape other than the door.
Two fast heartbeats fill my senses, making my eyes shake with desperation to attack.
“W-what?” Arlo moans, but I take steady steps backwards, my eyes darting between the two. Their eyes are wide, confused, and Micha’s shirtless torso is another momentary direction. How are these boys ruining me like this?
Before I can lunge forward and sink my teeth into his huge bicep, I lug the window up.
Arlo shouts, “Wait, don’t jump!” But I’m already dropping to the next ledge, desperate to get away, to get their eyes off me.
I retreat to the shadows as a frantic naked Arlo sticks his head out of the window, but he can’t see me from my hiding place beside the wall. He whips his head back and forth, his curls blowing in the night breeze, but I can’t make out his expression. I can’t hear his heart from here, either.
When he retreats into the bedroom and shuts the window, I use the shadows to make my way back to the circus, running as fast as I physically can.
That was a mistake. I made a mistake.
They saw me, and I didn’t kill them.