Seth by Nero Seal

Gustavo’s stomach flipped;his nerves sparked. Staring at the pictures taken in the night, he couldn’t help noticing the painful resemblance of Seth’s night guest to the previous victim—Justin. Delicate features, slender limbs and waist, light hair—Gustavo didn’t need to think twice to realize this was Seth’s next victim.

Though Diego couldn’t determine how Seth left his house, he managed to retrace the movements of his car back to the BDSM club NoLimits. A quick visit resulted in Diego obtaining the name of a twenty-three-year-old, Ignaz Vogl, and filled his hands with priceless footage of Seth’s sessions.

During the last two months, Seth showed up in the club three times, and he had never picked the same partner twice. The first footage didn’t bother Gustavo. The scene he witnessed wasn’t intimate but rather brutal. Seth’s eyes glowed with emotion; he looked disturbed and lost, and every flick of his whip left a bleeding stripe behind. Gustavo instantly understood that the tiny submissive Seth had chosen served as a mere outlet for his raging emotions.

The second footage surprised Gustavo with the date and choice of a man. It was the same day Gustavo had introduced himself, had gifted Seth the sand.

Gustavo tapped his lips with two fingers.

Is this how he takes off the edge? I vexed him, and he went to the club. Even this sub…Gustavo froze the footage on the powerful, dark-haired man with golden skin who hung on the Andrew’s cross. He doesn’t look like his usual choice. Would it be too arrogant to hope he thought of me?

The thought washed Gustavo in heat, but it gradually drained as the scene progressed. The tiny boy, entering the room, broke Seth’s concentration. Gustavo instantly hated the impact his presence had on Seth. They didn’t exchange a word, yet the flicks of Seth’s wrist became less precise, and his gaze, time after time, slipped sidewise. When their eyes locked on each other, Gustavo’s hands formed fists. When Seth terminated the session and led the shaking sub away, Gustavo leaned back in his chair. “Is there anything on this boy? I feel like they are not strangers.”

“Not much. Twenty-three. Gay. Left home after he graduated from school. Works part-time in a mall. Rents a room with another guy from his work. Two years ago, he was registered as a witness to a murder, but he refused to testify. His medical records suggest he leads a rather dangerous sex life. He lands in the ER every other month.”

Gustavo hummed and ran the last video file. He hated this session the most. Not even once had Seth’s focus strayed away from Ignaz. His eyes feasted on his every expression, every gasp. The care and attention he showed the boy annoyed Gustavo as he couldn’t understand what kind of relationship the pair shared.

Slamming the laptop closed, he checked his phone. It showed no updates. “What do you think they are doing?”

Diego’s cheek bulged; a white stick tucked in the corner of his mouth. With a lazy hand, he withdrew a lollipop and replied, “Don’t know. Fucking? Do you want me to go and ask Mayr directly?”

Gustavo snorted, shook his head, and dragged his unseeing gaze to the closed laptop. Itchy curiosity crawled under his skin. He wanted to know what happened behind those closed doors. How Seth treated the boy, how he looked at him.

“Just out of curiosity, what's the plan?” Diego pulled him out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“The kid. Are you going to let Mayr kill him?”

“No…” Gustavo raised a brow. “No, of course not.”

“Then when are you going to stop him? Not sure about you, but snuff¹ isn’t my thing. I don’t want to watch him kill another boy.”

“You won’t. He has a ritual, I believe. He killed on the construction site, on the sand bed. I think this was an essential part of it, or why would he bother? I don’t think he will kill the boy today. He needs certain conditions, and he needs a place. By the way, how did you track him back to the BDSM club? Road cameras?”

“Yes.”

“Request the footage for the last two weeks. I need to know how he exits his house. It’s a hill, so there’s no way the secret passage goes all the way to the foot. He exits somewhere and uses another car. Look for vehicles that don’t belong to the residents.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Diego complained.

“And I pay you for it.”

“Um, no. You pay me for running drug delivery and distribution, and I dare to say I’m handling it better than you are.” A cocky grin stretched Diego’s face as he put the candy back into his mouth.

Cheeky bastard…Gustavo snorted, then retorted, “It only means I made a wise decision when I hired your sorry ass. When I retire, you’ll be a decent replacement. And if you’re as good as you try to appear, this task won’t take you long. And if you don’t want to see another boy dead, you should hurry up.”

Diego’s hand lifted to his mouth. He pulled the sucker out and gave it a weird look as if it didn’t taste how he expected or had dirt on it. He worked his mouth as if wanting to spit, then tossed the lollipop into the ice bucket on the bar.

“And, Diego…”

“What?” Not a question, a growl of irritation left Diego’s mouth; he ran his hand over his goatee, smoothing it down.

“Next time Seth leaves his house, I’d like to wire it. Every room, every corner. Whatever happens inside of it, I want to see and hear it. Arrange it.”

* * *

Seth sat up,slapped his face with his gloved hands, pulled the blindfold off. He blinked at the blinding sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows, then at his watch.

Eleven?He couldn’t remember sleeping this long in months, it’d been deep too. He’d even missed a few alarms. He peeled off his gloves, slid to his feet, and strolled into the bathroom.

A quick shower refreshed him and cleared his mind. After pulling linen pants on, Seth ambled out of his quarters and into the corridor. Passing the spare bedroom, he pushed the door open. The window stood ajar, the bed made up, and even the cup of tea had disappeared from the nightstand. Nothing in the room remained of its night guest.

Did he leave? He pushed the door closed and limbered down the corridor, bare feet slapping against the stone. When his foot reached the last step of the staircase, he halted. A weird smell wafted through the air coming from the kitchen. Carefully, not to make noise, Seth slunk alongside the wall.

A small smile bloomed on his lips as he watched Ignaz fight both his straitjacket and the frying pan. His chest lightened, time slowed, and he leaned against the wall, opting to watch longer.

Minutes after, finally detecting Seth’s presence, Ignaz faced the entrance. A shy smile preceded a nod. His cautious gaze searched Seth’s face. “Sorry, I was hungry. I borrowed your kitchen, but I only found olives…”

Seth’s attention switched to the stove. Dipping a suspicious brow, he narrowed down the source of the smell. In the sizzling pan, a handful of green olives boasted brownish sides. Unable to hold back, Seth chuckled.

“I hate olives. I thought they might be better if fried?” Ignaz flushed. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You always look so serious and… kind of lonely.”

Seth cocked his head. The feeling is mutual.

Ignaz lifted his hand, and the belts dangled in front of his chest. Washed in the sun, dressed in white, he looked innocent. Seth wondered how such a person could become the most terrible pain addict.

Ignaz dropped his chin, obviously uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “It feels weird when you look at me like this.”

“Why?” Seth mouthed.

“Usually, I’m the one watching you. I thought you didn’t know I existed. I was always wondering why you never picked me, but I was too intimidated to ask. I always thought I’m your type, and that we are alike, or that’s what I heard. Why?”

Ignaz leveled Seth with a serious, questioning gaze that demanded an answer. Seth liked his honesty, his courage.

“I never realized you were looking. Until recently.”

Ignaz nodded, accepting the answer, then turned to the stove. He picked up a spatula and aimlessly rolled the darkening olives around.

To break the silence, Seth approached the tablet attached to the wall. He touched the screen and opened the food delivery app. “I don’t usually cook, so I don’t keep food here. Order whatever you like.”

“Order?” Ignaz gave a suspicious look to his cooking, then knitted his brows. “What about the olives?”

Seth smiled, genuine for the first time in months. “I’ll eat them.”

* * *

The day went by;not a single thought about Justin visited Seth’s mind. For the first time in months, he enjoyed food. It’d been a while since he managed to eat something other than olives or protein drinks, not to mention actually savoring textures and flavors. With Ignaz by his side, the routine process of forcing down food turned into pleasant entertainment as the boy ate with appreciation and enthusiasm. He cleaned his plates like fire consumed wood, awaking in Seth similar appetites.

The whole day Seth spent in his studio, drafting. The stolen painting migrated from his drafting board to the basement room where it was dark, dry, and cold. Ignaz quietly lounged on the wide windowsill as he went through the library. They barely talked, yet the quiet time filled Seth’s soul with serenity. When the boy agreed to change into clean clothes, possessive instincts stirred in Seth’s heart. A part of him felt as if Ignaz had always belonged to him, had always meant to be here with him. Seth couldn’t explain the origins of this haunting feeling. Ignaz wasn’t the one. Yet, by the end of the first day, Seth’s needs drifted to the back of his consciousness as Ignaz occupied his every thought. Being around him felt natural.

At dusk, Ignaz grew restless. His agitation resounded in Seth’s blood, more powerful with every passing minute. His stares chaffed Seth’s skin, but whenever he looked up, the boy averted his eyes.

Familiar irritation settled in Seth’s fingers and crawled up his arms. Once again, Ignaz avoided his gaze. His cheek jerked, he breathed the words out, “You should sleep.”

Blond head whipped toward him as Ignaz sized him up. “Don’t you want to…”

Seth tilted his head, wondering if Ignaz needed to take the edge off or, for some reason, he felt obligated to fulfill Seth’s desires. Under his scrutiny, Ignaz wrung his hands, looked around, then licked his lips.

Tonight, Seth didn’t have the urge. He wanted the evening to last forever in this slow pace. He wished to stay with Ignaz longer, listen to his quiet footfalls and rustles of his clothes. But it wasn’t about him anymore, so he said, “I’m good, but tell me what you want.”

A sigh of relief broke out of Ignaz’s chest. “Thank God. I’m so sore; I don’t think I would be able to do much anyway.” A blinding smile lit up his face when he asked, “Can we order a pizza and, maybe, watch something?”

Dropping a pencil, Seth pushed away from the drafting desk. “Sure.”

Seth didn’t remember much of the movie. He failed to get invested in it, but the glowing eyes, parted lips, and the fingers smeared in cheese fat and holding a piece of cold pizza forever etched in his memory. When Ignaz fell asleep on the sofa in the living room, Seth threw out the leftovers, turned the TV off, and carried the boy to the spare bedroom.

He stopped asking himself “why”. The reasons stopped mattering, as Ignaz’s presence pushed away memories of Justin.

That night he dreamed about the desert. It was calm, and even the high dunes that had always attempted to trip his hooves flattened. The desert lay still and silent as if frozen in anticipation. In his dream, he walked for hours, following one direction, and not even once did he glance back at SkyBlade fading behind his back.

When he woke up, he knew things were about to change.

* * *

The next morningwashed Seth in a sobering reality. Ignaz sat in the kitchen; his club clothes rested on the stool next to him. Upon noticing Seth, his face strained, and he managed a small smile.

“Leaving?” Seth’s voice almost got lost in the oppressive silence. Ignaz nodded, and just like that, the days filled with light submerged in darkness. Seth didn’t know what he expected, but the thought that Ignaz could leave never crossed his mind.

Why am I surprised? I’ve always known…

“I have to work. I need to drop by my apartment to change.” Seth lifted his chin for the first time realizing that he knew nothing about Ignaz. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Where do you live? I’ll drive you.”

* * *

“Seth left his house.The boy is with him; he’s well.” Diego’s voice, coming from the speakers, tore Gustavo away from Hans’ lips.

Hips ramming in the hot depth of Hans’ ass, he panted, “Make sure he stays away as long as possible and proceed with the plan. I’ll drop by as soon as I finish here.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Hans glared. He snatched the phone away from Gustavo’s hand and tossed the device on the pillow, farther away from their reach.

Gustavo chuckled, amused. “Look who is being all cute and possessive?”

“Who is being possessive here? You wish.” Hans tried to push Gustavo away with both hands, failed.

Catching a wrist, Gustavo brought it to his lips, kissed the back of Hans’ hand. His hips backed away, cockhead nearly slipping out of Hans’ hole before he thrust forward. “You always know how to turn me on.”

Hans hissed. His eyelids dropped, head rolled back, and resistance ebbed. Hedonist to the bone, Hans was falling apart in the euphoria of his upcoming orgasm.

“You are so lewd.” Gustavo’s mouth covered his lips again, tongue tracing the slack, parted lips. His hips picked up speed, hand slipped between their bodies, squeezed Hans’ cock. Hot and wet, it pulsed, ready to spill any moment. With a thumb, Gustavo collected precum and rubbed it against the slit, then over the frenulum.

Hans’ body convulsed. He moaned into Gustavo’s mouth and pushed his tongue forward, demanding additional stimulation. Gustavo smiled as he sucked on it, savoring the sweet, minty taste of Hans’ toothpaste.

“So gorgeous,” Gustavo muttered between kisses. His movements became harder and rougher. Every slam of his hips against Hans’ buttocks made his balls ring with the impact. “Come on, moan for me.”

“You aren’t too bad yourself, but do you really want me to moan now?” Diego’s voice reached him from the speakers.

Hans’ eyes blazed with hellish flames and shame.

Gustavo growled, “Diego, have some fucking decency, hang up!”

“Pull the fuck out! I’m so done with you!” Hans yelled and punched Gustavo in the chest. “Get off me!”

Gustavo laughed, struggling to keep on top of the wriggling body. Seizing Hans’ wrists, he drove the blond into the bed, stomach rubbing against cock with every friction of his hips. The mattress dipped under their weight, swallowing Hans’ arms. “Who is going to let you go?”

“Argh. I’m so sick of you-m-m-m…” Gustavo closed Hans’ mouth with a kiss, and the resistance subdued.

“Ermm… This is awkward, but since I’m still here. Do you need marriage therapy? I have a diploma in psychology, and I don’t charge much.” Diego butted in.

“Hang fucking up!” Gustavo and Hans yelled at the same time.

When silence fell, Hans wriggled, trying to get away from the hold. “It’s not funny.”

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m still hard.” Gustavo scowled, his fingers releasing the bruising wrists.

“But I’m not.”

“Then you better get hard again, pretty boy. I’m not letting you go until we are done, unless you got tired of your position by my side. You have been walking out on me way too often recently. It’s becoming a bad habit. Shall I find myself someone more compliant?” Gustavo’s voice dropped.

Hans swallowed, chin moving from shoulder to shoulder. “N-no…”

* * *

Gustavo’s pulse quickenedas he stepped into the chilly air of Seth’s villa. His cheeks burned from standing under the sun for too long, and now he felt feverish.

He didn’t know what he expected when he broke into Seth’s home, but not the heavy combination of rock and glass. Looking from the outside, no one would suspect that the modern villa made of glass would hide a rocky interior that resembled a volcanic cave made of stone, glass, and mirrors. Thirty feet tall and covering an area of three hundred square feet, the hall had an inner glass balcony on one side, right below the ceiling. Gustavo couldn’t see any lamps, but the large windows, taking up the front side of the room, provided enough daylight to illuminate the space. The colorful LED lights implanted into the floor washed the walls in red.

Diego whistled; his head bobbed from side to side as he explored the volcanic stone covering the walls.

From this side, the glass doors behind Gustavo’s back resembled a portal to another world.

“Soft,” Diego stated, fingers tracing the stone-like structure. “What is it, his personal nuthouse?”

Gustavo pressed his palm to the wall. The warm surface bounced under his touch. He looked closer at the carved acoustic foam finished with textured paint of different shades to imitated natural rock. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Diego shook his head as he kept sliding his hand over the wall, ambling through the space. A few mirrored doors led away from the hall; opposite the windows, a black staircase curled upstairs.

Gustavo approached the staircase and looked up. “Where do you want to start?”

“Basement.”

“Basement it is.” Gustavo grinned.

Long tubes hatched the ceiling.Black cords stretched down from hoists, iron hooks ominously glinting at the ends. Platforms and workbenches lined the walls but left breathing space in the middle. Above the clearing, the ceiling had a rectangular patch of a different material. A massive telescopic tube connecting it to the floor suggested an elevator platform. Large air vents took the corners of the ceiling, and one more hovered above a massive furnace.

The basement looked like a screenshot from a steampunk movie. Gustavo recognized the glass melting studio and what looked like a kiln. Glass pieces, burnt cloths, and all kinds of clamps and tongs littered workbenches. Blowpipes occupied a vertical stand, different instruments laid nearby, and a few empty cans littered the floor. Gustavo picked a can and twirled it in his hands.

“Olives…” he kicked the second can, then the third one. All cans were of one brand and used to contain the same thing—green olives.

“Do you also feel disappointed?” Diego asked as he ran his finger over a workbench.

“That he loves olives?”

Diego chuckled, shook his head. “No, that there’re no bodies, no skeletons, no severed heads on the walls, not even decaying animals. It looks like a usual torture room.”

“Wait for his bedroom; maybe he keeps them there.” Gustavo picked up a piece of glass, stared at the pretty pattern. The marble-like structure had silverish flakes embedded in it. In a way, it looked like a swirling galaxy was embedded in the glass. The longer he stared, the brighter the illusion of the swirling particles became. He set the piece down and lifted a long segment of glass barbed wire. Detailed and sharp, it carried the same particles throughout the length.

Carefully, he returned the wire to the same place and turned his attention to the massive pieces of red glass scattered around. The smallest one was of a size of a football; the biggest could contain Gustavo’s torso. “I can’t believe he made this all by himself. He is talented, isn’t he?”

“No shit…” Diego replied as he fetched an iron rod from the stand, twirled it around. “What is it called?”

The rod swished past the workbench missing a glass piece by a miracle. Gustavo’s nerves tightened. “A blowpipe. It’s used to hold or shape molten glass. Put it down.”

With his interest in the object diminishing, Diego returned the rod to its place and plucked up a tiny piece of glass. “It does look pretty. Erotic almost…”

Gustavo ignored the deeper notes in Diego’s voice. He observed the basement for a moment longer before turning to the staircase. “Let’s get out of here. I want to see his bedroom.”

Located on the second floor, at the farthest end of the long corridor decorated with artificial stone, the living quarters had a cozier feel. It took Gustavo three attempts to find the door to Seth’s bedroom.

Black, burned wood coated the walls and ceiling. Tiles of different sizes and depths created a stunning 3D effect. Among the wood, red and golden glass embellishments sparkled catching the sun. The window overlooking the vast cityscape beneath the immense blue sky had no dressings at all, wild grape rimming it from the outside. A plain black carpet lay before the wide wooden bed. A massive glass work hanging below the ceiling hoisted Gustavo’s focus up. A spiked sphere with shards of glass flying away was an explosion of red. In the glass, he could see the outlines of the LED light.

“Is it a chandelier?” Gustavo wondered if the spikes would stab through a person if the construction fell. Subconsciously, he avoided standing beneath it.

Apart from the decoration, Seth’s bedroom didn’t have anything unusual in it. Gustavo rummaged through the wardrobes but only found clothes with attached dry-cleaning tags. No sex toys, no porn, not even condoms. It was almost ascetical.

Unlike the bedroom, Seth’s studio resembled the office of a mad scientist. A rich library boasted a collection of historical, philosophical, artistic, and spiritual books of different cultures. A set of prisms hung above what looked like a large modelling desk coated with green cloth with a cross-section pattern. Supported by tiny metal wires and glass holders, it caught and dispersed light. Fragments of glass lay here and there, mixed with rocks and crystals.

Several folders, stacked in a black, wooden rack bristled with falling-out sketches. Some of them made sense, showing detailed designs of buildings, decorative elements, and glass sculptures, others revealed fragments of exotic fantasies.

Gustavo’s possessive instincts stirred. He craved to acquire this collection, to explore each sketch with the utmost attention and decode the small, hurried, nearly unreadable notes on the sides. His instincts suggested that the key to Seth’s mind was encrypted within these pages.

Desert landscapes, strange animals, antique sculptures, hieroglyphics, insects, ancient jewelry Gustavo had only seen in the Egyptian sections of museums—every sketch carried vivid details. But the intricate drawings of the ancient god, Set, intrigued Gustavo the most.

“Hey, look what I found.” Diego’s voice startled him. Gustavo had almost forgotten he wasn’t alone.

Standing in front of the mirror, Diego held a piece of wrapped plastic in his hand. Having a handle on the inner side, it reminded Gustavo of the bulletproof shields Special Forces used to subdue aggressive crowds, except this one was blurry.

“Check this out,” Diego’s voice rang with childish excitement as he covered himself with the shield. Gustavo’s jaw dropped as Diego’s body melted from view.

“My fucking god,” Gustavo stashed the folder back into the rack and strode to his friend. “That’s how he did it, huh?”

“I’ve heard about them,” Diego handed the shield to Gustavo. “The technology is called Quantum Stealth. It was developed by a Canadian camouflage design company, but I’ve never heard that they sell to private individuals.”

Gustavo ran his finger over the rough rims of the shield and the tiny air bubbles trapped beneath the top layer. “This doesn’t look like industrial production. How much time do we have?”

“Maybe a few hours?” Diego shrugged.

“I want everything here photocopied.” Gustavo pointed to the rack. “Let’s go and check the rest of the house.”

“Sure.” Diego pulled a phone and dialed a number. “Send a photographer upstairs.”

* * *

To Ignaz’s homeand later to his work, they drove in silence. Only when the boy thanked him for the lift and attempted to exit the vehicle, Seth seized Ignaz’s wrist. He instantly released it, realizing he broke one of the stupid rules, but the boy was already staring at the skin Seth had touched.

“I’d like to see you again,” Seth said instead of an apology. When the boy didn’t answer, Seth leveled him with a direct look. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all.” Ignaz dropped his chin hiding a gentle smile.

A strong desire to reach forward and entwine his fingers with the soft locks of his honey-blond hair stirred in Seth’s chest. To keep his hands in place, he gripped the steering wheel, waiting.

“Then…” Ignaz lifted his face; a feverish glint returned into his eyes. “Would you like to meet tonight? I finish at ten.”

Seth wasn’t sure what the glint promised, but an excitement settled in his bones. He swallowed, nodded. “I’ll pick you up.”

Ignaz smiled and exited the car.

Seth waited for the slender form of the boy to disappear behind the swinging doors of the mall, then started the car.

* * *

“Did they wire every room?”Gustavo queried. Sitting in the car in front of Seth’s villa, he thought about the second basement room beneath the living quarters. The concrete, rectangular room possessed unique acoustic qualities, reminding Gustavo of antique Greek amphitheaters where the sound got carried around, amplified on the way. He wasn’t sure what caused this effect, an inch-deep grooves in the tapered walls, or the concrete finish that reflected his footfalls even if he tried to move silently. The same grooves in the floor were filled with something white, solid. The door, locating in the middle of the wall, split the room into two even halves. At the end of one wing, a St. Andrew’s cross glinted with shackles. Opposite to it, a wooden pillory occupied the other wing. Between them, a few chairs and spanking horses mixed with workbenches and racks. The smell of leather and antiseptic reminded Gustavo of his last visit to the BDSM club. The number of paddles and whips empowered the resemblance. Sex dungeon or torture room, whatever it was, Gustavo couldn’t thrust it out of his mind.

“Of course not. Don’t expect miracles. The building is too big, and we didn’t have much time. Only a few rooms. The ones that looked most used and only from a few angles.”

Gustavo nodded, zooming out on the garden. Overgrown and thick, it carried wild charm and didn’t look untidy, more like it descended from a fantasy movie.

A red glint caught Gustavo’s eye and forced his attention from the mirrored glass of Seth’s villa to Diego lounging on the driver’s seat. With a casual flick of a wrist, Diego threw something in the air then intercepted the object with quick fingers.

Narrowing his eyes, Gustavo watched Diego repeat his ministration. The smooth glass sparkled in the setting sun as it flipped in the air and landed into the palm.

“What’s this?” Gustavo asked.

“Umm… A souvenir.” Diego’s tawny eyes disappeared into a grin. He held up a piece of red glass between his thumb and index finger. Smooth and polished, it absorbed the evening sun and glowed from within with a warm, steady light.

“A degenerate gambler and now a thief, you are progressing, Diego.”

Diego’s elbow connecting with his ribs pushed a loud snort out of his lungs. “Fuck off. It just lay there, begged to be taken. I don’t think he’ll ever notice it’s gone.”

“What do you need it for?”

“When Mayr is exposed and arrested, I’ll sell it to my close friend, a collector of rare artifacts, as a last piece of glass left behind by his beloved psychopathic serial killer, Loco. He’ll pay me millions.”

“Diego, I don’t get it. Do you gamble away all your money? Where did this maniacal wish to rip me off came from? Should I give you a raise?”

“I don’t need a raise. Who wants an honest payment when I can rip you off?”

“You are a terrible friend. I shall find myself another one.” Gustavo couldn’t help laughing. He turned to the impenetrable glass of Seth’s villa, then said, “Drive, you leech.”