Seth by Nero Seal

The need to see Justinbrought Seth in the basement. He opened the refrigerator room and stepped in. His breath misted in the air, and his gaze automatically fixed on the thermometer. It showed +5°C¹. He snatched surgical gloves from a shelf of the metal rack, slipped them on, then carefully drained the acetone-based solution from the jar into the metal sink.

Setting the jar on the small metal table that looked like it would fit in an operating theater, he took the heart in his hands. His fingers caressed the gentle tissue. It’d been a while since he held the heart. As always, it felt intimate and painful, as if he was reliving all the hopes and disappointments again, at once.

“It’s okay,” He wasn’t sure if he tried to comfort Justin or himself, but he added, “Not long left to wait. There will be no more pain, I promise.”

He placed the heart in a large glass beaker, then filled it with plastic solvent. Holding the beaker with both hands, he lowered it into an aluminum vacuum chamber that stood on the floor under the metal table. He put the vacuum chamber into the special freezer and connected the cords. A low hum filled the room.

Under absolute pressure, in cold temperature, the acetone in the heart would boil and evaporate, and silicone would be forcefully impregnated into every cell of Justin’s heart. Organs, plastinated this way, would forever retain their shape. No decay or smell would ever spoil them. A heart preserved this way could remain in a glass chamber for eternity.

He wiped every surface he used with oxygen detergent solution then stepped out of the refrigerator room. The door closed with a soft exhale. Seth’s gaze slid over the basement. Contrasting with the almost sterile feel of the hidden room, the basement drowned in chaos. Pieces of glass towered on every working bench; empty olive cans scattered across the floor.

I should clean up, and I need to finish SkyBlade.

* * *

The doorbell threwSeth out of the trance of creation. He glanced at the heat detector on the wall, then at his watch before he shoved a chunk of molten glass back in the furnace and hurried upstairs. Not bothering to cover his naked torso, Seth yanked the door open.

The breeze caressed his cheeks and licked his chest the same way Gustavo’s dark gaze groped his body. Obscenely, evaluatively, yet somehow casually, just like people look at meat at the market. Seth hated this look. It made him feel even more naked and, at the same time, somehow degraded.

“I see you are healing fine. The swelling passed.” Gustavo’s pupils dilated as he examined Seth’s chest and stomach. He swallowed, and his tanned skin picked up a darker hue. “I wish I could recover as speedily. My thigh is still bothering me. I guess I’m getting old.”

A low hissing left Seth’s mouth as he stared at the still visible cut on the bridge of Gustavo’s nose.

“Easy-easy, I’m not here to fight. I’m here to congratulate you. It’s a splendid young man you brought here the other day. So fit, so full of life, so cute. You see, there’s only one problem now. Justin misses you. He turned blue after hearing you forgot him so quickly. His body has barely cooled, and you have already found yourself another toy. Kinda heartless. Justin gave you his heart, and you broke it. What do we do about that?”

Seth tried to ignore Gustavo’s usual mocking and spiteful intonation. Today, it was even harder as the man didn’t smile, and his eyes glowed with dark, raw emotion. Seth didn’t care what caused the change, but his skin crawled under this raping gaze.

Ghostly clumps of irritation seized Seth’s heart. The air around him compressed, and his head buzzed with increased blood circulation. He glided through the summer dust swirling in the air. He stared at Gustavo’s throat and the black tie swathed around it. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself grabbing the black silk, looping it around his fist, using it as a leash to control the distance. Seth hadn’t been trained to be a fighter, but he was taught how to fight. Right now, he wondered how good his skills were and if it was hard to kill a man with bare hands.

Gustavo swallowed. Under the white shirt, his chest rose and fell in hastened breath. He retreated a step. “No matter how much I’d love to get into an intimate brawl with you, I’m here on Justin’s behalf. You see, he became gloomy and miserable; some might say he withered before my eyes. I had no other choice as to bring him here.”

Seth halted; his heart dropped in the pit of his stomach. He is lying. It’s another trick.

“With your permission.” Gustavo plastered a smile on his lips, but it never reached his eyes. Without any fear, he went to the black Jeep parked on the driveway; tinted windows reflected his broad shoulders and rough chin. Down the road, Seth spotted two more Jeeps with the same dark windows. Gustavo opened the rear door and delicately, as if carrying a precious porcelain vase, lifted a large, white wrap. When Gustavo turned around, Seth couldn’t help staring at the contours of the body coated in a silk sheet.

A tiny muscle at the back of Seth’s knee twitched when Gustavo cut the distance between them and stretched out his arms to pass over his burden. “See, I always deliver my promises. I’m giving him back. Come on, take him.” When Seth wavered, he added, “What, you don’t want him anymore? You have a new toy and already lost your interest in him? In that case, I think I’ll keep him. I have to admit; I’ve grown attached to his silent presence.”

Like a puppet on a string, without any choice, Seth snatched the rigid form away from the filthy grip of the man.

From the mere touch of the dead flesh, blood slammed in the center of his chest; Seth’s feelings returned. He remembered every little lie Justin told him, every trick the boy pulled, but also, every smile, kiss, and whisper in the night. Seth’s throat closed up. Turning his back on Gustavo, he walked into his villa.

“Not even a thank you? You really have no manners.” The door closed behind Seth’s back, shutting off Gustavo’s voice and the too-bright sun.

Seth’s knees shook. He managed a few more steps before the energy left his body, and he sank to the floor. His fingers peeled the silk from the dead face. The air knotted in his lungs as he stared at the pallid face forever frozen in a mask of dispassion.

He sat still for what felt like hours, looking at the face he once loved. He lifted his hand to brush an eyelash from under Justin’s eye when the fabric slipped off his shoulders and revealed his bare torso.

How dare he…A sour taste filled Seth’s mouth. Having a mind of its own, his hand reached to the stump where Justin’s arm once was, glided over the edge of the cut, then jumped toward the black stitches in the middle of his chest. Wherever he looked, the body carried signs of violation, of autopsy.

“It’s okay, my love. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. There will be no more pain,” he breathed the words out. His hand covered Justin’s as he wanted to lift it to his lips, but the dead body didn’t budge, frozen solid. Rage shot through Seth’s heart. This should have never happened. No one was supposed to touch Justin, to maim his perfect body. He rubbed the rigid fingers to seek comfort in the touch or try to comfort Justin; he wasn’t sure. “You shouldn’t worry. No matter what the dreams say, I’ll finish SkyBlade. Bear a little longer.”

The back of his fingers glided alongside the dead arm, caressed the tattoo inked on the inner side of Justin’s writs. He’d always hated this tattoo as it stated the ownership of someone else.

“It doesn’t matter now. Everything is over.” Seth lifted his unseeing eyes to the wall before him. “It’s not your fault that your heart rotted with betrayal. It’s just another genetic mutation, just like mine. That’s why we met, so I could fix it and make you whole. So I could give you a better heart, a stronger heart, so you can find happiness in your next life.”

Seth kept rubbing the dead flesh with his hand, but his vision swam, defocused. He stopped talking.

* * *

“What did he say? Volume up.”Gustavo’s palm banged against the dashboard. He looked at his throbbing fingers, remembering the light brush of Seth’s hand against his own as he accepted the body.

“It’s at maximum,” Diego turned the laptop to him to show the volume bar. On the screen, Seth knelt in the middle of the cave-like hall, clutching the dead body in his arms.

“Shit. It’s useless if I can’t hear him.” Taking the laptop away from Diego, Gustavo watched Seth caress the dead hand. His lips kept moving, but he couldn’t hear a word. “Keep watching that tunnel. One way or another, he needs to get rid of the body. If Ignaz comes again, there’s no way he can do it at home.”

* * *

Seth sat on the floorlate into night, holding Justin. As dark clouds swallowed the sickle of the moon, he dressed, picked up the body and brought it to the underground garage. The feeling of loss aggravating, he put the silk wrap on the rear seat of the car and reluctantly released his grip. His fingers and his chest felt oddly stiff as if infected with Justin’s rigidity.

Justin must be mad at me... He remembered SkyBlade and the dark sand falling from the tip. I’m going to fix this, I promise. Soon, there will be no pain.

With numb fingers, he opened the driver’s door when his eye caught something white standing out against the gray concrete. He squatted to pluck a paper from under the rear tire and flipped it around. His heart stuttered. The boy in the monochrome photo looked older than his age. Intelligent and sharp, he emitted confidence and an invisible air of mockery, as if nothing in the world could hurt him, and there was nothing he couldn’t overcome. His dark, penetrative eyes stared at Seth as if they could read his every little secret, just like years ago.

Long ago, in another life, this immense confidence and vitality had attracted Seth; now, he only felt disdain. Still, for some reason, he couldn’t toss the photograph into the trash. Instead, he hopped in the car and slipped it under the sun visor.

He snuck out of his villa through the underground passage. His home furnace was small, and the mere thought of chopping Justin to pieces sickened him.

With his knuckles white around the steering wheel, Seth drove through the night to the Leising district. The cityscape blurred before his eyes, folding into a colorful kaleidoscope of lights as the wipers kept chasing the torrents of water off the windshield, distorting his view.

The weather had turned nasty, reflecting his mood. Lightning strikes pierced the sky every few seconds. The air trembled with invisible electricity, the same electricity that sparked in his veins. Behind him, lightning and streetlights dappled the pristine silk.

Thoughts swarmed in his head. He wasn’t sure of Gustavo’s agenda, but during their short but informative acquaintance, Seth had learned that the man never did anything without a reason.

Why did he give Justin back? Why now? I feel like I missed something. What? Did I make a mistake by letting him live? By finding no threat in him I carelessly ignored his stupid curiosity. Now I reap what I’ve sown.

His car skidded over the wet road as he entered the turn without dropping speed. The apartment houses gave way to industrial buildings as the highway became desolated.

Even from a mile away, he spotted the silhouettes of smokestacks and a tall silo towering above the Mayr Flachglas Manufactory. Lightning strike, hitting the ground, illuminated the factory from behind, aggravating the feeling of doom.

No car, no person, crossed his way as he pulled over before the gates. He signaled twice, and the gates flipped open, pushing currents of muddy water out of the puddle before them.

The car rolled into the yard. The night security guard waddled through the downpour, jacket pulled over his head and shielding his eyes with his hand from the water. Seth lowered the window.

“Anyone else in the building?” The rain drowned his quiet voice.

The middle-aged guard nodded. “Watchmen.”

“Make them leave. Turn off the cameras, and go home. You all are free for tonight.” Seth wasn’t sure his voice was strong enough to be heard through the raging weather, but the guard nodded, most likely realizing the content of the request or reading his lips. It wasn’t anything new. Once in a while, Seth demanded everyone left and monopolized the factory. The staff never argued, knowing well enough that there was no reasoning with the eccentric owner.

Seth stepped out of the car into the storm. The water hit his face. The guard disappeared into the security office then reappeared with a wide, black umbrella. He staggered closer, offered the umbrella to Seth.

Seth shook his head, glanced at his watch. Getting the hint, the guard jogged toward the entrance of the factory and bustled through the tall, tin door. Needles of water massaged Seth’s face as he lifted his eyes. It felt like nature spilled his emotions for him—all the rage, grief, and despair that bubbled in his throat without finding the way out.

Only minutes later, when several workers exited the factory and carried on toward the gates, Seth pushed out a strained breath.

The gates closed with a clang, and all sounds disappeared except for the loud SHHHHHHH.

Shirt weighting his shoulders, Seth remained still for another moment then entered the security office to recheck that every camera was switched off. He returned to the car, carefully pulled Justin out. A bitter wind slapped across his face as the first bullets of hail bombarded his head. Hugging Justin closer, Seth darted toward the entrance.

The change of humidity made him hold his breath. Outside, the air was drenched in electricity and freshness; inside, the dryness clung to his skin like melted plastic. The scent of burnt chemicals and fire permeated the air.

He listened for the low hum of the sleeping machines then ghosted through the industrial building toward the floating glass section. Some of the machines stood turned off, but the large furnaces, filled with tons of molten glass, never slept. Requiring a long time to heat up, they were set on the lowest temperature that would keep the glass liquid.

The air became drier as he stalked alongside the glass stretchers and annealing lehr² toward the float bath and furnaces. The dim light flickered as another lightning bolt hit the building. His clothes stuck to his skin and hindered his movements. The white silk around Justin soaked through and became translucent.

He slowed before the tall raw material charger. His knees bumped against the solid concrete as he sagged to the floor, keeping the dead boy on his lap. He peeled the wet fabric off the bluish face, caressed a sharp cheekbone with the back of his index finger. “Even death couldn’t spoil your beauty. You are still perfect.”

He pulled the silk lower and wrapped his fingers around Justin’s hand. His thumb brushed over the bluish petals of the elongated nails. Succumbing to an urge, he lifted the dead hand to his lips and kissed the back. “I would have burned the world for you if only you stayed with me. I wish you had never betrayed me. I wish you were the one.”

Strands of Justin’s hair splayed over the gray floor, dust sticking to them. Seth released the dead hand and reached for the lock to tuck it behind Justin’s ear. The touch felt familiar and intimate. It reminded him of the happy times they had spent together. Driven by nostalgia, he bent and pressed his lips to the tightly squeezed mouth.

The kiss was tasteless and dry, nothing like he remembered. His throat tightened with emotion; he got to his feet and approached the engineering station. Next to the door, he found a clipboard with an order form attached to it. Without reading, he crumpled the top sheet and shoved it back into the holder then grabbed a pen. The numbers popped up in his head as he reassigned the next lot of neodymium glass to SkyBlade.

He returned to the body, scooped it into his arms, and carried it to the metal ladder of the raw material charger. Climbing and carrying a human weight over his shoulder simultaneously proved to be harder than he expected. When he reached the vast platform on top, he clasped the rigid body to himself and rested his back against the railings. A slight tremble settled into his limbs, making him wonder if he was tired, cold, or both.

After many deep breaths, unwilling to part with the shell of the man he once loved, he stepped forward. Behind the thick glass, the flame blazed. The glowing mass of molten glass lazily swirled. It wasn’t white like a noonday sun, but reddish, like an early sunrise. The sunrise that promised a new day, new hope, new life, and a better future. Exactly what he wanted for Justin.

Seth flipped open the shutter covering the hopper, and the air punched him in the face. The roar filled his ears as he lowered the body over the rim and released his grip. The silk fabric caught fire before reaching the glowing surface. Sparks whirled up, dancing in the heated air, before speckling the surface of the red magma with gray ash. The pale skin sizzled, bubbled, and the body sank in the boiling glass.

“So, this is how you dispose of the bodies. Won’t it ruin the glass, just like those flakes in your sculptures?” Gustavo’s low baritone brushed against his earlobe as the faint scent of spice, wood, and heady sweetness mixed with the smell of gas, fire, and burnt flesh.

Seth swiveled. Silence overtook the factory; only the heavy pattering of the rain, hail, and his torn breathing disturbed it.

Seth’s gaze flicked from one corner of the floating-glass wing to another, but he saw no sign of bodyguards. He smirked, shook his head. Some people are eager to die. And here I was giving you so many chances to walk away.

“If you keep looking at me with such passion, I’ll start hoping our feelings are mutual.”

“You keep seeking me. Do you want to die?” Seth said, but he didn’t hear his voice; Gustavo looked at his mouth, probably to lip-read.

“We all die. But what’s the point in living if I don’t get what I want?”

“And what is it that you want that you came alone?” Seth wasn’t sure why he asked. He wasn’t interested in the answer. The man would die tonight anyway. Nothing held Seth back anymore.

“You.” Gustavo looked at him with such a stunned expression as if his answer surprised him too. “I want to know everything about you. Your every little secret.”

“And I say unto you, ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you³. Let me grant your wish, Gustavo,” Seth rustled. Two punch daggers sprung into his hands from the buckle of his belt. They glinted with reflected red light as he swished them through the air, aiming for Gustavo’s throat.

“Bible?” Gustavo smirked,ducking under the wide horizontal scoops. “Oh, Loco, you’ll go to hell for blasphemy.”

Seth struck again.

When Gustavo had ordered his security team not to follow him, he hadn’t expected such a fierce attack, not after he returned the body. The regret of not having a backup scratched at the back of his consciousness. He could have pulled the gun and pointed it at Seth. Instead, he wavered. Diego’s annoying behavior wasn’t the only reason why he’d asked him to stay outside. By coming alone, he hoped to prove he meant no evil. Pulling a gun now would overrule that intention. Not pulling it would be suicidal.

Unable to decide on the best course of action, Gustavo threw his body aside, barely avoiding the thirsty blade that cleaved the air an inch from his chin. The heavy stomps of his shoes against the metal joined the thunderstorm.

His heart shrank and expended. A mixture of confusing emotions flooded his chest, awoken by the sense of danger and a weird elation from Seth saying his name for the first time. The tension of their proximity, roaring adrenaline in his blood, eyes glowing with hatred, and droplets of water shimmering on his pale skin—everything added to his heightened state.

Dressed in a white, wet shirt, Seth looked almost impudent. With his nipples showing through the thin fabric, he was even sexier than half-naked. Water dripped from his black hair, skidded down his neck, under the unbuttoned collar, leaving shimmering roads. Gustavo wanted to explore them with his tongue. The smell of rain cocooned Seth’s body, intriguing him to the point where instead of fighting the man, he wanted to come closer and wrap his arms around Seth’s waist.

A blade, flashing in front of his nose, made him leap back, then again and again as he watched Loco go into a killing frenzy. Water, tearing from his hair strands, spewed in all directions. Red light illuminated his demonic face.

“You shouldn’t have come, fly.” Not a human voice, but a howl of wind passing through dead foliage. Seth smiled, and in the flames dancing in the depth of his pupils, Gustavo read his death sentence.

“What a smile. You could cut with it,” Gustavo whispered, heart throbbing. His back hit the rails. Watching Loco approach, he realized that Seth was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the sense of danger only enchanted this feeling. Heat streamed down his spine and hit his groin. His lungs caught on fire. He couldn’t stop staring at the furiously throbbing vein on Seth’s neck, protruding collarbones glinting with reflected fire, and pink outlines of the hard nipples beneath the wet shirt.

Fucking hell, Diego is right. I am insane. I do want him.