Nowhere to Run

Marcellus recalled how his family was slaughtered during the Final War of the Roman Republic. In fear that the war would be set in Italy, they made their escape to Alexandria. The senate enraged by Antony's will that had been obtained rather unscrupulously, by Octavian—later named Augustus—debated a declaration of war on Mark Antony. Octavian blamed Cleopatra, thereby convincing the senate otherwise.

And so, war was declared on the queen of Egypt.

Marcellus took his lovely wife, Alessa, and his beloved son, Bettino, on a family holiday. For several months they basked in the sites, smells and scenery of the largest port in Egypt. Marcellus had used the excuse that he needed to reinforce a new trade business, as his means of escaping the askant glances of the senate and emperor or Rome. Though, it wasn't a falsehood, the truth of the matter was that he feared for their lives and wanted to protect his family.

Alessa came to mind and he almost moaned at the remembrance of her soft, supple skin, rich with the olive sheen of her ancestry. Her voluptuous curves and lithe limbs ceaselessly kept him glancing to her, needing her, wanting to take her into his arms and love her completely, endlessly.

Dark wavy tresses often glided through his fingers, and were silken soft, that would make him often shiver with want. Opulent jasper gaze, as sultry as it was, would spark a heat within him that he had never known with anyone before.

Then there was Bettino, a playfully active youth that thrived on life and living. Curiosity kept him in more trouble, than he had ever meant to get into. It was that curiosity that led to the demise of his family—.

"What are the options?" Joshua asked, as the silence in the room finally became unbearable, and interrupted Marcellus' muse.

Marcellus drew in a long mournful breath and shook off the memory of his family. He was in the throws of swallowing another sip of wine, when the question came. He lowered the glass and looked to the young man blankly for a moment. That had never been a question he had ever been faced with answering before. Usually, it was, "what will you do with me," which Joshua had already asked.

He considered the options, quickly, finding himself amused by the question.

"I could turn you, Joshua. Or, I could toy with you till dawn and leave you where you hang...."

"You could kill me, too," Joshua volunteered.

"Is that what you desire?" Marcellus stared at the young man with expressionless eyes.

"I don't know what I want, Marcellus." Joshua's head drifted down, as emotional pain filled him with the loss of his recent lover. It was a crushing blow that left him weakened and unable to digest his emotional state much at all. He found himself with such emptiness that no amount of pleasure could ever fulfill. How he longed for Casey, even then.

Marcellus canted his head and studied Joshua. He could sense the pain the young man felt, as if he were Joshua himself. Strong. Cold. A vast chasm of emptiness and grief. It was a familiar emotion that he still often struggled with, even as a vampire.

Marcellus' hand came up and wiped a lone tear that drifted from his eye and studied it on the pad of his finger for a moment. It seemed strange to him. He hadn't wept the loss of his family, since he had been sired into his new existence. Still, the combination of memories of the past, and Joshua's recent loss of his lover, weighed heavily upon him in those moments.

"I am sorry about Casey, Joshua. If it could be that I could bring him back, I would...for you," he stated solemnly.

"Why?" Joshua lifted his head slowly.

"Because I like you, Joshua."

Marcellus then directed his attention to the glass, which was empty. He lifted the bottle and filled it slowly.

"Why?"

Marcellus chuckled with the thought that Joshua sounded like a broken record.

"Because you intrigue me." He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip.

"Why?"

The man knew why Joshua asked, even though it seemed so child-like. The young man had no self-worth, self-confidence, nor did he value his life much at all.

"For several reasons, my dear boy. For one..." Marcellus turned to Joshua in the chair once again. "how many are in there?" he asked bluntly.

"How many? How many what?"

"Personalities...alters...how many are there?"

"I don't know of any," Joshua shifted nervously.

"Oh, come now, my dear boy." Marcellus stood and ambled closer, his glass of wine in hand. "Don't lie to me. I know you have at least one other. How many more are there?"

Joshua dragged out a sigh. "I don't know of any others," he muttered.

"So, assuming the...'other'...is the only...'other'...what, is his name?"

"I don't know that either."

"Then what triggers a response from him?"

"Pain."

"Do you like pain, Joshua?"

"No."

"No, you don't." Marcellus could sense it, even as Joshua had answered. "In fact," he turned and went back to the chair, where he sat again; being the young man was so compliant at the moment. "You fear pain, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"You also fear sex, yet you asked me to make love to you. Why, Joshua?"

"You intrigue me," Joshua fought a wicked grin that attempted to play across his lips.

Marcellus chuckled. "I like you, Joshua. In fact, I like you very much."

There was a moment of silence.

"Tell me about your father, Joshua."

"I don't remember him."

Marcellus could sense the young man was being honest about that fact. He could see nothing of the young man's parents, or anything that reflected a memory of them, when he gazed into Joshua's eyes. Draping an arm over the back of the chair, his forefinger twitched slightly.

Joshua's head flew back with a groan. His teeth gritted tightly, he hissed through them with sporadic breaths. Pain swept through his entire body, as if someone was twisting his muscles in unnatural positions. Quickly, he regressed, unable to endure the intensity.

A corner of Marcellus' lips turned up into a wicked grin, when he sensed the switch. He watched the young man's mouth come open and take in a few long deep breaths. A low, guttural growl began, that progressively grew louder, and hung in the air around them. Joshua's head came up, his eyes glared at the source of his discomfort.

"Fucker! Is that all you got?!" his quivering airy voice bit into the atmosphere around them.

"Oh, you want more?" Marcellus laughed lightly, and gave a new twitch of his finger.

Joshua cried out. His body shook, as his muscles visibly locked.

"Fuck you!" the young man screamed.

"Oh, you

are

intriguing, my dear boy." Marcellus stood and approached with deepened curiosity.

When the Marcellus came within reach, the Joshua kicked hard. The vampire stepped back, but raked his nails across the young man's chest. Joshua's head went down, hiding his face from Marcellus.

"Shall we continue this power struggle...or would you like a reprieve?" he asked politely, eyeing the light scoring across Joshua's chest with marked concern. They hadn't begun bleeding, so he diverted his stare to the young man's demeanor.

Slowly, the head came up revealing tears. Joshua bit back the very words that came to mind and swallowed hard.

"Yes, please," he breathed with a shudder.

"Very well." Marcellus smiled gently and lifted his hand.

With relief, Joshua sagged, his weight fully on his wrists and the ropes.

"Have some wine to sooth you, my dear boy," Marcellus spoke softly, as he placed the glass to the young man's lips. "Tell me your name." he asked, as the human gulped down the wine.

"I have no name, sir," the young man answered, when he had emptied the glass and warmth flooded him.

"Well then, we'll just have to give you a name." Marcellus smiled broadly. "If you could have any name you desired, what would it be?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it."

"David is a good name."

"What is your name?" the young man perused Marcellus with lusty eyes.

"Marcellus." The vampire chuckled, sensing the heat of his stare and the implications within it.

"That's a good name. I like it."

"Thank you...ah....but, what shall I call you?"

"Whatever you like, Marcellus. I don't give a shit."

"Ah, mind your manners, my boy," Marcellus warned.

He studied the human for a long moment. "You're used to being called dreadful names, but I shall give you a name by which you will be known, my dear boy." He grinned for a moment. "I think I shall call you...Ugo."

"Ugo? Why?" The young man stared at Marcellus curiously. He wasn't sure if he liked that name, not yet anyway.

"It is from the Germanic form of Hugh, with means 'heart, mind, or spirit'."

"Hugh," the young man nodded slowly. "I like it." He grinned up at the vampire.

"Marvelous." Marcellus chuckled, as he turned, ambling to the table and poured another glass of wine.

"Let's talk, shall we, Ugo?" Marcellus sat and sipped his wine as he spoke.

"Okay. What did you want to talk about?" Ugo watched Marcellus intently, not privy to the fact that the vampire was aware of every move he made or thought that crossed his mind.

"You, my dear boy." He grinned in that Ugo stared at him while he poured the wine, thirsty and still hungry, having barely eaten that evening.

"What about me?" Ugo licked his lips, as Marcellus lifted the glass to his and sipped the wine. Tantalizing. Inviting a greater desire.

"Tell me about your father, Ugo." He lowered the glass, never looking in the young man's direction.

"What about him?" Ugo almost barked.

Marcellus turned his head in Ugo's direction. "I will not warn you again. Mind your manners, Ugo." The vampire's eyes burned with displeasure at the young man's tone.

"Yes, sir." Ugo lowered his head in submission.

Marcellus smiled. "Now, answer me. I want to hear about your father."

"The only father I remember was an uncle we called Bear. He looked like a bear because he had thick hair all over his body..."

"Yes, he still lives. Did you run away from him?" Marcellus turned in the chair to face Ugo.

"Yes, I did. He was cruel and did things to me...awful things," the young man muttered the last.

"What sort of things?" Marcellus pressed, though he knew.

"Beatings, sex, forced sex...you name it," Ugo controlled his tone viciously, afraid of what Marcellus might do.

"But you like sex. And you like forced sex," the vampire commented.

"Yeah...now I do. When it started, it wasn't all that much fun!" the young man answered with conviction.

"Understandably so. That is where you came from, isn't it—an occasion of forced sex that Joshua could not deal or cope with?"

"Yes, it is."

"You help him cope and deal with pain and sex, don't you?"

"If you don't mind me asking, but since you know so much about it, why ask?" Ugo's brow furrowed in bewilderment of the direct questions.

"Curiosity, my dear Ugo." Marcellus stood, ambling toward the young man. "There's more I want to know..."

"Like what?" Ugo began trembling. The last time Marcellus approached was much less than pleasant. He could only hope the man had no further plans of torturing him.

A corner of the vampire's lips turned up, as the human's heart rate sped up dramatically. His blood raced through his veins, tempting the beast to show its face again. The smell of fear permeated the air around Ugo, vexing the man's grip and control over his fiendish side.

"How does it feel when you switch, Ugo?" his tone changed and his speech had an added lisp.

Ugo stared at the lethal fangs that extended and sharpened before his eyes. They nestled over the bottom lip and caused the upper to bulge slightly.

"I'm gonna die, ain't I?" the young man's voice quivered as he asked.

"It's what you desired when I arrived, Ugo." The vampire reached a slow hand to the human's cheek, that Ugo pressed into, having longed for the man's touch. "Hmm..." Marcellus moaned at the feel of Ugo's warmth. "It's such a shame to loose such softness and warmth," he muttered, as his face came closer.

"But...it doesn't have to be that way. I would stay with you. Wait on you. Do whatever you wanted," Ugo's voice quaked more. His fear rose to an almost unbearable height.

"Yes, you're used to being a little slave whore, aren't you, my dear Ugo?" the fiend planted a cool kiss to the young man's lips.

"Yes, sir. But I don't mind," Ugo whispered, his warm breath bathed Marcellus' face in shudders.

The creature chuckled. "But, I do mind. I believe you deserve better, my boy."

"Better?" Ugo couldn't fathom his meaning. "What could be better than death, or life, or slavery?"

"Answer my earlier question. How does it feel when you switch?" The fiend's lips trailed a path to the young man's throat, as his hand moved back and gripped a fistful of hair at the back of Ugo's head.

"I-I don't know..." the young man's voice shook fiercely. "It's like coming out of a sea of darkness. Like watching life through a television. And it's like feeling free again."

"Yessss..." the vampire hissed softly, then teased the hidden, pulsing vein with his tongue. "You see, I too switch, from man to vampire, as easily as you do, from Joshua to Ugo." He pressed his lips to the pulse-point, sensing the strong throb. His desire rose fervidly along with his need.

"I understand the frustrations Joshua feels, in not recalling certain details, though I do remember all that I do. Yet, at times I wish to forget. You, on the other hand, remember all that Joshua cannot. You remember the violent nights, spent being a slave to your uncle and his friends. You remember the pain, the humiliation, everything associated with those events. And you keep them hidden from Joshua to protect him. You're a noble one, Ugo. A noble young man that I desire."

Marcellus sensed the burning deep within him, the desire that ran deeper than the undercurrent of a fast moving river or stream. It permeated his body, consuming him with need. He wanted a taste. Just a taste of Ugo. That very desire tormented him deliciously. Powerfully.

Marcellus withdrew from Ugo quickly. His release was so fast, it startled the young man who yelped. The vampire stormed to the table and lifted the glass to his lips, downing the contents quickly.

"Funny how this has very little effect upon me anymore. I sometimes long for its soothing essences that I so easily recall before I was made." He stared at the glass in his hand as if enthralled by it.

"I'm so sorry, Marcellus," Joshua muttered.

Marcellus turned, noting that the switch had taken place again. He smiled gently at the young man. "It's not your fault. Why do you apologize for my own plight?"

"I just feel for you. I guess I understand, even a little bit."

Marcellus chuckled. "You might think you do, my dear boy. But you will know soon enough."

"You're gonna turn me, ain't you?"

Marcellus considered Joshua for a long moment and thought about his son, Bettino. He had never had the opportunity to rear Bettino, as he could with Joshua. It would be his fervid parental right to be involved in every step of his fledgling's growth and the education of the dark gift.

"Yes," the man answered instantly. "I want you near me...always. You please me, delightfully so."

"Do I have a say in this at all?" Joshua ventured.

"Such as?" Marcellus lowered the glass to the table and gave the young man his full attention, surprised by the question.

"Can't I just live with you for a while first?"

Marcellus laughed. "Why do you now fear death, when earlier you desired it?"

"Maybe I've realized I'm not ready," Joshua muttered and hung his head to his chest.

"Oh? Perhaps you've also realized your love for Casey was only physical as well?" He approached the young man again—this time in full control of the beast. "He raped you, kidnapped you, and held you prisoner here the past six months. What kind of love could do that to someone, unless it was obsessive, selfish, and greedy?"

Joshua's lips trembled and he choked back a sob of grief. "Why would you say things like that about him? He was good to me! He was gentle, kind, and took care of me!" Joshua shouted.

"As long as you complied with his desires...yes. If you had disobeyed, only one point of his requests, he would have punished you, Joshua. You were his slave, his prisoner. Don't you see the truth of the matter?!" the vampire growled at the young man. "You were no more to Casey, than you were to your uncle...Bear, I believe, was his name."

Joshua drug in a long accentuated breath. "How dare you!"

Marcellus laughed. "How dare me?" His laughter faded quickly, unable to ignore the hurt and pain the young man was experiencing. "Open your eyes and see the truth, Joshua. You were his slave, nothing more," the man barely spoke above a whisper.

"No!" Joshua whined, though he knew that Marcellus was right. Still, he didn't want to accept that truth. He loved Casey, and Casey had loved him. Or it seemed Casey had.

"You know it's true, Joshua, and I hate the pain you feel in realization of it. Yet, you must know it. You must see it, to be free of it."

"You only want to hurt me more!" Joshua barked coarsely, his voice deep with the constriction of his throat and the emotions that pummeled him.

"No, Joshua. I only want you to be free and know the truth," the man muttered and reached a hand to the young man's cheek.

Joshua veered from his touch coldly.

"As you wish, my dear Joshua, I will not force you." Marcellus turned, ambling back to the table once more. He sat gracefully in silence to allow the human to think on it for a time. His heart was stung, but he would not bend the truth to suit the human.

***

Joshua looked over at the bed where the vampire slept. He couldn't believe the fiend rested comfortably, while had having left him to hang from the rafter. The least Marcellus could have done was tied him to the bed. The creature had not so much as offered to cut him down.

But then, Joshua had not asked.

Joshua's thoughts went to Stan and wondered what had become of the man. He envisioned that Marcellus had ended the thug's menace to society with that primal thirst of his. How he hoped that the creature had. He almost sucked in an overjoyed breath at the thought.

The world without Stan.

It made him smile.

His belly grumbled. Joshua wondered if Marcellus would feed him, when he woke. He was thirsty...oh, so thirsty.

Is it like this for him?

He thought to himself.

As the day wore on, he became groggy. But it was difficult to sleep. Joshua rested his head against an arm and tried to sleep, but pain coursed down his arms and kept him awake. Every attempt to sleep was hampered, encumbered. It was impossible.

The creature finally stirred. As Joshua looked in the direction of the bed, Marcellus disappeared—right before his eyes. The door above was heard, closing with a boom. Joshua sighed. The fiend had chosen not to drink from one so nearby.

But why? Why wouldn't Marcellus at least take a sip of him?

Joshua recalled the night before, as the man's lips brushed his throat. At that moment, he hadn't realized what Marcellus was. The sensations that ripped through him, were as fresh, as if it had only just transpired.

He felt a tightening, in his lower belly, as he recalled it. How erotic it had been. He shivered, as he felt those lips brush his skin, the absorbed warmth of them, as pleasant as the softness of silk or satin. Then the moist cooling tip of Marcellus' tongue, stiff, wet, teasing the area.

Joshua caught a moan in his throat that drew him back to reality. His cock twitched, full and needy. He wanted Marcellus, wanted the fiend to touch him, take him and make him, his own. Yet, he was afraid. He feared what he didn't understand, the unknown.

Still, none of the sensations he felt, the arousal he experienced, none of it, answered his question.