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“He – he made him stop. And he said he was sorry!”
Casey steps away from him, the cold seeping back into Carter’s bones with the loss of his presence. “You’re not special. You’re just a hole to him.”
“No.” Carter tries to step toward Casey, but he can’t see him in the dark. He reaches out, waving his hand, but there’s nothing there. “He said I’m special. He said I’m the only one he wants.”
When Casey speaks, his voice is soft. Far away. Carter’s heart pounds as he realizes he’s losing Casey again. “I can’t believe you love him.”
“I don’t.” Carter swallows a sob. “Casey, come back. Where are you going? Come back.”
“Sweetheart?” Sir hums softly, the sound he makes when he’s contemplating. Then he whispers right in Carter’s ear. “Come back to me. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Come back.”
“Stay,” Casey begs.
“Come, sweetheart. Come to sir.”
“Please, Carter!”
“Sweetheart.”
Casey shrieks, the sound sharp and violent. Carter quickly brings his hands to his ears to check if they’re bleeding. “They’ll kill me, Carter! They’ll kill me! Please! Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!”
Sir sighs in annoyance. “If you want to stay, then fucking stay. But I’m not coming back for you. This will be your life now. The dark. The loneliness. The hunger and thirst. Is that what you want? Don’t I treat you so much better than that, sweetheart? I don’t ask that much of you, and I take such good care of you when you’re good, don’t I?”
Yes.
Yes, he does.
Being with sir has been so much better than the dark.
Carter won’t survive the dark. He can’t be left here. Not again.
Never again.
“Last chance, sweetheart.”
“Please don’t leave me, Carter!” Casey rasps. “Please don’t leave me again.”
Carter grabs at his hair, yanking it. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do!”
“Alright.” Sir sighs. When he speaks again, his voice is too far away. He’s leaving. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”
“Wait, no!” Panic seizes Carter’s body. “Sir, please. I don’t want to be in the dark anymore. I don’t want to be alone. Please! I’ll come with you. Please!”
“Shhh.” A hand touches Carter’s face. Gentle. Comforting. He reaches for it, wanting to hold it there, but it vanishes. Carter sobs at the loss. “Shhh. You’re okay, sweetheart. Just follow my voice. Be a good boy and follow my voice.”
Carter can do that. He can be a good boy.
He stumbles through the dark, blind, falling twice, once right on his damn face, but then there’s a light ahead, and he’s fucking running. His lungs ache. His body begs him to stop. He needs water. Food. He’s hurt.
Just a little farther.
Just a little farther.
“Car-ter,” sir singsongs. “Where are you?”
“I’m coming!” Carter tries to yell, but his throat is too raw. All that comes out of him is a strangled cry that tastes metallic on his tongue.
Then he bursts forward into the light.
