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Shadows of Lust and Wrath
Shadows of Lust - The Devil's Cure

Shadows of Lust - The Devil's Cure

Paranoia was not a new feeling to Blaine, but it never got any easier to deal with. They dreaded the thought of returning to bed. If they were having nightmares beforehand, they were sure to be even worse after their recent encounters that night. Every step closer to their house filled them with more and more despair. They dreaded the thoughts that might fill their head as they stared at the stained carpets, the holes in the walls, the ripped curtains, and all of the other imperfections that had stories to accompany their damage.

When they finally approached the front door, they gripped the doorknob with hesitation. Blaine took a deep breath to try and prepare themself for the flood of emotions. It was not enough, however. As soon as the door opened, they were overwhelmed with familiar sights, smells, and sounds that swarmed their brain with old and new experiences all blended together in a terrible tornado of senses. They began to inhale and exhale rapidly, with each breath brining new uncomfortable senses that made their breathing even faster. In seconds their eyes filled with tears and they dropped to their knees, clutching their head in their hands. As they tried to will their mind into silence, a quiet sound started to slither into their ears. It got louder and louder, until a sudden cold sensation on their shoulder forced them to open their eyes and turn their head.

“Are you okay?” The distorted voice finally became comprehensible to Blaine. As soon as they recognized what spoke, they scooted their body from the doorway to the carpet in shock and fear. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s me, Tim.” At first Blaine began to relax, but all of the emotions inside them quickly shifted from fear to anger as they stood and began to shout.

“You followed me home?” Blaine belted out, admittedly louder than they wanted.

“I wanted to make sure you got back safe.” The guilty looking shadow seemed to shrink below Blaine, desperately trying to avoid their rage.

“I don’t need your help!” The urge to grab their flashlight grew, but a soft shuffling noise pulled away all of their senses.

“Blaine? Is that you?” A hoarse whisper broke through the cacophony of screams. Blaine’s head shot to the hallway and saw the one familiar sight that usually brought them comfort, though in this moment it brought them more fear. In a second of panic Blaine’s head shot behind their shoulder only to see the shadow who insisted on being called “Tim” was nowhere to be seen. After a wave of relief, they looked back at the small figure in the hallway.

The young boy standing in the hall clutched a blue blanket covered in small black stains. Despite the sticky mess, it provided him with comfort against the coldness that was slowly overpowering his tiny body. His hair, once brown and curly like Blaine’s, was dark and slicked back to his scalp as though filled with gel. Blue eyes were sunken in and red with tears from constant coughing and sneezing. Though he was standing on his feet, he shook like he could collapse at any minute.

“Jesse! What are you doing out of bed?” Blaine rushed to the little boy’s side, preparing to carry him if he fell over.

“I heard you come in and wanted to say hi. Who were you talking to?” Jesse looked around to see who the victim of Blaine’s screaming match was only to see an empty room.

“No one, buddy. I was talking to myself.” Blaine lied, though they desperately wished it was the truth.

“You’re pretty mean to yourself.” His words sounded like a joke but were said in total seriousness.

“I know.” They were thinking about how the statement was more true than Jesse realized. “Come on, you should get back to bed.”

“I’m hungry, Blaine.” Jesse attempted to whine but did not have enough strength, so it came out more like a pained whisper.

“Of course, buddy, let’s get you something to eat.” Blaine held Jesse’s hand and walked him to the kitchen. They lit the stove and put a can of soup into the pot. The smell made Blaine’s stomach begin to rumble, but they knew Jesse needed it more. Though they had just gotten food from the village, the pickings were slimmer than they had hoped since they had just been attacked by those shadows. Blaine remembered what Tim had said about those shadows not actually being the culprits, and anxiety began to eat away at their mind. What if Tim was telling the truth and Blaine had killed innocents? Was it possible for shadows to be innocent? What if the village was still in danger?

When Blaine tuned back into reality, they saw the soup starting to burn at the bottom and they quickly scraped it with a spoon. They poured it into a bowl and placed it in front of Jesse, who sat excitedly at a small wooden table, just big enough for both of them to sit at together. Despite that, Blaine remained standing, watching Jesse to make sure he ate and kept the food down. Jesse frowned at the bowl.

“Just one? Where is yours?” Despite his protests, he quickly began to slurp up some of the noodles.

“You need the food to get big and strong, I’m already big and strong!” Blaine flexed their arms to show off muscles that were not quite visible through their long sleeves.

“But you could get bigger and stronger!” Jesse scooped some soup into the spoon and offered it to Blaine, who backed away slightly. The spoon, while filled with soup, was also coated in a thin layer of black mucus.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Jesse, I’m fine, really.” They said, trying to comfort their brother whose hand was beginning to shake just from holding the utensil. He continued eating with a defeated expression on his face until the bowl was mostly empty. Blaine could see in Jesse’s weary eyes that he wanted to fight more to get them to eat, but they could not afford to waste any resources. They could live without another meal. Jesse’s head began to dip down slowly then pop back up, struggling to lift itself as he was falling asleep over his bowl. Slipping the silverware and the bowl out of Jesse’s reach, Blaine scooped his small body into their arms and began to carry him into his room. They clicked on an electric heater which had automatically turned off to avoid overheating, then wrapped Jesse in an electric blanket and proceeded to turn it on as well. Being in the room for more than 5 minutes was excruciating, the heat was a kind which felt like walking into a broken oven that did not care if its heat set the whole house ablaze.

As Blaine tucked Jesse into bed, they heard a slight rhythm in his breathing. They leaned in and realized that he was actually humming a melody. It was the melody of a song that Blaine used to sing to Jesse when he was a baby, as well as whenever Blaine wanted to keep Jesse from hearing their father’s episodes. They smiled and began to hum along with Jesse, causing his eyes to crack open slightly.

“Can you sing for me, please?” The sickly boy whispered, struggling to form coherent thoughts. Blaine sighed and nodded, opening their mouth slightly behind their mask and letting the melody continue with vocals. They did not particularly like their own voice, but they would do anything that comforted their brother. The hushed lullaby sang about escaping, finding a better place, and being happy. All of those sounded like impossible feats, both before and now. But when it was just the two of them together, they felt like for a moment they were transported to this better place together. As the last lyrics slipped from Blaine’s lips, the humming from Jesse was replaced with a slight snoring. They stepped on the tips of their toes and crept out of the bedroom, shutting the door until it was barely cracked open.

The couch released a puff of air as Blaine slumped their body down into the cushions. A puff of air was also released from Blaine’s lips as they closed their eyes, trying to debate sleeping as well.

“He’s sick, isn’t he?” A quiet voice spoke, nearly causing Blaine to jump out of their skin. They turned and saw the annoyingly familiar shadow standing in the doorway Blaine thought they closed. “Shadow syndrome?”

“What are you still doing here?” A shout-whisper mixture spewed from Blaine’s throat. Tim looked at the ground in shame.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, so to speak.” The shadow began.

“Well, we started with kidnapping, moved on to stalking, and now we have breaking and entering. Tell me again why I don’t flip that light switch?” Blaine stuck a finger at a switch on the wall they knew was no longer functional.

“Believe me, you can if you want.” Tim stood under the light fixture stuck to the ceiling. “But after all of the chances you’ve had to kill me, you haven’t. I don’t know why, I don’t know you, but I-” Blaine could see the hesitation in Tim’s face. “I need your help. And I think I can help you too.”

“How can you help me?” There was a bit of hesitation from Blaine. They wondered if they were considering a deal with the devil, but needed to know the terms first.

“My friends and I, we knew that the other shadows’ behavior is wrong to say the least.” Blaine scoffed, but let Tim continue. “The reason I wanted to find that infected person, the reason we had him in the first place, was because we were studying him. We wanted to find a way to help him. To cure him.”

“Why?” Blaine interrupted. “What reason do you have for curing people?”

“Because I’m ashamed, Blaine!” Tim held back, trying not to scream and wake Jesse. It took a moment to compose itself. “I’m ashamed that so many people are getting hurt by my kind. I’m ashamed that I can’t stop them on my own. I’m ashamed of the way people look at me, waiting for me to pounce like some kind of animal who can’t control my impulses. I don’t benefit from a cure, but you do. That’s all I care about. I need your help, Blaine. Even if I found a cure, who would trust me? Who would accept a cure from the same creature that made them sick?” Blaine contemplated; Tim had a point.

“What’s your plan? Did you and your friends come to any kind of conclusion?” There was a hint of guilt in Blaine’s voice as they mentioned Tim’s friends.

“The way shadow syndrome works is different from a normal virus. It doesn’t need the human host to survive. The shadow’s DNA replicates inside a human cell and makes it something else. You can’t fix the infected cells, but you can’t eliminate them either. If every infected cell dies, then those parts of the person are gone too. They need to be replaced.” Tim spoke with the insight of someone who had studied this their whole life. Blaine admittedly struggled to follow.

“Replaced with what?” They asked, trying to comprehend what Tim was suggesting.

“Remember when I fought those other shadows? I was able to use my blood to fight them because my DNA is different from theirs somehow. It attacks theirs, neutralizes it.” Tim put its hands together and began pacing the floor. “It was something my friends noticed with their DNA as well, it was the basis of our theories. If we could somehow get my DNA into an infected person, it could stop the hostile cells and stop it from spreading!” Blaine nodded along, trying to match Tim’s quiet excitement.

“And you could do that with Jesse? How?” It was beginning to hit Blaine that this nightmare could possibly be over.

“Well, I would need to get my DNA into his body somehow, a blood transfusion would be simple enough.” Tim smiled, feeling like everything had finally been solved.

“Like with needles? Tim, Jesse is six, it was a fight just to get him a flu shot.” They hated shutting Tim down, but Blaine needed to be realistic.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t have to be blood. Any kind of contact would do.” Tim pondered for a moment, then made an excited expression. “Ooh! If it could be administered orally then there would be no need for needles. Some kind of mouth-to-mouth contact. A kiss, for example.”

“Get out.” Blaine growled.

“What?” Tim looked over with confusion.

“GET OUT!” They no longer cared about remaining quiet, they barely cared about remaining calm. Blaine struggled to look the shadow in the eyes. Tim shrunk back and began to speak, but after seeing Blaine’s enraged expression it realized it had spoken out of turn.

“I’m sorry.” That was all Tim could manage to say before slipping out of the door, which Blaine quickly shut and locked. Their eyes burned from blinking back tears and stifling screams. Out of all of the rage, fear, pain, and every emotion in between that was stewing in the pit of Blaine’s stomach, one stood out as the dominant one. Betrayal.