Third Eye: Part 1

    He woke, startled and confused.  There was someone on top of him, licking at the side of his neck as fingers tugged at the button on his denim.  Instinctively, he shoved the man away from him and sat up.  The man, his face ruddy from too much drinking, was surprised to see him conscious.  He muttered an apology as he fumbled with his unclasped pants, shoving himself back in as he backed away toward the door.  Leon stared at him - uncertain if he should be angry or be frightened, even after the man fled the room and left him alone.

    He slid off the bed that was made from a pile of three discarded, soiled mattresses.  There were empty bottles, used condoms and torn condom wrappers on the floor.  The once-red carpet now were stained with spots of brown and black.  He walked to the window and looked through the tattered curtain that barely covered it.  He was somewhere many floors up.  He couldn't see the street below - not enough street lights.  All he saw was the clock tower of a church a quarter mile away that told him it was ten-thirty five at night.  

    He padded over to the mattress and found a shirt and a jacket piled on top of a worn chair.  He assumed it was his.  He dusted the shirt off before slipping it on.  As he buttoned it - someone banged on the door.  He ignored it.  The door slammed open, nearly tearing it off the hinge.  A large, greasy man with a soiled white tee-shirt with a picture of a bottle of beer stood in the doorway.

    "Where the fuck are you going, Princess?"

    Leon tucked the shirt into his jeans and sat down on the mattress to tighten the straps on his boots.

    "You don't fucking push off customers, understand? Or do we need to go over the house rules again?"

    Leon said nothing as he slid the straps into the buckles of his boots.  

    "I said..." the man said as he came toward him.  He grabbed a fistful of Leon's shirt and pulled him up.  "Where the fuck are you going?"

    Even before he knew what he wanted to do, Leon'd brought up his right knee hard into the man's groin.  The large man doubled over, reeling backwards as he screamed, holding his injury.

    "You...little...shit...." the man said in between forced breaths.

    "I'm sorry..." Leon said.  He picked up the bomber jacket that was on the chair.  He threaded his arms through and realized the jacket didn't fit him well.  It was a couple of sizes too big.  "I don't think I belong here."

    "Don't ... you ... dare leave...." the man said and tried to stand up right.  "We...own...you..."

    Leon wanted to ask who "we" were, but felt he had a more pressing desire to leave.  He was suddenly aware of the stench of the room - the stale smell of the sex that hung thickly in the room.  He didn't want to know if he had been part of it - the scent made his belly tumble.  Soon, he felt he would start to retch.  He wanted out of there more than he wanted answers.

    "You...stop..."

    Leon turned his back on the man who was inching forward, step by painful step.  Leon slammed the door close behind him - took a deep breath and walked briskly down the hall until he found the stairs.  He nearly broke into a run, when some people started to stare at him as he walked past.  They all seemed to know something, smiling their secret smiles that he didn't understand.  He finally did break into a run, when a young man with thick scar tissues under his eyes stepped into his path.  With a crooked smile, he asked Leon, "Where would you go?" Leon ran until he was out of the run-down motel and blocks away.  He didn't stop until he was certain he was not being followed.

     Leon shoved his hands into his pockets and gathered the jacket closer to his body.  The November Night wind swept through him still and made him stop for a moment to shiver.  He quickened his pace, feeling the light droplet of the rain on his face.  As he walked, he mused that he was in a hurry to go no where.  He was not even certain if the clothes he wore were his own or the name he remembered was someone else's.

    The cold finally made him duck into the nearest business that was open - a small diner scattered with a few customers.  The waitress, a middle-aged woman with too much make-up, came to him.

    "You look cold, honey.  Have a seat."

    The woman tugged at his sleeves and led him to one of the booths along the window.

    "What'd you like?"

    Leon patted his pockets and shook his head.

    "I'm sorry. I don't seem to have any money."

    The woman frowned at him.  Then slowly, the corners of the mouth softened and turned up into a smile.

    "All right, it's on me then.  It's nice to service a good looking young man in this hell hole joint, you know."

    Leon returned the smile weakly.  

    "Just coffee...and a newspaper, if you have one, please..." Leon read the brass name plate pinned on the woman's uniform.  "Mira."

    "Of course, sweetie," Mira said and gave Leon's hand an affectionate squeeze before she saunters off to the counter.

    Mira returned in a few minutes with a badly folded newspaper and a cup of coffee in a thick ceramic mug.  She walked off, promising to return with a full plate of breakfast.  Leon took a sip of the coffee and instantly set it away from him.  It was bitter bordering absolutely awful.  He leafed through the newspaper instead.  The date meant very little to him.  As he scanned through the papers, he searched for any headlines that might jar the dormant memory inside him.  There weren't.  He was still looking through the papers, even as Mira delivered the plate of food to him and slid into the bench across from him.

    "Are you okay, honey?" Mira said as she clasped her jeweled hand onto Leon's.  "You seem so ... lost."

    Leon didn't have a chance to answer.  The front door of the diner chimed.  A cold breeze followed the new customers in and Mira looked up, past Leon at the new arrivals.

    "I'll be back in a little bit, dear.  Eat something.  You look like you really need it."

    Leon stared at the runny scrambled eggs and oily bacon.  He couldn't bring himself to reach for the fork.

    "Gentleman, where would you like to sit?" Leon heard Mira say to the new customers.  

    "Right here will be just fine - " someone said.  Three men in blue three-piece suits paused by Leon's table.  One slid in beside Leon and the other two sat across.  

    "Gentleman - I don't think this is - "

    One of the men shook his head and waved dismissively at her.

    "We are here to get something that belong to us."

    "I'm going to call the cops."

    "Go away."

    Mira's face reddened and she stormed off.  Leon noticed another man in blue suit follow her into the kitchen.

    "Don't hurt her --"

    "Aren't you sweet to think of someone else when you are in deep shit yourself," the man sitting next to him said as he ran his fingers through Leon's hair.  "You'd upset Uncle Tony."

    Vaguely, Leon placed Uncle Tony as the corpulent man he had kneed in the crotch.  

    "Just...leave me alone...." 

    "We paid a lot of money for you, baby doll."

    Leon shoved the man's hand away when it lowered to cup his cheek.

    "You are so cute when you are in denial."

    Then he heard it.  The unmistakable sound of a gunshot fired through a silencer.  Dishes and pans clattered in the kitchen.  A man's voice cursed in Spanish and another gunshot fired.  Fury seized him and without so much of a thought - Leon picked up the fork laid out in front of him and drove it through one of the men's hands, staking it into the table.  The scream made the other dining customers stand up and stare toward their table.  Leon snatched the knife from the table and plunged it into the leg of the man sitting next to him.  As the man screamed, pulling at the knife Leon left in his thigh - Leon had stood up on the bench and hurled himself over and bolted out of the door.

    He knew he was being followed. A car that had been idling beside the identical one parked on the curb followed him as he crossed the street and tried to disappear into the alley way.  There weren't enough people on the street for him to blend into.  He was not familiar with the streets.  He ran until a bricked wall stopped him.  He turned but the car was coming down the alley way, knocking aside trash cans and wooden crates as it did so, blocking his other way out.  

    The car came to a stop a few feet from him.  They had turned on the high-beams to blind him.  He heard the car doors open and he made out silhouettes of three men step out.  Leon panned his back against the wall and took deep breaths to calm himself.  

    "Turn around, hands on top of your head," one of them told him.  

    Leon shook his head.

    "I won't go back there."

    Someone laughed.

    "Oh, you won't be going back there, princess."

    More laughter.  Leon saw one of the men raise what looked like a shotgun.  

    "Say goodnight," one of them said.  

    Leon heard a small pop - nothing like the boom of the shotgun that he had expected.  He felt a sting at his chest and as he stared down at the little red dart that was stuck to him, the heat that it brought to him spread.  He slumped against the wall, strength leaving his legs as he sank down to his knees.  

    "Sonvubitch..." he whispered as he was pulled into the darkness in his mind.      

    

    He returned to consciousness in a haze - the pain in his body dull.  Something was boring into him - shoving slowly inside.  With a distant awareness, he felt himself being split open as something that felt impossibly thick was driven into him.  The pain was no longer dull.  With a gasp, he became conscious and tried to crawl away.  

    "Hold him down," someone said.  Another shove.  It hurt.

    Someone'd held him by the back of his neck and pressed him down.  He smelled dirt and grass.  His wrists were pushed down by someone's knees.  The weight of them were painful, especially when he thrashed - trying to pull himself away from the hot pain that went deeper and deeper inside him.  Soon, he felt he would be consumed by the heat.

    "Please - " his voice was rough, he could barely breathe.  The grip on his neck tightened.  

    "Stab me will ya, little shit? Well, how'd you like being stabbed now?"

    Laughter.  

    "Say you are sorry, bitch."

    A growl escaped him instead.  The men laughed again.

    The cock inside him ripped deeper and harder into him as the other men cheered.  The man raping him cursed out loud, stopped for a moment and came inside him.  The warmth he had left in him burned the cuts he had made inside.  The hand that held his neck was loosened.  Before he could collect his bearing, another one slammed into him.  This one felt larger, splitting him open even wider.  

    "Been wanting to fuck this sweet ass of yours since the day I saw you," someone with a thick Texan accent said.  "Knew you would be tight.  Goddamn - still very tight even after someone got through first."

    The Texan slapped the cheek of his ass twice and hooted.  The other men laughed.

    "Ride 'em cowboy," someone said.

    "You like this, don't you? Goddamn - I know you do."

    He had stopped screaming.  It was a difficult effort not to.  But he didn't want to give anything else to these men.  He gritted his teeth together and held back everything that wanted to come out from the pit of his belly and up through his throat.  He barely noticed when the second man had pulled out and left his cum on the small of his back.

    "On his back.  I want to him to look at me when I fuck him."

    The pressure on his wrists were let up and he was rolled onto his back.  From the corner of his eyes, Leon saw a small pond.  There were few trees that hung over, shielding them from the moonless and starless night.  The only light were from the two sedans' headlights they'd left on.

    "Bad bad boy," the man that'd knelt between his knee said as he shook his head.  "But, I'll be nice to you."

    His thighs were spread further and lifted up slightly.  The new invasion was not as painful but it still hurt.  The man was slow, almost careful.

    "Shit, you ain't fucking your wife dumb ass, make him scream," the man sitting on the hood of the car smoking a cigarette said.  

    "I guess I am just a nice guy," the man said, sliding in and out of Leon with long measured strokes.  He bent down and licked at Leon's mouth, before slipping his tongue in.  It was an instinct that made him bite down on the tongue.  His mouth went coppery with the taste of blood as the man drew back, screaming as he clasped his hand over his mouth.

    "Fuckin' bitch!"

    "I guess you showed him what a nice guy's good for," the man on the sedan said, laughing.

    "Damn it... turn him around and hold him down."

    He was shoved back onto his belly again.  Before his mind registered what had happened, a loud snap coupled with a sharp pain resonated, echoing the night with terrible clarity.  He bit down on his lower lip, refusing to cry out.  Another slash across his back.  And another.  Tears welled up in his eyes but he still refused to scream.  As defiant as he was, the blows were coming down harder by each stroke.  He didn't even know it when the whipping had stopped.  His back burned, the pain had consumed him completely.

    The weight on his wrists were gone again.  This time, he felt someone's feet nudged him until he rolled onto his back.  The grass cooled the fire on his back temporarily at least.  He didn't even care when the man who had whipped him knelt back down between his legs and shoved his erection back into him roughly.  He didn't care anymore, as he panned his eyes past the other men who stood around in a semi-circle, watching him.  He focused on the dark outline of the trees, the way it swayed slightly in the wind.  It suddenly occurred to him that he was cold.  It had been a cold night but it didn't register that he was cold until then.  He wondered if he was losing his mind, when he felt the urge to ask his rapists if he could have his shirt back.  Something just to keep him warm for a little bit. He won't even mind if those men continued to use him.  

    Why should he mind?      

End Part 1

Go to Part 2