3. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Geoffrey bit back a gasp when the floor dropped from under him. The sound was stifled by the grinding whine of the lift’s descent, but Geoff still heard a low chuckle, and his hands scrabbled on the bar behind him. He blinked against the darkness, opaque black creeping into his eyes and ears and nostrils, clogging his lungs and pressing into his chest. His skin prickled, hyper-aware, trying to sense from which direction the soft draughts of air would become the hard grip of a small-fingered hand. But no touch ever came, no voice in his ear or heat on his neck, and the delay made Geoff’s breath whistle in his open throat. His fear popped whiter behind his eyes with each passing second. The chinks of light from each passing floor bounced in front of Geoff’s dilated pupils and disoriented him even further, until he could only hold on to the metal behind him and draw in long breaths of black and feel his flesh crawl with the waiting. The car jerked to a violent stop, nearly knocking Geoff off balance as a tinny alarm bell wheezed into life and was abruptly shut off. There was a buzz and a crackle, and the lift brightened to a sickly-dim red that bled from a single bulb by the panel. Geoff’s eyes focused on the arrow wobbling between 6 and 5, and the flashing emergency signal blinking just beside the hand that tapped its fingers neatly above the ‘stop’ button. He was watching Geoffrey silently, the same little smirk on his curving lips that he’d given Geoff a week before when Geoff had been staring up at him with much the same expression of curious fear. The same unknown glimmer in his hellfire eyes, a sort of pointed green spark that made Geoff’s mind inexplicably whisper the word ‘devour’. And another chuckle, low and short, in the same voice that had curled into his burning ears seven days ago and taken up permanent residence. Pretty lad. It was all madness, the worst of mistakes, even for Geoffrey, and the desire to flee and scream and beat on the filthy walls was only heightened by the fact that he did none of those things. He merely leaned back into the rail and returned the stare, the world reduced to shades of red and black and his chaotic brain repeating the same word over and over with a mix of flight and fight that made his body tremble. Trapped. The dead bulb overhead was swinging gently on its chain, creaking in a slow rhythm that got louder and louder as Geoffrey’s gaze fixed on the man who was walking toward him. The bar squeaked slightly as Geoffrey’s back slid across it, inching over a bit more with each click of Italian shoes on linoleum, until the corner of the lift bumped his shoulders and he could go no further. He could only wet his cracked lips when the red light was blotted out, and fight the terror that welled up at the expression on the face that bore down on him. Trapped, I’m trapped-- He put his hands on the wall on either side of Geoffrey’s face and leaned in close, close enough to smell, sharp and tangy mix of sweat and whisky and bad cologne. Geoffrey tried to drop his eyes, but he found he couldn’t, had to stare into their spiteful green depths and see his own tiny reflection there. When he spoke, his breath slithered hot across Geoffrey’s face and down the back of his neck, and Geoffrey’s spine twisted and he shivered from head to toe. “You think you’re smart, boy?” He was looking down at Geoff, somehow, though they were virtually the same height. Geoff realized this was because he was leaning into the tiny corner of the lift, feet spread and palms flat on the wall. Some back part of Geoff’s brain noted that his left trainer was still untied. He swallowed hard, and tried to make his bobbing throat work. It wasn’t fast enough. A hard flash in those deadly-calm eyes, and then a bit clearer: “Don’t fuck with me, b--boy. Don’t ever think you can fuck with me. I asked you a question. You think you’re smart, yeah? A clever little inspector? Answer me.” There was a high-pitched crack, which Geoffrey recognized as his own voice. “...no...” And that got those eyes to darken, got a slow hot smile to creep across those thin and stubbled cheeks. He shifted position, maneuvered his balance, bent his arm to lean in close while the other drifted down into the shadows beyond Geoff’s vision. One foot was now between Geoff’s own, and Geoff had never had his personal space taken from him like this, never felt the weight of someone else’s body pressing into him, tight smooth fabric over the folds of his sweatshirt, belt buckle sharp on his hipbone, painfully intruding, until he cowered and shrank into himself and shuddered at the contact. The look in those green eyes shook him to his seventeen-year-old foundation, and he heard himself repeat the no at least once more. A touch on his thigh made him jerk like he’d been branded. It took his brain a moment to realize it was neither palm nor finger, but something harder, more solid, something that made his eyes go wide and his heart flare bright and frantic with abrupt panic. He tried to press back and away but he was already flat against the wall. Trapped, trapped... The pressure drew slowly up his body, up and over the gaping waistband of his jeans to dig icy-sharp into the soft flesh of his belly. Geoffrey’s brow began to furrow as he processed cold metal instead of hot flesh, until he heard the slow deliberate clicking sound and Geoffrey’s heart froze in mid-spasm. He stood there easily, lightly, pressing the barrel into the stripe of Geoffrey’s belly where his shirt was drawn up, and smiled into Geoffrey’s blanching face as he held his lips a fraction of an inch above the skin and whispered. “I can make sure they never find you.” The panic in Geoff’s belly exploded and unhinged his knees, his hands on the walls the only thing holding him up. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the bulb had stopped swinging, and he knew then that the rhythmic creaking was the breathy whistle of his own whines. There was a white heat in his belly, pooled from the first in slow smolder but now shuddering and moving downward like lava, and at the sudden chain of recognition, connection, and realization, Geoffrey felt his face burn and his eyes close with shock and shame. But he felt it, and his eyes flashed feral with it, and his voice turned mocking and derisive. “You want to be taught a lesson, eh? You need me to teach you a fucking lesson, that it?” The hissing was almost inside Geoffrey’s ear. “What do you need to learn, boy?” Geoffrey was in way, way over his head (yeah, no shit Shawcross), couldn’t even remember what stupid idea had gotten him here or what vague insanity had made him say what he said, but now he could feel it returning, sweeping over his humiliated brain even as he felt his hips begin to nudge into the pressure holding them down and the skin of his belly rippling around cold steel. He felt lips brush his ear, and cringed at the way he jerked and trembled. The barrel was growing warm between them, and his terror throbbed painfully in his lungs when he felt his head fall back and heard his voice roll out a single word. “Everything...” The hand on the wall next to him closed with the scratch of manicured nails, and through the roaring in his ears Geoffrey heard a low sound that he could only identify as a growl. The pressure on his chest grew unbearable, sharp belt buckle digging at his flesh in a single slow thrust against him. The lips on his ear poured hot breath down the side of his neck. “I ought to turn you round right here and fuck you till your ribs crack.” Geoffrey’s eyes shot open, reality slamming back into him as cold and hard as the gun barrel still jammed in his belly, and he let out a short barking whimper and scrabbled madly at the wall behind him. The attempts at thrashing only made his vision blur whiter and his erection squirm into the thigh crushing against it, and it was no use anyway and only made his situation worse. He couldn’t look away from the pale green fire that flared higher with each of Geoffrey’s desperate movements. They died away all at once, Geoff’s body stilling and softening and black spots dancing around the edges of his sight. He labored to breathe, and his shoulders slumped as his eyes slid closed. “Please,” he whispered, and was too afraid to wonder what he was asking for. The air swirled cold and empty around him when the pressure on his chest abruptly lifted. Geoffrey opened his fluttering eyes, watched the space between their bodies grow larger as the metal gouging his flesh disappeared with a tiny click and the swish of a falling jacket hem. He backed away from Geoffrey slowly, the light in his eyes cooling, the inhuman look fading from his small features and returning them to their usual curled-lip arrogance. He regarded Geoffrey’s disarray, the twisted feet and heaving chest and face drained of all color, and his eyes only threatened to flare again at the sight of Geoff’s sweatshirt still hiked up over the distorted stretch of his jeans. And then he was smoothing his collar, giving Geoffrey a single disgusted chuckle before turning and walking over to the panel, pressing the button casually and not reacting when the car jolted and dropped and the red emergency light flickered off. In seconds, the lift settled and stopped with a thump, and Geoffrey turned his face against the blinding glare when the doors opened onto the lobby. When he squinted up again, he could see nothing of the predator that had pinned him to the wall a moment ago, pressing the first gun Geoffrey had ever seen into his gut and twisting his hip into Geoffrey’s crotch in a far more frightening threat. Instead he saw the same unruffled smirk, the same vaguely bored posture, hands shoved into pockets, head slightly tilted. One hand moved, flicked something small and white onto the floor at Geoffrey’s feet. He looked down at it long enough to register it was a business card. “You’ll follow me.” Geoffrey was unsure whether it was a command or a statement of fact, but when he looked up, the smile that taunted back at him made it clear there was no real difference. Geoff opened his mouth, but he was already gone, and the lift doors did not close behind him. Geoffrey knelt on trembling legs and reached for the address with fingers that had gone numb some time back. His heart hammered in his chest, head whirling and body throbbing with the rush of delayed reaction and his blood humming with adrenaline. And when he looked up at the open square of the doorway, his jaw set firm and he bit his lip and crushed the little card in his sweating palm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ next