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As the sun began to set, and the truck barreled along the almost barren roads and heading back out to the highway...I found myself scratching even more than before. I don't know what it was, but it felt like having a horde of army ants crawling underneath my skin. Back and forth, back and forth, endlessly marching without any known purpose or destination. I was scratching my skin raw on my arms and legs, and tried to physically stop myself from doing it before I broke the skin. Was it mosquitoes? I have been running around in the woods all damn day. Or maybe I was alergic to something I ate or drank. Who knows? But whatever it was, it was driving me crazy.

Sometimes...every so often, I would see a flash of sparkles before my eyes, nd my head would feel light as a feather, almost weightless. Sometimes, for just a moment, my ears would pop, and ring with a high pitched whine that would deafen me for a second, and then magnify every sound around me so loud that it would practically inspire an instant migrane headache. And then...the fever would return. It would heat me up to the point of squirming in discomfort, and then settle, only to heat up again a few moments later. My body just felt so awkward the way it was. My clothes felt like such a burden. The fibers of the material was like sandpaper against my naked flesh, synthetic rags tying me up, keeping me from being free. If I thought that I could get away with stripping down naked in the back of that truck and not looking 'weird', I would have. It was a strange sensation, having my clothes feel so wrong on my body like that.

Cyrus nearly spun us all out into a nearby ditch as he screeched his way out onto the highway's paved surface, which almost made Kriegar drop his bottle of liquor. A rare event, I'm sure. Everyone held on for dear life, and I felt my stomach drop as the truck swiveled back to a forward motion. The music blasted even louder than before, and I peered back over my shoulder to see if Cyrus was as pissed off as his driving would lead the rest of us to believe that he would. Dexter was clenched tightly to my waist, his legs flailing limply in the back of the truck, and the twins had their hair blowing backwards in an almost straight line. The only one who held on with little to no effort, hardly affected by our speed at all, was John Boy...who remained calmly perched on the side. He leaned to and fro every now and then, but he didn't seem even remotely concerned with the idea of him being thrown overboard and tasting gravel as he rolled to a stop.

I craned my neck back and looked back through the window behind the front seat, trying to see what was going on up there. And Cyrus' eyes met mine for a quick moment in the rearview mirror. It was like he knew. He ALWAYS knew. And with just a few seconds of contact, I felt the last remaining scratches on my back flare up with a vengence! I literally felt as though actual sparks and flames were shooting out of my back, causing my old wound to bleed slightly. I could feel the wetness on my shirt. That's when he smiled wickedly to himself, and gnashed his teeth as he stomped on the gas pedal HARD and swerved violently to the side!

I was instantly thrown off of the tire, carrying Dexter's devoted embrace with me! I could feel the truck reaching it's maximum speed, the wheels shaking and the body of it shaking from the strain as the motor fought to keep up with Cyrus' demands on it. Were we going 80 miles an hour? Maybe 100? Maybe even faster! The landscape whipped by us so fast that I could hardly focus on anything before it passed us by and disappeared over the last dip in the road. I struggled to get up on my hands and knees, and Dexter let me go long enough to curl his frail body up into a tight ball. I saw Kriegar and the twins actually slide down from sitting on the side, to stretching out on the floor of the truck...and I have to admit, I nearly broke out into a full blown panic when I saw John Boy do the same! They weren't 'scared' so much, but they knew a dangerous situation when they saw one. I raised my head up a little bit, the wind slamming into us so hard that I could hardly breathe, and saw the road rushing up at us at lightning speed! If we hit anything at this speed, it's gonna fucking kill us all!!! I ducked back down, and scooted into a somewhat safe corner, my hands trembling in fear as I prayed that Cyrus didn't roll over and send us flying into the trees! I prayed for him to slow down, prayed for him to calm down, prayed for a fucking highway patrol officer to catch us and FORCE us to stop so I could get out! But as we raced further and further down that empty highway, all I could do was cross my arms over my chest, and prepare for the moment when I might actually have to survive the inevitable deadly wreck that we were heading for.

The truck screeched, and fishtailed, and kicked up dirt and gravel for what seemed like forever, but once we neared town, Cyrus' little game came to a grinding halt, and we coasted into the giant parking lot of the megamart. I was still quaking when the truck actually came to a stop and the engine shut off. I guess he was through terrorizing me now, and he got out of the truck without saying a word. He just left the rest of us there and started walking towards the store, the rest of us following shortly after like the loyal lap dogs that we were. All except for Kristen, who for some reason felt the need to wait out by the truck. I couldn't explain it, but it was like she sensed something around us that caused her to think that we needed our ride to be 'protected'. Odd. Scout quickly caught up to Cyrus with a few hurried steps and took a hold of his hand, but everyone else kinda kept their own natural pace a few steps behind him. As though there were such a thing as a 'safe distance' when it came to Cyrus' anger. I don't know...maybe this was his spoiled way of showing us who's boss. Or maybe...they already knew it, and he just needed to remind me who was in control here.

Sebastian walked beside me and, in a very calm voice, said, "You really ought not to challenge him, Wesley."

"I wasn't challenging him, I just...wanted to help."

"Your first mistake was thinking that Cyrus needed your help. He doesn't."

I pouted a bit, wishing I could take it back. "Sorry. Didn't know I was being such a pain in the ass."

Sebastian smiled at my depressing comment. "Don't worry. You've still got time left to learn your place. But I should warn you...now that you've been fully embraced, taking shots at Father's authority will come with serious consequences. Follow your instincts, and let him guide you. Don't fight it. You have to put total faith in him, and he will lead you in the right direction, every time." He turned his head to see Dexter randomly turning a cartwheel in the middle of the parking lot for no reason whatsoever. Then he added, "Do yourself a favor...distance yourself from Dex. We can't have his loyalties in question. Do you understand?" I didn't, not fully, but I got the idea. I nodded my head, and looked back to see that John Boy was walking a straight line that divided me and Dex entirely. As though it had become his job to subtley keep us apart. There was so much to learn all of the sudden, so much to absorb. Friendships formed with rules and regulations, why am I even a part of this? It's not like me at all. But the more I tried to think about it, the foggier my thoughts seemed to get. It was so much easier to just fall in line. So much more comfortable to drift along with the energies they were feeding me, and play my part. It got to the point where doing otherwise seemed ridiculous.

We followed Cyrus in through the automatic doors and were greeted with the blast of the megamart's air conditioning. A bit chilly at first, but you got used to it quick. We all gathered at the front of the store, and John Boy and Cyrus took one direction while the rest of us were able to relax our position. Dexter started to take a few steps in my direction when Cyrus beckoned him from further away. "Dex...come." And Dex didn't hesitate to follow. Not for a second. I guess those chains were for him, might as well keep him nearby. Once our leader was out of sight, the others began to wander off on their own. I guess this was our version of 'recess'. Not one to be left standing there alone like a dork, I figured that I'd go off and kill some time too. Might as well get out of this mental haze and try to think clearly for a few minutes.

I wandered around the store for a bit by myself, just like last time. Except....the vibe was different than it was before. Where, during the first time we visited this place together, I felt a loosening on the leash, a bit of liberation from Cyrus' rule...this time I felt 'deficient' somehow. As though my energy was lacking the potency that it had when we were all together. I tried not to let it bother me though. It's all in my head, I'm sure. Besides, I've always been a loner. I don't need their company to feel safe. I'm safe on my own.

I took some time to look at some of the magazines and flipped through a few of the video game booklets, when I caught the familiar scent of booze on someone's breath from across the room. At first I thought it was a delayed reaction from what I had been drinking myself in the back of the truck, but that wasn't it. This was coming from elsewhere. And when I turned and peeked around the corner, I caught a glimpse of Father Mackenzie in the liquor department, buying himself another bottle or two to last him the weekend.

My first instinct was to hide. I couldn't let him see me! I'm sure that my father would have gone past angrily waiting for me to come home and would have sent out a search party by now. If Father Mackenzie sees me, he'll do his best to drag me back to camp, and to a punishment worse than death. I'll be lucky if my father doesn't actually skin me alive for running out on the family the way I did! So I ducked back behind the shelves and tried to avoid making myself visible. Father Mackenzie paid for his liquor, picked up a few cigars at he checkout counter, and then carried his black-bagged items towards the front door to go home and have himself a little private party for the evening.

I'm glad that I avoided geting caught, but I have to admit...something about the whole situation made me think about home. It returned me to thoughts of consequences and punishments and all of the things that Cyrus was trying so hard to make me forget. It made me think about how much harder it's gonna be to go back home the longer I stay out here having 'fun'. I felt a sensation of shame crawl up over my shoulders, and wondered if maybe....just maybe...I was making a bigger mistake than I had originally intended to.

I sulked my way back to the magazine rack, thinking that I might be able to get Cyrus to take me home if I just stopped fooling around and put my foot down about it. What was he gonna say? No? Was he gonna beat me up? Kill me and bury me in the backyard? I doubt it. I hated to even let the thought cross my mind, but I missed my family. I missed Nick's annoying little habits, I missed my mom's home cooked breakfast, and I even missed my dad's frustrating little comments and criticisms. Something about it had become a part of my life. And I needed that. I was just....'less' without it.

I stepped back from the shelf and wasn't really looking where I was going when I accidently bumped into someone. "Oh....shit, I'm sorry." I said.

"It's no problem." It was a guy that looked like he was maybe in his mid to late 20's, with short brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a backwards cap, jeans and a white t-shirt...kinda cute, if I do say so myself. The thing is, I started to walk away from him when I...suddenly was intrigued by his scent. It wasn't a 'cologne' or an 'aftershave' or anything...it was much more organic than that. It was sweet, like flowers in bloom, and it tingled inside of my nostrils as I inhaled it. I stopped walking, and turned around. He lifted his head bashfully and our eyes connected briefly, and then he turned away, reaching for a magazine on the shelf. The scent got stronger right after the eye contact, and something about it excited me. My curiousity kept me from leaving. The intoxicating fragrance was so alluring to me. I was almost 'hungry' for it. So I stepped closer to him, and saw him look up again, this time, a gentle smile crossing his lips before trying to void my eyes with his magazine of choice.

He was hiding from me. I could tell. I tilted my head slightly to the side, and took a few steps closer, eventually picking up a magazine of my own as I stood right next to him. The aroma seemed to increase, and I could detect a little thumping in his chest, as his heartbeat jumped in my presence. I really couldn't explain it, but...I just knew that this older guy was attracted to me. I never would have pegged him for a homosexual, there was nothing 'gay' about him...not in appearance, anyway. But...as that smell enchanted me more and more with each passing second, I could just tell that I not only aroused him, but I made him nervous by being so close.

I opened my magazine and pretended to look through it, all the while studying the feelings of the fit young man standing beside me. Just a whiff was enough to make me horny. It wasn't so much that I wanted him that badly, but something about teasing more of that scent out of him was a mindblowing experience. I was almost drunk off of the sensation, and I wanted more. My attitudes seemed to suddenly settle into this seductive other state of mind, and I turned to give him a slightly flirtatious smile.

He smiled back, and I saw a blush come to his cheeks. There it was! The aroma increased greatly, and I knew that my grin had directly affected him. That only made the game that much more exciting. I looked back at my magazine, attempting to appear as though I didn't notice what I was doing to him. But..my instincts were forcing me to ask myself one simple question.....WHY? Why am I pretending? Why am I playing games? I know he likes me. I know he wants a taste. And just being able to tempt his senses like that was seriously causing me to smile. Maybe it was an evolutionary jump in my confidence, or maybe it was just some of Cyrus' lessons about letting go that did it to me, but my sense of smell let me know immediately that I could actually have this man if I wanted to. Right now. I could walk right up to him and grab a handful of his crotch, and he wouldn't turn me down. He'd be trembling with lust by the time we got out to the parking lot. He would cum quick at the thought of having my smooth young body stretched over him, his hands caressing the globes of my ass, his mouth full of my tongue. I could be the fantasy he would be re-living over and over again for the rest of his life. The secret story of that 'one time' when he had the best sex of his life with the hottest underage boy that he had ever seen. I could be that boy for him. I could be that story. Imagine the power that I weild right now. Over his emotions, over his common sense, over his sexuality. My very presence was stronger than his restraints. Stronger than the laws that bind him. Stronger than society's eye who judges him. I could get him to abandon everything that he knew, everything that he pretended to be for the sake of the people around him...and I could have complete and total control over him. And all it would take from me....would be a smile.

I closed the magazine I was looking at, and put it back on the shelf, reaching for one that almost made me come into contact with him. He looked up and smiled again, his blush getting deeper as I sensed his arousal reaching an even higher level. "Excuse me...." I whispered. You know, I was always so shy in any situation that involved me actually making a 'move' on somebody else. But this time, I had nothing to lose. And the fog that hovered over my usual thoughts of doubt and fear of rejection seemed to push me forward. Just to see what my end result would be. Teasing that honey sweetened fragrance was such a rush. It enticed me to go futher. To cross that line between knowledge and action. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to give in. Just feeling him hold back was like being sexually frustrated beyond belief. I wanted him to talk to me. To touch me. The feeling swept over me so fast, that I was almost driven to touch myself just to keep fom going mad.

I looked over the older guy's shoulder to the end of the aisle, and I saw Razor standing there, a tilted grin on his pretty face. I then looked to the other end of the aisle, to see Shank predictably standing at the other end...same smile, same wicked look in his eye. They both knew what I was up to. They could probably sense it even better than I could. But something in their sinister gaze encouraged me to go through with it. And, for some odd reason that I can't explain, I felt a mischevious little smirk cross my lips as well. It felt....NAUGHTY! But something about that got my adrenaline pumping. It was a game. A predatory hunt for this man's affections and chasing his emotions until I had them cornered in a place where no more lies could be told. No more masks could exist. I could 'claim' him for my own. And he was powerless to stop me.

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• loved it -- Nightstalker, 00:08:11 10/10/07 Wed

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• Wow --- left me speechless -- dar, 10:40:30 10/10/07 Wed