Alfred looked at the directions and then back up at the street signs. He had asked the receptionist at the hotel the way to the nearest library and she had taken pity on him and given him in depth written instructions. He glanced back at the street signs and turned right at the corner. He continued to walk, looking up at the numbers as he passed. In a small town like this, all the buildings looked the same. However, when he reached a large white building, he recognized that this was what he was looking for.
He walked into the library and up to the desk at the front. A teenage girl with a blonde bun was sitting at the reception desk reading a thick book with a title that didn't appear to be in English. She looked up at him and said with a charming smile, "Hello, how can I help you?" Alfred fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the drawings from the asylum. He put them down on the desk and said, "I'm looking for a book that will tell me what these mean." She looked down at the symbols and then up at him again and said, "I'm sorry, these don't mean anything to me."
Another teenager came out of the sorting room behind the reception desk and walked around to the front, saying as he did so, "I'm going to go get lunch, do you want anything?" He stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Alfred's sketches. He said, "Woah, that's some satanic shit." The words struck a chord because Alfred had already suspected something supernatural. It was to the boy that he directed his next question, "Do you know something about these?" The teenager's expression revealed that he felt like he had gotten himself into something he didn't particularly want to, but he answered all the same, "Well, I had this friend who was really into Satanism. He used to be obsessed with these sorts of things. He went to the old haunted asylum every weekend, and it made him…I don't know…different, I guess."
Alfred immediately said, "What do you mean it's haunted?" The girl cut in at this point, "That's just a story, it isn't actually haunted." The other teenager quickly said, "I've been up there at night. It's scary. Things move; you hear things. I heard that three doctors and a whole bunch of orderlies died there when it was an asylum." The blonde girl rolled her eyes, apparently exasperated with both of them. She looked back down at her book and blocked the pair of boys out. Alfred didn't care; all he was interested in was learning what the symbols meant. He spoke, "Where could I find a book with these symbols in it?" The boy responded, "The back corner of the non-fiction section." Alfred quickly thanked the teenager before heading off to find a book.
Words were still spinning in Gilbert's head as he stared at the serving of beef on his plate. He had spent the entire day reading about demons and fallen angels. He wasn't listing to the conversation around the table, he was thinking about Lilith's grudge against humanity, of the exploits of the incubi, and the temptation of Azazel. As someone who had always put faith in science, it felt strange to be so drawn to the stories of religion. He was eating with a kind of mindlessness as he attempted to sort all the information.
But, his attention was finally brought back to the present by Antonio's voice, "Gilbert, what is your trick with Ivan?" The albino was caught off guard, so he said rather shortly, "I don't have a trick." The Spaniard spoke in a casual voice as he says, "Surely you must. The orderlies tell me that he is impossible to handle most of the time, but after he has sessions with you he is calm. There must be something you do." Gilbert was mystified as to the reason for Ivan's change of mood. The only explanation he could think of was that Ivan was transferring the feeling to him, because Gilbert always came out of the sessions more agitated than he went into them. Lovino intoned with a measure of cynicism, "Maybe he recognizes a kindred spirit." The Spaniard glared at him, but Lovino seemed completely unaffected. Gilbert wondered what that could possibly be about.
Antonio continued to speak and there was almost a purr of affection in his voice, "You seem to have a way of taming him." Gilbert was about to speak when there was an outburst on the other side of the table. Lovino spoke loudly, standing up as he did so, "You just want him to tame you!" The spike of tension in the room left Gilbert speechless. Antonio didn't stand up, instead he just said, "Lovi, you need to calm down." This seemed to be precisely the wrong thing to say. Lovino's eyes started to glisten with angry tears. He yelled, losing all self-control, "Do you think I'm a fool? I will not sit here and watch you make love to someone else! I don't know what I ever saw in you!" With that, he turned and stormed out of the room. His twin stood up and rushed after him, leaving Gilbert and Antonio sitting alone at the table.
The albino turned to the other and said, still surprised by the turn of events, "Are you going to go after him?" Antonio sighed and pushed away his plate. It looked like he hadn't eaten anything. He finally answered the question, "There's no point. He's upset and there is nothing I can do. When he calms down, I will talk to him." The answer seemed to show an indifference that bordered on callousness. Gilbert found himself feeling increasingly less comfortable with the situation. He hadn't intended to disrupt a relationship like this. He stood up, saying as he did so, "This isn't right, Antonio." He was stopped by the Spaniard reaching out and grabbing his wrist, "Don't go, Gilbert. I don't want to be alone tonight." His eyes were full of a shining affection that seemed completely unwarranted.
However, something in the back of Gilbert's mind whispered to him that he could take this eager man and break him. It was an unbidden thought, but one he couldn't push away all the same. He could use Antonio to get pleasure for one night, and then he could deal with the emotional aftermath later. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. There was even something powerful in the thought. Antonio slowly stood up because the albino had stopped attempting to pull away. As soon as he was standing, Gilbert immediately leaned forward and kissed Antonio fully on the lips. The other reacted instantly and reciprocated the kiss.
The Spaniard's hands immediately went to the buttons of Gilbert's shirt. Within minutes, he had the buttons undone and was pulling the fabric down, so that the albino's white shoulders were revealed. Antonio started to work the fabric farther down off of Gilbert's upper arms. Their lips broke apart for a second and Antonio glanced down. He looked back at Gilbert with a teasing smile and said, "What is this from?" He trailed a single finger over the blood type tattoo on Gilbert's arm. Gilbert immediately snapped to his senses. He couldn't let anyone see that, not with what it meant about him. He immediately recoiled; taking a couple steps back and pulling his shirt back up onto his shoulders at the same time. He spoke, trying to not make it obvious why he was so flustered, "I'm just not attracted to you. Don't follow me when I leave."
He turned and left, hoping that Antonio took his hint and stayed behind. But, dread started to grow as he got closer to his room. It was comforting to be free of the danger of being revealed to Antonio, but he knew he was walking into another nightmare. The choices seemed to be either giving up his secret or falling into pure terror. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. He needed something other than a night alone, those had been painful, both physically and mentally. The smart thing to do, psychologically, would be to seek out someone to talk to. But, that was impossible because he was hiding his past from everyone. Then it occurred to him: there was one person who knew about his past.
He shook his head to try and dispel the thought. Going to Ivan was, of course, out of the question, but the thought of the peace the man's touch had brought him was too tempting. Only one more minute of that calm would be enough to dispel all of this. He slowly released the door handle, the decision already made. He didn't bother to knock on Ivan's door when he reached it; he simply inserted his skeleton key and opened the door.
Ivan was sitting on a chair next to the barred window, the light of the moon spilling over him. No other light was lit in the entire room. The silver light gave everything an almost otherworldly glow. Even the simple furnishings of a patient's cell appeared to be grand and giant in this light. Gilbert felt like he was intruding on a secret kingdom; even Ivan seemed to have a glowing crown-like halo. The man turned his face away from the window and toward Gilbert. A smile broke across his face, "Isn't it a little late for a visit, my dear?"
Gilbert tried to form an eloquent response, but only managed, "I need to talk to you." He turned to close the door behind him and found it already closed. When he turned back towards Ivan, the other had already apparently taken several very quick steps because he was now right in front of Gilbert. The albino attempted to make space between them, but Ivan's hand on his face stopped him. As before, the touch sent a warm glow through him, which seemed to freeze all his muscles. Ivan spoke, a smug smile on his face, "I already know why you're here." He slid his hand slowly under Gilbert's jaw, saying as he did so, "You're here because you've realized that I'm right. None of them will ever be able to understand you the way I can. Around them, you have to hide, but not with me."
Gilbert was actually able to respond, unlike in his dreams, "I'm walking on pins and needles around everyone." He was trying not to look into Ivan's eyes, lest he fall into them again. But, the other used his hand to tip Gilbert's head up so their eyes met; only then did he speak again, "Everyone but me, right?" The albino felt the single word slip out, "Yes." Ivan smirk widened and he leaned forward, putting one hand on Gilbert's waist. The albino was far too comfortable to try to resist or protest. If he was honest with himself, he had wanted this since he had realized that his Soviet lover had a doppelganger.
He felt himself being pulled against Ivan's body and, without thinking, put both of his hands on the other's broad shoulders. Ivan brought his face even closer to Gilbert's and said, softly, "Are you yielding to me?" Gilbert's eyes were half-lidded, but he was able to look up enough to say, "Yes. I don't want Antonio. I want you." The other leaned forward and nipped the albino's ear, "Well, if that's what the doctor orders, I will comply." He started to kiss down the white neck with feather-light touches that slowly intensified as he moved down. Gilbert felt as though he had slipped into a trance. His self-control was slipping away quickly, but it didn't matter. His body had gone from pleasantly warm, to burning hot. He felt like there was fire racing through his veins. His mouth was open as tiny whines and moans spilled freely from it. He stretched his neck to make it more available to Ivan's skillful caresses. Gilbert's eyes fluttered closed and his vision went black. In that blackness, all he felt was overwhelming pleasure.
When he opened his eyes again, he felt something beneath his back. He realized that he had been moved to the bed and he was now spread-eagled on it. His clothing was also completely gone, although he had no memory of having taken it off. But nothing mattered but Ivan, who was right on top of him. The other whispered in Gilbert's ear, "I will punish Antonio for trying to lay hands on you. But-" He ran both his hands down the very inside of the albino's thighs. The area felt hypersensitive and the touch sent jolts of pure pleasure through the albino's body. His back arched off the bed. The groan was loud enough that Gilbert for a very fleeting moment wondered how thick the door of this room was. But that was immediately swept away by Ivan's soft voice in his ear, continuing to talk, "-you don't need to be punished. You came to me, gave yourself to me."
His voice slipped into a possessive whisper, "I have you now, just like I wanted." Gilbert wanted to respond, but all he could manage was breathy moans. This was only intensified when Ivan moved his mouth to Gilbert's chest and started to carefully tease one of the nipples with his tongue. The albino's body arched what seemed to be impossibly far off the bed. The moans were impossible to stifle; every move Ivan made seemed to unleash them again. Ivan leaned back to put both his hands on Gilbert's hips.
The albino looked up at Ivan in his daze. The silvery moonlight made Ivan look impossibly pale, even shining. The muscles of the other's exposed chest arms looked like they belonged to a piece of art, not something as flawed as a human. But, there was something strange. Gilbert could have sworn he saw black shapes right behind the other's back. He opened his eyes all the way and the shapes solidified into handsome black feathery wings. Had he slipped into a dream when he had blacked out? These things did not belong to the rational world.
Ivan noticed that Gilbert was looking and without any hesitation, slammed himself into the albino. Without any proper preparation, this should have hurt, but instead it felt amazingly good. It was like Ivan had managed to hit his prostate on the first attempt. He screamed in ecstasy, his throat now sore from being so vocal. Ivan leaned over him, now so close that their foreheads were touching. Gilbert could no longer see anything but the fire in the other's impossibly deep eyes. The albino's hands dug into the flesh of the other's back and he felt his hand brush against something feathery.
Ivan started to thrust into the man beneath him slowly at first. Each of the thrusts was perfectly on target and made Gilbert arch and moan shamelessly. Each reaction in turn made Ivan speed up. The pounding reached a fever pitch within minutes. It didn't take long before Gilbert felt a familiar tightening in his stomach. He wrapped one hand tightly around the back of Ivan's head and said hoarsely, "Kiss me." He wanted to feel Ivan's lips against his own; their tongues tangled together. He needed to be thoroughly owned and the treatment so far felt incomplete.
The other's eyes filled with uncertainty and he responded, "No, not yet." Gilbert didn't have time to even consider the response because he was pushed over the edge by one more well placed thrust. He came with one more hoarse scream. As soon as the height of the orgasm died, his vision again faded to black and he faded into unconsciousness.
Gilbert woke up feeling, for the first time in days, very rested. He sleepily opened his eyes to find that he wasn't in his own room. The experience of the nigh before had apparently been, in some parts, real because Gilbert was lying in a patient's bed in a room that he was certain was Ivan's. He looked around for the man he had spent the night with, only to find that he was alone. It was impossible that Ivan could have snuck out without him noticing, but it was the only logical explanation for why the man wasn't here.
Gilbert slowly sat up. His mind was still reeling from the night before. It was luridly unprofessional for him to lose his self-control like this. Sleeping with his own patient was completely unacceptable behavior, and yet he could not bring himself to regret it. The sensation was better than almost anything he had ever felt, with the exception of the night he had spent with the Soviet officer. As he looked around, he noticed a pile of clothing, immaculately folded at the end of the bed. Slowly, Gilbert pulled himself out of bed and walked over to the clothing. He got dressed slowly while he wondered what time it was. It was very possible he had missed breakfast, considering that he had slept soundly for the first time in days.
Only when he was completely dressed, did he notice something else. There was a note sitting on the pillow Gilbert had not been occupying. He walked over to it and opened it curiously. The handwriting was the same as the note that had been left on Gilbert's bed a couple nights ago. It said, "I said there was to be punishment. Dues will now be paid." He had no doubts that the note was referring to Antonio. Gilbert's heart sank as he realized what the words really meant. He could not say whom he felt more scared for. Antonio was his employer and innocent. But, Ivan was now his lover and Gilbert felt the need to protect him. Either way, he needed to stop this act of revenge.
He turned and ran out of the room, only thinking enough to grab his key on the way out. He turned blindly and ran out onto the open space at the top of the main flight of stairs. Below, standing in the middle of the floor were Lovino and Antonio. They seemed to be having a fairly heated discussion about what had happened the night before. Gilbert stopped for a moment and sighed. He had apparently gotten worked up about nothing. Antonio was right there and perfectly fine. He started to laugh slightly at his own paranoia and stupidity.
But, as he looked down again, he noticed someone standing against the far wall, her blonde hair carefully tied with a blue ribbon. Gilbert saw a flash of silver as Natalia pulled a kitchen knife from her sleeve, where she must have been hiding it. Suddenly, it was all revealed in agonizing clarity. From this height, even if Gilbert yelled there was no guarantee that either of them would hear him over their own conversation. So, he sprinted to the stairs and tried to run down them in time to make a difference. But, he saw the whole thing unfold with a sick feeling of helplessness in his gut.
Natalia lunged with the knife towards Antonio's back, intent on hitting something vital enough to kill him. Lovino saw the glint of the knife over Antonio's shoulder. He grabbed Antonio by both shoulders and threw him to the ground, out of the path of the knife. The blade embedded itself up to the hilt in Lovino's chest. From the distance he was at, Gilbert couldn't be sure, but he was fairly certain the blade had struck the man in the heart.
The brunette fell to the floor, completely limp. Dark red blood pooled around the body, pouring out at an alarming rate. It stained the wooden floor beneath it. Antonio didn't seem to see the blood as he took the body in his arms. Lovino reached up, as if about to touch the Spaniard's face, but he was too weak and was unable to reach all the way. The arm fell to his side and all of the tension went out of his muscles. It didn't take thorough examination to see that the boy was dead. A strangled sob came from Antonio as he made this realization. The Spaniard's heartbroken sobs and Natalia struggling against the orderlies that had restrained her were the only sounds that echoed off the walls of the asylum.
