The Hunt

(Friday Afternoon, June 5th)

After Ben messes the same part up again, he presses all his fingers down onto the piano and leans his forehead on the music rack. "You're going to make a fool of yourself tomorrow."

Ben's mouth gapes, as he looks at him, "Father."

"What have you been doing all week?" his eyebrows furrow. "Making out with that fairy?" No. He was eating. He literally ate the entire week. Ben lowers his eyes. He's wasted so much time. "Well?" his father shouts, and Ben's attention is brought back to him. "What did you do this whole time?" Ben's mouth opens, but he fails to answer. His father strides forward, and Ben stands from the bench. "Is this what you want, to humiliate your mother and me?"

"No," Ben whispers.

"Then why haven't you been practicing?" his father asserts.

When he gets close to the piano, Ben backs around to the other side, "I have been."

"I never see you," his father follows him. "Wherever you were, you weren't here, and now you're making a mockery of this family."

"I was here," Ben insists.

"Don't lie to me," his father yells, and Ben finds himself backed against the wall. "You weren't in your room, in the office, or out back. So, where were you?"

Ben faces him, "You want to know where I was?" before bares his teeth. "I was hunting. I would wake up, walk through the woods, and when I failed to catch anything, I went to the park to think about ripping all their throats out and drinking them dry."

His father bangs him against the wall, "You feral kid. Is that why the police were here the other week, because you were hunting people?"

Ben narrows his eyes, "If only you knew." but they shut when his father's grip on him increases.

"And that blond boy," his father continues. "You hunted him, didn't you?"

Carlos. Ben smirks, "What if I did?" and his father tosses him into the dining room; however, Ben's able to keep to his feet.

"What's your plan, here?" his father accuses. "Are you trying to get me to cancel your birthday party, that if you're off the rails, I will cancel it and you won't have to embarrass yourself in front of everybody?"

"No," Ben evenly states. "I drank from Carlos, because I was hungry and he was there."

His father shakes his head, "What do you expect me to do with this?"

"Simmer over it," Ben raises an eyebrow. "After all, it's not like you're going to tell Mother, are you? I inherited this from you. You don't want her to think you're still the beast."

"Or," his father shouts, "you can fix those scratches that boy put on the floor."

"Scratches?" Ben quietly questions.

"Those," his father points at the chair skid marks.

"But those are nothing," Ben nearly laughs; however, before he knows it, his father grabs him by the neck and puts his face to the floor.

"Does that look like nothing?" he grits his teeth.

Ben catches his breath, as he examines the scratch that's the same length as his eye, "No." He sighs, "It's doesn't."

His father lets go of him, "Then you will do well to fix it."

He exasperates, "And how am I supposed to do that? And finish practicing?"

His father offers a stern look, "How about you skip the hunt today? I'm sure you can find enough time to go to the store and get through your piece at least once, then." He walks off towards the hallway, muttering, "Stupid kid." before he notices the girl and shakes his head as he walks past.

Mal steps into the dining room and notices him sitting on the floor, "Ben?"

His jaw drops in fear, "Mal?"

She steps forward, "Are you okay?"

He eyes down, "How much did you hear?"

Mal's quiet for a moment, "I don't speak French."

"Oh," he almost smiles.

She holds up her phone and offers a sad look, before he sees the translator and meets her green eyes, "I never hurt anyone. You need to know that."

"I know," she reassures.

"It's just," he glances down. "The hunger is easier if… if I think about eating."

Mal takes his hand, "Ben. It's fine. I know it's hard for you."

"What's hard," he looks from their hands to her, "is this." The tears intrude his eyes, "I'm not even hungry right now, but I feel like if I eat, it will make everything better." He moves a hand over her curly hair, "I want to hold you, take in your smell, and…"

"Drink," Mal finishes.

"I just feel like it will make everything better," he admits again.

"Ben," Mal places her hand on his shoulder, and she pauses as his eyes move to it. "Your father just hurt you. You're sad and you're hurt, but drinking from me isn't going to fix it."

His eyes shift, "I feel like it would."

"Ben," Mal hesitates, "you know I cut, but I don't feel like doing that right now."

"And I don't want you to," he hurries. "It's just…" He shakes his head, "I'm tired. I'm really just tired."

Mal hugs him, "It's okay." but then he sucks on her neck. She hesitates, feeling the teeth test her skin, and she shuts her eyes, "Ben. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to let go of you." The teeth let go; however, the sucking continues, and she feels a hand move under her shirt to her hip. Mal places hers over it and whispers in his ear, "How about we go somewhere more private?"

He's finally done it. It took six hours, but he's finally made it through each section without a mistake. Now, all he has to do is play the entire piece without failing. Ben starts again, but then someone laughs, "Still doing dead music?"

Ben's mouth gapes, as he turns to him, "Chad?" His grin is the most foolish thing he's seen. "I told you not to come."

"Well, clearly that witch took you hostage," he jokes, before he walks over to him and leans on the piano's black surface, "so I'm here to rescue you."

Ben narrows his eyes, but he can't help but smile, "How charming."

"So," Chad continues, "I'm taking you from your enslavement." He takes Ben's hand, and when he pulls, Ben looks off as he stands to his feet. "And you can thank me with dinner and a movie."

"Chad," Ben begins.

"Or," Chad places one hand on his shoulder, before he whispers into his ear, "we could start with dessert. I'll let you win again."

"God," Ben lets out a breath. How is this happening? Chad's scent and the thought of his blood is actually getting him hard. He places his hands on Chad's arms and moves him back, "We can't do this again."

Chad huffs, letting go of Ben and pushing back his curly bangs, "I mean, yeah. I know that." He gives a look, "But why, again?"

"Mal didn't like it," he informs.

"You told Mal?" Chad disbelieves.

"And she knows about the blood thing too," Ben explains. "She can accept that I lost myself in that moment, but she's not going to forgive me if I do it all over again." Chad keeps his eyes from him, and Ben takes a breath, "Say something."

Chad shakes his head, stepping back, "There's nothing to say. I just saw you were all lonely and depressed, and I thought we could have a fun time." He raises his eyebrows, "And now you're turning something as simple as a movie down?"

He shuts his eyes, "Chad."

"No," he interrupts. "It's fine. I'll just have to go to Paradise to have some fun, and while I'm having so much sex with so many girls— they do threesomes, you know— you will be here, twiddling your thumbs and stressing over some dead guy."

After he marches off, Ben steps forward, "Chad. Wait." He stops but doesn't turn around. "I…" He wets his lips, "I might like a movie."

"Well, maybe I don't," Chad manages, before he hurries down the stairs and heads out the door. How could Ben do this? Mal. That's how. Chad takes the prescription from his pocket and slides out a few pills. He lost God, he lost Audrey, and now he's lost Ben. This is the only thing he has left.