Chapter 4
The Restful Palms Motel, Gotham, two hours later
Brad lay on the bed, more scared than he had ever been before in his life. He had no clue what was happening here.
When they had arrived at the motel, it had been okay. Cory had offered him a drink from the honour bar, and he'd taken the opportunity to try a rum and coke. Not something he'd repeat unless it was all that was on offer, but it was one he'd wanted to try and no one had offered it to him before.
Then Cory had asked him to strip to his underoos (That was the word he'd actually used, a word Brad hadn't heard since he was about five), which he had done, in front of him with the lack of embarrassment that only the knowledge you're doing it for money can create.
Then he'd draped himself on the bed, and allowed Cory to come and look him over closely. For some reason Cory hadn't taken his glasses off, but he was the customer, so Brad didn't ask. Brad felt that Cory was staring into his eyes more than anything else.
At first it had just been the usual "games", or so he though of them to keep himself from thinking about what they entailed. Stroking, fondling, the stuff that made you uncomfortable, but let you console yourself with the fact that it could be worse.
Still, it had almost seemed perfunctory, as if Cory was thinking about something else, simply going through the motions to satisfy Brad's expectations. It was an unnerving experience, and he thought about just backing out and finding another john, but Cory had only paid him half the money up front, and he needed the rest to pay Ma.
Then things were taken out of his hands. From a bag that must have been at the ready since before he even went cruising, Cory had pulled out several lengths of cord and, smiling all the while, had started to tie Brad's hand behind his back. This wasn't that big a deal, it was the sort of thing that people like Cory came to people like Brad for, and the reason he could charge the amount he did.
But then it had changed. Moving with sudden speed, Cory had continued to bind him, looping ropes around his throat, his chest and his arms, then down through his crotch and around his knees and ankles, pulling each loop tight so it hurt, a lot.
Brad had started to protest, but Cory had idly shoved one of Brad's own socks in his mouth so hard it nearly choked him and continued his work without a word.
When he had finished he had thrown Brad down on the bed and then…. Done nothing. Now he was just sitting there, fully dressed. For some reason that was worse, as it implied planning something more than the usual demands.
When Cory spoke next his voice had an odd echo, as if another voice were also speaking exactly the same words at exactly the same time, maybe two other voices.
"So Brad, I did tell you I liked to play on the rough side. Hope this issn't too rough for you?"
At this point Brad would have agreed to almost anything that might get himself out of here in one piece. He shook his head violently.
Leaning forward Cory took the gag out of Brad's mouth, pressing his finger to the boy's lips to indicate he wanted silence for the moment
"Now Brad, I want you to tell me about your dreams."
"My what?"
"Your dreams, I want to know your dreams." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to have said.
Brad felt puzzled, but the fear was still greater. "O-okay. Well…" he paused trying to remember what his dreams had been back before survival took precedence over everything, back from the time when he'd been able to afford dreams. "… I always wanted to be a footballer when I grew up, I was always good at they sai.."
Cory interrupted, looking angry, "No, not THOSE sorts of dreams, I'm not looking for petty, pointless aspirations, I want you to tell me about the dreams you've had, the real dreams, when you're asleep, the ones that stick in your memory. I know that you remember them, bright eyes."
Strangely, Brad thought, he was right - he'd always been able to remember his dreams. He'd had a room-mate once at Ma's who'd always sworn blind she could never recall her dreams, and he'd always thought it a pity. So he started to relate as many of them as he could, whilst Cory lay back on his chair and steepled his fingers, deep in thought.
"There was one where I was walking through a field, but the ground kept sucking at my feet, and when I looked down, I could see that the grass was trying to grow up and under my skin, inside me"
Cort smiled again, and nodded absently. If Brad had been able to think that straight, he might have recognised nostalgia in the man's face.
"And then another time I was being chased by something that was buzzing, and when I looked around to see what it was, it was just like static flying through the air. It wasn't anything, and it wasn't nothing, it was just, like hollowed out snowflakes, with nothing inside. And then I was falling and flying, but I couldn't control which I was being "
Cory snorted at that and Brad heard him mutter - "The place is going to wrack and ruin without him if that's the best they can do."
Not wanting to keep going with that if it annoyed him, Brad dredged up another dream
"And then one time I dreamt I saw the Batman"
Cory suddenly looked up, interested "Did you?"
"Well, I don't think I've never _really_ seen him, maybe a flash of cape some nights, swinging overhead, but I've talked to people who definitely have seen him. Anyway, in my dream I'm sure he was there, it was someone dark in the shadows, someone one not quite human. It was scary, but it was a good kind of scary because I knew that he was there to stop the other things in the shadows getting to me."
An eyebrow lifted above the edge of the sunglasses "Really?"
This continued for another twenty minutes or so, Brad relating everything he could recall from his dream, answering the questions that Cory asked occasionally.
Finally Cory stood and got himself another drink from the honour bar. Making his selection he came across and squatted down next to the bound boy, who suddenly felt even more vulnerable than before.
"Tell me Brad, have _I_ ever been I your dreams?"
Brad felt that fear build inside himself again, why did that question terrify him so much?
"What? No. But why would you. I've never met you before tonight, honest."
"Really? Are you quite sure of that? I 'm not maybe lurking in the corners of your dreams for the past few nights?"
And then Cory took his glasses off, and Brad felt the world spin of kilter. He felt sick and dizzy and was, though he'd have sworn a moment ago it wasn't possible, even more scared.
"You're absolutely sure you haven't seen me?"
Brad didn't say anything, but a couple of dreams he hadn't recalled clearly came back into his thoughts, a dark shape lurking just out of sight, a face with not one, but three smiles, which somehow made sense within the realms of a dream, but had seemed absurd when he was awake. Now he wished that it seemed absurd again.
"Well, just in case you're not looking at things properly, if you don't mind I'd like to take a look for myself." From the same bag the ropes must have been in, he pulled out a hunting knife.
Brad's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to scream, but the older mans hand was now clamped across his mouth, holding his whole head in place without apparent effort. There was nothing he could do to get away, he was too tightly tied to even move.
The knife was moving closer now, looming into his field of vision until it was all that he could see… He'd always hoped to have some profound thought or other when this time eventually came, but frankly all he could think was "ohmygodohmygodohmygod"...
And then Brad knew he must be hallucinating now because he could swear there was someone else in the room, a white skinned girl dressed in black, sitting on the far corner of the bed, shaking her head with a look of sadness on her face.
Then the pain started and everything else became irrelevant……
Some time later the Corinthian leant over Brad's still form and patted him on the cheek, then wiped his hand absently on the sheets to get the blood off.
"Thanks Brad, you know, you really DID manage to show me something I hadn't seen before, and that's rare these days. The city has a protector again, but not like the ones of it's past. A guardian against the shadows, but this time it's someone who is one of the shadows himself? I thought he might be a myth, but it seems he isn't. I think I'm rather glad about that."
When he reached the door the Corinthian turned and spoke aloud. "I know you were worried about having somewhere to stay Brad, but don't worry, the room's paid up until tomorrow. Check out isn't till eleven, and I've left the "Do not Disturb" sign out, so you just take your time, bright eyes."
And with that he departed, humming an Art Garfunkel tune to himself.
The Restful Palms Motel, Gotham, two hours later
Brad lay on the bed, more scared than he had ever been before in his life. He had no clue what was happening here.
When they had arrived at the motel, it had been okay. Cory had offered him a drink from the honour bar, and he'd taken the opportunity to try a rum and coke. Not something he'd repeat unless it was all that was on offer, but it was one he'd wanted to try and no one had offered it to him before.
Then Cory had asked him to strip to his underoos (That was the word he'd actually used, a word Brad hadn't heard since he was about five), which he had done, in front of him with the lack of embarrassment that only the knowledge you're doing it for money can create.
Then he'd draped himself on the bed, and allowed Cory to come and look him over closely. For some reason Cory hadn't taken his glasses off, but he was the customer, so Brad didn't ask. Brad felt that Cory was staring into his eyes more than anything else.
At first it had just been the usual "games", or so he though of them to keep himself from thinking about what they entailed. Stroking, fondling, the stuff that made you uncomfortable, but let you console yourself with the fact that it could be worse.
Still, it had almost seemed perfunctory, as if Cory was thinking about something else, simply going through the motions to satisfy Brad's expectations. It was an unnerving experience, and he thought about just backing out and finding another john, but Cory had only paid him half the money up front, and he needed the rest to pay Ma.
Then things were taken out of his hands. From a bag that must have been at the ready since before he even went cruising, Cory had pulled out several lengths of cord and, smiling all the while, had started to tie Brad's hand behind his back. This wasn't that big a deal, it was the sort of thing that people like Cory came to people like Brad for, and the reason he could charge the amount he did.
But then it had changed. Moving with sudden speed, Cory had continued to bind him, looping ropes around his throat, his chest and his arms, then down through his crotch and around his knees and ankles, pulling each loop tight so it hurt, a lot.
Brad had started to protest, but Cory had idly shoved one of Brad's own socks in his mouth so hard it nearly choked him and continued his work without a word.
When he had finished he had thrown Brad down on the bed and then…. Done nothing. Now he was just sitting there, fully dressed. For some reason that was worse, as it implied planning something more than the usual demands.
When Cory spoke next his voice had an odd echo, as if another voice were also speaking exactly the same words at exactly the same time, maybe two other voices.
"So Brad, I did tell you I liked to play on the rough side. Hope this issn't too rough for you?"
At this point Brad would have agreed to almost anything that might get himself out of here in one piece. He shook his head violently.
Leaning forward Cory took the gag out of Brad's mouth, pressing his finger to the boy's lips to indicate he wanted silence for the moment
"Now Brad, I want you to tell me about your dreams."
"My what?"
"Your dreams, I want to know your dreams." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to have said.
Brad felt puzzled, but the fear was still greater. "O-okay. Well…" he paused trying to remember what his dreams had been back before survival took precedence over everything, back from the time when he'd been able to afford dreams. "… I always wanted to be a footballer when I grew up, I was always good at they sai.."
Cory interrupted, looking angry, "No, not THOSE sorts of dreams, I'm not looking for petty, pointless aspirations, I want you to tell me about the dreams you've had, the real dreams, when you're asleep, the ones that stick in your memory. I know that you remember them, bright eyes."
Strangely, Brad thought, he was right - he'd always been able to remember his dreams. He'd had a room-mate once at Ma's who'd always sworn blind she could never recall her dreams, and he'd always thought it a pity. So he started to relate as many of them as he could, whilst Cory lay back on his chair and steepled his fingers, deep in thought.
"There was one where I was walking through a field, but the ground kept sucking at my feet, and when I looked down, I could see that the grass was trying to grow up and under my skin, inside me"
Cort smiled again, and nodded absently. If Brad had been able to think that straight, he might have recognised nostalgia in the man's face.
"And then another time I was being chased by something that was buzzing, and when I looked around to see what it was, it was just like static flying through the air. It wasn't anything, and it wasn't nothing, it was just, like hollowed out snowflakes, with nothing inside. And then I was falling and flying, but I couldn't control which I was being "
Cory snorted at that and Brad heard him mutter - "The place is going to wrack and ruin without him if that's the best they can do."
Not wanting to keep going with that if it annoyed him, Brad dredged up another dream
"And then one time I dreamt I saw the Batman"
Cory suddenly looked up, interested "Did you?"
"Well, I don't think I've never _really_ seen him, maybe a flash of cape some nights, swinging overhead, but I've talked to people who definitely have seen him. Anyway, in my dream I'm sure he was there, it was someone dark in the shadows, someone one not quite human. It was scary, but it was a good kind of scary because I knew that he was there to stop the other things in the shadows getting to me."
An eyebrow lifted above the edge of the sunglasses "Really?"
This continued for another twenty minutes or so, Brad relating everything he could recall from his dream, answering the questions that Cory asked occasionally.
Finally Cory stood and got himself another drink from the honour bar. Making his selection he came across and squatted down next to the bound boy, who suddenly felt even more vulnerable than before.
"Tell me Brad, have _I_ ever been I your dreams?"
Brad felt that fear build inside himself again, why did that question terrify him so much?
"What? No. But why would you. I've never met you before tonight, honest."
"Really? Are you quite sure of that? I 'm not maybe lurking in the corners of your dreams for the past few nights?"
And then Cory took his glasses off, and Brad felt the world spin of kilter. He felt sick and dizzy and was, though he'd have sworn a moment ago it wasn't possible, even more scared.
"You're absolutely sure you haven't seen me?"
Brad didn't say anything, but a couple of dreams he hadn't recalled clearly came back into his thoughts, a dark shape lurking just out of sight, a face with not one, but three smiles, which somehow made sense within the realms of a dream, but had seemed absurd when he was awake. Now he wished that it seemed absurd again.
"Well, just in case you're not looking at things properly, if you don't mind I'd like to take a look for myself." From the same bag the ropes must have been in, he pulled out a hunting knife.
Brad's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to scream, but the older mans hand was now clamped across his mouth, holding his whole head in place without apparent effort. There was nothing he could do to get away, he was too tightly tied to even move.
The knife was moving closer now, looming into his field of vision until it was all that he could see… He'd always hoped to have some profound thought or other when this time eventually came, but frankly all he could think was "ohmygodohmygodohmygod"...
And then Brad knew he must be hallucinating now because he could swear there was someone else in the room, a white skinned girl dressed in black, sitting on the far corner of the bed, shaking her head with a look of sadness on her face.
Then the pain started and everything else became irrelevant……
Some time later the Corinthian leant over Brad's still form and patted him on the cheek, then wiped his hand absently on the sheets to get the blood off.
"Thanks Brad, you know, you really DID manage to show me something I hadn't seen before, and that's rare these days. The city has a protector again, but not like the ones of it's past. A guardian against the shadows, but this time it's someone who is one of the shadows himself? I thought he might be a myth, but it seems he isn't. I think I'm rather glad about that."
When he reached the door the Corinthian turned and spoke aloud. "I know you were worried about having somewhere to stay Brad, but don't worry, the room's paid up until tomorrow. Check out isn't till eleven, and I've left the "Do not Disturb" sign out, so you just take your time, bright eyes."
And with that he departed, humming an Art Garfunkel tune to himself.