After His Death
Collins’ POV Nuel had warned me, very sternly, to stay clear off Charles, but I was never one to listen. He had found out about my lie, that I was never Twenty-one, that I was still a child, he found out, and he ended our relationship, the one that we had while having full knowledge of who we were both in the church. I had found him attractive; father Charles. Gosh, he was attractive. A fine piece of a man that was potentially waisting in the priestly vocation, and when he showed signs of feeling the same way for me, I jumped at the opportunity and became his sugar boy. I had nothing to loose. Nuel had dumped me again and I was just so sex starved. He wasn't as good in bed as Nuel, but his performance was good, good enough to make me cum, and his beauty compensated for any other area that was lacking. But to my wildest imagination, there he laid, on the floor, in his room, drenched in the pool of his own blood. I screamed at the top of my voice, so much that the house almost collapsed. I was pretty sure that the scream could've eventually woken up the dead. My legs felt weak instantly, unable to hold the weight of my body. They both wobbled and made way for me to rest my weight on the floor. I screamed again, noticing how horrifying the scene looked from up close, and I quickly crawled backwards while still screaming. The door knob clicked fastly and the door swung open with full force. “ What is it?” Patrick asked, breathing hastily. It was obvious that he had ran upstairs on hearing the urgency and horror in my voice. His eyes were full of questions and his hands were extended in that inquisitive gesture, but as he looked upon the scene before me, he fell into the trance that I did. “ Santa Maria!” He screamed, taking a few steps back as he covered his mouth his hand. The blood on the floor was congealed, and it encircled him in a perfect 360° circle, creating an image that looked so much like “ The Vitru Man” by Da Vinci. His head was smashed so hard to the wall; the blood stains on the wall was a proof of that, and by the look of things it seemed like it was further smashed on the floor, making his brains to pop out of the skull, looking like minced meat. His eyes were still open, staring interestingly and with no focus at all at a corner in the room. I felt nauseous and afraid that I might vomit last night's dinner of pasta and sauce. He had served me that sauce last night, and had made fun of the fact that the sauce was splattered on my face, even calling me a sauce boy, but right now he was the one looking like the actual sauce. Patrick rushed out of the room, and I could hear him rushing down the stairs. I couldn't move anymore. Not with what I was seeing. I pulled myself to a corner and bit my lower lip in an effort not to scream further. I prayed to God that it might be a dream, more than I had ever prayed in my life, but it seemed that the dream was taking longer than expected or rather that God wasn't going to answer, and trust me, even though one of his commandments was to have no other god, I cried out to other gods. I pleaded with every Greek god that I knew; Zeus, Odin, Vera, Venus. I pleaded with the Egyptian gods; Shiva, Cata, Paro. Hell, I even pleaded with some African gods; the famous Mami water, the Obanje, all of them, pleading that they may help me wake from my horrific slumber, but alas, none was heeding to my prayers. I didn't know how long it took, but I heard sirens from afar, and very shortly I could hear them within the premises, with heavy, plenty foot steps treading the staircase, rushing upstairs. Patrick must've called the rescue team. The door barged open and someone ran in, followed immediately by two other personnels. The first person rushed to the body and flipped it on his back, feeling the side of his neck with two fingers. As he was on with that, a fourth and fifth person walked in - the rescue team brought company; the cops. The one who was checking for whatever it was on Charles' neck looked up at the others with disappointment in his eyes and shook his head. It was confirmed. Charles was dead. I screamed again, gathering the attention of everyone in the room, unintentionally forcing them to notice me since they had been so interested in the body on the floor. “ Hey, hey, calm down”, one of the rescue team members tried to get me to keep calm but that wasn't working, rather, it fueled my screaming strength. I couldn't tell why I was screaming, but I didn't stop. I already knew he was dead even before the paramedics rushed in; I mean, who the hell would see a ketchup brain and still think that the owner would be alive? Apart from the stupid paramedic who had probably tried to show off by pretending to check his pulse. “ Hey, calm down!” He screamed again and came closer to me, trying to get hold of me, but I immediately stood up and made to push him away but he held me, and my gosh he was strong. “ Get the sedative, he's having a chronic panic attack”, he shouted at the other paramedic as I continued screaming, probably destroying their ear drums, and just seconds later, I felt a tingling sensation at the back of my neck. I instantly felt dizzy, as if I was being forced to carry a car, and slowly, I fell to the ground, and was lucky enough to have been caught by someone before, if not, I would've fallen face front to the ground, and probably end up with a broken nose. I was slowly drifting off to sleep as I was carried on something that seemed like a plank, and just before I could close my eyes, I spotted the wrapped up body of Charles following just after me. Nuel had warned me, and now he had killed Charles. Dearest gentle reader, thank you so much for choosing to read this autobiography of mine. I assure you, none of the events in this book are fictional. Some characters were fictional, yes, but asides that every other thing is completely true. And, I decided to spice things up a little bit. I took us to the future just so that you wouldn't get too bored with the storyline. So please, continue reading, and remember to add the book to your library. I will also try my possible best to upload at least one chapter everyday until I finish revealing to the world what I had to go through.Before his death. Collins' POV “ So what will you do if you ever catch me with another man?” I asked Nuel as I sat on his dick, riding him like a motorcycle. His two hands held my butt cheeks, helping me bounce up and down up on his dick. “ That man will have to die by my hand”, he said in the middle of his ecstasy, tightening his butt, making pretty sure that he was getting to his climax. I laughed a little, throwing my head back for a while as my palm laid on his tummy. I brought my head back, and in a moment of lust and satisfaction, I put my right hand around his neck, as if to strangle him, still rolling and twerking with his dick inside of me. “ Say it again daddy”, I said, locking eyes with him. A mischievous smile grew on his face and he let go of my butt cheeks, breathing hastily as he said, “ he will die by my hand. You are mine and mine alone”, he said, sounding so serious that it made me shudder internally for a second, but all in all, I loved it, and hearing him
Nuel’s POV I laid in bed for a few more minutes after Collins left, still feeling horny. Having sex with him could be compared to taking a walk in paradise, and nothing made me more satisfied than the fact that he was mine, totally mine. I had been the first person to penetrate him, and so far I was the only one, and that gave me immense joy. I was always a preserved person, and I never wanted to share things with people, and that included Collins. At first it was supposed to be a hookup. I was horny and didn't know who could help me satisfy my sexual desires, but then a young stud walked right into my dm, asking if I was interested, after seeing what I had posted online using a fake account. We exchanged pictures and I agreed to meet up with him. He seemed way too young and I didn't want to fall into the temptation of having a sexual relationship with a minor, so I asked him to bring his ID along. After our first encounter, I felt drawn to him, and just like that, I asked
“ What sins do you think that cry out to heaven?” Father Remigius, our Theology 202 lecturer asked us in class one day. “ I'm not asking you to tell me what the Catholic doctrine says about the sins that cry out to heaven or to listen it as dictated in the catechism pamphlet, I'm asking you to tell me what sins you think, what moral vices you think that cry out to heaven”, he said, walking back and forth in front of the classroom, his black cassock flowing in sync with the gentle breeze and making it hard to discern if he was a lecturer or a student since everyone in the classroom also had a black cassock on. There was a dead silence for a while as everyone thought about what to say - we all definitely wanted to impress his sexy grey beards and that was our chance to do so. “ Yes Phillip. What do you think?” He said as Phillip raised his hand. “ Personally, I think that the sun that cries out to heaven more is the sin of oppression. Christ made it evident during his ministry
Collins’ POV “ Take this, all of you, and drink of it, for this is my body which will be given up for you”, Nuel said during the mass, and as he raised the circular wafer; or host as we usually called it, the bell was rang: a way of announcing to the people that Christ was descending upon the gifts in spirit. He placed it back in the altar, covering it with a purificator before genuflecting before it. “ And on the night he was betrayed”, he continued as I stared at him, wondering if the man I was staring at was really the Nuel I had sex with just yesterday, “ he took the chalice, and giving thanks, he gave it to his disciples saying, take this, all of you, and drink of it, for this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in remembrance of me”, he said, and as he raised the chalice, the storm outside increased, causing a faint lightning that was followed up by a roaring thunder
“ Why the hell did you not tell me that you were an altar boy?!” Nuel asked as I came up to him at the street side park where he had instructed me to meet him. “ Hold it there bro”, I said, raising my hands to hold him back if he should want to hit me or anything because he was as mad as a cow that had seen a red cow. I didn't even know when I called him ‘ bro'. “ You never asked me if I was, and you didn't even tell me that you were a priest. A priest for crying out loud”, I said, sounding so much like my mom when she had caught my dad cheating on her. “ You didn't ask me too, gosh!”, he exclaimed, putting both of his hands on his head like an African woman who has just received the news of her husband's death. He put his hand over his mouth, breathing hastily, trying to calm himself as I stood there too, doing the same. I could've bet that we were both thinking the same thing - how the hell was this possible? Saying that we were in deep shit was totally an understatemen
“ A reading from a letter to the Hebrews”, the lector said as we moved to the pulpit, while I held a microphone to his mouth, absentmindedly watching him move his lips as he looked at the congregation and back to the lectionary, paying no attention to what he was saying. “ The word of the Lord”, he said in a final tone, signifying that he had finished his reading. “ Thanks be to God”, the congregation replied and my mouth was benevolent enough to also speak along with the congregation. “ Your days shall be filled with gladness, all you who trusts in the Lord”, the lector started the responsorial psalm, maintaining his reading fluency and eye communication, just like that of a news anchor. “ Your days shall be filled with gladness, all you who trusts in the Lord”, the congregation replied. “ He who walks in the path of righteousness, who detests the ways of the wicked, who closes his eyes lest they see evil, who shuts his eyes lest they hear of bloodshed”, the lector continue
“ Hello gay”, Franklin said as a surge of pain flew from my hand to my whole body. How can one get injured in one part of the body but feels it on every part of the body? Someone really had to explain that to me. “ What are you up to in there? Looking for a dick to suck?” He said and laughed at his own statement, together with his two worthless minions; Christian and Zack. I looked at him with pure rage in my eyes as they continued laughing without ceasing, even pointing fingers at me as I caressed my hurt hand, laughing their guts out while calling me weak. I couldn't take it anymore, no longer. I clenched my fists and stepped forward to Franklin, face to face with him. “ What are you gonna do? Huh? Punch me? I bet your punch will be more soft than a pillow, fag”, he said and his crew ‘ oooohed’ what he said, laughing at the top of their voices as more students gathered around. Without thinking twice, I threw my fist in the air, making it land on his left cheek, and his
Education is really a scam. A real scam. Back when I was in highschool I didn't think about it that much, but now I've come to the realization that it is. I mean, how can a science student be learning about laws? What are the art students doing? Some of them would go to law schools, so why aren't they studying all the types of laws? Why should I who wants nothing to do with law be forced to learn about some laws that are sugarcoated as gas laws? You might want to say that gas laws were a science student's thing, but hey, they are laws, laws, and they should be studied by lawyers or aspiring lawyers, not high scholars who want nothing to do with the law. Like mehn, the educational system is fucked real up. “ Charles law states that all things being, the volume of a gas increases as the temperature increases, and decreases as the temperature does. It has a mathematical formula of V1/T1 = V2/T2”, Clementina answered the question that Mr Mayor had thrown at us. She was always
In the beginning, Judaism which begot the Christian faith was a faith that was built on sacred sex. Or at least that was what one author like that was trying to say through his book. I think it was Dan Brown? Yeah, and the book was The Da Vinci Code. In the book, speaking through a fictional Harvard university scholar, he buttressed the fact that sex was a divine act through which men encountered God through the sacred feminine. That the Holy of Holies in the temple built by king Solomon not only housed God, but also his female equal known as Shekinah. He told millions of his readers that men would visit the temple and the priestesses would help them to encounter God through physical contact and bla bla bla. That all sounded stupid when I read it, so so stupid and absurd, but I had cause to doubt myself after what happened between Nuel and I right there in the chapel, in the presence of God. Everything was slow, delicate, sophisticated. He broke the kiss and slowly shut t
Collins' POV It always felt stupid. To die for someone you loved, it always felt stupid to me. Even when Sam Smith released a song called “ somebody to die for”, I felt he was stupid enough to want to die for someone. Why would you want to die for anybody in the name of love? I remember watching this Asian movie: League Of Avengers; I couldn't tell if it was Korean or Chinese, but it seemed somewhere in the middle, just like I couldn't tell if Jumong or Alchemy Of Souls was Korean or Chinese. In the movie, Bi Yao, the female lead, sacrificed herself for Xiao Fan, the male lead, to save him from being killed by the leader of the righteous sect. Yes, Jesus Christ died for us; we were told, but that was different, he is God, and he was doing it to save all mankind, not some cute guy that he loved, and as I there stood on the sanctuary, in the dim darkness caused by the power shortage, and the heavy rainy noise that was accompanied with lightning and thunder, I came to understand J
Nuel's POV “ Father, I heard they would be a storm”, Mrs Athena said, clutching her Bible to her chest in that sense of self righteousness that eluded nothing but pretence. “ Really? I also heard it on the news”, Mrs Jane chipped in, also holding her Bible but not to her chest. Even though she clicked so well with Mrs Athena, she didn't wear her religion as a shield over her real self. “ Wow, what news channel? The daily news?” I asked, trying to get in flow with the conversation. “ Both the daily news and the CNN. They said it will be caused by the longshore drift from the north Atlantic Ocean, and strictly warned that we should expect it in a few days”, Mrs Jane said, laying out the news as if she was the news caster. “ That won't be good”, I said, frowning my face and wondering if I was frowning because of the storm news or because of the two women who had held me in captivity for like thirty minutes. “ I guess it will be good to also let the congregation know about it
“ What's going on here?”, someone's voice broke the fearful silence that had already taken over my soul. “ What are you guys up to?” Coach Mbape asked, his hands resting on his tiny waist. Never have I felt so thankful that someone interrupted something that I was a part of. “ Nothing coach”, Franklin said as he let go of me, changing his voice from the dreadful one I heard few seconds ago to a childlike one - the dude must've had a multiple personality disorder or something. “ Come on, get your tiny legs on the tracks”, he said, moving his hands like a choir master as he motioned for us to move out. He called us ‘ tiny legs’ while his own legs couldn't appropriately carry his potbelly, the one that made him look so much like a pregnant woman. “ Okay coach”, I said and immediately moved away from him, taking quick steps as I headed for the door. I still felt his deadly gaze on my back, and only when I stepped on the tracks was I able to actually breath. “ Set yourselves i
“ You should've seen how engaged they were. They didn't even notice that I was there”, Esther said, her hands moving in gesture as she expressed herself. “ Oh my gosh, wait, really? That really happened?” I asked, excitement flowing through my arteries. “ For sure. Matilda here was busy dancing and drinking herself to stupor, she just didn't know what was going on”. “ Oh please”, Matilda retorted, “ I was basically doing what every normal person would do at a party, unlike someone who was busy being a live CCTV camera”, she rolled her eyes and we all laughed. “ So I'm the CCTV camera?” Esther asked, pointing to herself and still chuckling. “ Do you actually need anyone to tell you that?” I said. “ Wow, okay, okay, no problem”, she said, feigning annoyance. “ Don't worry, you are so good at what you do and we love you for that”, I said, smiling mischievously. “ Yes, and we deeply respect your passion”, Matilda added and we burst out in laughter again, our lungs explod
Our eyes were locked together, hunger and yearning flaming red with all rubiness. The carton of water that was thrown into the air came crashing down beside us, and yet we didn't flinch. We didn't even hear the sound of it falling to the ground, or at least we weren't listening, but it was clear that even if it had fallen on top of us, we will still not flinch, for we were both enchanted, lost in a trance. “ Are you alright”, he asked as he came back to his senses and helped me stand to my feet. “ Yes father. I'm sorry father”, I said, averting my eyes from his. I didn't want him to know that I yearned for him, I didn't want to give him the impression that I still cared, that I still wanted him, and that Ionged for his touch, his kiss, his whole being. “ Okay. That could've been fatal”, he said and walked past me, continuing on his journey to the third floor. “ Tell Patrick to come and clean off the water before someone else falls because of it”, he said to me from the stairc
Collins' POV Mr Bright. The wolf I was talking about, that was Mr Bright. He was the very antonym of his own name. Gloomy, hateful, spiteful; every other thing but bright. I bet his parents had named him Bright, praying and hoping that he will be bright, but alas, their prayers were never answered. “ In differentiating and integrating variable functions of dy/dx, the integer functions or trigonometric functions have to …………..”, he blabbered all along, making integration and differentiation seem more difficult than it actually was. Math itself was already a handful, and with Mr Bright as the teacher, I could only hope to come out with a pass. “ Guess what happened at school today?” Ella said as she gently sat on the sofa, careful enough to not spoil her recently painted nails while her face was covered with a facial mask, making her look so much like a Halloween ghost. “ What happened?” I asked, setting myself to listen to her. Omi and Michael also diverted their attentio
“ I'm sorry father”, the poor boy said, his head bent. “ Sorry for what? I asked a question which obviously needs an answer”, I said, still keeping the smile plastered on my face even though he wasn't looking at me. His checkered shirt and shorts looked good on him, with his hair that was neatly carved and combed. “ Sorry father”, he said again, seeming as if he was about to burst into tears. “ Why don't we take a seat there”, I pointed to the chair at the base of a giant crucifix statue. As we sat, I took a long look at him as we both delved in silence. He looked so much like his mother, so much that it wouldn't be debatable if it was said that his mother spat him out instead of birthing him. “ Andrew, what exactly are you sorry for?” I asked again, as gently as I could, sitting not to close but yet not too far from him. He needed his space and I knew it. “ For everything father. For watching porn, for disappointing my mother, for troubling you with my issue, for wi
Have ever been hit in the groin? Like, punched straight to it that your balls almost cracked open? Do you know that condescending, painful feeling of your lower abdomen being torn to shreds? Contracting and expanding in pain? That was exactly how I felt when my older brother checked my search history on chrome and found searches for “ pictures of naked gay men”. I walked in on him while he was scrolling the searches on my laptop, and almost as if on reflex action, I shut the laptop so hard that I almost broke the screen. But it was too late. He had seen everything, all the cockroaches in my cupboard. He never confronted me; at least not to my face, but each time I looked at him it was obvious to me that he knew, he knew about that side of me that I thought I had safely kept hidden, and trust me, it always made me feel nauseous. And after all these years, in my office, trying to do my job, I am confronted with that same feeling of nausea, feeling lightheaded and sick in