Number one, this is fiction contains M/M, Yaoi, homoerotic undertones.
Number two, character death.
This is horrorand unlike any of the other stories I've posted here. Those are light and fluffy. This is twisted, dark, demented, and possibly even scary for someone who's extremely squeamish. (Personally, I don't think it's all that bad but I don't want to upset anyone with the content.)

I wrote this story because I wanted to try my hand at producing something other than romance and humor. This was my first ever attempt at horror and guro. There is cannibalism and torture, beware.

The Horror of Our Love

I'm a killer
Cold and wrathful
Silent sleeper
I've been inside your bedroom
I've murdered half the town
Left you love notes on their headstones
I'll fill the graveyards
Until I have you

Lips twist into a vicious sneer as golden eyes gleam eerily in the dark shadows of the alleyway. Disparaging and mocking, they take in the site of a small, petrified young man no older than twenty. Slender build, thick black hair, skin as pale and smooth as a pearl, eyes the color of molten chocolate, and as weak as a pathetic newborn kitten.

Succulent and ripe for the picking with nowhere to run.

Easy prey and an even easier meal.

At the thought, a surge of ravenous excitement rises, spreading warmth throughout Azrael's tall intimidating frame. He advances forward, closing in on the shaking boy, footsteps deadly silent in the quiet of the alley. Though they're no more than thirty feet from a busy intersection, the passage is tucked away in its own isolated realm.

They're own private world where he is the predator.

And the boy is the prey.

With each move Azrael makes the kid takes a step back in answer, slowly imprisoning himself as he grows closer to a dead end. It pleases Azrael and he chuckles softly, tone dark with malice.

"Don't scream," he whispers.

Moonlight walking
I smell your softness
Carnivorous and lusting
To track you down among the pines
I want you stuffed into my mouth
Hold you down and tear you open
Live inside you
Oh, love I'd never hurt you

Azrael pounces, movements so swift and agile the boy has no chance of escape. His arm lunges forth, strong fingers snapping around the kid's lithe neck and slamming him into the wall. The boy cries out as the sound of his back crunching against the brick wall echoes in the alley. He tries to scream again but Azrael is quick to cover his mouth and silence his cries of pain.

In blind panic, the boy begins struggling madly, his arms beating against Azrael's broad chest as he fights to knock the larger man off of him. But Azrael knows it's no use. He's stronger than the boy. Faster. A hell of a lot smarter.

And he's so very, very hungry.

He leans forward until his face hovers mere inches above the other's. Regardless of the lack of light, this close to the kid's pale face Azrael can easily make out the signs of stress etched into his expression. Sweat, dilated pupils, red-rimmed eyes filled with unshed tears, thin eyebrows drawn into a look of horror and uncertainty.

The site is like an aphrodisiac.

Moaning, Azrael's eyes slip shut momentarily as he tips his head back and inhales, taking in the sweet scent of fear emanating from his prey in tantalizing waves. The smell is incredible, heady and delectable. It's almost enough to make Azrael swoon. Even knock him off his feet.

He's never smelled anything quite like it.

Refocusing his attention on the trapped kid Azrael removes his hand from around the boy's throat. With his voice sounding almost sympathetic, he hushes him with soft soothing whispers. The child whines, the desperate sound muffled beneath the weight of Azrael's hand. Smiling, he croons, "Quiet now. If anyone hears, they'll take you away from me."

Any remaining light of hope withers away in brown eyes. They grow cold and dreary. The boy's face and body slacken.

Yet, the exhilarating aroma of fear only grows more pungent in the air.

Azrael tips the boy's head back, baring his neck.

But I'll grind against your bones
Until our marrows mix
I will eat you slowly
The horror of our love
Never so much blood pulled through my veins
The horror of our love
Never so much blood

It nearly comes as a surprise to Azrael just how much blood begins to blood as his teeth tear into the boy's tender flesh, ripping muscles and tendon alike. Like a faucet suddenly turned on full blast, warm blood bursts forcefully from the base of the kid's neck and fills Azrael's mouth as well as bathes his face in its crimson hue.

What makes the experience all the better is the kid has been screaming and writhing against the wall since the moment his teeth make contact with pale skin.

However; as much as he enjoys the muffled screeches Azrael can't risk the chance of someone actually overhearing. They would break up all the fun if they did. After tearing another chunk of meat from his meal Azrael pulls back to shoot his prey an exasperated glare. "I thought I told you to be quiet."

The boy punches him in the face, the impact bruising his bottom lip.

Now, that was unexpected. Azrael didn't really think he had it in him.

Gold eyes lighting up in sadistic delight he grins, ignoring the minor burn in his bottom lip. "Feisty."

The kid isn't done yet. As soon as Azrael moves the hand covering his mouth, he strikes again, punching and kicking wildly as he screams himself hoarse. The rather feeble hits to Azrael's face and body aren't necessarily precise or brutal but they serve the purpose of throwing him off balance long enough for his prey to escape his hold. Even so, Azrael isn't remotely worried. No, he's become far too exhilarated and entertained by the young man's valiant attempt. Throwing his head back, he cackles madly, his bright eyes literally beginning to grow moist with tears.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Azrael turns to watch as the terrified boy stumbles away on unsteady legs. Blood continues to pump from the gash in the kid's neck, spurting erratically and bathing everything nearby. Wide eyed, he glances back at Azrael for a moment, tears and snot running freely as he sobs; his voice raspy when he cries out, "Fuck! Just leave me alone!"

Amused, Azrael cocks a brow before skipping after the other leisurely.

Never before can he recall having so much fun with his food. In all his other hunts, his prey had an awful tendency to just sit there and scream while he ate them.

What a bore.

This is far more interesting.

The kid bolts for the alley's entrance.

I wake in terror
Blackbirds screaming
Dark cathedrals spilling
Midnight on their alters
I'm your servant
My immortal
Pale and perfect
Such unholy heaving
The statues close their eyes
The room is changing
Break my skin
And drain me

Hot on his heels, Azrael follows and promptly overtakes him. It isn't but a few moments until he's got a handful of the trashing boy's black hair in his grasp. Before the other has a chance to yell for help, Azrael ruthlessly slams his face into a nearby wall, repeatedly bashing the kid's skull against the brick surface while he giggles gleefully.

He's having the time of his life.

As a sharp crack rings throughout the alley, a deep crimson stain blossoms across the wall sending a thrill of pleasure throughout Azrael. Elated, Azrael throws the kid to the ground before straddling his fragile, broken frame. Head tilted to the side, he takes a moment to look over his quarry.

The boy's entire face is nearly unrecognizable. Where blood hasn't yet marked his once unblemished skin, sinister bluish-purple bruises reside. His brown eyes – one of them injured and nearly sealed shut – are unfocused as he gazes up at Azrael, head lolling to the side. His pert nose has been crushed, making it nearly impossible for him to breathe properly. And as his lips part, Azrael can see that a few teeth have been knocked out and his mouth is filling with more delicious blood.

Yearning for a taste, Azrael kisses his soft lips, delves his tongue into the boy's mouth and nearly moans when his taste buds are coated by warm metallic liquid. He flicks his dexterous tongue against the vacant space where the boy's teeth use to be in hopes of even more blood to feast on.

Fighting with what must be the very last ounce of his energy, the kid turns his face away. Weakly, his arms push against Azrael's broad chest and he gasps, "N-no… please…"

Tsking, Azrael grabs a hold of one of the kid's hands before bringing it to his mouth. He smiles softly before biting down on the finger until the bone crunches beneath the force of his teeth. Immediately, his prey's eyes glaze over in pain while his slender body arches reflexively, but he's too weak to yell. Too weak to do anything but lie there in excruciating pain as Azrael impulsively decides to bite into another finger.

Finally, after he's done destroying each and every appendage, Azrael releases the useless hand. It falls to the ground awkwardly, immobile save for reflexive tics.

While the kid heaves in a few wheezy breaths, Azrael runs his tongue across his lips, savoring the remaining traces of salty flesh.

Running his hands over the boy's battered features, Azrael takes the time to look over his handiwork. He's absolutely mesmerized by how perfect and edible the other looks right now. Barely responsive yet still fighting for consciousness. Chest heaving as his heart and lungs overexert themselves in an effort to keep him alive. It's a surprise to Azrael because he's positive that by now anyone else would have given up. Anyone else would have allowed themselves to slip away.

But what comes as the greatest surprise of all is when Azrael's eyes lock with the boy's eyes. They're no longer glazed over in fear, pain, or confusion. Oh no. Barely open, they glare up at him with a look of pure hatred and defiance.

Even the boy's scent has changed; it's become a spicier flavor that Azrael immediately finds tantalizing and more appealing than fear.

It only serves to make him more voracious.

The kid coughs up great heaps of blood before glaring at Azrael darkly, his eyes condemning his attacker to a fate far worse. "Rot in hell."

Ancient language
Speak through fingers
The awful edges
Where you end and I begin
Inside your mouth
I cannot see
There's catastrophe
In everything I'm touching
As I sweat and crush you

Azrael laughs as the boy glowers menacingly. He runs both hands over the other's bloody cheeks bones and just beneath the eyes.

Such pretty brown eyes.

Eyes filled with disgust and resentment.

Azrael briefly entertains the notion of popping them out to eat but he enjoys seeing all that anger, all that rage and loathing directed at him so fiercely. He likes knowing that he's the cause of it. He likes knowing that he put the look of delicious beauty upon the boy's face.

It makes this kill all the better.

Never in his wildest dreams could Azrael have hoped for a more fruitful hunt.

"You were perfect," Azrael murmurs sweetly as his prey's angry eyes finally slip closed.

The boy's heart stutters and then stops.

And I hold your beating chambers
Until they beat no more
You die like angels sing
The horror of our love
Never so much blood pulled through my veins
The horror of our love
Never so much blood

Azrael dives in immediately, ripping into his kill with gusto. With every succulent bite of flesh and muscle, he shivers pleasurably. He isn't disappointed in the least. The boy taste just as good, if not better than when he was still alive.

He eats through the cords of the neck. Nibbles at the shoulders. Removes the boy's shirt before consuming the flesh across his chest and belly. No part of the carcass is exempt from Azrael's gnawing hunger apart from the eyes.

Beautiful eyes set into a frozen expression of rage that stare forever unseeingly.

Chuckling again, Azrael leaves the kid's abdominals to lavish a slow lick along the line of the boy's cheekbone. He pecks his lips against the broken nose before heading south to bluish-white lips.

He kisses the dead flesh once more before biting it off.

You're a ghost, love
Nightgown flowing
Your body blue and walking
Along the continental shelf
You are a dream among the sharks
Beautiful and terrifying
Living restless
We dance in dark suspension

It's a long while before Azrael finishes gorging himself on his prey's flesh, savoring each bite like it's the last. Finally, with one more nibble, he pulls back, grinning though his entire face and clothing is drenched in cool blood and pieces of skin. Sighing blissfully, he sends a silent thank you the young man for such an enjoyable time.

Feeling bloated, he stands and trots over to a nearby trash bin where he keeps a few boxes of hefty bags, towels, and a spare change of clothes.

Azrael is quick to redress and clean himself. Though he's confident he was never seen, Azrael knows the longer he spends in the alley, the greater his chance of being caught grows. As dangerously unhinged and crazed as he may be, he's equally careful and meticulously when it comes to covering his tracks.

Finished, he begins to head out of the alley but a sudden and unprecedented feeling of regret washes over him. A bit perturbed, he glances back at the mutilated form of what's left of the kid.

He doesn't want to leave it behind.

Somehow, it doesn't seem right.

Such a delicious thing deserves a better ending than this.

With a careless shrug Azrael heads back over to the boy's body. He doubles up a couple hefty bags before carefully sliding the mutilated corpse into it. He doesn't know what he plans to do with the body. But there's something about those eyes that call out to him.

They stare at him spitefully as Azrael finally ties the opening of the bag shut.

He will never forget them. They've been burned into his memory.

Such pretty brown eyes.

And you bury me
In the ocean floor beneath you
Where they'll never hear us scream
The horror of our love
Never so much blood pulled through my veins
The horror of our love
Never so much blood…

The End

Why did I write this? Like I said, I wanted to try something different. I toned it down greatly from what I originally planned to do but, even so, there were a few readers who were actually horrified by this. *shurg*
I was reading about Wendigo psychosis: "An insatiable desire to eat human flesh, even when other food sources are available." – Discovery. It gave me the idea for this. Believe it or not, I'm actually incredibly afraid of cannibals and zombies. (Or anything that seems human but devours human flesh.) Using my own fear, I wanted to write a cannibalism story but one that seemed like it could take place right in your city or neighborhood. Not some remote, undiscovered part of the world.

Song is: The Horror Of Our Love by Ludo. An absolutely beautiful song if you listen to it. It's another of my favorites. Though I used it in this fashions, it's really a love song.