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“I could stare at your face for the rest of my days. Now I can breathe. Turn my insides out and smother me. Warm and alive, I'm all over you.”
“Smother” by The Used
Still wet and dripping pictures of death developed in the fitting red gloom. Scattered among the floor lay roses that may have had a little extra crimson on their fallen petals. Blood in extravagant amounts decorated the floors and walls and even misted the surface of the ceiling. There among the sculptures of flesh—some moving, some not anymore—Stefano paced his Union studio. He was feeling restless.
A new subject! And this one definitely one he was eager to...work with. The poor thing practically begged to be centered in the lens, preferably while offering a beautiful ruby spray from a few well-placed lacerations.
His faithful companion stood watching, their focus readjusting each time their master passed by. Their massive camera head twitched and they stretched their accordion-like neck curiously at each murmur or chuckle that floated into the air.
“So many options...so many scenarios....but only one will do.”
Stefano paused, staring off into his brilliant and disturbed thoughts, “Only one will be perfect.”
He turned towards Obscura, not really addressing them but using them as a sort of audience, “I must capture his essence. His soul must be cut out and exposed, his very being pouring from the canvas that is his skin. Oh, it’s going to be beautiful once I’m through with him!”
Walking towards Obscura, he absently ran his fingers along their neck as he passed by. Obscura gasped and moaned, following his movement. Stefano paused and smiled at them and they cooed at him apparently grateful for his attention.
“You feel it, too, don’t you, my dear?”, he murmured to them gently, “Why do I even ask? I know you do.”
In reality, Obscura was also feeling restless. Perhaps watching their master pace all over the room had affected them as well. When Stefano began to walk away he was met with resistance as a massive, skinless leg blocked his path. He turned and looked up at Obscura in an amused, quizzical way that heightened as he heard the click of their shutter.
“Ah. Are you also feeling inspired?”
They answered with another click. In their “eye” they had captured the gentle upward tilt of their master’s lips.
He leaned back a little, caressing the hard angles of their face.
“You are? I am not surprised. You are my own, after all.”
He chuckled and turned to step around the ribbon-clad ankle of his creation, then was stopped again as arms snaked around him, pulling him back into a slightly wet embrace complete with soft, affectionate moans. He sighed, looking over his shoulder at Obscura’s lens with pretend disapproval.
“You refuse to be denied, hm? I suppose that is certainly an admirable trait.”
He turned to face them again and leaned back in their arms, allowing them to support him and letting the seeping fluid of their flesh slightly soak his suit jacket.
“Well then, what are you thinking?”
To his amusement, Obscura’s head tilted to one side as though in thought, then their flash bulb went off. He laughed softly, a low rough sound.
“You need a subject, my love.”
They moaned and looked into his face, then clicked at him again.
He answered with a gloved hand to his mouth in mock surprise, “Me? Oh! Well, I’d be honored.”
He swiftly stepped out of their arms and away from their reach. At once the surroundings blurred and they were suddenly in a large open ballroom lit up with a grand chandelier and complete with a smooth marble floor.
A perfect arena.
“Alright then. Make me into art.”
His grin grew wider as they threw their head back and groaned in multiple feminine voices. The sound still made shivers tingle pleasantly through his spine. He spread his arms.
They lunged at him, claws bared. He laughed and easily stepped aside. Apparently they were anticipating this as they lashed a leg out and caught him behind his knees. He threw an arm out and stopped himself from falling, recovered, and backed away slowly, playfully beckoning to them.
They obeyed and skittered towards him. He phased as a clawed hand sliced through the air, his mischievous laugh and blue smoke all that Obscura caught. They looked around, gripping the stem of their massive flash bulb and turning to see their master standing behind them, his knife held loosely in his hands.
Obscura leaned forward eagerly, always loving the pretty gleam of their master’s blade. They clicked their shutter at the brilliant flashes of metal as Stefano toyed with the knife. They moaned softly at him and tilted their head again.
“No, no, my dear. I don’t plan on making this an easy shoot. You should know better.”
He leapt back as they grabbed at him with a shriek. He laughed again and stabbed forward with his knife.
“An artist must work for his craft. Come now, I know you can do—“
He was cut off as they grabbed the shoulder of his extended arm with enough force to rip through the cloth of his suit and he gasped as he felt Obscura’s claws practically melt into his skin. He grimaced amidst a flurry of shutter clicks then shut his eye as the flash bulb went off before he managed to tear away. Staggering, he touched a hand to his throbbing shoulder and studied his glove, his blood barely discernible against the maroon color. He looked up where Obscura stood poised and smiled.
“Very good, pet. Lucky, but good.”
Obscura was feisty today. He had been so distracted he had neglected the poor thing. Apparently allowing them free range to wander and make their own little masterpieces with the mindless masses of Union was not enough. Hiding his growing anticipation, he casually pulled off his red scarf and shrugged off his soiled suit jacket. This was going to be a vigorous one.
Obscura waited impatiently as their master neatly folded his scarf and jacket and then undid the cuffs of his shirt, slowly rolling up his sleeves, and undoing some of the buttons on the collar of his dress-shirt. His pale neck and arms were covered in healing and still fairly fresh scars, evidence of their previous rough-housing. He kept his gloves on though. All the while he kept Obscura in his sight, unable to stop his smile from widening as they grew more and more anxious.
“So eager”, he scolded teasingly.
Obscura began tapping their tri-legs in excitement as Stefano finally faced them with a challenging grin. He twirled his knife once before grasping the handle decisively.
“Well?”
They sighed in reply, then reared back with a moaning scream and leapt forward. Stefano could barely scramble out of their way, their monstrous legs pumping around him. They artfully dodged the swipe of his knife several times, their reaction and movement spider-like.
A few times Obscura’s claws met with Stefano’s flesh. His white dress-shirt was soon ripped and patterned with red blossoms and tracks. The folded cuffs of his sleeves bordered crimson.
So far, Obscura had caught the image of the fervent gleam in their master’s eye as dangerous as the twisted sheen of his blade. The mild look of surprise before the pain as their claws raked across his chest where his open shirt collar exposed him was now immortalized. There was even one where he was peering over his shoulder in a turning jump, blue smoke wreathed around his body, fresh blood spray frozen in mid-air.
Obscura could see the blood. Could somehow taste it and smell it as well. It was overwhelming and struck them like pheromones. It became their focus, their obsession, their world. And their master’s playful grin encouraged them to give it their all.
“Come on”, Stefano urged with an enthusiastic hiss as more of his blood spattered on Obscura’s lens. The pain acted like a drug that heightened his senses, “There’s plenty where that came from! Don’t you want more?”
Obscura had been still for a few moments, their head tilted curiously as he circled them. He barely finished talking when Obscura struck without warning. He was distracted for only a minute moment at the muscle of their thighs tightening like a coil but it was long enough.
He landed hard on his back, his head knocking against the marble floor, stunning him. His knife clattered away upon his impact with the floor, sliding out of reach. He watched it, still trying to gain his bearings, then began moving to retrieve it.
Suddenly Obscura was atop him, their legs immediately arranged around his body and gripping him tightly, restricting his arms. Its massive form pressed against him seamlessly. The wind knocked out of him, breathing was already difficult with the muscles of Obscura’s legs squeezed around his waist and chest.
What air was left in his lungs escaped as a broken groan. Dazed, he could see his reflection in Obscura’s massive lens: his mouth open and lips slack, his eye half-lidded, the crease of his brow deepening at the lack of air. He felt a single sharp claw caress his face and neck and then press, releasing warmth along his collar bone and somehow he managed to gasp at the sensation.
All the while Obscura’s lens fluttered and captured it all. Their grip barely gave their master enough room to squirm.
Stefano was beginning to feel slight desperation. Perhaps he should regularly exercise Obscura. That way they wouldn’t be so—
He gasped and then groaned, gritting his teeth as blade-like nails gently pricked the insides of his arms and ruthlessly dragged. He could feel his skin tearing like a zipper. His eye shut but he could still see the flash of their bulb under his closed lid.
Oh, that’s going to be a good shot, he thought dizzily as his head began to feel lighter and lighter.
One of Obscura’s clawed hands dragged up his chest, making their master stiffen up again with another strangled groan. They lightly scratched his jaw before catching his neck between their thumb and forefinger and then slowly pressing down. Stefano could see his eye widen in Obscura’s lens as his air was suddenly and completely cut off.
His legs started moving, the heels of his shoes slowly and then a bit frantically scraping against the marble floor. His neck stretched, his eye staring unfocused in his struggle to breath. He barely blinked at the flash this time.
Obscura was getting all of these wonderful shots! They moaned happily and nuzzled gently against his hair, partially uncovering his right eye. With their free hand, they lovingly ran a nail over the scar tissue mapping the usually covered side his face. Their master gave no indication if he noticed, his shoulders jerking every now and then and his mouth slightly opening and closing.
Finally Obscura noted their master’s good eye beginning to roll back and his head weakly tilting to the side, his tightening body suddenly becoming still. They drew back their massive hand from his neck. Stefano lay prone, his lips still slack. Obscura tilted their head quizzically and quickly stabbed their claws along his ribs, making sure to snap more images as his eye flew open, the light making its pale blue color icy as he convulsively drew in a ragged breath. With a final nudge at his face, Obscura rose off of him a little, their enormous lens closely studying his movements.
Oxygen had never tasted so sweet. Stefano gasped for air until his breathing somewhat normalized. Inches away was Obscura’s lens showing his dazed reflection and somehow expressing confused concern. He ran his gloved, trembling fingers along his sides feeling the tender but shallow new cuts. His vision now clearing of the black blotches that bloomed as he passed out, he brought his hand up and unsteadily caressed Obscura’s lens. His touch left a smudge of wet redness on its surface.
He smiled weakly, “That was perfect, Love.”
He allowed Obscura to scoop him up in their arms and carry him to a lounge chair where they draped him over the pristine cream cushions gently, promptly decorating it with blood.
Stefano sighed, his body molding along the curve of the chair. One of his arms fell off the edge, slack, and he merely watched Obscura snap a few shots of that. They turned their focus back on their master’s face and body, the way his chest still rose and fell a little unsteadily, the exhausted but satisfied look on his face, the blood and scars scattered lovingly over his skin.
They then retrieved his suit jacket and lay it over him. He pressed a bloody forefinger to his lips, smearing blood on his mouth, then lightly tapped it on Obscura’s lens as they cooed and moaned at him.
He smiled tiredly at them as they folded their legs then suddenly rested their massive head on his lap heavily. He flinched at the weight then chuckled softly as they let out a satisfied hum.
“You performed beautifully. As always.”
He let his head fall back against the curve of the chair’s arm, his fingers absently following the ridges of their neck, his eye starting to drift closed, then looked down questioningly as Obscura began fidgeting, batting his hand with their lens gently.
“No, cherub. I’ll be perfect after a little rest. You know I love playing with you. I’ve just been...distracted.”
The image of distressed, tawny eyes made him smile lazily. At once a low groan rumbled up at him. He closed his eye and breathed deeply with a soft laugh.
“Jealousy does not become you, Love.”
Obscura settled their head comfortably in Stefano’s lap, their lens ever adoring as they took a last shot of their master in the beginnings of dreams undoubtedly filled with blood and roses.
End