Chapter Text
There was an urban legend in Pai about a mysterious travelling troupe, a show of great wonders and bizzare performances. It’s said no one ever came out of the show sane— that if they made it out alive in the first place. It terrified the locals after several alleged strange disappearance incidents, no one ever dared to look into it after the countless cases during their shows. However, the legend had long been forgotten, not a single soul speaks of it anymore. Po and his sister never believed it anyways; since they only ever heard of it as children so to them it sounded like a story their parents told them to scare them from going outside late at night, like those cheesy ghost stories— who would believe such a thing anyway? Impressionable children and gullible adults no doubt.
“Po! Are you listening to me?” His older sister called for him for the third time.
“Sorry, I zoned out.” Well, obviously, his sister only sighed in response.
“Always easily distracted, you never change. Brother.” She scolded him half-heartedly, she was used to it at this point, he's always been this way he can't help it. Ever since he was a kid he's always zoned out in the midst of a conversation; there's too many instances of her having to repeat herself over and over again, because her brother’s brain disconnected for a while halfway through their conversation. It’s fine she just needs to repeat how her now ex-boyfriend broke up with her because he believed she's with him for his money. She paid all the bills, while he was unemployed.
It's been a while since he had to listen to his sister talk his ears off ever since he moved to the big city to pursue his dreams in the creative field, although his family worried for him at first; they came around eventually to support him unconditionally. Now that he’s on a very well-deserved break; he gets to spend it back home with his family.
“The bastard! I told you he’s bad news!!” Po exclaimed, it was obvious for everyone but his sister how much of a douchebag that man was; he was stingy, had a foul mouth and always whined like a child, but hey, she's finally free.
Po wasn't one to talk though since he also had his fair share of toxic boyfriends so he didn't really blame her for not seeing how terrible of a human being he was; being in love really makes you blind, it makes you deny your own eyes and reject any sense of judgement that might burst your peaceful, blissful bubble— he had to be slapped back into reality several times by his best friend Baifern to realize these men didn't deserve any more of his time and energy.
Speaking of Baifern…
“What brings you here, Fern?” Po’s mother asks the flaming-red haired girl having dinner with the Nuenganan’s— not even Po knew about this surprise visit. She appeared at their doorstep out of the blue as they were preparing dinner so she stuck around (Not because she wanted a free meal or anything).
“I'm here to visit my bestest friend of all time.” She answered with a grin on her face as she hugged Po closer to her, the older boy rolled his eyes; he knew damn well she wouldn't travel all the way to Paifrom Bangkok, a whole 12 hours ride, just to see him; there must be another reason. It didn't matter at the moment though, since Po’s family adored Baifern to pieces, so does Po as they’ve been neighbours and childhood friends ever since they can both remember so they're more than delighted to host her tonight and maybe have her stay for a couple of days.
“So there's this big BIG circus show coming to your town and I want to go and see it.” Baifern tells Po as soon as they're settled in his room getting all comfy on his bed, seated face to face.
“Is this why you're here?” Po furrowed his eyebrows at his best friend's revelation, he was perplexed to say the least. Truth be told, Po was never allowed to go see any circus shows growing up as his parents believed in the urban legend, even if Po himself didn't believe in it so he didn't know anything about circus shows. However, it's surprising for a big circus (according to Baifern) to come all the way to a small town such as Hat Yai.
“It’s said that it has the most breathtaking performances; it's different from any ordinary circus. It's almost like it's from a whole other world, a different dimension.” Baifern said in awe, filled with anticipation and enthusiasm. Po scoffed at Baifern's gullibility, because whoever said that must be exaggerating or it might be the circus PR team just creating a fake hype. I mean, no way something THAT big is coming to their small town out of all the cities in the country.
“So?” Baifern anticipated her best friend’s answer, although Po seemed pretty unconvinced, hesitant— I mean the show sounded too good to be true and Po still had no idea how those shows usually go; he’s only seen them in animated shows and he doesn't know how accurate the fictional depictions were.
“And it's a good opportunity for you to take photos for our next team meeting, don't you think?” She knew Po was dedicated to his work and wouldn't miss an opportunity even during his vacation; it was one of the main reasons he came back home in the first place. However he wasn't exactly convinced of this one.
Eventually, Po gave up on arguing with her because he knew she’d go regardless, she already made up her mind so he didn't want her to go alone -just in case- “What kind of acts do they offer?” Baifern -figuratively of course- jumped at the opportunity to explain to her friend all the things she heard. “They said although they perform standard circus acts, they're not just regular performances; they perform them differently than other troupes, they say they're straight out of a fantasy book!!” She said with excitement in her voice, her hand moving around as she described one performance she heard of, about a mysterious tightrope dancer going by the alias Apollo, although -allegedly- he’s the main show there was no pictures of him anywhere which Po found highly suspicious— not that he was any less suspicious of this troupe. Unfortunately for the photographer though, his best friend seems to be vibrating with excitement so there's no talking her out of this, in Po’s opinion, horrendous decision.
“Well, since you require adult supervision; I’ll go.” He caved in— to be completely honest, he’d follow Baifern to hell if he had to since she’d been the one person standing besides him, unwavering, to catch him whenever he fell. Baifern knew it. However, she still protested at the adult supervision part. “I’m quite literally two years older than you!! I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Thank you very much.” She replied with a bigger attitude than her own body. Where the hell does she store all that sass??
On the contrary of what Baifern said, she did in fact need adult supervision; especially after that one time she beat up a grown man twice her size while drunk— in her defense he was hitting on her friend and refused to take a no for an answer so Baifern had to take matters into her own hands— figuratively and literally. Or that one time she almost hit a giant tree with her dad’s car, sober. Po didn't think it could get worse until she almost got kidnapped around two years ago by some crazy older woman claiming Fern is her daughter. Safe to say Po never left her alone ever since, he’s traumatized for her. Of course he didn't mention the aforementioned incidents, so he just nodded in agreement so she’d stop sulking.
If Po would be honest, he was curious himself about the show she’d been raving about for the past hour nonstop, besides it's a new experience for him so what could possibly go wrong?
Perhaps everything Po had ever known.
Po woke up to Baifern and his sister chatting in the next room, the sounds of their loud laughter disturbed his -no longer- peaceful slumber through paper-thin walls. He groaned as he was gaining his full consciousness, stretching on his mattress, occasionally yawning prompting him to rub his eyes to dust off any drowsiness residue left on them. He eventually sat up, looking towards the mirror standing tall across from his bed, eyeing the bird-nest on his head he calls hair. Absolutely atrocious. He really could use a nice shower.
Po rose from his bed headed to his closet, he grabbed the closest shirt and sweatpants as well as newly bought undergarments before he made his way to the bathroom. After he quickly undressed himself, he twisted both shower handles, adjusting them here and there until the water reached a temperature he liked. He grabbed a generous amount of shampoo in his hands, rubbed them together for a few seconds to apply it as evenly as possible on his hair. Then he leisurely began to rub his body with a loofah loaded with lavender scented body wash. The photographer turned his face up with his eyes closed, revelling under the refreshing water running down his very toned body. Po’s a simple man, he enjoyed the little things in life such as nice warm showers, everyday sceneries, meals with his family, feeding the stray cat by his company’s door, the clouds dancing and shifting in the vibrant sky. However, sometimes Po couldn't help but feel the dullness of his life, there was nothing special about him, he was boring, wasn't sociable, and he wasn't exactly outstanding at work despite all his hard work and dedication. He wasn't but an average guy from a very humble background in an industry where connections and family names dictate your value— so he was pretty much disposable and that fact alone haunted him more than he wanted to admit. Po yearned for something, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly but he knew something was missing.
As much as Po wanted to drown himself more in his silent anguish, a knock on the door pulled him back to reality, followed by his sister shouting for him to finish fast, the water bill will skyrocket because of him. He sighed as he turned off the water then grabbed his towel to dry his water-drenched hair first then the rest of his body. He opened the door once he was fully dressed up with his towel thrown over his shoulder, looking at his sister who had her arms crossed on her chest.
“Finally!!” She exclaimed, Po just rolled his eyes in response . “My mom went with Baifern to meet her parents and she left the grocery’s list for you on kitchen island.” She informed him as soon as he started walking out, he gave her an ‘ok’ sign with his hand before he disappeared into his sister's room to use her hairdryer.
The trips to the grocery store was one of the little activities Po enjoyed doing occasionally, of course he always had to do it at the city since he lived on his own, however it was different at his hometown as it gave him a delightful sense of nostalgia from when he was younger and his mother would send him to buy whatever she needed to cook dinner that day as she’d only trust Po with it since he’d always been very meticulous with his tasks, even when he got sidetracked sometimes by something he found interesting on his way or occasionally happened to run into Baifern. His sister however was more interested in helping their father repair his red vintage truck.
The aroma of spices, herbs and freshly harvested crops hit Po once he arrived at the local market. Too many things to browse through. He looked at the little paper he was holding in his hand to read the list once again.
“Basil, lime leaves, chilli powder…” Po was reading the list while walking, not paying attention to his surroundings since he knew the market by heart so he didn't really need to look at where he was going until someone bumped into him, halting him on his track. The person started apologizing profusely and the first thing Po noticed was that the stranger was so soft-spoken it compelled him to look up from his little piece of paper that somehow was more important than the accident prior to this moment. Po didn't know what he was expecting but it definitely wasn't a boy with dark hair, puppy-like eyes and a charming smile. A boy so visually breathtaking that every model Po had ever photographed paled in comparison. A million different thoughts crossed Po’s mind including the urge to ask for his name and number that he didn't realize he’d yet to respond to the boy before him.
“Oh no it's fine! It's always busy here so it happens more often than you think.” Po assured him, definitely not ignoring how his heart palpitated the longer he looked at the boy’s angelic face. To Po’s dismay, it didn't escape the boy’s notice that Po was staring for way longer than appropriate. “Is there anything on my face?” The pretty boy questioned with a slight head tilt; snapping Po out of his trance— The photographer cleared his throat, the pretty boy giggled in clear amusement. “What's your name?” The boy asked, and Po’s heart may or may have not skipped a beat. “Po. Po Pawat.” He blurted out without even thinking, as if he was under some sort of spell. “We’ll meet again then, Po Pawat.” Like the sun, the boy beamed at Po that the photographer almost melted under the emitting warmth. Hearing his name from a soft voice like that didn't help Po’s case either. And before he even realized it the boy was long gone before he could ask for his name back.
The boy didn't look familiar to Po since the town is pretty small and everyone knew one another. Was he a tourist? It wasn't that strange at all for tourists to visit the town due to the religious and regional attractions. However that meant there's a possibility Po would never see him again and he regretted not asking for his number or even his name.
Po Pawat you fucking loser. He internally cussed himself while sighing in defeat.
To Po’s misfortune, and despite all his efforts to move on with his day; he found himself wandering around aimlessly, thinking about the boy from earlier. He couldn't get him out of his head even if he tried. His charming smile, his jet black hair contrasting with his beautiful fair skin, his mesmerizing eyes— his enchanting voice. It felt as though Po was bewitched by the young man to the point of losing track of his own reality. He ended up either forgetting stuff from his mother’s shopping list or bringing an entirely different item. It was obvious to everyone around him that he was entirely out of it— they tried to question and pry but the man wasn't willing to spill it out to anyone, not even Baifern; he’s definitely taking it to the grave.
The weekend finally rolled by, when the anticipated show was supposed to take place according to Baifern. The girl in question was beyond ecstatic that she spent all her morning getting ready, doing her makeup and choosing her outfit very meticulously. Po, on the other hand, barely made it out of his bed that morning— he planned on sleeping in the entire day if it wasn't for Baifern distributing his slumber, reminding him that he already made a promise to accompany her to the show. Of course he regretted it but he wasn't the man to go back on his word so he had no choice but to get up and dress in whatever outfit he found first in his wardrobe.
The town was small so it was pretty easy to spot the red and white tent by the town outskirts the moment they made it out of the house; the tent seemed huge even from a distance, with vibrant bright red and pearl white stripsh. Even if the tent wasn't so visible; Po could easily tell what's happening by the sounds of the people of the town whispering amongst themselves about it, some curious, some wondering when and how did it appear, some anticipating such a rare event, and some -mainly older folks- were distressed while reciting the urban legend which Po himself forgot about— not that it mattered anyway since it was nothing but a myth.
As Po and Baifern made their way to the show, they could see the long line waiting to buy tickets. “It's gonna be a long day, huh.” Po remarked with a sigh. He expected they'd have to wait in-line however he didn't expect it to be this long and it's too late to back out and return home.
While they waited in-line, Po looked around, visually analyzing his surroundings and occasionally taking pictures with his digital camera hanging from his neck. The atmosphere felt odd to him; although it was midday, the sky was strangely dark— most of the lighting was coming from the light sign spilling ‘Phantoms of Mars’ and the few fairy lights hanging from the tent roof to a couple of metal rods circling around.
The name in particular caught Po’s attention. In Roman mythology ‘Mars’ is the name of the God of War, lover of Venus, Goddess of Beauty and Love. He was the counterpart of the Greek God of War, Ares. Although they're parallels to one one another, the tales of Mars differed from those of Ares. Unlike Mars, who was said to be the guardian and protector of the people of Roman civilization. Meanwhile Ares represented pure rage and destruction, it's said he was a brutal force who thrived under bloodshed and chaos.
Po used to read quite a lot about mythologies as a teenager even when he had little access to them due to most resources written either in foreign languages he couldn't understand. Even then, Po strived to read as much as possible as these tales and deities fascinated him, especially the mythical creatures— he used to read about Sirens, Phoenixes, Banshees, Hellhounds, Hydras and more. The concept of existences beyond nature enthralled him regardless of whether they were real or not. At the end of the day, fiction interested him more than his dull, mundane reality.
Speaking of Roman mythology and Gods, Po looked down at the flyer he was handed by a masked staff member earlier. He noticed a recurring theme with the names; the show was called Phantoms of Mars, and for the performers, Jupiter, Apollo, Venus, Somnus, Mors and Medusa were the names listed. The flyer only consisted of the names of the performers under the title of the show and some sort of slogan, nothing else; so Po didn't know what to expect exactly, he could only speculate based on their names. There were no pictures anywhere and the staff handling the audience outside were all masked, with the upper half of their faces hidden— it gave Po an eerie feeling.
“I’m so excited!! Last time I attended a carnival like this was years ago!” Baifern spoke, unaware of her best friend feeling uneasy next to her. He just gave her a forced smile and a nod— he didn't want to ruin her excitement.
“Stay here, I’ll go around taking photos.” He instructed his friend, gaining a nod of acknowledgment from her and an ‘ok’ hand gesture. He felt he might go insane if he just waited around in-line while this unearthly feeling was pooling inside at the bottom of his stomach.
The thing is, Po wasn't the type to get scared or frightened easily, even as a child— none of these urban legends and ghost stories disturbed him; it's just that he couldn't shake off the feeling of this haunted presence around this place he’d been feeling ever since he arrived with Baifern.
The photographer strolled around, snapping pictures here and there as the staff organized things around, walking in and out of the smaller tents to the main one— everyone seemed to be too occupied to notice him. Although the place felt eerie, Po couldn't deny it had an oddly enchanting feel to it; the red and yellow lights illuminating, the strange costumes of the people of the circus, the different unidentifiable props. The place was beautiful in the most haunting way possible.
Po got lost in this new mysteriously mesmerizing feeling, his child-like wonder driving him to a place he shouldn't be.
“This is a staff-only restricted area.” He heard a feminine, intimidating voice that compelled him to turn around— Po’s heart almost sank in fear upon seeing the woman before him. A woman with sharp snake-like eyes and a high nose, the sides of her face covered in green-ish snake scales. She started approaching Po closer and closer “Curiosity killed the cat, y’know.” the closer she got the further Po walked backwards. The photographer’s tongue failed him, he wanted to apologize, to say he got carried away and didn't notice where he was going, that he’ll leave now. Yet he was petrified in place, unable to vocalize anything.
“C’mon Dusa, don't scare him like that, I’m sure he didn't know.” A certain familiar soft voice spoke playfully. “I’ll take it from here.” Po turned his gaze towards the owner of the voice, unsure if his ears were deceiving him— his eyes widened as soon as he laid his eyes upon the pretty boy from days ago, Po couldn't be mistaken; he’d been thinking of him nonstop ever since he met him that day.
“Fine, but be quick about it.” The woman Po now learned her name is Medusa, said in an annoyed tone before she left.
The photographer stalked the pretty boy with his eyes as he approached him with a smile. “We meet again, Po.” He said as he shifted closer to Po. “Didn't think you’d come to our show, I'm gonna be very honest, however, I’m pleasantly surprised.” The boy was slightly shorter than Po yet his presence was overwhelming. The photographer cleared his throat, finally finding his voice “I didn't think I’d see you here either.”
“I’m one of the main shows, of course I’ll be here. I go by Apollo, however it's merely a stage name.” The performer wore a smirk on his face, he got closer than Po considered safe, grabbed him by his biceps and whispered in a sultry voice “My real name is Thame, but it's a secret between you and me, mhhmm?” He put his finger on Po’s lips, putting emphasis on the secret part. Po trembled underneath the performer’s cold touch that he questioned whether or not he was aware of what he’s doing to the photographer— Thame had Po quivering under his gaze and it wasn't due to the performer’s ice cold body.
The performer finally let go of Po. “My lips are sealed.” Po promised, trying to sound as unaffected by the performer despite his pounding heart as humanly as possible— not that it mattered as his voice betrayed him anyway by the way it came out trembling. Thame flashed Po a very satisfied smile, as if he just taught a puppy a new trick. “Good. Now you should go back before someone else sees you. I don't want you to be in trouble, you know.” Po nodded, very obediently.
“Can I take a picture of you first though?” He asked, uncertain of his own question but he couldn't resist it— Thame was gorgeous, he looked even more enchanting in his performance costume, although it looked strange and eccentric, it suited him a lot. He couldn't let this opportunity slip away, not like last time. Thame’s eyes widened in surprise at Po’s question, he didn't expect him to be this bold considering he’d been nothing but shy and reserved based on every interaction he had with him so far. However, who was Thame to deny this cute man his request?
“Sure, on one condition however,” Thame agreed, he smiled fondly at how Po’s face lit up the moment he said yes, both in delight and surprise that Thame actually agreed. “Anything, I’ll do anything.” Po sounded desperate even to himself. “Just don't show it to anyone,okay? There's a reason we all wear masks here.” Po agreed to it without any further questions, he didn't care as long as he got to capture Thame with his camera he was willing to agree to any and every condition the performer had— he was planning on keeping the pictures to his eyes only anyway.
Thame shifted, increasing the distance between him and the photographer— leaving Po with nothing but the ghost of Thame’s touch, craving it even more now he lost it.
“Is this fine?” Thame asked as he posed for the picture, an unusual pose Po had never seen any of his models do before— Thame crossed one foot before the other, exaggerating the posture of his back, raising both arms to place one hand above his head and the other below his chin. The pose looked strange yet majestic, it highlighted Thame’s figure in the best way possible. “More than fine.” Po answered, to say he was bewitched by Thame’s elegance and beauty would be an understatement.
The photographer grabbed his camera firmly, afraid that his subject might disappear. With shaking hands he brought the little device before his eye— the first thing he noticed was that not even his expensive camera could capture the ethereal beauty of the subject before him— he didn't think anything could if he was honest.
Po changed a few of the settings before he adjusted the lens focus, highlighting Thame while blurring the background behind him to some degree, giving a radiance effect to the picture. The photographer pressed the shutter button— the camera took multiple shots in a rapid succession. Po lowered the camera to check how the pictures turned out, as expected not as close as to the real thing but still breathtaking regardless. Po was convinced nothing could ever dim Thame’s beauty. To Po’s dismay, when he raised his head to look for the boy in question he didn't find him anywhere, as if he disappeared into thin air. Po sighed in defeat before he went back to Baifern.
Like a spell casted on him, Po couldn't think about anything other than Thame; his radiant smile, his soft voice, his ethereal beauty, his graceful figure and the way he carried himself. Po’s brain drifted to the moment of Thame getting too close to him, to grab him and whisper in his ear sweet nothings— Po felt his entire body heating up at the thought of that memory. He recalled how Thame embraced him too close, telling him secrets in a voice that was too dangerous for Po and his sanity. Despite it being only their second meeting, he still told him a very intimate detail about himself, even allowing Po to take a picture. The thought of Thame looking at Po and Po alone with his unwavering gaze sent a chill up and down the photographer’s spine.
Po and Baifern took their seats amongst the crowd, overwhelmed with anticipation underneath the dim lighting inside. Po noticed the lights going dimmer and dimmer until they went entirely out before a bright, white spot light appeared from above, showing a figure holding a black cane with golden handle, wearing a red coat paired with black pants and a top hat. He spoke in a very loud and confident voice.
“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the greatest show you will ever witness! Where will I be, Jupiter, the ring leader of Phantoms of Mars, taking you on a very spectacular journey.”
Jupiter, the Roman God of Heaven and the ruler of the Roman Pantheon, also known as the Roman parallel of Zeus, the Greek God of Thunder and king of Olympus. Jupiter was referred to as “All powerful” as he held the most power amongst the Gods, he was worshipped like no other. It made sense for the ring leader to go by Jupiter if he’s the one orchestrating the show.
Much like the staff Po saw outside, the ring leader had a mask on, and thinking back to what Thame said it was safe to assume everyone performing will also be hiding their faces behind masks. However, the ring leader had a very distinguishable mask, unlike the ones Po saw earlier who all were wearing identical masks. Po wondered why— since Thame only mentioned having to wear their masks without elaborating on the reason. All the photographer could do is make his own assumptions to come up with a conclusion that made sense. Perhaps to protect their identities? Or maybe so they can perform more freely? Or to avoid being perceived for their appearance rather than their performance? The last one made sense to Po considering how breathtaking Thame’s beauty was, not to mention the woman called Medusa was also beautiful despite the heavy makeup she had on.
“Without further ado let me introduce to you our first show of the day, it’s none other than the ever so beautiful, the alluring contortionist, Venus.” He announced, gaining loud applause and cheers from the audience before the light shifted from him, letting him disappear into the darkness, and shining on the performer in question instead.
Venus, the Goddess of Love, Beauty and Sexual Desire. The lover of Mars and mother of Cupid. Her name translates directly from the Latin language to “Love”. She was the Roman counterpart of Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus and Dione. Venus was oftentimes jealous of mortals and other Goddess that she’d put a curse on them solely for surpassing her own beauty— she was a vengeful woman despite being worshipped for her breathtaking beauty.
Venus, the performer, had bright blond hair and pretty cat-like eyes peering from behind the mask. He wore a tight spandex suit hugging his small figure as he moved to the music resonating across the arena. His moves seemed to be perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the singing instruments— one minute he’s twisting his body and the next he’s bending over backwards while standing on his hands. The scene before him didn't feel real, the way the contortionist moved his body felt as though he was made of liquid and not solid flesh and bones— did he even have a spinal cord? He moved lightly like a cat, shifting his entire body from a position to the other, earning gasps and cheers from the crowd. Po turned to his side to find his best friend sitting still with her mouth wide open— seems like she’d never witnessed something like this before either.
The crowd applauds got louder and louder as the contortionist finished his performance with one last stunt. Venus adjusted his posture to bow down to the crowd as they cheered for him before Jupiter, the ring leader came out announcing the end of the performance.
“Ladies and gents and everyone in between; that was the end of our contortionist’s performance, but don't worry as the show has just begun and the night is still young.”
The entire arena was on the edge of their seats, anticipating the next performance. However, something felt off, very off, everyone including Baifern looked as though they were under some sort of spell. Po tried to talk to Baifern, he called her name multiple times, but she wasn't responsive at all, she had her eyes on the centre of the arena— it was as though she was hypnotized.
“Our next performer is the fierce, the one and only Serpent Empress, Medusa.” Jupiter, the ring leader announced. The crowd cheered in unison.
This one is interesting, so far everyone was named after a God except this one, she was named after a mortal turned monster. Medusa’s story was one so gut-wrenching according to the interpretations Po read. Medusa was one of Athena’s, Goddess of Wisdom, or in Roman mythology, Minerva, loyal servant. She served at her temple ever so devoted— it said Medusa was a woman with breathtaking beauty, a woman all mortals and Gods desired all the same. However, the Goddess of Wisdom forbade the women serving her from having any sexual intercourses. Unfortunately for Medusa, Posieden in Greek mythology or Neptune in Roman mythology, decided to force himself onto her, driving the Goddess of Wisdom to turn Medusa into the snake-headed monster she became. The reason for the Goddess to curse Medusa differed from a tale to the other, some said the Goddess blamed Medusa for what happened that's why she was cursed and banished her as a punishment, another said the Goddess turned her into a petrifying monster to protect her from men touching her ever again.
The crowd cheered when Medusa showed up, dressed in a snake-skin bodysuit, the upper half of her face hidden behind a green and gold mask with tiny snakes adorning the edges, dark long hair framing her face. The photographer got startled upon seeing the herd of serpents coming out of the dark, crawling their way to the woman— he didn't know what to expect but it definitely wasn't for the woman to start dancing with the snakes as they wrapped themselves around the performer's limbs, abdomen, chest and neck. It was terrifying, chill-inducing even.
Medusa danced with her snakes like there's no tomorrow. They moved in synchronized patterns with the woman as she sang an enchanting melody— as if they were bewitched by her singing.
“Give it up to our snake-charmer everyone.” the ring leader cheered with the audience.
One performance after the other, making Po both amazed and creeped out. He couldn't tell if he loved or hated it— in hindsight, these performers were impressively talented, there was no denying that. On the other hand, he couldn't help but get this strange uncanny feeling from earlier before the show began coming back to haunt him. Perhaps it was only in his head since everyone around him including his best friend seemed to be enjoying their time.
The ring leader introduced the acrobat duo, Somnus and Mors. Interesting choice of names— considering Somnus and Mors served the underworld under Pluto’s, also known as Hades in Greek mythology, ruling. Somnus and Mors, the Roman equivalents of Hypnos, God of Slumber and Thanatos, God of Death, as well as sons of Nyx, or her Roman parallel, Nox, the Goddess of Night.
The ring leader announced their upcoming final show for the night, which Po assumed was Thame— as much as the previous shows were captivating, Thame was the only one he truly looked forward to and was waiting all night for.
“Last but not least, our spectacular Siren of Flames, the main show, Apollo.” The crowd cheered louder than before upon hearing the name, it felt as though they knew who Apollo was or they'd seen him before. Po on the other hand, lit up, his eyes searching for the guy in question.
When Po’s eyes finally landed on the performer, they dilated upon seeing him; his hair and mask were made out of blue flames— the flames seemed to be coming out of his own body. It didn't seem real, Po must be hallucinating. However, the crowd didn't seem concerned one bit, they just continued cheering and applauding, including Baifern, they kept chanting his name.
Apollo was the God of Arts, the sun, healing— and everything that's beautiful, everything that's essential for living. There wasn't any Greek or Roman God that suited Thame more. Thame was ethereal, radiant like the sun, he moved so gracefully as the flames danced around him in rhythm with his singing. His singing voice was even more enchanting, he sang his heart out, the more intense he sang; the higher the flames got. It looked as though he controlled the fire with just his voice— as if they were following his every command.
Thame danced through the blazing flames fearlessly and confidently, he moved his figure just like he practiced over and over again for decades. He felt all eyes glued on him, however, there was only one pair of eyes amongst the audience that he cared about. The flame dancer searched between the entranced crowd with his eyes to find the familiar face he yearned to see for days— he was beyond delighted to find the photographer with his devoted, undivided attention on Thame. He noticed how Po’s body shifted the minute they locked eyes. Thame was more than aware of how the intensity of his gaze alone affected the taller man. He was so easy to crack; it made Thame want to tinker with him even more than he initially did the first time he laid eyes on the man.
Thame couldn't resist approaching him that day at the town’s market so he came up with a plan; he pretended to accidentally bump into him, get his attention no matter what. When the taller man seemed occupied with the paper in his hand, not noticing Thame who just 'accidentally’ crashed into him; so he decided to speak up— Thame started apologizing profusely, making sure the man looked his way. Which seemed to do the trick as Po’s face changed from completely distracted and lost in thought to the stuttering mess he became as soon as he laid eyes on Thame— which wasn't part of the dancer’s plan at all, however, it was a welcome development. After all, all Thame wanted was to get his attention and know his name.
When he saw him strolling outside the arena, he couldn't resist not observing him for some time— however the photographer seemed to be oblivious to Thame’s presence as he was occupied with photographing his surroundings to notice. He planned to observe him for longer however, unfortunately for him, Kaem, who’s known by her stage name, Medusa, decided to interrupt him by calling Po out for entering the restricted area— which Thame was planning on turning a blind eye on prior to her intervention. Thame had no choice but to intervene to save Po; he knew it wouldn't end well if the human found out about things he wasn't supposed to.
Fortunately, Po seemed to not catch on to anything strange and so far he hadn't seen anything. Well, aside from Thame. The photographer’s eyes widened upon seeing the siren, he clearly didn't expect to see the performer here of all places. Thame approached him, even risked revealing his real secret, just to touch him. To feel him. Po was warm, and the way his body heated up under Thame’s touch filled the dancer’s aether-less being. He savored the way the taller man lost his act under his gaze, the way he twitched under his cold touch. He could easily tell Po was so into him that he didn't know in which way to mess with him. He wanted to be around Po, to tinker with him, to talk to him, to feel his human touch, to bask in his warmth. To Thame, it was more than hunger for the photographer's aether— his craving went deeper. Deeper than he was allowed to.
The siren continued his performance just like he always did, swaying and moving his body ever so elegantly as he manipulated the flames around him to bend to his will. He felt the photographer’s eyes stalking him, intrigued by the performer, enchanted even. He loved it. He couldn't deny the euphoria he felt from the human’s infatuation with him. He wanted more. More and more.
Look at me and me alone. Disregard all the people around you and only pay attention to me. Thame begged internally, as if Po could hear his pleas. Even Thame himself didn't understand why he was so fixated on the human of all things. Out of all the crowd, Po was the only one he could see.
Thame ended his performance as powerful as he started it, overwhelmed by the crowd applause. The performer's eyes shifted between the crowd in a dizzy haze, the sound of all the cheering and chanting ringing in his ear like an uncoordinated symphony. His flames were extinguished as soon as the lights went off, giving Thame the opportunity to retreat to where nobody's eyes could follow him.
“You seem more exhausted than usual, Thame.” The feline-like performer remarked, concerned for his friend.
“Strange since he seemed oddly excited about this particular show.” One of the acrobatic duo chimed in.
“Nano, Dylan. Let him rest.” The serpent, Kaem, commanded with a stern voice enough to warrant obedience.
“My apologies, I could never get used to it; it’ll always take a mental toll on me.” Thame apologized to his friends. He didn't like being perceived, he hated the crowds, he hated having to do this as a means to survive while the fates mocked him for his helplessness after what they've done to him.
“Do us undeads have any other choice other than feed off the human’s aether?” Somnus, whose real name was Pepper, added.
“We’ve been through this several times already, cut it out.” Kaem grumbled, clearly tired of having this exact conversation over and over again. As the eldest amongst them, she had a longer time to come to terms with the fact that she's neither dead nor alive. The rest however, they all died at very young ages, their youngest, Nano, being only 18. And due to a twisted trick by the fates, they became stuck between life and death— a limbo they can't seem to escape. They were eventually left with no choice but to feed off the living’s aether to sustain their dead bodies, in order to prevent them from decaying over time.
While everyone was busy arguing like they usually do, their ringmaster, Jun, was deep in thought; pondering about something he found strange during today’s show. Jun had a stellar memory as well as an excellent attention to the tiniest of details; he could remember each and every audience member, their faces, their reactions, who accompanied them and what they were wearing. Normally the entire stadium would be fast bewitched by the first performance until the undeads had their fill of human aether— which was exactly what happened; except for one particular audience member. It was a guy amongst the audience, seemingly in his twenties; tall, dark hair and a defined figure, fierce yet soft eyes adorning his high cheekbones, plump lips contrasting with a defined jawline and a straight nose. Jun also remembered the viewer had a camera hanging from his neck but he wasn’t taking pictures nor did he fall under their spell— at least not until it was Thame’s turn to perform.
The man perked up at the mention of Thame’s stage name as if he was specifically anticipating him— the stranger was visibly impressed by each and every performance; however, Thame’s show seemed to stand out to him. The spectator in question couldn’t take his eyes off Thame from the minute the flame siren appeared in the ring until his flames were extinguished.
It was as though only Thame could put him under a spell while he’s fully immune to the rest, but even when he was under said spell he didn’t look as unconscious as the rest . Jun found it strange, however he couldn’t afford to dwell on it for now since they had more pressing matters at hand.
“He sent a letter urging us to wrap things up here and go back.’’ The serpent siren revealed as she held the letter in question in her hands.
“That’s too soon don’t you think?” Thame protested.
“Master needs us, Thame.’’ She said as she handed him the letter to read through it himself.
Thame grabbed the letter from the older woman and gave it a quick read. The performer’s face shifted from dissatisfied to taken aback then concerned. The letter didn’t have much content save for two short lines, ominous enough to warrant confusion and concern.
——————————————————————————————
Come back home at once,
There has been a disturbance in the order of the Endless.
— The puppeteer
——————————————————————————————
The master of the undead, also referred to as the Puppeteer or King of Puppets, was the real master of the circus, the one who gave them the power to feed off the living and sustain their bodies enough to preserve their original forms, the true master of this game. Of course, his boons came with a heavy price, the kind of price you’d have to be desperate for a relief from your agonizing slow death in order to agree to pay. The puppeteer preyed upon the desperate and vulnerable, they made the perfect puppets for him to marionette to do his bidding. That said, to have a letter addressed to the phantoms directly from their master must mean the situation was dire.
However, in order to maintain his control over the undead; he established the Endless. None of the troupe was fond of it as it essentially enforced a system of hierarchy between the undead, wherein the rewards were heavily dependent on how much the undead were willing to sacrifice the living in order to survive— safe to say the troupe was at the bottom of said hierarchy.
“Tomorrow will be the last show. We will head back before the sunrise.” Kaem instructed. Everyone nodded in understanding except Thame; he didn’t want to leave yet, he hadn’t spent enough time with Po— he wanted to see him at least one more time.
Po was woken up by the constant ringing of his phone— he opened his eyes with an annoyed grumble and a few select curse words, he winced the second the sunlight hit his eyes. He reached for his phone on the nightstand beside him, cursing whoever woke him up from his deep slumber while his eyes adjusted to the morning light. He stopped cursing when he saw his best friend’s name on his screen.
“This better be worth disrupting my sleep for.’’ He warned his friend as soon as he picked the phone.
“Are you still asleep?!” Baifern exclaimed rather than question. “It’s the last show today. We need to be there before nightfall.” It took Po a minute to process what show his friend was talking about, then Thame’s face flashed before his eyes, a smirk drawn on his pretty face, his whispering voice ringing like a sweet tune in Po’s ears. “From earth to Po, are you there?” Fern called for him after a few moments of silence, Po snapped out of his trance upon his friend calling.
“Where are you right now?” The photographer questioned.
“At the market. Be ready in twenty minutes, okay?”
“Fine.” Po grumbled, faking annoyance before hanging up the phone.
In reality, Po was looking forward to it but he couldn’t admit it to Baifern, he wanted to see Thame perform once more. Thame and his flames were all Po could think about both in his wake and slumber. Thame was beautiful, shrouded in mystery, he danced gracefully as he sang like there’s no tomorrow. Then there’s the drastic change in his aura and overall demeanor when he was under the spotlight; making Po question which one was the real Thame if either of them was him at all. The photographer was aware of his infatuation growing into obsession, he wanted to know everything he possibly can about Thame before he leaves and Po will never see him again.
The arena was as flashy and loud as it was the other day, the crowd cheering, the lights blinding, the performances leaving the audience breathless. However, for Po he was anticipating one performer in particular, the one he couldn’t get out of his head no matter how hard he tried— and at last came the turn of the flame siren, Thame.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and everyone in between. Give a round of applause for our main event— Apollo.” The ringmaster introduced Thame like he did yesterday and the crowd cheered in unison as if they merged into a single entity.
And with a single gesture from the ringmaster, Jupiter, the lights went out enshrouding the arena in pure darkness, meanwhile the audience fell silent, anticipating.
Po’s eyes immediately found what he was seeking once the lights flickered back on revealing an ever so dazzling Thame, standing tall at the centre of the arena without his mask. He held his head high as he searched the crowd until he met Po’s eyes. The performer kept his eyes on Po, he suddenly smiled, a smile so strange with desperation gleaning in his eyes while he held his hands high, as if he was trying to reach for Po, as if he was praying and Po was his deity. The photographer felt a chill running down his spine.
Why? Of all the people in the crowd, adoring and chanting your name, you still gaze at me like I’m the only one you see? Looking up upon me like I’m the God you worship so devotedly?
Po couldn’t help but question. Po was less than ordinary, he wasn’t the type to stand out anywhere, nothing was particularly interesting about him; so why were Thame’s eyes fixed on him the entire time? He also wondered why Thame didn’t have his mask on when he -and everyone else- was wearing one yesterday? When he said they need to hide their identities? No matter how much Po tried to understand, to find answers to his questions, to rationalize Thame’s actions; he only ended up with more questions than he initially had.
The flame siren began singing while still maintaining eye-contact with Po, one which the mortal didn’t dare to break for even a fraction of a second. Then other masked performers in uniform masks and outfits emerged from the shadows, running around in what seemed like a staged state of panic, pushing Thame around in chaotic motions while he sang his heart out. Despited getting knocked back over and over again until he fell on his back; he still managed to maintain stable vocals, his eyes unwavering. However, his singing got louder and louder, the raw emotions of the song sending a shiver all over Po’s body. Thame wasn’t dancing this time around, instead he staggered around the arena like a drunkard fool. Even so, something about his movements was entracing; as if telling a story so compelling. A story of a lost soul navigating through a tragedy with a despaired heart, anguished, tormented. No matter how many times he managed to get back up; he still fell to his knees yet again. With a crying, bone-chilling voice he sang a prayer; a prayer to the ones up above to end his agony but to no avail. Eventually, he grovelled as the song came to an end, his hand curling into fists as a cry escaped his throat, then his cries morphed into an ironic chuckle, defeated, then it escalated into a hysteric cackle— frevent in every unsettling matter.
The entire performance was unearthly, something beyond mortal’s comprehension; even so, Po felt his chest tightening, as if his ribcage contracted just to squeeze his heart. The mortal held his hand to his heart, beating on it multiple times in a desperate attempt to lessen the pain, but his attempts were futile. Po looked around him, his eyes frantically searching for someone, anyone he could ask for help but everyone was… silent, their eyes were still open, they were breathing yet they all looked lifeless. He tried to call for Baifern who was sitting beside him in a state that was no different than the rest, but his voice wasn’t coming out. He couldn’t reach her despite being mere inches apart.
His breath accelerated alongside the violent palpitations of his heart forcing his vision to go hazy and his body restless. His eyes fluttered shut in hopes this was not but a nightmare that will end soon, he’ll wake up to his sister annoying him, to his mother asking him to go grocery shopping, to Baifern dragging him out of bed to go and have breakfast together before they head back to work. Then Thame’s face flashed before his eyes— Thame wearing a smile full of agony, tears running down his cheeks.
He didn’t understand nor did like what was happening to him; pain was unbearable.
Po felt an embrace enveloping him like a warm blanket with a distant voice speaking words he couldn’t decipher to him. He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes so he tried to focus on the voice in an attempt to drown his fear.
“Po plea— stay— me. Don’t— ye—’’ The words spoken to him made no sense, the voice was barely intelligible yet he somehow felt safe. At least until all his senses completely blacked out as he fell unconscious.
“Are you insane, Thame? Why would you bring this mortal here?” The serpent scolded the boy in question for his recklessness. “He isn't supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be at the tent with the rest!”
“I’m sorry I couldn't leave him there.” Thame responded in a voice so low he could barely hear it himself. He knew it was selfish of him, he knew he wasn’t supposed to do it but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Po in there to be devoured with the rest.
“You do realize that the master will not be pleased by this? And it won't end well for you. For any of us for that matter.” Jun stated the obvious.
They all knew what kind of punishment awaits them if they get entangled with the living , especially those whom they were supposed to feed off. Let alone bringing said mortal to their domain.
“I turned a blind eye when you decided to go out during the day to see him, then overlooked some more when you revealed your real name to him and when you decided to perform unmasked just for him— but you’ve gone too far with this, with him” Kaem pointed at the passed out Po lying peacefully in Thame’s bed.
Thame shifted his gaze to the mortal, the image of him suffering in pain at the arena flashing before the undead’s eyes, causing his sleeping cold heart to ache. Po didn’t have to be there, he shouldn’t have— but he was there to see Thame, and Thame would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to see the mortal.
Thame was selfish, too selfish that he wanted Po to be there to watch him, to admire him, to be bewitched by Thame, to be amongst the crowd ; yet, he didn’t want Po to be devoured by the Endless— he wanted to be the only to feed off him, he also didn’t want to feed off any human but Po. He was aware of how sick and twisted his desires were— but he couldn’t help it when the mortal made him feel alive for the first time ever after decades of being nothing more than an empty shell of what remained of himself, a corpse walking amongst the living.
Po was the only peace in Thame’s living hell; he made this horror show of a life bearable on Thame for the short time he knew him so the siren wasn’t going to give him up no matter what— even with the knowledge that the two of them were fundamentally different in every possible sense, even the realms of which they exist within were poles apart. Despite all of it, the performer still wanted to hold onto Po for as long as he could.
“What exactly are you trying to achieve? Even after saving him from being devoured he still won’t be the same person when he wakes up.” Pepper pointed out as if Thame didn’t know that— as if it wasn’t already eating on him.
Thame bit his lower lips, unable to form a coherent answer, he didn’t one to begin with. Not with the heavy weight of his friends’ dispproving gazes.
“He’s.. different from the rest of them. I can’t..think straight when he’s around, with his gaze focused on me.” He reluctantly answered, unable to make sense of his own words. “However, I’m willing to accept whatever consequences I must pay for my decision.”
“You do realize they will be dire; the price will be heavy, you won’t be able to bear them alone.” Dylan spoke up. Thame avoided his gaze.
“Besides, we have to go back in a few hours, so we have no time to deal with this at the moment.” Jun pointed out.
He was right, they were summoned by their master to tend to the Endless.
The Endless was sacred to them as it sustained all the undead and gave them their power to enchant the living to feed; it granted them abilities they would’ve never dreamed of otherwise— most importantly, it bestowed them with immortality. Nevertheless, it made for a tool for the higher ranked to assert their dominance on the less powerful of the undead. The Endless was established by their master three centuries ago, it consists of nine ranks with different power scales and powers granted by the Endless; the ninth and lowest rank being void dwellers, they’re the nobodies of the undead, the hold not a single silver of significance in the Endless— they can only survive off of scraps of aether. Stalkers of the Living were eighth place in the hierarchy; they served one purpose and purpose only and it was finding sources with sufficient supply of aether, nothing more, nothing less. Then there was the Plague Dancers and Death Singers, the seventh and sixth ranks respectively of which Thame and his friends in the troupe belonged to; the dancers and singers were tasked with enchanting the living in order to extract their aether— once they complete their mission, the living become as good as dead. Stealing lives to sustain ones that were long lost long ago was their purpose within the Endless. Accursed Knights and Heralds of the Undying were the maintainers of the deathly orders, ensuring their underlings carried out their assigned missions to absolute perfection— placing them in fifth and fourth in terms of strength and authority. The third in command were the Archdemons; they served directly under the King of Puppets, who held the highest rank amongst the undead, since the second in command, Keepers of the Endless, were entrusted with safekeeping the vault of the Endless. The King of Puppets held the highest rank.
The Endless operated within a structured order wherein everyone had a specific role in extorting aether, sustaining the existence of the undead while upholding a system in which the powerful could easily exploit. It wasn’t ideal, quite in fact, Thame wanted to escape it; but he was a mere helpless puppet. A puppet who had to give up his name and identity, his loved ones, and most importantly; his humanity.
“What the hell is going on here?” The familiar soft voice spoke, his speech shrouded in confusion at best and fear at worst. “Thame? What’s happening?” He asked again but the boy in question was too scared to look at the man speaking to him, he didn’t dare face him; especially not after what Thame put him through while feeding on his life force. Thame deceived and harmed him beyond measure, how on earth could he face him?
“Answer me, Thame— if that’s even truly your name.” Something inside Thame cracked upon hearing the doubt and anguish in Po’s voice, the extent of his own deceit making the mortal question every single word Thame had ever uttered and he couldn’t even blame him. Even then Thame couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word; there was not a single tangible explanation to what he was doing— he wouldn’t be in this situation if he just left po there, but he couldn’t; every fibre in his body was screaming to save the mortal regardless of what consequences followed his decision.
Thame raised his head, looking for his friends just to find out they all left the tent; it was only him and Po in that small space. His heart felt even heavier inside his chest, the pain he felt was immeasurable as if every single bone in his ice cold body came together to crush his unbeating heart.
Moments have passed that felt like an eternity to Po— the longer Thame remained silent; the more antsy, restless and agitated he got. His gaze displayed pain and betrayal rather than fear or anger; one minute he was watching Thame perform and next thing he knew he was in utter anguish, seeking a relief of his agony. Po didn’t understand nor could he comprehend what exactly happened; all he was sure about was that the phantoms were definitely behind it. Now Thame’s spell on him was dispelled; he recalled how the crowd looked lifeless as they watched the troupe perform from beginning to end, including his best friend whom he couldn’t even reach despite being seated next to her— from what he heard from the phantom’s conversation, he was supposed to be devoured in some sort of manner but the methodology was still a mystery to Po. And to think the boy who smiled oh so brightly at him would be a part of this twisted situation hurt him the most.
“Will you stop avoiding me? Will you talk to me?” Po muttered, defeated, absolute desperation evident in his voice.
Thame’s head shot up, finally meeting Po’s eyes after an endless internal struggle; even if he couldn’t face him, even if he couldn’t provide an explanation that would put the mortal’s mind at ease— he still had to. The siren’s heart sank upon seeing tears streaming down Po’s cheeks, trembling while looking up at Thame, the capillaries of eyes almost bursting trying to hold back his anguished cries. Without even thinking, Thame’s legs started walking on their own towards Po, his arms slowly reaching to the mortal to envelop him in what Thame hoped to be a comforting embrace. His hands running up and down Po’s back in a gentle caressing motion, he still couldn’t find proper words but he hoped his embrace would convey what he felt to Po. Thame’s irises dilated in surprise when Po reciprocated, he wrapped his arms around the siren’s torso, seeking solace in the warmth of his dead, freezing cold body with his face buried in the crook of Thame’s neck.
“Po,” Thame finally found his voice, the man in question tightened his hold on the siren in response, encouraging the undead to keep his embrace. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, I promise. I just don’t know how to articulate it at the moment, besides, I don’t think you can take it all at your current state.” He spoke as softly as humanly possible, his touch immensely gentle; as though Po would crack and crumble beneath him if he wasn’t careful enough with the mortal’s fragile shell.
“I just want to understand, Thame. I want to know what you are and what’s the meaning of all of this.” Po’s voice came out trembling, he sounded beyond shattered and confused as he clung to the fabric on Thame’s back for his dear life.
Thame hesitated before he gave a clear answer, “I’m neither dead nor alive, I’m a being that’s stuck in a limbo between life and death. A walking corpse if you will.” He knew he sounded insane to Po but it was up to the mortal whether or not to believe his words. He felt Po shifting under his embrace, clearly taken aback and trying to process whatever Thame said. Yet, he didn’t pull away; he remained in place, as though he feared Thame would disappear the second he let go.
“Before I explain any further, I’m going to tell you a story first.” Po hummed to signal Thame to keep going. “There once was a boy, so small and so innocent. However, he was doomed with misfortune since his birth; it followed him wherever he went. His mother died giving birth to him, his father went into an immense state of grief and depression; he was in denial about what happened to his wife, he lost himself in substance abuse to escape his pain but all it did was turn him into a violent man. He started abusing his son, blaming him for his wife’s pitiful fate. He beat him, locked him up in the basement for days. Then the house was caught on fire, causing the death of the father while his son survived— and what followed that tragedy was devastation of its own. The boy was labelled as a symbol of bad fortune by his village folks, they chased him with blades and firearms, they beat him up in the streets, they called him names, accused him of harboring pure evil even though he was but a mere child who happened to be born to unfortunate circumstances.” Thame paused to swallow the lump stuck in his throat at the recollection of his own past. “They blamed him for every misfortune that took place in the village.” He paused again in order to compose himself.
No matter how long it was or how little Thame remembered of his past; his pain remained the same.
“Eventually, in a fit of rage; he was murdered.” He choked on the last word, his eyes losing focus as they were taken over by sorrow. “And the worst part was that he was soon forgotten. He wasn’t even mourned.” Although it was physically impossible for him; Thame wanted to cry. He wanted to cry over his lost humanity, his immeasurable pain, his immense tragedy. He wanted to shed tears for the suffering his forgotten former self went through without getting a sliver of justice, without the perpetrators feeling an ounce of remorse. “Not even in death the boy could find his salvation; due to a twisted turn of fate, he was turned into an empty shell of his mortal self— a walking corpse we call the undead. Unable to die, unable to live. He existed in sheer agony, his anguish only grew as his body slowly decayed day by day, he couldn’t rest peacefully. He was and still incapable of shedding tears.”
Po attempted to hold Thame closer to him than he already was, as if trying to merge their bodies into one. The mortal’s heart shattered into millions of pieces, he couldn’t help but cry his eyes out. Eventually he broke their hug to cup Thame’s face between his hands— warm and comforting. He gazed into Thame’s eyes with a different emotion Thame couldn’t decipher; it wasn't pity— it was akin to sorrow, perhaps anger on Thame’s behalf. Po held him firm and secure between his hands like Thame would escape his grasp at any second.
“If you feel pain; I’ll bear it with you. If you can’t cry; I’ll cry for you, grieve and mourn for you. If you can't live; I’ll live for you. If you’re doomed; I’ll bring my own demise so I can be doomed with you. This nightmare of an existence, I’ll bear its burdens with you. ” Po vowed, his gaze expressing unyielding devotion to the immortal.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Thame tried to reject him but he couldn't even look Po in the eye as he answered him.
“Then tell me— I’m all ears for you.” The mortal insisted.
Thame couldn’t understand why Po was going this far, he was supposed to be the one explaining to a confused Po but the mortal’s behavior bewildered him instead and left him with head-spinning . Even though he knew about the mortal’s infatuation with him from the beginning, as everyone else was— but it was the effect of his spell, wasn’t it?
“I’m not the innocent victim you think I am. I’m the plague that took your friend’s life away.” He declared with a -an attempted- glare. Yet somehow Po could see right through him.
“Then why did you save me? When I was meant to die there with her. When you know there will be dire consequences according to your friends.” Po countered. Thame’s eyes widened, indicating that Po was on the right track.
“Your trust in me is misguided.” Thame attempted to argue again. He didn’t want to sink any deeper in this affair with the mortal, he wanted to shut it down so he can go back to existing without a purpose.
“Your eyes are saying otherwise, Thame.” He whispered his name.
“If I show you the skeletons in my closet will you still think the same of me? If I let you in on my sins will you still trust me?” Po nodded. Not once did his conviction waiver.
Despite his attempts at pushing Po away, Thame knew deep down he wanted this; he wanted Po around him at all times. Po filled Thame with intense warmth he’d never felt before, he made him feel alive, he gave meaning to otherwise a dull existence.
Thame had lost his humanity long ago, he forgot his name, his memories, his previous existence when he still could call it a life— if it wasn’t for Kaem being a witness he wouldn’t have found out about his own past or his name. Once he became undead, the alias ‘Apollo’ was bestowed upon him by their master which was the name he’d always gone by. And yet, Po constantly calling him by a name he wasn’t even allowed by the laws of the Endless to remember felt so right. The mortal restored his ability to feel things beside pain.
“I consume the lives of the living to survive. I—” Thame confessed as he attempted to turn his face away from Po so he wouldn’t meet his eyes but the mortal was too quick holding his face in place. “I and my folks feed off the living until they become hollow— that’s the way of the undead.”
“Then you can have mine. It belongs to you.”
Po pressed his forehead on Thame’s gently, the tip of their noses touching as their breaths blended into one. The mortal was even warmer this close. And for the first time ever in decades, Thame felt the beating of his own heart despite his organs ceasing to function long ago, including his cardiovascular system. It was strange, Po was strange and the effect he had on Thame was even stranger; no book on the undead had ever explained this.
“Then you can’t blame me if I become greedy.” Thame decided to take him up on his offer, throwing every ounce of sensibility and laws of the Endles out of the window. At the end of the day he was a plague dancer— he’s meant to eat selfishly whatever comes his way.
Thame closed the few inches separating them by locking his cold lips with Po’s. The mortal was quick to reciprocate— as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. The kiss was slow, layered with a thin film of uncertainty, yet the hunger was still evident. Initially, their lips moved in uncoordinated motion, scared and uncertain. However, it didn’t take long until they found a rhythm that worked for the both of them. Their lips moved against each other, wet and hungry, and soon enough Thame started biting on Po’s lower lip forcing a moan out of him. Thame didn’t understand himself either but he wanted to eat, devour Po in every possible sense.
Thame’s hands moved from Po’s back to the underside of his shirt, the mortal’s eye closed shut as he winced at the coldness of Thame’s hands— he didn’t mind it, he just was startled by the sudden cold touch. Po’s hands travelled from Thame’s cheeks to his chest, he tugged tightly on the fabric of the siren’s clothes. The mortal’s breath was hot against Thame’s mouth, his body even hotter underneath Thame’s lustful touch— in every possible sense.
Thame held Po’s shoulder with his free hand to guide the human to lay on the bed again while he hovered over him. They pulled apart to catch their breath. Thame watched the mortal’s chest heaving, gasping for air with his bruised mouth wide open beneath him— he looked divine. Po was beautiful, the most beautiful person Thame had ever laid his eyes on, he was perfect in Thame’s eyes, quite in fact, the epitome of perfection.
The performer grabbed Po’s shirt by the hem removing the piece of clothing with a swift motion, exposing the mortal’s entire torso. Po’s body looked divine, as though he was meticulously sculpted by the Gods. Thame took the liberty to touch the naked body beneath him, his hand gliding from Po’s neck to his chest, then down to his belly. Then he left a trail of wet kisses starting from Po’s ears, moving to his jawline, then his chin, after that he moved down to his neck giving Po’s Adam apple a quick suck— earning a satisfying whine from Po. However, Thame was greedy, he was even greedier for Po. The siren continued to the mortal’s collarbone, tracing one side bone with his thumb as he planted kisses alongside the hollow of the other. Po wrapped his arms around Thame’s shoulders, his body slightly moving up and down in blissful ecstasy. The mortal let out an incomplete ‘fuck~’ when Thame reached his breasts; he ran his tongue over Po’s nipples, eating at them like a malnourished boy— Po’s whines and muffled curses turning into all sorts of perverted moans. His noises were heavenly sinful and Thame would be a fool to not crave for more.
The mortal’s hands were conditioned to move to Thame’s hair as the boy on top of him got lower and lower with his kisses, accompanied by licks, sucks and bites here and there until Po’s body became all bruised and blemished. Even with red and blue bruising; his body still maintained its divinity— nothing could ever stain this celestial work, Thame was certain.
“Thame~” Po moaned with a trembling voice, begging for more than kisses and love bites.
“Be patient.” Thame instructed. More to himself than to Po.
Truth be told; Thame wasn’t any better— he was more impatient than Po, he wanted to fuck him senseless right then and there but he still wanted to savor everything he could first as he’d never tasted something like this nor did he ever experience this kind of ravaging lust towards another being before. His entire being tingled, yearning, aching for the mortal.
“Po,” Thame held the mortal’s face with one hand while the other supported his weight as he hovered above the human, he gazed at him with hungry, famished even, half-shut eyes “Goddess above!!” He exclaimed, “You’re so fucking beautiful, divine even that I want to eat you whole, to keep you all for my self, to hide you from prying eyes.” He confessed with a hunger-induced voice; there was no denying his arousal.
“I already told you, my life is all yours.” Po answered, completely intoxicated by his own lust, his erection growing at the praise and adoration coming out of Thame’s lips.
Thame didn’t have to be told twice to do whatever he pleased to the man underneath him, who completely surrendered his fate to the siren. Thame cuffed Po’s wrists above his head with one hand as the other found its way to Po’s bottoms. He unzipped them with a deliberate motion meant to aggravate the human, to get him whiny and desperate— which seemed to work.
“Nghh,” A whine escaped Po’s lips the second Thame’s hand creeped underneath his pants to stroke his erection. His noises grew louder and louder the more pressure Thame applied on his length. However, his moans were quickly muffled with a quick plunge from Thame’s lips— kissing Po as sloppily and as filthily as possible just to feed his hunger for the mortal.
Thame mounted the high of this thrillride, a euphoria beyond any measures. Po made him feel like no other; he nourished Thame’s stab of hunger, made him feel alive again, made his heart beat again, engulfed his cold body in a blanket of warmth that not even the sun could ever compete with. Po was everything Thame craved and more so it was only natural that Thame longed to devour every inch of his living body.
Po’s hips heaved in a desperate attempt at chasing his own climax but Thame was quick to shut it down by pinning him in place by his waist.
“Now, now, I said don’t be impatient; otherwise you won’t be rewarded.” Thame whispered in Po’s ear provocatively, it sent a shiver down the mortal’s spine as the cold hands of the performer ghosted over the soft skin of his body. Po swallowed at how alluring Thame sounded in his ear. Meanwhile, Thame was busy savouring every taste he had, every hot, desperate touch he felt, every pleasure-dazed moan coming from the delicately beautiful man beneath him.
Every practised touch from Thame sent a new wave of an undefined amount of pleasure coursing through his body like consecutive electric shocks. Po crumbled as Thame tinkered with his mortal, fragile body, completely surrendering himself; both body and soul to the performer. The mortal dug his nails into Thame’s back, holding for his dear life— unable to see clearly nor comprehend his surroundings any longer due to his lustful haze.
Incoherent profanities after the other breaking out of Po’s mouth upon feeling his orgasm approaching, he dug his nail into the immortal’s back signalling the nearing of his climax. Thame didn’t need a single other word to understand so with a quick motion he fastened his pace until Po’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his back arching in burning bliss, his mouth gaped wide open as he cried Thame’s name out loud as he came.
Po embraced Thame closer to him while he descended from the high of his orgasm with a trembling body and uncoordinated pulse. He gasped for air in hopes it’d help regulate his racing heart beat.
“You did so well.” Thame praised while caressing the soft locks of Po’s hair.
“What about you?” Po asked, still trying to catch his breath.
“I can’t even if I wanted to so don’t worry about me.” Thame assured the mortal while slowly reaching for his cheek to caress it as gently as possible, planting soft kisses and pecks on Po’s eyes, nose and the corners of his lips. “Besides, hearing you cry out my name, touching you, tasting you is more than enough for me to be satisfied.” A blush creeped on Po’s face at the confession. “That’s the most heavenly I’ve ever felt, as though I was touching God.” Thame looked Po in the eye while he uttered the last part, and the mortal just melted right then and there.
Po shifted beneath Thame, he loosened his embrace so his hands could find their way to the immortal’s face, he cupped his cheeks so delicately.
“I’ve never felt this desired in my entire life before.” Po admitted between flustred laughter, earning a soft smile from the other
“I’m glad; so only I can perceive you and keep you for myself.” His eyes shining amber in a newfound passion.
“You’re quite possessive aren’t you?” Po giggled. He liked it, loved it even.
To have a beautiful being such as Thame worshipping him, adoring every part of his body, all while being territorial and possessive of Po; it gave the mortal a strange sense of satisfaction. He was beyond pleased to have Thame full of hunger for him and him only. Overwhelmed with pride over the fact he’s the only one who could make Thame become full of life, radiant and his heart beating when it wasn’t supposed to.
Regardless of how much Thame wanted to remain in Po’s arms, basking in the peace and warmth the mortal exuded; at the end of the day, Thame was never meant to stay— it was never meant to get this far to begin with. Thame’s smile dropped at the bitter realization. As much as he wanted to stay there with Po in their little bubble; he was nothing but a walking corpse, stuck in the order of the Endless to serve a power hungry dictator, forced to play his role to perfection while following an excessive number of strict rules and regulations— one of which forbidding the undead from tinkering with the living; and Thame carelessly broke that rule, fully knowing the consequences that would soon follow.
Then there was their master’s order regarding the order; concerning the matter of the defect that occured in the Endless, a problem they had to resolve before the entire order starts crashing down, causing an immeasurable damage to every entity bound to the Endless. Thame had to go back to tend to his assigned duty, he needed to meet up with the rest to figure out what was happening before things could get out of hand.
“Are you okay?” Po noticed the shift in Thame’s demeanor.
“Don’t worry, dearest.” Thame had to put on a fake smile alongside his white lie to convince the mortal; he didn’t want to get him involved any further. He assured the mortal while tucking the few stray hair strands behind his ears, planting soft kisses on his fluttering eyelids.
Po knew Thame was lying, he could see it; the worry and anxiety in his eyes couldn’t escape the mortal’s notice even if he tried to turn a blind eye, the change in his facial expressions was enough evidence. He could feel it in his gut that there was something bigger than the both of them brewing, especially knowing what he knows now. Yet, he wanted to remain in his oblivious bliss for a while longer.