BLOODSPORT	*BLOODSPORT*
 *By GILDA LILY*
 
 Pairing: M/M
 Rating: NC-17
 Warning: Sexual violence, madness, darkness of the soul.
 (c) October 3, 1998
 
 *The figure in the chair tightened the glassine beads that twisted
 around his fingers. The hard beads cut into his skin. Blood dripped as
 his mouth widened into a grotesque smile.
 
 The room was big and dark. Only the center of it was illuminated,
 the spotlight shining on the two entwined there. Both were exhausted,
 covered in sperm, blood and sweat. They held each other with a
 desperation. He lifted his hand, the signal producing the black-clad
 figure from the darkness that surrounded the light. One muscular arm
 lifted the whip and was brought down on tender flesh, the crack!
 exciting the Watcher. So did the cry of pain. Slender limbs jerked, and
 his companion held up an arm to stave off the blows.
 
 "Penitence," murmured the Watcher.
 
 The whip was strong and fast. Blood ran, and the Watcher leaned
 forward. Another signal. Another stepped from the darkness, pouring
 something down from the pot he held. The Slender One screamed.
 
 "Salt in the wounds," whispered the Watcher.
 
 Open wounds, left to fester for years. Rubbing it in, day after
 day after day. Using the flesh-of-his-flesh to do it first, then the
 Pale One. Perfection in ruby, sapphires glowing, lighting emeralds to
 shine like the beacons of nighttime Chicago. Or like the somber lights
 of Rome.
 
 The Slender One shuddered, the Pale One sliding his arms around
 him and kissing him as the Slender One covered his body. Moans, tears,
 a new salt running down to mingle with the burning salt. The Pale One
 suddenly flipped them over and twitched as the whip stung, taking the
 blows for his beloved.
 
 Scarlet running down in rivulets, turning silver in the glare of
 the spotlight. Pale silver ribbons. Icy water. Ice Queen of the
 North.
 
 Limbs entwined, tongues dueled, hands roamed.
 
 "Sin," whispered the Watcher.
 
 They moved and writhed while the whip rained down. Seed spilled,
 mingling...
 
 "Sinners." The Watcher's obsidian eyes glowed. Fire crackled,
 deep in the depths. The beads drew more blood. "Sinners. Penitence."
 
 He signalled. Several melted from the darkness. Large, naked,
 gleaming. Smiles of pure wickedness. Wielders Of Penitence. Scourgers
 Of Flesh. Punishers Of Betrayers.
 
 They pulled the Pale One off his lover, and the Slender One
 screamed. Two held him while the other was dragged, pinned, parted.
 The Punishers wielded their rods, the Pale One crying.
 
 The Slender One's cries mingled with the Pale One's. He turned
 and held out a hand. Pleading, begging, tears running as the blood ran
 in silver rivulets.
 
 The Watcher brought up the beads and kissed the crucifix. Ashes
 to ashes, dust to dust, blood to blood. A long-ago love that was once
 pure and then turned to dust. Vengeance, Violence, Vendetta.
 
 "I told you never to walk away from me, Ray," Frankie whispered as
 the light in his eyes burned...*
 
 * * * * * *
 
 FRANKIE'S DREAM?
 or
 RAY'S NIGHTMARE?
 
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