Fallen By Blood And Love

Chapter 3: Cruelty

One Week Later

In the empty alley, the same gang of thugs from before were gathered, clustered together. One dyed his hair green, another red, one still had bandages wrapped around his face — the wound from Bảo’s attack hadn’t healed.

“Damn it, we waited a week and still haven’t seen those two dogs from before. If I catch them, I’ll mince them for the dogs.”

The biggest one, green-haired, hissed in anger.

“I’ve been looking for them these past few days. The little one’s laid up in Uncle Bay’s place, the big one’s been hiding there after work, not going anywhere. If I get the chance, I’ll gut him.”

The redhead inhaled his cigarette and exhaled smoke as he spoke.

The bandaged guy ground his teeth, voice sharp:

“I’m telling you, that little one’s mine. Anyone who tries to take him, I’ll die fighting ’em.”

The group kept buzzing, plotting about the two brothers, Thiện and Bảo.

In the dim corner, a thin figure sat wrapped in bandages, a kitchen knife gripped in his hand. His eyes were sharp, fixed on the gang; the corner of his mouth twitched as he licked his lips, hunger and longing flickering there.

“Hold on, I gotta piss. Damn, drank too much.”

One of them swayed to his feet, unsteady from liquor.

“Don’t aim it into the piss pool, asshole!”

Another teased.

“Remember to save me a hit for the pipe, ya dog!”

The man heading off glanced back, flipped them the bird:

“f**k you all.”

He staggered toward the shadowed spot by the utility pole, unzipped and leaned back against the wall, face relaxing in pleasure.

The sound of urine splashing ran steady in the quiet alley. He closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

While he was still fumbling, cleaning himself up… suddenly the small silhouette appeared.

A cold hand snatched his manhood, clamped tight.

The thug snapped his head up, lips curling into an ugly grin.

“Snick.”

The sound of the knife cutting through flesh sliced the night, and with it the thug’s astonished expression. He didn’t understand at first what had happened; only when he looked down did a cold shock race up his nerves into his brain, followed by an indescribable, searing pain that made his vision spin.

“Ah…! Thuck!?”

Before a scream could fully form, the small shadow had shoved the bleeding thing straight into his mouth.

The thug managed a few muffled sounds, eyes bulging as he stared at the small dark figure. He couldn’t believe what had happened in an instant — could not believe the thing he prized like gold had been cut off and shoved into his own mouth. Even less believable: the hand that did it belonged to the kid they’d beaten days ago until he couldn’t cry out.

Yes — the small figure, cold-eyed and with an expression of hungry longing, was Bảo.

He raised the blood-smeared knife to his lips and licked it.

“s**t, this blood smells so good, better than chicken or fish blood.”

He laughed, clutching his face, watching the thug clutching his severed, blood-soaked groin while gagging, the mutilated thing stuffed in his mouth. To him the man was no longer a person of flesh and bone but a plaything to satiate his vengeful desire.

He crouched down, hand over the thug’s nose and mouth, drove the knife into the man’s throat. Warm blood spurted from the wound, splattering his hands and face; he took a perverse pleasure and twisted the blade in deeper. The thug convulsed and writhed; Bảo climbed on top of him, pressing his mouth close to the man’s ear and whispered.

“Your blood smells divine, damn it — I’m addicted now.”

He pulled the knife out, letting the blood shoot in a fountain; he opened his mouth to let it flow in, face rapt as he stared into the terrified, bulging eyes of the thug.

“Let’s keep going — I’ll help you feel it, the sin of daring to touch what belongs to me. Don’t worry, I’m experienced; I won’t let you die right away.”

Bảo murmured just loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He raised the bloodied kitchen knife high, drove it into the thug’s belly, twisting again and again, a satisfied, silent smile on his face.

By then the thug had no strength left to struggle; his body went limp, responding only with reflex. He stared fixedly at Bảo, feeling he had been subjected to a cruelty so complete that, at that last moment, as his life ebbed away, he thought:

“He’s a demon… he’s a demon…!!!”

The thought replayed in his head; his fury turned to fear, then resignation — he knew he was certain to die.

“What’s taking you so long, did the little guy piss himself?”

A companion’s voice called from a distance.

Bảo frowned in mild annoyance and looked at his prey, now no longer twitching, eyes clouded with veins like lifeless threads; the man was utterly spent.

“Sigh, the party’s over — gotta go. Can’t play with you anymore. Thanks, you made me feel very happy and satisfied.”

He offered a genuine-looking smile, eyes full of gratitude fixed on the thug, then bowed his head deeply as if in thanks.

“Snick.”

The dull scrape of the knife on bone sounded; the thug seized once and then went completely limp, his eyes still staring at Bảo, horror frozen on his face before his final breath.

Bảo — soaked in blood — stood, glanced toward the approaching companion, then slowly melted back into the darkness with an ambiguous smile on his lips.