Dorian's Destiny: Altered (4 page)

Placing the blame for his predicament solely
on who he felt abandoned him, he expressed his discontent readily.
“So, God, You won't let me die, but I don't have the skills to
survive either. Do You want me to starve? Maybe You just want me to
suffer? But aren't You supposed to be merciful? Where is Your
Mercy, Father? Your Love? Why do You continue to forsake me?”
Dorian screamed, throwing his hands up in disgust before continuing
to sulk quietly in the black of night.

Near dawn, he found an outcropping of rock
to protect himself from daylight. Lying underneath, he had just
closed his eyes when he heard the familiar sound of padded feet.
This time, he played possum. Remaining perfectly still, he felt a
cold nose graze his upper arm. Peeking through squinted lids, he
lunged as the coyote attempted to take its first bite of an easy
meal.

“Yelp!”

Grasping the animal around the throat, he
snapped its neck with a quick twist. Not desiring a mouthful of
matted fur, he sliced open the creature’s neck with one of his
claws. Cupping under the gash, he let the hot blood fill his hands.
Before lifting them to his mouth to drink, he gazed up to the
heavens. “This is for you, Father,” he toasted

Drinking
the blood was intoxicating. He leaned back on the
rocks, relishing the sensation.

*****

For weeks, Dorian played possum to attract
his kills. Smearing the blood of his last victim on his own body,
he would lie in wait for the next unsuspecting scavenger.
Eventually tiring from playing the part of the prey, he switched
tactics. Masking his scent with the blood of his victims, he
climbed up nearby trees to pounce on his next meal. The stench of
each rotting carcass stung his nostrils, forcing him to relocate to
another section of forest after each kill. Soon, half the forest
was littered with corpses in various states of decay; transforming
the lush landscape into a massive graveyard.

Dorian hoped each life taken was a slap in
God’s Face; payback for His betrayal. Although proud of his
handiwork thus far, just killing God's Creatures wasn't enough. He
wanted to tear down EVERYTHING God had made.

“Thou art worthy, O Lord,
to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all
things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created,”
Dorian mockingly recited Revelation 4:11.
“
Ha! Here's a revelation
of my own. Since You have turned Your Back on me, Father, I will
defile Your Creation for the rest of my existence. An eye for an
eye, a tooth for a tooth; one betrayal for another, it will be my
pleasure to destroy all that You have created, because I deem You
unworthy. I will turn this entire forest into a wasteland – a Hell
on earth.”

Desiring to cause as much suffering as
possible, Dorian stopped slaughtering and instead, maimed to feed
his hunger and hatred, blessing his victims with slow, painful
deaths. Wanting to destroy all of God's Creations, he didn't just
target God's animals. All life in the forest felt Dorian's wrath.
Using his razor sharp claws, he sliced through tree after tree,
just enough for them to slowly wither.

“How do you like the dark transformation of
this forest, Father? I find it a mediocre representation of my own.
I'm sure I'll get it right though, because I'm not going to stop.
Do You hear me? I'm NEVER going to stop!”

For months, he continued his destruction of
God's Creations, turning the forest into the living hell he
promised. Seeing this last attempt to put an end to his misery was
a failure, he spoke to God one last time.

“I hoped that by committing these sins and
mocking Your Name, You would have the nerve to strike me down.
However, I can plainly see that You care not for any of Your
Creations, especially me. From this moment on, I will no longer
speak to You, or even speak Your Name. You are as dead to me as I
am apparently dead to You.”

Dorian stalked away, deeper
into seclusion, turning his back completely on everything and
everyone he had faith in. He knew he would survive; he didn't have
a choice. He resolved himself with the knowledge that he was
destined for a sorrowful, meaningless existence for all of eternity
– God's apparent reward for his love and life of
service.

Thomas stood in the shadow of an ash tree
dressed head to toe in black, checking on the progress of who he
had dubbed 'the stray' or 'It'. Unfortunately, the progress was
pretty much nonexistent.

He has strayed so far from his
potential.

Lacking all the comforts he was accustomed
to, he absolutely despised these far too frequent trips to the
wilderness.

I need a bath, or some
alcohol, or a cigarette – maybe all three at the same time –
anything to help take my mind of this pathetic place and that
miserable excuse for an enhanced being. Why am I even here anyway?
This is such a waste of my time.

Thomas possessed a deficient attention span
which he considered both a blessing and a curse. Not able to stay
for more than a few hours at a time, he had probably not even
invested a whole week to his observation of the stray over the past
six months. However, that was plenty to see that ‘It’ was on a
continuous downward spiral.

Ruminating over all he had
seen, revealed quite a few lackluster periods mixed with fleeting
of promise. Those were just enough to warrant his returns. Thomas
was shocked by how long it took for the blood lust to take hold. He
would become excited when 'It' fed on the rabbit, but then the
weeping and pleading with God made him want to vomit. The failed
suicide attempt was glorious – all the pain, anger and blood.
Following the trail of blood and fabric left in the wake of this
failed attempt lead him to the sacred place where the stray finally
unleashed his true self.

All the murder and violence he committed
after that sent chills down my spine. I thought for sure my wait
was over, that he had finally let go of his former human existence,
but no, he still clung to his morality. He had only committed those
beautiful acts to tempt God into retribution. So sad…and here we
are now, wandering the forest, desolate, no purpose. I don’t know
how much more I can watch. I'd hoped the stray would come around on
his own.

Finally coming to terms that his stray had
plateaued, Thomas decided to make himself known. After six long
months of slinking around in the shadows of the forest, covering up
his masculine beauty, the time had come for the big reveal.

Before emerging out of the
shadows, he removed his hat, unleashing mounds of chin length,
sandy blonde waves. Next, his shades were removed to expose his
amber eyes. He figured without his camouflage, the stray would
register his presence; however, he didn't budge.

Not until Thomas' body was
fully removed from the shadows did Dorian finally
notice. Hunched over almost on all fours, he eyed
the stranger in his forest wearily. His muscles constricted,
prepping to propel him toward the stranger, thinking he was finally
being tempted with a human.

Before he could react, Thomas threw up his
hand to show he was unarmed. “Whoa there, Killer! Look, I'm like
you.” He pointed to his extended fangs.

Dorian hesitated, and then ran his tongue
over his own fangs in confirmation. He struggled for a few moments
to find his voice, having no need for it in months. “What exactly
am I?” He asked the stranger, still poised to strike.

“You, my dear, are an enhanced species known
as vampire. I can explain much more, if you could kindly lower your
guard? I'm not dressed for a fight.” Thomas held his arms
outstretched to show he still meant no harm.

Dorian was unsure he could trust this
stranger, but he relented and stood erect.

“That’s better, isn’t it?
We can now converse like civilized beings.” Thomas slowly paced
back and forth in front of Dorian, not taking his eyes off
him.

He may not look like much,
but I better not let my guard down.

“My name is Thomas, by the way, and
you?”

Dorian was taken aback by the questioning of
his name. It had been so long since he had heard the word spoken
aloud. “Dorian,” he sputtered, “my name is Dorian.”

Thomas extended his right hand out to him
Dorian, who hesitatingly returned the gesture, making physical
contact with someone for the first time in six months. “Nice to
meet you, Dorian.”

Before Dorian could counter the motion, he
watched Thomas' left hand dart up to his neck. He felt a slight
prick of his skin like a bee sting. The light of the moon faded as
his body crumpled to the ground, and then everything went
black.

When Dorian awoke, he was no longer lying
crumpled on the hard dirt of the forest floor, but stretched out on
what felt like a cloud. In fact, the entire forest was gone and
replaced by some kind of darkly decorated room.

Raising his head slightly, he noticed he was
wearing clean clothes; a matching shirt and pants in pale blue made
of a silky material. Touching the soft fabric, he noticed his hands
were free of grime and his nails were neatly trimmed. Surprised by
all the changes, he ran his hands threw his hair, which had also
been cleaned and cut. Such drastic positive changes caused him to
wonder.

“Ahem,” Thomas cleared his throat while
sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. He was blocked from
Dorian's line of sight by one of the four posts of the bed. Rising
from his chair slowly, he walked to the side of the bed.

“Sorry about knocking you unconscious. I
used an elephant tranquilizer which may have been a little too
strong, but I knew it wouldn't destroy you. Wasn't sure how you
would react to the travel here, and I also couldn't risk you
killing one of my staff as they tried to clean you up. And dare I
say, that was a job. I had to pay double, normal wage for anyone to
even go near you. You were that disgusting. I know the hair is kind
of short. Sorry, but it was so matted, my barber didn't have a
choice.”

As Thomas spoke, Dorian just stared at him,
propped up on one elbow.

Backing away after not
receiving a response, he added, “I can see you need time to adjust
to your new surroundings. Enjoy a rest in a comfortable bed for
once. When you are ready to talk, just shout my name.”

After watching Thomas exit, Dorian lay flat,
staring up at the ceiling.

“I can't believe I thought, I was in...” he
whispered. He couldn't bring himself to say Heaven. “Like that's
ever going to happen. I can't believe I'm no longer in the forest
though. I was sure I would spend the rest of my existence in that
forsaken place.”

Repositioning himself to the middle of the
massive bed, he stretched out both arms as far as he could, but
still didn’t come close to either side. Then he pulled them up over
his head and neither his fingers nor his toes touched the ends. The
bed was almost as big as his entire room in his church. Sadness
immediately enveloped him as his remembered his former home and his
father.

“Stop it, Dorian. That life is gone,” he
moaned.

Clearing his mind of the depressing
memories, he allowed the comfort of the bed to lull him to
sleep.

After waking from his
rejuvenating slumber, he felt confined by his new surroundings,
having grown accustomed to the openness of the forest. He thought
briefly of shouting for Thomas. However, being isolated for so long
made him apprehensive about company.

Sliding out of bed, he exited the bedroom
using the door Thomas had used hours earlier. This led him into a
long hallway lined with many more doors. Following the hall to the
right, he descended down an elaborate marble staircase to the first
floor. “Why does one person need so much space?”

He proceeded toward the
back of the mansion opposite the double wood and stained glass
entrance. As he continued deeper into the mansion, he heard the
faint rush of water. Following the noise, he found himself inside a
glass room with a pool. The site enticed Dorian, having never seen
such a large amount of water contained inside a house.

Disrobing, he made his way to the stairs at
the end. Testing the water with his toe, he was pleasantly
surprised by its warmth. Staying close to the edge, Dorian
submerged himself in the warm water up to his neck. Leaning his
head back to rest on the edge, he stared out the glass ceiling.

“I see you found the pool,” Thomas spoke
from the entrance to the glass room.

Startled, Dorian lost his footing and
plunged under the water. Able to correct himself quickly, he
managed to only swallow a mouthful of water.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. May I
join you?” Thomas apologized and questioned all in the same breath.
Before Dorian could regain control of his mouth to respond, Thomas
was nude and jumping in.

“Oh, God, that feels good!” Thomas exclaimed
as his body reemerged from under the water.

This mention of God caused
Dorian to frown.

Slicking back his hair out of his eyes,
Thomas guessed, “Sorry. You probably don't want to hear that name
right now.”

Feeling exposed, Dorian
panicked while Thomas seemed completely at ease. Attempting to
hide, he crossed his arms over his chest. He then realized with the
transparency of the water, his entire body was visible. His face
heated up to a nice shade of crimson, but Thomas didn't
notice.

Dorian's curiosity exceeded his discomfort.
After stealing glances at the first naked body he had laid eyes on,
besides his own, he compared their physiques. Thomas was nicely
built, far more muscular and toned than himself.