Love & Stitches at The Asylum: Part Seventy-Two
Zombie at The Asylum?
Must be Wren's birthday! lol
Hope you're ready for some very strange fun. <g>
Happy Reading!
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Birthday parties had always been an event Wren understood more from observing on screen. Not terribly alluring, with brightly colored balloons and cake covered in a layer of icing, so sweet it made Wren’s teeth ache just to look at it. Sing-songy voices that made everyone sound as though they were making fun of the person forced to listen all the way through.
Then blowing on the cake everyone would eat.
Little kids can be adorable, but they are…pretty disgusting.
Maybe some liked to live dangerously. Wren had seen Rhodey snatch a cookie from Ana just to make her giggle and pop it in his mouth. The man had the constitution of an ox—according to Tracey—but Avery’s little sister could probably rate up there with hazardous material.
Wren wouldn’t say that in front of Danny, though. The younger man seemed to believe she was safe to be around. No need to change that.
As for Wren’s birthday…
It’s not at all what I expected.
And that made him incredibly happy.
He brought his focus back to Jared, his Dom having moved behind him again. “I believe I see some clues. In case there’s any danger lurking, all Doms must keep very close watch on more vulnerable specimens… No…subjects? Victims?”
“Definitely victims...” Jared’s voice was a heated rasp in Wren’s ear as he propelled Wren toward the nearest shelf that held a syringe impaled through a note.
The note was written in red ink or possibly even blood.
‘Find them all before it's too late. Or this too will be your fate.’
Reading the note again out loud, Wren moved forward, looking over all the shelves. Not a single one of his dolls remained, which meant there would be many places to check. And he doubted any of them had been kept together. His pulse picked up as L.D. tried to dart past everyone into the room, relaxing as Connor picked up the cat, somehow soothing him.
The man was a cat whisperer. Which explained a lot.
It also proved L.D. hadn’t gotten in here when the dolls had been moved. There wasn’t a single hair on anything. Jared would have made sure they were all handled carefully.
Now, the challenge would be how to get them back.
“I’m ready to begin, sir.”
Wren turned to face his Dom, blinki as he took in the sudden wardrobe change. A thick, black cloak with a red velvet lining paired with an old fashioned black suit, an accurate rendition of one of Dracula’s many outfits in the more classic versions. Moving closer, he brought his hand up to poke at a sharp, very realistic fang with his finger.
Breathed out a laugh when it broke the skin with a hot, stinging sensation. “You need to wear these after today, sir.” His lips twitched. “Though I’m not sure whether it will be me, or Noah, who gets the most enjoyment from them.”
Grabbing Wren’s wrist, Jared drew his finger into his mouth with a sucking pull, cleaning the blood off and making an appreciative sound. “You have twelve hours to find all of your dolls, sweet raven...” Reaching out, he snatched Jamie off his feet, and covered his mouth to stifle his scream. “Because they’re the only ones who can save your sweet and tender co-sub from becoming my next meal.”
Just because this was the kind of scare that brought Wren a little thrill—all right, maybe more than a little—he met Jamie’s eyes, glad Noah was holding Connor back and reassuring him, guiding the newbie Dom in how their…sometimes twisted household functioned. Jared knew Jamie’s limits, so there was no risk of him going too far.
And Jamie’s kind of sexy when he screams.
Wren made a thoughtful sound. “I’m not certain he wouldn’t enjoy that, sir. And you look famished. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of a meal. Then again, if Annabel comes back here without me, she might do something drastic…”
Eyes wide, Jamie squirmed, his breaths puffing audibly through his nose over Jared’s hand. Jared jerked him backward, though with no real force, out of the room, his laughter echoing. “Twelve hours. His fate is in your hands.”
“Go on, my little bird.” Noah leaned in close, before pressing a kiss to Wren’s cheek. “Our little cat is counting on you. He’ll get a nice scare out of this, don’t you worry.” He straightened, his lips slanted as he observed Connor, who was clearly struggling not to follow Jared. “Done right, he gets off on it. You might want to take notes.”
Connor arched a brow at Noah. “I always am, my man.”
Moving past them both, Wren clutched the note in his hand, exploring the loft for any other clues, but finding nothing. He put on his shoes, pausing by the door, uncertain if he was supposed to wait for Noah or go out on his own.
Thankfully, Noah didn’t make him guess. “I’ll never be too far, my little bird, but you’ll have to figure this out on your own. Without my help.” He pulled out a Nerf gun, painted black, along with a cloth bag full of the foam darts that went with it. “You will have some backup, though. Naturally. This is The Core.”
Eyeing the weapon, then the front door, Wren inhaled roughly.
And stepped past the entryway.
The whole area had been transformed, blacklights making moving figures glow as they groaned, inching forward in an unnatural way. Green faces, made up in a grotesque fashion, with prosthetics and green slime leaking from special effects wounds. Clothing of all styles, caked with dirt that could have come from crawling out of a grave. Zombies. He couldn’t recognize anyone, which had his heart pounding before he’d even taken a step.
Holding up the Nerf gun, he fumbled to load it, jumping as someone gently took it from his hand, crouching down a bit and motioning for him to follow. Keiran had what looked like black grease, in two lines, right across his cheeks, dressed in black cargo pants and a form fitting, long sleeved black shirt.
He loaded the toy gun and handed it back to Wren. “You have to hit them in the head to take them down. Once they’re all dead, you can walk over them.” He took out another dart, dabbing it on the back of his hand, where it left a bright orange mark. “You’ll be able to see when you’ve hit the target.”
Over the club sound system came moans and creaks, giving the effect of The Asylum’s rafters rubbing against each other as the building came to life. Icy air drifted from the vents, making each breath a white cloud, fog gathering low on the floor. The zombies began to shuffle forward, bumping into each other awkwardly.
One dropped a putrid looking hand onto the floor with a wet splat. Then shrieked.
Pointing the Nerf gun directly at the noisy zombie, Wren pulled the trigger. The dart hit its shoulder. The next missed entirely. Wren moved forward, until he was close enough for better aim.
Finally, he managed to take down the shrieking zombie. Snickered as Keiran yanked him out of reach of the others, shooting one who got a little too close right between the eyes.
The one he shot dropped to the ground with a solid thud, one of its arms appearing to detach and scuttle across the floor a couple feet before it twitched to a stop at the top of the stairs. Another zombie tripped over it, its beachball-like head rolling and bouncing off its shoulders toward Wren.
Appearing from the studio doorway, Avery aimed a kick that sent the squashed looking head flying into a zombie that was probably big enough to be Dallas.
“I got the rear.” Also in full merc black, Avery aimed his gun, firing over Wren’s head. “Cover him!”
Green blood splattered onto the wall, making a wet pattern as another zombie fell.
Only four to go.
Shooting them all would create a pile. Difficult to climb over. These zombies were the slow kind. Blocking them might be more practical. Leaving Avery and Keiran to hold them off, Wren grabbed the ankle of one of the closest zombies, dragging it into the path of the others.
He bit back a laugh as an untied shoe came off in his hand, revealing race car socks.
If nothing else, Pike was very good at playing dead. Even small as he was, his lifeless form was difficult to maneuver and…
That’s definitely cheating.
Wren shook a finger at him. “You can’t hold on to Dallas with your brains gone.”
“Can, too.” Pike stuck out his tongue, which looked an even brighter pink against the green. “It’s rigor mortis. Sorry, buddy. Gonna have to drag us both.”
From the doorways further down the stairs, more zombies piled into the hallway and began their shuffling climb toward Wren, Avery, and Keiran. Avery swore under his breath, loading his own weapon which appeared to be a semi-automatic Nerf gun. He handed it to Wren, taking his to load quickly and started firing and reloading at a rapid clip.
Dallas fell first, going to his knees, then doing what appeared to be a controlled roll toward the bottom, taking out the legs of several zombies.
The ‘zombies’ didn’t appear to be following any rules at all, so Wren had to go with a brand new strategy.
Make a run for it.
Ducking under one arm, Wren hurried to the stairs, evading a few bright green hands that grabbed at him. He might not be as fit as some of the subs, but his Doms kept up with his training, and cleaning the club was a workout in itself. He managed to make it to the bottom of the first set of steps before the zombies crowded in enough to block him from slipping through the door.
Firing at close range was a bit easier, but the bodies falling completely cut off his exit. He let out an exasperated sound, smiling and shaking his head as Keiran stepped on several fallen zombies and picked him up. “This has become complete anarchy. The dead won’t stay dead.”
“I know, but we’ll teach them for cheating.” Keiran’s brown eyes glowed with amusement as he ‘accidentally’ stepped lightly on someone’s fingers as he carried Wren in the other direction. “We’ll have to find another escape route, mi vida. Take Wren, I’ll hold them back.”
For his small size, Avery was very strong. He took Wren from Keiran’s hold, somehow managing to fire his gun and hitting a Rhodey sized zombie in the forehead. The glow-in-the-dark paint splattered at close range, some of it spraying Wren’s cheeks.
The cool, slimy sensation made Wren shudder. He gave Noah a helpless look as he passed his Dom again, where Noah stood back with Connor, observing everything with a watchful eye.
Noah reached out, using the side of his hand to clean Wren’s cheek. He caught Avery’s eye. “Don’t bring him outside right now, we still need to make sure our own people are in position first.” He motioned Connor toward the fire exit. “You can take that way, though, and meet them downstairs. If any of Vani’s people get…‘over-enthusiastic’ and come too close to the building, let me know and I’ll radio her to get them to back off.”
“On it.” Connor jerked his chin in acknowledgment before heading off, looking much more at ease now that he had something to do other than watch.
Unexpectedly slipping into Jamie’s studio, Avery brought Wren into the undisturbed darkness, running at a fast, smooth pace that barely jostled Wren at all. They passed through the dance space into the control room, where there was a ladder propped up near the air vent. “Up you go. I’ll be right behind you. Directing you which way to go. Careful of the spiders. I think I saw one of your dolls escaping this way.”
Any other day, unless it was an emergency, there was no way in hell Wren would crawl through this space. He’d done so once, intending on scrubbing down every inch, but Rhodey had Avery get him out, insisting it was a ‘waste of time’.
Not arguing with Doms was difficult in moments like that. But while everything was spooky and exciting, Wren was able to mostly ignore the layer of dust. And spiders didn’t bother him. He shuffled through the space, dimly lit in intervals by strip lights, and caught sight of a larger one that would definitely have made Jamie scream. Danny would likely pass out. Then wake up and ask for every kind of anti-venom.
Plucking up a spider, Wren grinned. It was mechanical. The realism was downright disturbing. He slipped it into his pocket. Along with the next one he found. His dolls would look even creepier with these once he had them back in their places in his office.
Unfortunately, it probably meant he’d have even fewer guests.
After Avery had him make a few turns, there was a light up ahead. They seemed to be angling steadily downward.
“Slide down head-first. It’s a smooth ride and you’ll land on the pile of cushions I put at the bottom.” Behind him, Avery remained completely silent until he spoke. “You’ll be in Lawson’s office.”
Nodding, Wren took a deep breath, sliding down. Hands against the metal at either side, he slowed his progress so he landed on the cushions with a soft thump. Standing, he adjusted his shirt and pants, dusting himself off.
Right there, on Lawson’s office chair, was one of his newer dolls. A Raggedy Ann the original owner had named ‘Cecilia’, which Reed and Curtis had discovered at a second-hand store on one of their trips to find parts for a restoration they were doing. Wren had been wanting one of these for a while, but shopping online had people charging ridiculous prices and Wren had begged every member of his household not to pay that much for them.
In the glass coffin the doll—which Jacks had helped him carefully clean, adding more red yarn hair to bring her back to her previous glory—hadn’t even shifted one raggedy limb She wasn’t one of Wren’s scarier dolls, in his opinion, but Danny had assured him she fit very well with the rest, and Wren adored her.
According to Curtis, she’d been donated to the shop from a hospital that had burned down. Which explained why she still smelled a little bit like smoke. Wren hoped the child who’d owned her had made it out safely, but she had probably been witness to some horrors there. Part of her story.
Maybe that was what the other subs, who said she gave them the chills, saw. He picked up the glass coffin and grinned at her, speaking softly. “We’ll get you right back to your own place where you won’t have to worry about disturbing anyone. I know you wouldn’t want that.” Yes, he knew talking to inanimate objects was strange, but they were very good listeners. “As soon as the zombies clear out. I am not bringing you up through the air ducts. It’s much too dusty for you.”
Taking out his phone, Avery snapped a photo of the doll in Wren’s arms. Face covered in green paint and soot, he looked a mess as he grinned.
“Proof.” Wiggling his phone a little, he nudged Wren toward the door. “Leave her here. No one will touch her. You’ll want to make sure to get to the others before midnight, or they will turn into zombies.”
Wren snickered, bringing the glass coffin to one of Lawson’s shelves and placing it carefully beside a stack of ledgers. “All right, let’s move on to the next task. But just to let you know, I wouldn’t mind if they did become zombies. It would be a very unique experience, trying to keep them all fed.”
Throwing his head back, Avery laughed. Then shook his head, still chuckling. “That’s what I told the King of the Zombies, but he doesn’t believe it. Maybe you can tell him yourself over lunch? I hear there are some pretty good brains on the menu.” He motioned toward the door in the direction of the gym. “You may approach his throne without harm in the banqueting hall.”
“This is…” Wren started forward, pausing with his hand on the doorknob as he glanced over at Avery. For the first time, it hit him how elaborate the planning that had gone into his birthday was.
He gave his head a little shake, his eyes stinging as he tried to get a hold on his emotions. “I never really cared about my birthday. Not since I was very young. When I was…maybe eight? Twenty years ago.” He huffed out a laugh. “My aunt did not like other children. She considered them messy. And a bad influence. I taught myself to not be like them at all so she wouldn’t look at me the same. Being alone didn’t bother me, but…I like this. A lot more.”
In the full light, he could see the concern in Avery’s navy blue eyes, and the love as he reached out to pull Wren close. Then claimed a deep, affectionate kiss that spoke so much more than words ever could.
When he finally pulled back, it was to brush a bit of paint off Wren’s face with his thumb. “You are so very loved. There isn’t a single one of us who didn’t want to see the joy on your face today when you realized how much. I’m lucky I got to be the first one.”
Nodding slowly, Wren drew in a breath and let it out on another laugh. “I’m happy it was you. I’m…not upset. Just touched. I don’t want anyone else mistaking that, but I believe you understand, better than most.”
“Da, moya lyubov.” Accent thicker than normal, Avery caressed the line of Wren’s throat with one finger. “We have a soul bond. Mine and yours, I am forever in your debt for bringing me here.”
Wren smiled and took Avery’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “No debts. Just us. Both who have a very…warped view of the world that makes sense if you like things a bit on the darker side.” He opened the door. “Let’s go before we get in trouble. Real trouble, which neither of us enjoy.”
“To the right.” Avery motioned him in that direction. The bar was completely dark, other than a sliver of light that shone under the gym door. “Remember to bow low to the Zombie King and thank him for granting you and your dolls safe passage to the Underworld.”
Moving on quiet steps through the space, Wren gave himself a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He pushed open the doors to the gym, where it was brighter, but not overly so. Banquet tables had been set up, a bit like they were on days the club had brunch for all the members. Only, on those occasions there weren’t quite so many body parts strewn about. Or cobwebs, with more of the spiders Wren needed to add to his collection.
Between the two long tables, which were covered in gore and broken looking cups and plates, was a raised throne. The ‘zombies’ had all come down, seated at the tables, one having taken the throne as the ‘zombie king’. Behind him, in the center of the ring, was a very realistic looking scaffolding with a body hanging from a rope.
At each corner of the scaffold sat a glass coffin with a doll inside. Four in all. Then another that Wren didn’t recognize in the Zombie King’s hands. When the king spoke, he sounded like Dallas but not, with his garbled rasp.
“Welcome, foodling. We look forward to gobbling you up. Such a treat.” He listed to one side. “Unless you can please us with your unbroken body and brain.”
Wren inclined his head, then gave the Zombie King a deep bow, remembering Avery’s instructions. “I will do my best to please you, your majesty.”
“Then perhaps you can tell us what this thing should be named?” A blank brass nametag decorated the glass coffin the king held up. Inside, the doll appeared to be a pristine Tommy Bangs from the Madame Alexander line. “His owner was murdered. There is still human blood on its collar.” The king ran his nose over the glass inhaling deeply. “We can smell it even now.”
Moving a little closer, Wren examined the doll from his place at the base of the throne, then glanced over at one of his dolls in her case. The one that had started his collection. He met the Zombie King’s eyes. “I would request that his name be Adam, your majesty. After the son of Mary, who you’re holding captive. I think he’d like that.”
The king made a thoughtful drooling sound, a little green blood trickling from the side of his mouth. “Adaaaam.”
He held up the case for all to see, and the throng of his zombie court moaned, “Aaadaaaam...” Then began banging their hands and fists on the table, chanting, “Adam! Adam! Adam!”
Behind Wren, Avery whispered in his ear. “The king will want a sacrifice in exchange for allowing your dolls their freedom.”
“Oh…umm…” Wren pressed his teeth into his bottom lip. He reached into his pocket, holding out the spiders he’d collected. “Would these work for a sacrifice, sir? I’d give you L.D., but I think Jamie would be upset.”
Throwing back his head, the zombie king laughed, more blood running in a river down his chin. “I think I shall demand your time, the only thing that is truly yours to give.” He swept his arm out in a broken gesture. “Come. Eat with my court. Show me you relish the delicacies of my chef, and I will allow you, and your friends, to go free.”
On the gibbet, the body began to sway as if it had come suddenly to life. The man lifted his head to look pleadingly at Wren. It was Curtis.
Shuddering, Wren resisted the urge to go see exactly what it was that held him there without actually strangling him. If he didn’t trust his Doms to make absolutely certain there was no real danger, this whole party would become much less entertaining, very quickly. He was starting to understand, more and more, why Jared had made sure even Jamie didn’t take part in this portion of it.
His co-sub would be having nightmares for a month and that was the last thing Wren wanted.
“Thank you, your majesty.” Wren closed his hand around the spiders. “I was hoping I could keep these.”
The king listed forward, nearly falling out of the chair with his broken body, thrusting the coffin at him. “You are welcome to the creatures, my little arachnid. And a seat at my table.” He pointed to the empty chair at the head of the table when Wren took the coffin. “There.”
“Yes, sir.” Wren bowed again, backing up as he did so, like the royal subjects in the old fashion romance movies he’d caught glimpses of when Noah watched them with Jamie.
Definitely not his style of movie, but at least it gave him some idea of what he was supposed to do now. To go along with the role playing.
Bringing his new doll with him, he went to his assigned seat, setting the glass coffin on the table beside his plate, making sure it wasn’t too close to the edge. “I…hope we don’t have to continue the game while we eat? In the movies, zombies slobbering over brains is entertaining, but I really don’t like the idea of watching everyone here eat like that.”
“My court has impeccable manners.” Shuffling to his feet, Dallas approached the wall where a shackled figure hung, then caressed the person’s face. “Awake my chef. And see if the little arachnid enjoys your fare. He alone shall determine your fate.”
When Keiran lifted his head, testing his restraints, Wren stilled, swallowing hard. The very true to life decorations, the whole set up, had a type of immersive realism that would be easy to sink into too deep if he let himself. Keeping in mind that it wasn’t real, just like his favorite movies, was what let him continue to enjoy the experience.
But he couldn’t help catching Keiran’s eye, relaxing only when the other sub winked at him. Keiran might not be into as many edgy things as his co-sub, but he did have his own dark side, and he was very good at adapting to different situations.
So long as Wren was enjoying himself, he would, too.
On the table in front of him, every dish seemed to be made up of different items that would be better suited to an autopsy table than a banquet one. He considered his options carefully, using a set of tongs to select a few fingers, some tiny brains, and some crosses that looked like they were made of wood, but he could tell were actually pretzels.
“You should let him go.” Wren held up a cross, upside down because that fit best with today’s theme. “I already know I’ll enjoy this and…if you don’t, I’ll have to take over your kingdom.” There, that should work well with the game. After watching Jacks and Shea roleplay with Danny, Wren had picked up a few things. But it was very difficult to take himself seriously. He gave Dallas a sheepish smile. “Not that I could actually beat you, sir. This is all pretend.”
Caressing Keiran’s chest, Dallas met Wren’s gaze, his own considering. Everyone at the tables shuffled into motion, grabbing food. Only Jared’s well-mannered motions as he selected his own morsels gave his Dom away.
“Is it pretend?” Leaning into Keiran with a growl, the zombie king appeared to bite hard on his neck. Arterial spray arced outward, hitting the wall and the floor. He eased back. “Now you are truly mine.”
Movie effects could create all kinds of illusions, but fake or not, Wren didn’t like seeing Keiran in that position at all. Moving fast, he rushed across the gym and slammed into Dallas’ side. The much bigger man didn’t move far, but it was enough for Wren to get close to Keiran and put his hand against his neck.
Much as Quint had done with Seth. Shuddering, Wren closed his eyes and drew in a few measured inhales to steady his pulse. “This isn’t the good kind of scary. You’re okay. Can we pause the role-playing, please? I don’t like this part.”
Behind Wren, Jared’s strong arms lifted him as he called, “Yellow.”
Everyone moved, including Curtis, who hopped down from the scaffold, and shucked the harness that had kept him there. Even Keiran’s restraints were Velcroed to the wall and came away with a tearing sound.
“Thank you, sir.” Wren wrapped his arms around the back of Jared’s neck, ducking his face against his shoulder, not caring if his glasses got smudged by all the special effect makeup his Dom was wearing. “I may have a small idea of how Danny and Jamie feel when I pick a scary movie to watch.”
“Sorry about that, Wren.” Dallas’ voice was full of warm concern nearby. “I didn’t think.”
Lifting his head, Wren quickly shook it, giving the Dom a shaky smile. “No need to apologize, sir. This is all very well done. And I enjoy being scared, just… I think Keiran being hurt is one of my few hard limits. But I know, logically, he wasn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Jared chuckled warmly. “I told you we should’ve hung Jamie up there instead.”
From the table, Jamie called out, covered in green. “I like biting!”
“You…you’re here?” Wren’s eyes widened. Then what Jared had implied hit him and he did something he was fairly certain he never had before. He poked his Dom in the chest and gave him a stern look. “That was not amusing, sir. I would not have reacted better to it being Jamie.” He barely managed to repress a smile. “Seth, however, it would have been tolerable. I already know he can take it.”
“Oy.” Seth piped up, next to a shoeless zombie about Pike’s size. “Once a month is enough, thanks.”
Wiping Pike down so he was a little more recognizable—and probably so he’d stop tasting the green makeup—Quint lifted a brow at his Dom. “Red. And if objecting as a sub isn’t enough, I’d like to protest as one of the doctors who treated you.”
“‘Red’ is quite adequate, smiley.” While Seth cut up some brains into bite sized pieces using utensils shaped like bones, he drew Jared’s interest.
Jared placed his lips close to Wren’s ear. “I will be capturing those two later at the heart of the Goblin King’s realm, if you’d care to observe.”
Cocking his head, Wren considered it for a moment. Then replied in a whisper. “I like knowing you’ll have that time with them, sir. Could you…tell me about it? After? I love hearing you talk about your experiences. I don’t need to be there.”
Not that it bothered him for Jared to do things with his other subs, or the other Doms even, but he wasn’t much of a voyeur. And playing with Quint was still something that he would like to keep as…a possible option. For the future. Maybe.
His one attempt at playing with Seth had almost resulted in a fatality. And not the fun kind.
“Of course.” Not seeming bothered by the request, Jared motioned Noah over.
Coming to Jared’s side, Noah appeared to be attempting to school his features, his gaze flicking over to where Rhodey was using a whole container of wipes to clean Keiran off, leaving them in a pile by his feet. “Props to the makeup department. I think this setup might be worthy of a few awards, it seems to have been pretty damn effective.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the part with the executioner.” Winking at Wren, Jared handed him over to Noah. “I need to clean up. Make sure our tender hearted little raven has some food before we resume.”
Noah made a feigned sound of disappointment. “You mean you’re taking off the fangs? Damn, I was looking forward to seeing you use them. You’ll have to keep them in your toy bag for our…personal enjoyment.”
“Yo, some of us are trying to eat here.” Reed’s voice was loud and clear, his zombie look standing out a bit more under the light, since he seemed to have mixed his own paint with sparkles. He gestured with a foot—clearly a breakfast sandwich now that a few bites had been taken out of it. “You got Wren safewording. No one else bleeds today.”
Stalking toward Reed in a panther-like swagger, Jared popped the fangs from his pocket into his mouth and approached so close that Reed had to tip his chair back to look up at him. Wren’s Dom bent low, ripping open Reed’s shirt with a tearing sound that echoed in the gym’s high-ceilinged space.
“Toppy sub.” Jared swooped toward Reed’s nipple and bit.
This was more the type of play Wren was used to seeing. He snickered as Noah looked away, suddenly seeming to find a spot on the ceiling very interesting. The chatter around the tables resumed, which was pretty standard for the Core. No one so much as blinked when random acts of pleasure happened at various places around the club, whether it was open or not.
Seated at the head of the table again, Wren held back a sigh when Noah nudged his plate toward him. The food was good, but the excitement made it difficult to focus on eating more than a few bites. He finally managed to finish two pretzels, some raw vegetables, and some kind of spicy, flaky pastry with spinach and cheese that Keiran had introduced him to recently, adjusting the flavor until it was one of Wren’s favorite foods. Spicy enough that it burned his mouth and made his eyes water, but he’d grown to enjoy the sensation.
And started liking milk a bit more for the relief it provided after.
Jared had Reed laid out on the farthest table, his chest exposed and covered in tiny pinprick bites. Jamie had disappeared somewhere, and everyone else ate and chattered. Dallas, Keiran on his lap, fed his boy bits of literal finger foods.
By his side, Rhodey had Avery tucked against his chest, holding a cup of what looked like more blood to his lips. “The three of you are getting boring birthdays. We have enough gory fun at work.”
“But I never get to eat the people I butcher.” Innocence in his wide eyed stare, Avery took a sip of the blood in a way that had a bit trickling down the side of his mouth to his neck. “Mmm. Delicious.”
Angling away from Quint, who kept drawing the sharper looking utensils out of reach, Pike grabbed for the pitcher of red liquid. He sighed when Quint shook his head. “Why can’t I try it? I was really good. I didn’t even slip down the stairs when I forgot to put my shoes back on.”
“Because Seth was carrying you, brat.” Quint handed Pike a tall glass of milk. “You don’t need all that sugar. And I’d prefer to know if you’re bleeding for real. With you, absolutely anything is possible.”
Music from the Labyrinth movie soundtrack piped in over the speakers, quiet at first in the background. Some kind of cue, because more and more of the zombies shuffled off toward the bar doors.
Checking in with Matt, who he’d cleaned off using a kerchief from his torn and dirt caked suit-turned-zombie-costume, Lawson rose to his feet, bringing Matt up with him. “I expect you to tell me if any of this overwhelms you as well, my love. If it does, I’ll bring you downstairs to enjoy the pool with Danny and Drew. You might be more comfortable in your prince costume.”
Matt whispered something to Lawson in response, seeming to remind him of something they needed to do. He glanced at Wren, then came over with Lawson.
“Happy birthday, Wren.” Leaning down, he made a wave motion behind Wren’s ear and then came up with a small jeweled dagger in his hand that looked completely real. “It’s supposedly haunted with the soul of a fourteenth century knight who died fighting for his knight lover’s life in battle.”
Taking it, Wren smiled at the other sub, shifting forward on impulse and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Matt. I’m going to pick a special place in my office for it.” It would look perfect with his snowglobes on its own stand. Maybe with a small spotlight to make the jewels sparkle. He could already picture the setup and was eager to get upstairs to rearrange his office to accommodate it. “This is absolutely stunning.”
The music grew louder, the lights in the gym changing to something more lush. Purples and greens, then the dance club doors swung open, seemingly on their own. Smoke poured out, along with music from the louder speakers. Bass thudded under Wren’s feet, and Jacks appeared in his Jareth costume amidst the fog.
In one hand, he undulated a crystal ball over his palm to his wrist, then between his fingers, making it appear weightless as he sashayed toward Wren. He held up the ball as he reached the table.
“You must navigate the maze, awaken the dragon, and follow him to his lair. Should you grow weary, refreshment may be found in the jungle oasis.” Jacks pointed toward the bar. Then gestured to the dance club. “That is my realm. Enter it with care, for my labyrinth is protected by many beasts and goblins who would dearly love to claim your dolls for their very own to add to my goblin army.”
Fixated on the ball moving in Jacks’ hand, Wren had to tear his attention away to listen to the instructions. Usually, he wasn’t drawn to fantasy except in books, but when Jacks had suggested The Labyrinth for a movie night as one of both his and Danny’s favorite movies, Wren decided to give it a chance.
And absolutely loved it. There was something about the mind games played, the potential danger of being trapped forever in the Goblin Realm, that was just haunting enough to add to the appeal. It helped that it was a movie most of the subs could enjoy, even rewatching it multiple times.
He bit back a slanted grin as he met Jacks’ eyes. “‘You have no power over me.’”
The most beautiful smile briefly overtook Jacks’ face, his eyes shining with the best kind of joy as he realized Wren played along perfectly. He leaned low. “Just when you get to the cake, your troubles will only have begun. If you don’t manage to blow out all the candles, your time will run out.”
Despite having had milk with his spicy food, Wren was craving something with a bit more burn to it. Nodding, he headed for the ‘jungle oasis’, turning just as he passed the door to ask if either of his Doms would like a drink as well.
A heavy net came down, blocking his way back. Another had fallen across the other exit. And a map dropped to his feet. Crouching, he studied it, recognizing Pike’s artwork, and Jared’s beautiful writing. Clues he had to follow to escape the room and get to the Labyrinth.
“Everyone who wants to join you has to go through the escape room. And no, you can’t stay there and make drinks for everyone.” Noah spoke at the other side of the net, down on one knee so Wren could meet his light gray eyes in the spaces between the thick green ropes. “If you feel overwhelmed again, at any point, use your safeword, my little bird. Don’t wait for one of us to do it for you. Either Jared or I will be by your side. Immediately.”
Wren brought his hand up to the rope, touching Noah’s fingers through it. That was one thing he’d never questioned, the one reason he was able to indulge in the most terrifying things.
So he gave his Dom the only answer he needed.
“Yes, sir. I know.”
****
Check back tomorrow for Part 73!
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