Hello! Well, I must say that Nifty is my favorite web site now. I've had so much fun writing in the past so I thought I'd take another crack at it. This story was inspired by Nike, who was so sweet in urging me to write another story. So here goes nothing.
I want to thank those wonderful people who have emailed me in the past with so much encouragement. And to all the authors I emailed previously (you know who you are), you've done wonders. I know I'm not the greatest when it comes to sending email, but you guys have given me the inspiration to continue writing.
Anyways, email is always welcome. ngclle@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The following story is a figment of my imagination and is not true. I do not know the orientations of the BSB. This story contains material of an adult nature so people under 18 are advised not to continue reading.
The darkness had pretty much given the streets of Chicago an ominous ambience. The blond teenager tentatively strolled down Michigan Street with some trepidation. 'No, definitely not the most rational idea for him to spend the night strolling around without his bodyguard.'
But Nick couldn't help it. The night called out for him, luring him out of the tight shell that he had encased himself in the past few years. He was a few years beyond the thirteen-year-old naive youth that had entered the music business. He was now a full grown boy of sixteen.
Yet, why did he feel like he was thirteen all over again? Nick sighed for the hundredth time that day. He quickly picked up his pace. The realization suddenly struck him that someone was following him. He heard the muffled footsteps in the background moving in concert with the rhythm of his footsteps.
The winds were harsh, blowing chilly air into his smooth, alluring face. His silky strands of blond hair were flying every which way as he pulled the collar of his coat tighter. Still, that didn't give him the much needed sense of security he usually had when his two bodyguards were around.
The other four guys only got one bodyguard each, but it seemed like Nick was an untouchable jewel in the group and needed an extra protector just in case the adolescent girls were going to attack him. He thought it ludicrous, but now . . .
Nick looked up into the dark sky, suddenly realizing that he was rather far from the hotel. He noticed the stalker's pace speeding up as well and an overwhelming sense of panic swept through his body. The howling of the winds did nothing to soothe his trembling body. The stalker wouldn't dare . . . not in the middle of a huge street like this.
Then he remembered how the bodyguards had told him once that if he thought someone was following him to confront the person, let the person know that he felt their presence. Without thinking or hesitation, Nick quickly turned around to face the person who was following him. He gasped.
The clothing had pretty much concealed the body of his stalker, but the face . . . it was the face of death. The skin was blue and plastic. Even the lips were cracked and pale. The eyes were sunken beneath their sockets and the decay was all too evident. Before Nick had the courage to run, the ghostly form swiftly closed the distance between him and Nick.
Every step he took allowed Nick a clearer view of his decaying flesh . . . like that of a dead body risen from a grave. Nick gulped, but found breathing difficult. He didn't know how, but the next thing he realized was that he and the rotting body were in an alley, away from the light and people. He was too frightened to utter a sound as the blue lips of the body twisted into a smile that was more sinister than compassionate.
"Why . . . why are you . . . you here?" Nick stuttered weakly, his eyes trying hard to avert the unreal face.
The deadly face fixated on Nick's fair face. It's voice made Nick's skin crawl even more. It was not a regular human tone, but rather a high-pitched almost unintelligible sound. Still, Nick couldn't mistaken the words from it's mouth. "To claim a debt."
As it said that, the dead body moved closer until it was merely inches from Nick's face. The sunken eyes were now more visible than ever as Nick saw that the sclera were dry and wrinkled. The body's hands lifted and Nick shivered as he felt the gloved hand brush against his cheeks, making his blood go cold.
The dead body opened it's mouth and leaned closer to Nick, but Nick had no idea what it was trying to accomplish. A thin film of dust escaped the man's mouth before the body disintegrated into a heap of dust right before Nick's sea blue eyes. Then Nick thought he heard the winds whispering in his ears "You owe me."
Nick collapsed right next to the pile of dirt that was the stalker's remains, not trusting himself to support himself enough to walk back home. Nick's mind raced wildly as he frantically racked his memory for past deeds done that someone would demand a debt from him, but he couldn't think of anything pertinent.
With one burst of courage, he craned his neck to look at the pile of dirt beside him. To his horror, a strangely haunting wind picked up the pile of dirt and formed a grimacing face before the dirt was scattered throughout the alley. That was when Nick didn't hesitate any longer and ran for his life back to the hotel, back to the safety of living people. He didn't care what debt the stalker wanted him to repay because whatever debt it was, he didn't want to pay it . . . ever.
Nick had barely taken a few steps into the hotel when he bumped into something and fell hard on his bottom. "Well there you are you little twirp!" The voice came from the person he bumped into.
"Frank!!!!" Nick's tears started to stream down his youthful face as he smiled gratefully at his bodyguard.
"You don't have to pretend to be that happy to see me, boy! You're not going to escape your punishment!" the burly bodyguard smiled at Nick compassionately. His threats rarely served their purpose when it came to Nick. Frank sighed, wondering why he was giving in so easily to the young boy. "All right, up you go to your bedroom." He quickly pulled Nick up from the ground, supporting the pretty blond boy with his strong arms. Nick wobbled a little, forcing Frank to sigh and keep a hand around his waist.
They quickly got up to Nick's room. Frank was about to close the door behind Nick when Nick turned around and held him tightly. "I'm scared. Could you . . . could you stay in the room with me tonight?"
Frank's mouth widened in surprise. "I don't think it's appropriate for me to do that. I mean they could fire me if they found me in the same room as you in the middle of the night."
Nick cringed. "I asked you to. Please. I'm frightened of the dark. I can't sleep tonight." Nick's lips pursed together in a small pout. Frank took one glance at Nick's face and was powerless. Like with the countless times before this, he gave in to the boy's charms.
"Oh, you nasty boy. All right. But you're not to play any silly pranks on me!" Frank looked at Nick disapprovingly before giving in.
Nick smiled sweetly and grabbed Frank's wrist, pulling him into the large hotel room. Frank wanted to roll his eyes at the youth, but couldn't help and smile. Nick was simply a handful sometimes, yet everyone was always surrendering to his antics; and Frank was no different.
As the two entered the room, Frank glanced quickly at the two beds, both still unsoiled. Nick was always the one with the bedroom that had two beds, mostly because someone always had to be in the other bed. Management went crazy whenever it came to Nick. He was the youngest band member and being only 16, he always had to be supervised by a stranger. Frank would have gone crazy with ten million strangers commanding him and invading his privacy, but strangely, Nick had been so receptive and kind to every person that crept into his life.
Frank felt bad as he walked to the second bed and sat on it. That bed was for Brian to sleep in that night, not him. But Brian wasn't there. He had missed the flight to Chicago and was coming later in the night. Frank was always grateful for Brian's presence. Brian was the only person that managed to calm Nick down sometimes. Not that Nick was difficult in any way. He was just an enigma sometimes. And as close as Frank was to Nick, at times, he would be at a loss figuring out how to calm the boy down.
And that was the problem there--managing to calm Nick down. From when Frank first became Nick's bodyguard, he had noticed that Nick was rather strange. Not haunting, just peculiar. Frank had no doubt in his mind that Nick was innocent and naive. The boy could not look evil even if he tried. But there were those times that Nick would look so pale and absentminded. Not the usual absentmindedness that some teenagers seem to suffer from. Rather, a blank look as if his mind were completely washed out.
And then there were those times when Nick would be so fearful of the dark. Of course children could have active imaginations, but Nick was an adolescent now, well on his way to manhood. Still, he was so afraid of the dark that he needed someone to physically be in a room with him for him to sleep. Perhaps other people didn't think it odd, but Frank sensed that Nick's fear of the dark probably had its roots somewhere.
Frank sighed as he watched Nick's slender body in the bathroom. The youth was brushing his teeth but was trying very hard not to look at his reflection in the mirror. Frank had wanted Nick to see a psychiatrist, but management refused, saying that that would give the group a bad image. "We just barely launched their careers and you want to put a stigma on their image? No!!!!!" Management had cried out angrily. But that was just between him and management. Nick didn't know about it. Neither did the other Boys.
Frank didn't want to sleep until Nick did so he scanned the room once again for something to do. Finally, his eyes rested on a newspaper article on the drawer between the two beds. What intrigued him was one of the headlines on the Metro section. "Body Stolen from Local Cemetery!"
Frank thought the story a bit odd and began reading:
'This morning at 7:00 a.m., the body of Mr. Dennis Ebert-Brown Tolk was found missing from his grave. No evidence could be found near the site when police arrived this morning to check for clues.'
Frank skimmed through the rest of the story lazily until he came upon one interesting section:
'Mr. Tolk passed away one month ago at the age of 16, murdered by his best friend and homosexual lover in a fit of jealousy after he was found in bed with another man.'
Frank shivered a little. He didn't know if it was the chilly night breeze or the haunting story that made his skin crawl. He looked to Nick and sighed once again. Dennis Tolk died at 16. That was Nick's age. Frank couldn't possibly think of how he was going to feel if he were to find Nick dead one day. Frank shook his head. What was he thinking? Nick was a sweet and healthy boy. Nothing would take him away.
Frank looked back to the story. Dennis Ebert-Brown Tolk. That was a very strange name indeed. He threw the newspaper aside and looked back at the bathroom. Nick had closed the door halfway and undressed himself to take a shower. Frank felt his cheeks flush a little until he looked away with embarrassment. Not that he was homosexual, but he felt like a Peeping Tom whenever he saw Nick's body exposed. Not that Nick's body was unappealing. On the contrary, it was very attractive. But he would be fired if he so much as given Nick a suggestive or questionable glance.
Frank was about to look at the newspaper for anything on sports when he heard a knock on the door. Quickly, he walked up to it and looked into the peep hole. He was not prepared at all because when he looked into it, he saw a big red eye. Frank fell back from the shock and fear when he heard a familiar laugh.
"It's me!!!! Brian!"
Brian? He wasn't supposed to be there until later that night. He had missed his flight, didn't he?
As if sensing his suspicions, Brian continued. "It was just a trick. I wanted to surprise you guys. I actually made it on the flight!"
Frank sighed in relief. "All right! Come in." He opened the door for Brian to enter. Brian beamed when he saw Frank. "Nick giving you more trouble?" he asked. Although Frank couldn't place it, Brian seemed awfully cheerful, more so than his usual self. Plus, there was something strangely fake about the way he greeted Frank. And what was that thing with the red eye?
"Naw! He was just shaken tonight so he asked me to stay." Frank didn't want to reveal much more. Usually, he wasn't this inhibited. But this was not Brian. Brian was usually sweeter, gentler. Plus, he never referred to Nick as a troublemaker. He was always very considerate.
"Well, I'm here so you don't have to worry. I'll make sure he feels safer." Again, Brian was beaming with confidence and happiness. The usual Brian was sometimes rather grumpy after a flight. If not, he would just be quieter.
Frank was about to say something when he heard Nick calling from the bathroom. "Brian, is that you?"
"Yes it is, Nick!" Brian called out. Then Brian looked at Frank. "I can take over now."
Though Brian's voice was gentle, Frank still couldn't shake the nervousness off. Brian never hinted for him to leave in the past. Why now?
Frank was about to ask if Brian would let him stay, but something happened. It was as if he couldn't control his body. His hand involuntarily reached for the knob as his legs seemed to have a mind of their own and start heading out the door. Before his body left the room, though, he caughted a slight glimpse at Brian's face and he noticed the red eyes. Frank felt a lump form in his throat, but he couldn't vocalize.
He wanted to scream for help . . . for Nick. He wanted to cry out to Nick to beware, that something bad was happening, but he couldn't. His lips wouldn't budge. That was when he felt the darkness wash over his body. Nick . . . That was the last word on the tip of his lips before he was lost to unconsciousness.
Well, that was the first installment. Any comments? Email me at ngclle@yahoo.com