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    jfalkon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Fairy Dust - 3. Doubts and Nightmares

Doubts and Nightmares

As Sam closed the door his mind worked feverishly, questioning Fred's reason for patting him on the back. It took Sam a moment to remember how much Fred had been in love with his last girlfriend. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Fred motives were simple. He liked to joke around while keeping an eye out for women. Now Sam began to question his own feelings. Had he enjoyed the pat on the back too much? He tried to remember. Then his mind turned to the video that had started all the trouble. He had felt a rush of excitement immediately. The memory made him feel giddy and then sick. The guilt burned like a hot coal in his chest. When that subsided it was replaced by anger at whoever had saved the video on the computer. "Damn fag," Sam muttered as he turned on the television.

He and tried to concentrate on the news but the images from the video invaded his mind every few minutes. As soon as he relaxed they played in a loop. Eventually he gave up on the newscast and went to bed. Even with his eyes closed he could not banish the image of the two nudes kissing in the shower. Some part of his mind seemed to take sadistic pleasure in bringing back every detail in high definition. The more he tried to convince himself that there was nothing to like about the video the more he was afraid that he did like it. He was sure that if he let himself like it, something in his mind would break down and send him into some kind of insane shameful ecstasy. He was afraid of becoming one of those girly men he had seen parodied in the movies.

Finally he got out of bed and stood in front of the room's mirrored closet doors. Looking at himself he said aloud, "I am not gay."

Looking at his reflection he searched for any sign of femininity but found none. The stubble on his face clearly labeled him a manly man. He took of his t-shirt and looked at his body. His muscles were slightly obscured by a layer of fat but they were still visible when he flexed. Satisfied that a specimen like him could not be gay, Sam went back to bed.

This time he was able to sleep but his mind would not let him rest for long. His dreams took him back to the shower in the video. He could clearly hear the water running. The two men were facing each other as before but now the shower was much larger. Its occupants looked small and vulnerable as they kissed. Suddenly a loud noise woke Sam. He was not sure if it was real or imagined but all was quiet now. Sleep took hold of him again and he was returned to the shower. It was now larger than before like a shower in an unusually big locker room.

In a far corner Sam could see a lone man. At first he thought the man was one of the lovers but as he looked closer he recognized the man as himself. As he stared at his own nude body he saw a gash open under his left chest muscle. It looked as if some invisible scalpel had cut into the skin. Thick red blood began to pour down his chest. Then another wound appeared down his arm and then another on his leg. Thick red syrupy blood ran down his body as wound after wound opened up. The thick liquid pooled around his feet before being devoured by the shower drain. He screamed for the bleeding to stop as he looked at the shower floor.

Then he realized that there were no feet on the blood drenched shower floor any more. He looked up and saw his body handing from the showerhead by its neck. There was something carved into his back but he could not understand the words.

When he awoke he was covered in sweat. His heart was pounding furiously. He turned on the lights and was relieved to find his body intact. As he tried to calm down he remembered the strange scratches on his back. They looked almost like words but he had not been able to understand them. He found a piece of paper and sketched what he had seen. There was something familiar about the hieroglyphs. It took him a moment to realize that they were mirror-reversed letters. He held them up to the mirror and read, "die fag."

He tried to rest but was unable to go back to sleep.

Copyright © 2011 jfalkon; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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