Disciples of Cain: Part I
Author’s Note and Disclaimer:
Although arguably all of my works deal with dark and often taboo themes, I in no way endorse or condone the criminal actions therein. Sans some of my poetry, all of my work is fiction, and meant for an Adult/18+ audience. I will endeavor to add content notices/warnings to all of my posts, but some may slip through the cracks.
For Disciples of Cain, there is a general content notice for self-inflicted bodily harm, cannibalism, incestuous desires, flirtation, and sexual scenarios between consenting adults, cursing, death and violence in and out of erotic and cannibalistic scenes, and on-page transphobia.
Reader discretion is advised.
Also, if the fact that any of the serialized fiction that I post on this site is only lightly edited bothers you, feel free to click away. At this moment, I have no desires get unsolicited editing advice unless I explicitly ask for it. Thank you for understanding!
“Blessed be the disciples of Cain, for though they are foolish and driven by their lust for the flesh of their kin—of which they dine on and fornicate with and slaughter like their forefather—their worship and sacrifices to the Holy Mother rarely leaves much to be desired.”
The fire didn’t hurt Judas Lásková’s bony, anemic-pale fingers as they wiggled them between the dancing orange-reddish flames. Or maybe it did, and they were used to it, just like they were used to the thick stench of meat roasting over the fire. Or numb and nose-blind. The bonfire feasts were muddled in their brain, making it difficult to parse them all out. There was one for every fucking full moon, and they were fucking over the hunt, the screams, the taste and texture of the pork-like meat… They didn’t even like normie pork, and these constant mouthfuls of flesh were making them want to go vegetarian. The sooner they were back home in their wreck of a cabin by themself and wallowing in self-pity, the better.
A shadow slid into Judas’s peripheral vision, and they jerked their hands away from the smoldering wood.
“You look fucking miserable.” The person’s voice slipped into their ear as soft as the moss growing on the tree stump Judas sat on.
Judas’s heart stuttered, and they slid over as Peter Lásková bumped them with his hip.
Peter carried the scent of the lakeside chapel, which was further down the bumpy gravel road that cut through the greater portion of their family’s property. The deeper Judas inhaled, the more they could pick out the undertones of freshly turned graveyard dirt and the frankincense that made Judas’s head feel floaty whenever Peter was nearby. No matter how many showers he took, Peter could never get rid of that particular aroma.
Peter pushed Judas’s thick, dark waves out of their narrow face.
They swallowed a whimper at the intimate touch.
A gleaming smile cut Peter’s heart-shaped face in half. The jagged scars from when he’d attempted to reshape his jawline—to make it more angular and stereotypically masculine—twitched at the quick motion.
“What?” They snapped, glad it was dark enough to hide how flushed they were getting. They couldn’t help but notice how pretty Peter’s teeth were. Or stop themself from imagining how those very same teeth might feel digging into their fragile skin, for that matter.
Peter’s grin widened, shifting from welcoming to menacing. His sharpened cuspids stood out against how rosy his lips were from kissing one of Lily’s partners. “Someone’s in a mood tonight. What? Did Lily turn you down again like Evie did? Or did she say yes and you weren’t able to get it up?” He laughed softly. “You always have crushes on the most unavailable people.”
“Fuck off.” Judas refused to meet Peter’s eyes. Eyes that Judas knew were opposing shades of earthy brown and icy blue—the same icy blues that matched Judas’s—that he’d lined with ash from the embers earlier when the sun was still making the horizon beyond the trees blush as fucking hard as Judas.
Crushes on the most unavailable people? That’s rich coming from you.
“What’s the matter? Feeling nervous?” Peter leaned in, his plush mouth was a breath away from Judas’s heavily pierced ear. He nipped the air at the edge of the shell of Judas’s ear. “Do I make you nervous?”
His warm breath carried the salty scent of Lily’s husband’s cum that Peter had swallowed when the pair of them had snuck off behind Peter’s rust-encased pickup truck before getting caught by Lily and Evie.
No one had seemed too mad about it, though. The brief spat the throuple had ended swiftly with Adam promising to let them take turns filling his holes. Needless to say, the three had disappeared soon after the voting for the head of Judas’s family’s church.
Judas shifted their position on the wood, hyper-aware that with any wrong movement they might move against Peter’s grass-stained jeans.
God, they’d already rubbed one off after spying Peter sucking off the older man earlier.
They wanted someone to touch them, even for just a minute. Especially if that someone was the man right next to them.
Notice me, Judas wanted to whine like a child. Really notice me and not him.
While Judas could see the allure of fucking around with an older, more experienced man—especially since there was the taboo element of Adam being married and thus off limits—they couldn’t understand why Adam.
Adam Davidson was a nasty piece of work with ambitions of rising higher than his current position in the church. Everyone knew that he hated being a mere church elder. He had eyes on being the next bishop and everyone knew it.
And now that the longest-living bishop and the priest were dead, there was nothing stopping Adam from skipping several steps up the hierarchy ladder and seizing what he wanted.
Bastard probably got voted in tonight, too. Judas snatched the skewer of meat out of Peter’s hand and took a huge mouthful. They gagged on a particularly fatty portion.
“Christ, I can get you your own, if you want.” Peter laughed as Judas spat out the chunk of flame-grilled human flesh. “Or maybe you need a drink.”
“Fuck off.” Judas roughly passed back the food into Peter’s hands.
Peter, ever the eternal flirt, with no matter who it was in his orbit, no matter how forbidden and inappropriate, leaned back in toward Judas. “Someone really needs to get laid. ASAP.”
Oh fucking hell. They balled their hands into fists under the sleeves of their loose, long-sleeve shirt.Their jagged nails cut half-moons into their calloused palms. It took everything in Judas’s power not to draw attention to the stiffness underneath their own ragged denim pants, but they couldn’t help but glance down at their lap.
The heat of Peter’s quick gaze followed Judas’s downward.
“Oh.” Peter chuckled under his breath. “So Lily did get some tonight, but it wasn’t enough, was it?”
“It’s none of your damn business.” Judas snapped.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Peter could never find out that he was the reason they were hard.
No one could.
The warmth of Peter’s presence lifted up and away from them as he stood. He tossed the rest of his meat into the fire. “Come on. I’m tired.”
Judas risked looking up at the object of their torment. “And that has to do with me because…?”
“Your place is closer, and your couch is so much better than crashing in my truck.”
Judas’s heart thudded in their chest. “Nah, you don’t want to.”
“Come on,” Peter whined and gave an over-dramatic yawn.
“Mom’s still not well.” Judas lied, keeping their voice as even as possible. Their mother’s body was buried under the compost pile out back, and Judas definitely didn’t want Peter of all people to find out. “It’s a small space, and you’ll bother her. I bother her.”
Peter’s brows scrunched together. “Then where were you planning to sleep tonight?”
“I wasn’t.” Judas offered a lopsided grin. I was hoping you’d fuck me until I can’t breathe, but I realize that’s an untouchable fantasy. “Honestly, I was going to ask you if you had any ideas.”
Peter fiddled with the keys hooked to the wallet chain hooked to his belt loop. “I guess… I mean, as long as you don’t freak out… I know Dad spent a lot of time there and you and he never got along, but…”
The church.
God, but of course, that’s what Peter was going to suggest. Peter loved the church. He loved the chaos that followed whenever he and the rest of the congregation took part in the Eucharist. The agonizing yet so, so freeing contortions of divinity crashed over them like a wave as they became what they really were.
It wasn’t that Judas was much different in that aspect. It was just since the last time they drank from the chalice and ate of the Most Holy Mother’s preserved flesh, they hadn’t had so many secrets.
A paranoid part of them was worried that they’d confess to putting their mother out of her misery. And that they’d realized that they had only ever wanted their brother since, well, forever.
“We can crash at the church?” It came out as a question, but Peter didn’t seem to be asking for Judas’s blessing. He tugged on Judas’s sleeve like he always used to do when they were kids.
Back when they’d both been mud-caked, barefoot, blond-haired demons tearing through the woods. They used to hide under their bed while their parents screamed at each other, and the last of their beloved grand-mama's China plates were thrown and shattered against the walls of what was now Judas’s home.
Back when they’d been brother and sister, before Peter had come out and their dad had taken him away to protect him from their mother’s wrath. Peter, to be forever in the service of the church, working its land, and burying its copious dead.
Back when Judas had been too frightened to admit that they weren’t “boy” or “girl” because they knew that would scare their mom more than Peter had, and their mother disposed of things she was scared of. Because a girl actually being a boy made more sense to her, because in this world, who wouldn’t want to be a man? But “throwing away the power that comes with having a prick to be nothing?”
Well, needless to say, their mother really hadn’t understood. They’d fought. Violently.
Judas was the aptly named betrayer in a self-imposed exile while everyone quietly waited for them to hang themself from the nearest tree.
But… but this was a golden opportunity to spend more time with Peter. To be close in proximity to him again. Even if it was never close enough for Judas.
Judas swallowed their apprehension and allowed Peter to pull them away from the dancing, sparking flames, and toward what they were certain was going to be a long night of lusty dreams featuring the one person they should never be having such dreams about. “Sure. Why the fuck not?”
