Release(34)

And here, now, again, was Linus. The low scars on his back where he’d had lung nodules removed when he was a child. The faint line of hair that extended down between his butt cheeks. The mole on the front of his right thigh. And the mid-sex scent of him, close and private, not sweat but something different, something only for Adam, as the point of no return was reached.

“I’m gonna come,” Linus whispered, almost as a question, meeting Adam’s eyes. Adam nodded. Linus stiffened – Adam could feel Linus’s butt flex under the pad of his foot – held his breath for a second, then let it out in a gasp. They said nothing, but Linus’s hand was already on Adam, helping him the rest of the way. It only took a moment, and when it was done, they were still there, panting together, the muscles of their bodies relaxing towards the next few seconds, but not just yet, not just yet.





“My Queen,” says the faun, a forbidden, fatal arm around her, trying to pull her physically from the grip of this spirit. He can feel the separation, caused again by the touch of Sarah, who watches him goggle-eyed, though those same eyes burn again as the Queen separates from the spirit of the dead girl.

“You dare touch me!” thunders the Queen. “You dare–!”

And she stops. The faun stops, too, feeling an unexpected resistance. The Queen has paused.

The spirit – who is still the Queen, who is still the spirit, who is still the Queen – remains caught by the hand of Sarah, who for the moment has wisely abandoned all attempts at sense.

“Hold,” says the Queen, softly, but unmistakably a command. The faun pauses. She is half in and half out of the spirit, as if she has leaned back and merely found the spirit sitting in front of her. “Hold,” the Queen says again.

And they both listen.

“You have to release me,” says the spirit.

“You have to release me,” says the Queen in perfect tandem, watching like one of her great hunting pikes who wait patiently to strike.

“To whom are you speaking, my Queen?” the faun asks.

“Katie?” says Sarah. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t… I can’t even seem to get through the days any more.”

“You have to let me go,” says the spirit, says the Queen.

Sarah looks down at the hand that holds the girl’s arm.

“I do not mean your hand,” says the spirit, says the Queen.

“My Queen,” the faun says. “There is doom coming if you do not–”

“I said, Hold,” says the Queen, not looking at the faun.

“You must release me or you will never be released,” says the spirit, says the Queen to Sarah. “You must let me go. You are not to blame.”

Sarah begins to weep, her hand still on the Queen.

“You must let go now, my Queen,” says the faun.

“There is nothing a Queen must do,” says the Queen, eyes still on the spirit and the girl on the couch.

“You lose yourself within her. The spirit will drag you to your death. To the death of us all.”

“The spirit hunts. The spirit quests for her own release.” The Queen raises the smallest of fingers, but it is enough for the faun to let her go immediately. She sinks back into the spirit, but before she does, she tells him, “I will follow her. I will go where she leads.”

“It may cost you, my Queen. It may cost you dear.”

“All the best journeys do, faun.”

Then she is gone, gripped again by the spirit, now freed from Sarah, who she leaves weeping on the sofa. She stands, no longer seeing the faun, perhaps no longer even knowing he is there, and she heads to the front door, to who knows what beyond.

And once again, there is nothing the faun can do but clear the memories of Sarah and follow his Queen, glancing at the sun and wondering at his last day in existence.





“Off to the church now?” Linus said, leaning in Adam’s driver side window.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Setting up for tomorrow’s services. His main ushers are both out sick, and I’m always backup number one.”

Linus leaned further inside. “You still smell like us.”

“My dad won’t know what that is.” Adam looked up. “Will he?”

“You can shower. Again.”

“I’m late as it is.”

“I’ll see you at Enzo’s party, yeah?”

“You’re still going? After…”

“I get to see you and there’s free beer. Of course I’m still going.” Linus kissed him again. “I wasn’t kidding. I know it’s high school. I know we’re young. I know these things may or may not last or even if they should. But I love you, Adam Thorn. Today, right now, I do.”

“And I love you,” Adam said, seriously, meaning it.

“Maybe not yet,” Linus grinned, “but possibly soon.”

Adam drove off, waving in the rear-view mirror to Linus who, right now, yes, he did love. Enough to make his heart ache. He hoped it would last.

He hoped he would deserve it.

He glanced at his phone as he turned onto the main road into town. A missed call from Marty. None from his parents. Nothing from Angela, but she’d probably just got stuck at work. One from Karen at the Evil International Mega-Conglomerate asking if he was okay. And– You’re a good person, Adam. Don’t ever let them tell you you’re not.