47A/N: This is the newest working of my mind. No demons this time, just a lonely magic-man. Heh.
Before we get started: this story is for mature audiences only. I actually do not care how old you are, I care whether or not you can handle it. This story is sexual in nature, and graphic by choice. It is not PWP, but it is an adult story, with adult characters in adult situations. Do not like, do not proceed.
This is just the prologue...
The night was cool, the wind biting at the skin exposed on his face and hands. Not all was quiet as he wished; nothing was ever entirely silent in this obnoxious, inutile city. There was always even minute amounts of exuberance and lividity. Nothing ever slept in this godforsaken town.
No, that was untrue. The people did sleep.
Nothing ever slept in this town for long.
He wished, idly, that he himself could go without sleep. Go without all the things that his feeble human body demanded from him. That it required from him. Sleep, nourishment, hydration… All the things he wished he could live without. The things that would be useful if they could all live without. If the people of the world never needed food: there would be no shortages. If they didn't need water: no one would die from ingesting the poison that ran from the pipes in the many dirt ridden nations. If they never needed sleep: industry around the world would be booming, would it not?
But of course…this was a simple, fleeting thought manifesting itself into a mantra; or even just a desperate desire. The wind ruffled the leaves on the trees. It howled minimally as it coursed through various objects, creating a low whistling in the near distance.
Nothing was quiet in this town.
Not even the air. Not even the cars; alarms ringing distantly.
He began to imagine: what exactly was happening this very second to induce such shrill cries of despair from the car? A man…a shadowed man with a pipe, cracking it in the side and smashing a window, searching for something…but what? Money? Something to sell? Why would he do such a thing? Maybe…
His name is…Jack. Jack has a family. A wife and two kids…with another one to feed on the way. Jack just got laid off because the foreign hands in a land far far away are cheaper, and just as efficient to assemble the cars he stood in the factory line up awaiting every single day, like his daddy before him. His wife is ill. His kids need food. School fees don't pay themselves. His daughter needs…insulin. His baby is going to need diapers. The roof leaks. The stove doesn't work.
Jack is desperate.
Jack is every man.
Every man is a desperate Jack for whatever reason befitting.
I am Jack. You are Jack. We are all Jack.
And the alarm in the distance stops. He stops his contemplation of the life of a fictional man that may very well exist. It is late, and the roads are illuminated poorly with the orange-yellow glow of the street lamps overhead. He is above the lamps, looking down. He is above the trees, looking beyond. It is late in the night, and the air feels still. Far more unmoving than it had a second prior.
Every molecule in the space around him felt heavier. Still and quiet. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Every singular anatomical cell froze in his being. Only for a second. For a split second, he let the feeling of true death wash over him.
It was blissful. Blissful in its impracticality. In its sheer novelty. The wind fluttered by again, and life returned to him instantly.
Such an interesting feeling it was to return to the breathing world. Even if only after a few milliseconds, so much seemed to have passed by. So much escaped you in a moment of lacking sentient. And yet, as he looked around, nothing had changed. The street lamps still stood beneath where he sat on the shingled roof. The branches still fluttered by his ankles and slapped the bottoms of his feet with no real vehemence. The vast majority of the city still slept.
With a small sigh, Dyami lifted himself from the roof and dropped onto the balcony. Slipping into the open window, he shut the night air out. Perhaps it was time he got some rest. A little sleep.
And yet he felt restless.
His home was cluttered, and could be beheld by only his own eyes. No one was allowed into his domain. It was for his peace of mind. And their safety. Humans were curious, inquisitive creatures by nature, and having one poking around could be catastrophic.
Mountains of books stacked off to the side, along with loose papers, and strange objects they would be interested in if given half the chance. It was not something he wished to deal with. Dyami strode forwards, rubbing his temples, making way for the latrine.
Upon entering the bathroom, he couldn't help but stop and take in his reflection for a moment. He was flushed, his pale face coloured from the cool night air. His stormy blue eyes stared directly back at him tiredly. His mouth was set into a hard line. His blonde hair dishevelled slightly, though he attempted to remedy this with finger-combing. How abysmal.
He looked absolutely loathsome.
Turning away from the looking glass, Dyami turned to the toilet, the lid lifted as usual, and made his business quick. He lived alone. There were no complaints that could be made by anyone.
Washing his hands, followed by brushing his teeth, Dyami attempted to ignore his reflection, opting instead to focus on the task at hand. Rinsing off his brush and returning it to the little holder, he straightened up.
The toothbrush sat alone. Completely and utterly alone. Not a single other brush to keep it an ounce of company. The bristles were worn, starting to fray and point off into different directions. How dismal.
The lonely toothbrush seemed to face him, begging him for his affections. Narrowing his eyes, Dyami gripped the little toothbrush's head and turned it around, avoiding its scrutinizing stare. After a moment of watching the little green brush, pointed off in another direction, facing the wall, Dyami sighed and slid the paste forward until they touched.
He exited the bathroom, flicking off the lights.
Everything in this house seemed lonely.
Everything was singular. It couldn't be helped. He had no reason for having two toothbrushes. They were not needed. He only required one, for no one but himself.
As Dyami entered the bedroom, he began to strip off his clothes, tossing the material into the hamper in the corner of the room. Clad only in his underwear, he slipped into bed and kept the bedside lamp on. He opened up a big, heavy, leather-bound book and skimmed the page until he found his place, where he had stopped reading a few hours prior before stepping out onto the roof.
Sighing after a long moment of reading, and flipping many pages as he finished, Dyami looked up, noticing that the glass of water he now desired was on the other side of the room. With a lifted hand, the glass shuddered minimally from its place and glided across the room, right into his outstretched hand, as if on a perfectly level conveyor belt. Drinking lightly, and closed his book and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He had learned all that he needed to, he was sure. All that he could learn from here. He knew a great deal of what he already needed, and the material he had just dissected did little to improve his knowledge. It all seemed very simple, and yet highly complex at the same time. How dreadful. Was it simple or was it not? This is all he wanted to know.
Was this possible or was it a wasted dream?
Was he going to be able to do this? Shuddering he decided silently that there was only one way to find out.
Dyami looked over to the side of the room. Lying on a cot, stretched out was the form of a perfectly designed human. He knew how perfect it was: he created it.
Every atom, every molecule: he created it. Every organ, every cell, every detail: he created it. This was the perfect vessel for his experiment. A human, perhaps late in their teens, with short dark brown hair.
Waiting to be born. Silently, but desperately.
Dyami shivered in thrill and every molecule in his body shifted. He tapped in, and he began to concentrate. He saw everything with his inner eye. Every happening.
The lungs inflating, the heart beginning a slow, steady rhythm, the cells beginning to move, the blood flowing. He watched silently as the brain he had gifted this creature with began to function. And then, he was being pushed.
Something was pushing his mind away, hard. Gasping, his concentration was lost and his eyes snapped open. He panted as he looked over at the unusual creature he had created. It was still. Completely still. Nothing moved on it. Not its chest, not its face; nothing.
And then, its eyes opened. Quite suddenly, the lids pulled back and wide hazel eyes bore into his own.
His heart skipped a beat as the creature sat up slowly, and then proceeded to stand, the sheet slipping away and revealing the human form he had bestowed upon it. And it watched him for a long moment. And then it moved forwards. It crawled onto his bed with a certain wide eyed interest. The creature reached out and touched his face with a small, delicate hand. The fingers were long and thin, perfectly structured. And her lips were full.
She did not smile. She just looked at him in amazement.
He looked away from her face for a split second, noting her immediate proximity to him, and her state of complete undress. She was everything he had designed her to be. She was tall and lithe, her collarbones prominent, her breasts pert and small, her stomach flat, her waist narrow, her hips small but rounded, her legs long and lean… She was everything he had intended her to be.
She moved closer to him, their noses touching slightly and he felt his blood rush as he eyes bore into his own. Her fingers trailed down his face and touched his neck, and then chest. He moved forward and his lips brushed hers softly. The creature allowed this gesture, and somewhat curiously, returned it.
Dyami allowed his hand to travel slightly and touch her bare shoulder. It felt just like a humans skin. It was too hot though. Her skin seemed to radiate a heat that was highly unusual, even feverish. But it was soft.
Just like a human woman.
The creature's eyes fluttered closed and it moved against his lips again. The creature kissed him and he pushed forward as well. The woman seemed surprised for only a moment before the gesture was returned. They kissed, there in his bed; her naked, and him in only his underwear, having yet to speak a single word to one another.
She suddenly moved closer to him and lowered her body onto his, her high temperature felt even through his sheets. Their kiss progressed quickly. His tongue touched hers tentatively, as if gauging her reaction. The woman pushed on, slipping her own tongue to meet his. Dyami's hand slid down her back, as she lay on top of him and gently gripped her backside.
She hummed in response, tugging her lips away from his and pressing them, instead, to his jaw, and then throat. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and shivered as her teeth grazed the skin on his neck.
Jack is desperate.
Jack is every man.
Every man is a desperate Jack for whatever reason befitting.
I am Jack. You are Jack. We are all Jack…