WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW The candles were placed in a circle around him. Half of them were still waiting to be lit. The way that the light reflected on the white stone pillars made the shadows dance around the room as if possessed. Otherwise, the cathedral was peaceful in its godliness. However, the flickering light gave the scene an undeterminable presence of evil. It was nevertheless a church, a house of God, but you were under the impression that God himself had let Satan into his sanctuary...willingly. Ironically enough, this was the entire purpose of its existence. A slim figure, clothed in black robes, tilted a candle so that its flame touched the one next to it. Adding yet another shadow to the wall. He moved in a pattern that will become like a drug to you. It will lure in the back of your head, wearing out your sanity. Until there was nothing left. But what if you were already insane? A smile parted his lips as the pattern was almost completed. He stepped out of the circle, clearing the view. His bloody footsteps made out a star. An upside-down star in a circle of candles. The pentagram was there, mocking God. To make the sign of the Devil in a house of God. He started laughing. At first from plain amusement, but then he turned his head towards the ceiling and kept laughing. At God. He would no longer be a puppet. No longer be merely a source of entertainment to a sadist. No longer be hurt, not mentally nor physically. It had never been that he did not feel the pain, he just did not care about it. He touched himself over the chest. His smooth chest was still covered in sticky, wet blood. Running down his flat stomach and discolouring the robe. But he did not even feel it, all he felt was Schuldich's touch. Schuldich...he was glad that he had locked the cathedral, Schu would have been devastated to see him like this. He was fragile, and so was Jei. The difference was that he was too weak to handle it any more...or maybe he was strong, he was doing it for Schu. He had to do it. Not even his lover could save his soul any more. It was too late, maybe it had always been too late. An object glimmered in his hand. He turned the knife in the light from the candle, and the glimmer reflected in his amber-eye. "I am coming, father..." Satan had accepted him as his son as God rejected him. Because Satan never judges. Rather king in hell than slave in heaven. He knew exactly how to make the cut.... *** Schuldich was running. The words pounded in his head like a thousand drums. He could not go on for much longer. He was already coughing blood for each new step he made, and the blood threatened to choke him. His catlike body moved as fast as the wind, but it would still not be enough. The tears were trickling down his cheeks, clouding his vision as he kept going, ignoring the pain. He stumbled through the alley, knocking over a trashcan, but still not stopping. His bandana was drenched with sweat and the once milk-white Armani-suit was covered in mud. He did not seem to notice. He was pushing himself to the limit, he *had* to make it on time. Or else, it would be too late. He had never believed in God, and yet he found himself praying that Jei would be all right by the time he reached the cathedral. The words kept swirling around his consciousness. By now, the wrinkled note fell out of his clenched fists. But he did not care, he knew what the note said, he simply kept going. He had known even before he had read it. He had known it the moment that he woke up, cold and alone in an empty apartment in the middle of the night. He had known it when Jei did not kiss him goodnight the day before, and then stayed on his side, falling asleep without touching him. He had known from the distant, absent-minded look in his eye. Normally so full of life. He had not wanted to consider the thought, but yes...he had known. Thus, he blamed himself. If only he had talked to him, taken him in his arms, stroking his head and comforting him. Maybe then they would still be at home, sleeping in each other's embrace. The blood boiled in his veins, his heart thumped so hard that his chest threatened to bust and tears, sweat and blood mixed as they dripped off the sharp edge of his chin. He still kept running, even though every muscle burned with red blazes of pain. The note fell in a puddle of water, which he later stepped in with his expensive boots. The words were washed away by the water, never to be seen again. But he knew what they were saying. "I want black roses on my grave." Jei kept lightening the candles, one by one, until they all were lit. He had always loved candles. At the very beginning, with the nuns, it had given him a feeling of peace and godliness. Now, they were meant to mock God. However, the only thing that he could think about now was the way that they used to reflect in his lover eyes. And the sunset-red hair, vaguely smelling of roses. That was why he wanted black roses on his grave. It reminded him of Schuldich. His beloved Schuldich. Would he ever understand? No, how could he ever understand? Jei sighed as he blew out the match. He was not committing suicide. God killed him, by making it impossible for him to live. Impossible to handle the guilt. The never ending guilt. He was reminded every time that he saw Schu's beautiful features. Every time that he looked into the innocent, deep-green eyes of his lover. Every time that the gentle, cherry-red lips touched his. Every time that his slender arms were wrapped around the athletic, german body. Schu never noticed, he never knew that no matter how much Jei loved him, it would still not be half of what he deserved to be loved. At least in Jei's eyes. You could not find a more compassionate lover than the slim Irishman, but Jei could never forgive himself. The shadows kept roaming around the cathedral, as Jei raised his knife towards his eyes, studying it. It was drenched with blood. Just like him. He had already cut himself in pure rage. His robe was dripping from red blood and bloody footsteps could be seen all over the floor. The memories stung his mind as he thought about what he had done to Schu. He had never told him...he had let him think it was all Crawford. And then he had become his lover. He had been happy for the first time in eighteen years. He did not deserve to be happy. Crawford...it was not all Crawford. It was his fault too. He had twisted and turned the thoughts, but he always reached the same result. It *had* to be his fault in some way. He screamed as he buried the knife in his chest. Not lethally, but enough for him to hurt. "I'm sorry Schu...." He sunk down on the ground, engulfed with tears. Unable to breathe, but yet inhaling air. Crawford had first molested him. He had not wanted the German. He was too muscular and athletic. Instead he had chosen the slender, fragile Irishman. However, when he found the Irishman unable to satisfy him, he had turned to the German. He had left the Irishman for someone who would start crying when he thrust. The Irishman on the other hand had just been quiet, hating, waiting for it to stop. He cut himself again, deeper and deeper as he kept crying desperately. If only he had satisfied Crawford, done as he asked him to. If he had done that, Schuldich would never have been hurt. It was time...he cut the first cut of the lethal combination. The blood dripped down on the ground. He felt filthy. Therefore, he cut himself again. The blood kept running down on the ground, washing him free from sin. He got closer and closer to bliss as the knife dug deeper and deeper into the soft human flesh. He would soon be saved. *** Schuldich did not stop running as he reached the cathedral. He threw himself right into the door and turned the doorknob. It would not budge. It was locked from the inside. He could feel his panic growing. What if it was already too late? What if his silver-haired angel was lying dead on the floor as he managed to open the door? Blinded be tears, he started banging on the door with his fists clenched, as hard as he could until his knuckles started bleeding. The blood ran down the door in a stream, making red stripes on the otherwise perfectly white door. The skin on his knuckles was stuck with blood on the place where he hit. He kept calling his lover's name as he now tackled the door with all his strength. The leather on his coat's shoulder part started to get wet from blood as he threw himself in panic towards the door. His sunset-red hair was glued to his sweaty forehead. He had lost the bandana on the way. He did not even want to think about what would happen if he could not open the door. He knelt and buried his face in his hands, as he was overwhelmed with a feeling of loneliness and weakness. Somehow, he managed gather so much mental consciousness to snap out of his panic and start to think rationally. There had to be another way in. There just *had* to! Schuldich sobbed loudly and gasped for air before managing, with inhuman strength, to stand and stumble around the cathedral while clinging to the wall. He did not stop to rest, although he was exhausted from the run. Why would Jei do this to him? Leave him alone with the grief? No! He could not even think about it, Jei was his everything. He would never be able to survive without him. After running around half of the cathedral he reached a glassed door. A smile of relief parted his lips even so little as he wiped his red, swollen eyes and looked inside. The room had five rows of benches, all of them had a worn-out bibles next to the seats. The big, glass-stained windows reflected the light of fifteen to twenty big candles on pillars. Placed in a circle. Jei was on his knees in the middle of the room. His black robe was next to him, in a bloody, sticky mess. He looked just like an angel, a saint on his knees. At first, Schu was relieved that Jei was all right. That he was not dead yet. He pressed his palms towards the window. "Jei..." Then his face paled and his arms slowly fell to his sides, leaving a bloody track on the window. His beautiful features changed into a disorted expression of equal parts horror and despair. He fell to his knees, unable to move. However, he still kept looking through the window, stunned. As if nailed to the ground. "God, Jei...no....no....honey, no...." The tears started to fall down his cheeks again, into the puddle of mud in which he knelt. Jei was sitting in a pool of blood. And the blood just kept floating around him. A knife glimmered in his hand and Schu tried to force him to let him in with share will power. Jei's body suddenly jerked as he became aware of Schu outside. He turned around, allowing Schu to directly face the Irishman's glowing ever-golden eye. He was completely covered in blood, there was not a square inch of his milk-white skin left untouched. Jei raised the knife again, looking Schu in the eyes all the time that the knife made yet another scar. Then, he threw it away and turned his back towards him again. Schu had to look away and throw up. He could not stand to see his beloved Farfie hurt. Bleeding. As Schu leaned against his hands on the cold, muddy ground while desperately gasping for air, he suddenly became aware of something. His blood froze in his veins as he turned back towards Farfie. He could feel his heart breaking and he knew that it could never be healed again. He started to shiver uncontrollably as he discovered a piece of pink, human flesh on the floor next to his lover. Farfie did not use the knife any more, instead he buried his hands in the smooth chest that Schu had always leaned against for comfort, never realizing that Jei was the one in need of comfort. As his hands were pulled away again, they held another piece of soft flesh in them. In an instant, Schuldich leapt up and started banging on the door, his eyes engulfed with tears. He tried to scream, but the only thing emerging from his cherry-red lips were a slight whisper. "God, leibling! What have you *done* to yourself?" His voice died as he watched the pile of flesh grew bigger. When Farfello turned again, you could see a big, bloodstained hole straight into his chest. He was not dead yet, but it was only a matter of time. He looked Schu in the eyes and slowly shaped the words "Farewell, my love" with his lips. As Schu realized that Farfie was not going to let him in, he took of his scarf and wrapped it around his fists. Blinded by tears, he smashed the window above the doorknob in panic. There had been a small hole, but yet big enough for him to fit with one hand. At the same time, Farfie pushed his hand so far inside his chest that his hand became invisible. By now, Schu had thrown away his scarf and started to bend the sharp glass edges with his bare hands. The blood floated down his arms, but he did not even notice, all he thought about was Jei. His eyes grew big as saucers and the cold sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the blood as he saw Jei slowly pulling out his hand. But something was not right...Jei was clasping something in his hand. The slender hand was clinging to a small object, just the same size as the hand. As Schu realized what it was, he knew that it was too late. The Irishman had already tarred his own heart out.... *** "LIEBLING! NEEEEIIIN!" Scu reached out his hands and were now tarring the glass apart with his whole arms. Sliced flesh got stuck on the pieces, but he still could not stop. The tears clouded his vision and the red blazes of pain burned through his arms like fire. He could see his beloved angel sitting on the floor with his heart in his hand. And he knew. He knew that this was the end. He knew that he had not made it on time. He knew...but he still would not give up. Not until Jei's heart had stopped thumping. Then, he could give up. <...thump...thump...> Farfello heard Schu calling for him as in a dream. He could feel his heart in his fist. He held it gently, it might break if he clasped it too hard. He could actually feel it thumping slower and slower. He got closer to paradise. <............thump...........thump............> Schu could see Farfie's eyelid falling further down. He hesitated, but then made up his mind. He pushed his entire body towards the glass, impaling his chest. The pain was almost too much for him to take. There was blood all over the outer door by now. With one more push, he managed to open a hole big enough for him to climb through. He stumbled over to the nearly lifeless body on the floor and took it in his arms. "Don't give up, honey. Stay with me. Don't leave me!" He screamed as he clung to the Irishman's slim body. <..............thump..........................thump......................> Jei knew that this was the end. He felt distantly that someone grabbed him, shook him. Tried to make him return to consciousness. But he had no desire to leave this place. He was happy here. There were a curtain of red over his eyes and he could not see nor hear anything any more. The only thing he could sense was his heartbeat. Thump......................................thump..........................it was much slower now. He knew that there was nothing left for him to do but to rest in the arms of sleep. He closed his eyes and gave in to the bliss. <............thump.........................th-- > Thus, he died in his lover's arms. *** "Ash to ash...dust to dust...." The preacher kept yapping. It was raining. The funeral was held under a large tree, in the shadows. Jei had not liked darkness while he was alive, but what did that matter now? Not at all. There was only one visitor at the ceremony. His sunset-red hair was drenched with water. He looked like a drowned cat. Actually, that was a better description than you would think. His slender arms, slim waist and length gave him a catlike impression. You could not see if he was crying. Partly because his head was bent down and hid by a strand of hair, but also because of the rain. If he was in fact crying, then the tears mixed with the rain. He did not listen to a word that the preacher said. He simply stood there in his black suit and expensive shoes. However, even though he looked so rich and his whole body radiated confidence, he looked as fragile as if he had been made of glass. The preacher found it best to leave him alone with his grief for a while. He would come back after half an hour or so. Little did he know that it would then be too late... *** The visitor stood by the grave. The preacher had left a while ago. He had not even noticed. His whole spirit was engulfed with grief. And yet, he did not even cry. Because he was not able to. Because he was not really sad. He did not feel sad. He wished he did. Because what he felt was something so much worse. He felt empty, without his lover he had nothing to live for. Nothing at all. So he simply stood there. After what could be maybe ten minutes his cherry-red lips parted as if he was going to say something. But they closed again. He simply turned around. The only trace he left was a flower. One flower on the grave. One visitor...and one flower. A black rose. Picked from where the wild roses grow. Because Jei had always been wild. Free as the wind. Only a few seconds later, the gunshot echoed through the otherwise so peaceful Saturday afternoon. The preacher would later blame himself for leaving the stranger alone. However, oblivious as the preacher was, they were not even buried together...