once.
“Who said that?!” He demanded.
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• 21 •
“Don’t try to deny it. I see the way you look at him.” The voice spoke in a demonic monotone.
“Where are you?”
“I’m over here.”
Basil turned and faced Dorian’s portrait. He stared into it.
“I…don’t understand,” he said, his throat closing up on him. He wondered if he was going keel over right there, before this intruder even showed himself.
“Did you think it was you who painted this portrait?” The voice asked, laughing. “‘The brush just danced in my hands,’” it mocked him. “Before I came along your work was dull, uninspiring, and pedestrian.”
“What do you want?” Basil shouted, his terror mounting, and he felt horribly weak for reacting that way. Sweat was dripping into his eyes. He rubbed them furiously to clear his vision, and then he lowered his hands.
“What do I want? I should be asking you that question.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boy, Basil!” Urged the disembodied voice. “I can give you Dorian Gray. All you have to do is submit.”
Basil backed away, shaking his head, positive now that either he was dreaming or going mad, or both. “Submit to what?”
Misty tendrils were emerging from the painting. Basil’s eyes widened in horror, watching two clawed hands reaching out and pulling some foul creature into reality.
“Submit to me!” It growled, lunging at the terrified painter.
DORIAN GRAY
• 22 •
Basil fell backwards and crawled up against the wall. The monster prowled toward him, closer and closer. It gave him an awful grin.
“I can give you what you want.” It enticed him. “All you have to do is accept me into your vessel.”
Basil’s breathing was erratic. He couldn’t think straight. All he could see were images of Dorian being seduced by Harry’s hedonistic lifestyle and vices. Getting up from the floor, Basil stared at the demon head on and gathered all of his courage.
“Yes,” he said, “yes, I accept to be your vessel. I just want to be with Dorian.”
The specter smiled, towering over its host. “I hope you remembered something hard to bite down on because the first time I crawl inside you hurts like nothing you can possibly imagine.” Warned the demon, placing its claws on Basil’s shoulders. “It’s claustrophobic for a while, but once I settled in we’ll both be breathing in synch before you know it.”
Basil took a deep breath. “Then do it. Anything for Dorian.”
The demon pierced its talons into Basil’s muscle tissue, as he let out a painful scream. Taking advantage of the situation, the creature turned into smoky mist and entered Basil’s mouth, slithering down his throat so it could take over his body.
The monster was right. It was the most painful thing Basil would ever experience. The pain was so immense, he fell to his knees and looked up at the portrait of Dorian and held his hand out as if the model was going reach out to him.
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• 23 •
The last thing Basil saw before he blacked out was Dorian’s innocent smile. But something wasn’t right. For a moment he thought he could see something lurking underneath the canvas. Something that was twisting his work and colors.
It was monstrous.
DORIAN GRAY
• 24 •
PART I
• A WILDE RIDE •
CHAPTER ONE
For neither birth, nor wealth, nor honors, can awaken in the minds of men the principles, which should guide those who from their youth aspire to an honorable and excellent life,
as love awakens them.
Plato.
17 YEARS AGO…
Wrapped in the womb, the baby listened to his mother’s heart beating. It didn’t sound like anything he’d heard before. The rhythm was off, fast but somehow excited. And it was racing.
Her screams still echoed in the amniotic fluid. Those sounds had scared him more than anything. He’d never felt an emotion so sharp, so jangling from his mother. The vibrations trapped inside her womb were less now, but still coasting through the liquid medium.
He felt distance grow between himself and his mother, something he’d never experienced in the nine months of gestation. Pressure constricted around him. His space had grown smaller in the past few weeks, but he’d accepted that. This was different.
He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. He didn’t like lying like this. His mother already knew that because he
DORIAN GRAY
• 26 •
had let her know. Instead of being able to move, however, he felt he was pinned.
Then he felt a constriction so tight it hurt.
There had been some warning signs of that during the last few days, but he hadn’t worried about it. Everything that had happened to him seemed normal.
He moved again, wishing she would sing to him. But his mother seemed to pull away from even more as he emerged into the light. A light so bright it blinded him. It hurt so much he let out a howl.
“Congratulations, Olivia,” he heard a voice say, “it’s a boy!”
Then the child recognized the next voice. “Oh, my God…he’s so beautiful!”
It was a tearful proclamation of joy and love.
It belonged to his mother.
The doctor handed the newborn baby gently over to its mother, who welcomed the child in warm open arms.
“Have you decided on a name, Olivia?” The doctor asked her.
“Dorian,” the child’s mother said, smiling. “His name shall be Dorian Gray.”
Dorian Gray IV’s only memories were of shifting back and forth in the soft, protective confines of his mother’s womb, dreaming of the gentle sounds she made. They were encouraging songs and tender coos that let him knew how much he was already loved. As she sang, he
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