Dirty Buisness

Samuel was starting to deeply regret agreeing to join his company’s yearly hunting trip. 

He had told his fiance, Alice, as much that same morning and she had laughed in understanding.

“It’s not even just the hunting part of it,” He had grumbled. “It’s these men. They’re always trying to discreetly one-up each other to try to get ahead. I feel like I'm in a pissing contest whenever I'm around them.”

She had shrugged, telling him that maybe he should consider it.

 “You’ve just been promoted, it might be a good idea to spend some time with the man who made that happen. Plus, it’s a chance to gauge your new competition…”

Samuel had groaned then because she had a point. Of course she did.

He’s thinking of this very moment and cursing Alice for being logical about it as he steps out of his sheen black Maserati, a gift of the company. He smooths down the casual black suit he put on for the occasion and pastes on the grin that has him making seven figures this year. 

“Sammy!” Levi Miller's blond hair is almost offensive with its stark contrast against the autumn leaves that done the trees behind him.

“Looking good, my man.” Samuel supplies, opening his arms for what he and Alice call a “masculine affirming” hug, one that includes hard back slapping as to not confuse respect with affection, god forbid. 

Levi grins as he pulls back from the embrace, waving his hand in dismissal. “Oh, I just threw whatever on for the trip.”

He’s “thrown on” a Grey Prince of Wales suit, a deliberate comment it seems he's trying to make on his wealth and status. Samuel smiles tightly at him, unable to completely hide his distaste for the man.

Levi’s grin doesn’t falter but there’s something in his eyes that changes, darkens, and it makes Samuel's hair stand on end. Levi raises an arm to clap Samuel on the shoulder, squeezing just tight enough to hurt.

“Guess we’re going to be taking your company hunting trip virginity here, huh, Sammy?”

Levi grins, an unreadable twinkle in his eyes. 

Samuel has asked Levi multiple times to not call him Sammy.

The whole setup is just what Samuel expected. The cottage is around a 10-minute walk deeper into the forest from where they parked. What Samuel has gathered is that their boss has bought out the entire hunting ground. It shouldn't come as a surprise to Samuel, really. One of the first rules of being overwhelmingly rich is to make sure everyone else knows it too.

The walk there with Levi is full of surface-level jargon that Samuel himself doesn’t even fully understand yet. He’s just learned to speak it. 

When they finally reach their boss’s cottage Samuel doesn’t miss the way his other two coworkers, James and Richard, straighten, puff out their chests, and stand with their legs spread the slightest bit, as if sizing up competition. The only one who seems at ease is their boss, Arthur Easton.

He sits comfortably in a black armchair, legs crossed and a scotch glass of amber liquid in his right hand. He wears a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A harsh contrast to the thousand-dollar suits that hang off the bodies of the rest of the men who stand around him.

In all of his five years working for this company and seeing his coworkers flash grossly expensive watches, wear customized suits from elusive fashion designers, or rotate through a seemingly endless amount of exotic cars, he’s only ever felt envious of the man sitting in the chair in front of him. Of the man who, in a room filled with 4 other men who are draped in materialistic things to prove their own power, isn’t intimidated in the least. He doesn’t have to be. In fact, he can wear a semi-expensive dress shirt and simple black pants and bask in the way the simple act gives him even more power.

As Samuel's gaze lingers on the man once again, that envy is simply reinforced. He sees the way the others look at him. With respect and a hint of fear. Oh, how Samuel would love to be looked at like that.

He bets Levi would stop calling him Sammy, then. 

"We know the rules, don't we boys?"

James Williams stands in the middle of the weapons room, a fierce grin on his face. He’s been Easton’s number two for around seven years now and by the way he confidently maneuvers around the cottage, always vying for control of the conversation, Samuel can tell he wants everyone to know it, too. But Samuel notices that he only ever does so after a quick glance to Easton, only after a subtle nod from the latter does he puff out his chest and speak confidently, like a kid who's been told they've done a good job. 

Samuel tried to keep his face neutral when they entered the hunting room. He tried not to let the unsteady feeling that started in his chest spread to his limbs as he took in the amount of guns and knives that hung on the walls.

“Only knives.” James was saying, his eyes glued to his own reflection in the severe dagger he's picked up. “Guns are the easy way out, a way of wielding your power from a distance. And that’s not really power, is it?”

 The room is silent with the question. Samuel steals a glance at those around him. Levi wears a rare sober expression on his face. The fourth man, Richard Evans, regards James with an almost disinterested gaze. And then there's Easton, whose presence is claustrophobic, filling the room, pressing in on everything.

It's only when James glances at the latter, and sees that approval once again his eyes light up and that grin fills his face once again. There’s something animalistic about it, Samuel thinks. In the way his pupils dilate the smallest bit. In the way his incisor glints in the overhead light.

“Alright then. Shall we hunt, boys?”

“You ready?” Levi is whispering to Samuel, bouncing from foot to foot, a thin sheet of sweat shimmering off his toned torso. All the men were bare to their boxers and in regular instances, the others would be cringing in regular homophobic fashion at being surrounded by almost naked men but because they were hunting, they had to get in touch with their primal sides. Samuel watched as James swung his arms back and forth and how Richard paced in small circles. Samuel would assume the constant movement was from the slight autumn breeze and lack of clothes but he witnessed all three men take down enough shots of vodka to lose count and do a couple lines of a white powder that made their pupils dilate and howls burst out of them after snorting it, as if the energy gained was too much to bear, and Samuel knew they couldn’t even feel the cold. He knew it because he couldn’t feel the cold either because he was right there with them. He could still taste the vodka in the back of his throat and his right nostril still burned enough to make his eyes water.

Easton was the only one who didn’t partake in the “fun”. Instead, he watched, always a short distance away. A surveying yet amused smile on his face. As if he were the circus director and the other men were his band of monkeys and he was making them dance, dance, dance.

The sun was starting to set and a warm glow was making the moment seem almost surreal. Samuel had a knife in his hand. Its plastic handle was cool and lighter than he thought it would be. He tried to imagine himself actually using it but instead, he could only think of how Alice always had to look away in movies when the kill strike came. 

Finally, when the sun was low enough to cast shadows on his face, Easton cleared his throat, telling them that it was time to start. It's the first time he smiles all night.

“The one to bring back to best kill will get a bonus.”

Samuel doesn't have time to think about what the characteristics of a "best" kill would be because as soon as Easton utters the words, Levi whoops and James and Richard take off running into the forest, their blades nothing more than a blur as they pump their arms.

Samuel, does the same, of course.

He feels small branches and leaves whack him as he sprints, scraping the soft spots of his arms, his torso, his face but it only makes him feel more like a part of the forest in a way. 

Here, he’s not a businessman, it’s not about who appeals the most to potential clients. It’s about strength. It’s about power. It's about survival.

It’s only when his heartbeat starts to die down and he looks around the forest that he feels unexplainable terror start to creep up in him. 

What am I doing?

He thinks the thought vaguely. It cuts through the fog in his brain, it cuts through the drugs and the alcohol and the flashes of Alice. 

The rapid succession of crunching leaves announcing someone's presence interrupts his thoughts. A couple moments later Levi bursts through the trees and as soon as his crazed eyes land on Samuel, he grins. He spreads his arms open, his chest filled with small scratches from the branches.

“Sammy, you know what we’re doing here, right? We’re hunting. Not standing around.”

Samuel opens his mouth to respond but Levi comes closer and closer cutting him off.

“You can’t just stand around waiting. What the fuck are you waiting for? If you’re not going after what you want, you know what that makes you? That makes you prey.”

The condescension in his voice makes Samuel grit his teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about-”

He lets out an oomph as Levi comes close enough to shove him, making him stumble back a few steps.

“Are you prey, Sammy?” He asks, and Samuel recognizes that same darkness in his eyes he noticed earlier. It's like a mask has come off and Levi can't hide anything behind his 100-watt grin and Amarni suits now. Samuel holds out an arm to stop Levi from coming closer but trips over something hard on the ground.

Levi lets out a laugh and it's loud and boisterous and grates on every nerve in Samuel.

Before Samuel can get up, Levi pounces, straddling Samuel, and pinning his arms under his knees.

“Levi, get the fuck off-”

The only thing that stops Samuel's protest is the cool feel of a knife on his throat and the look of frenzy in Levi’s eyes. Levi leans close to his face, so close Samuel can count his freckles, see every pore. He bares his teeth.

“Are you prey, Sammy?”

The questions freezes Samuel and he couldn’t respond if he wanted to, the terror flowing through him has made his tongue lead in his mouth, his muscles cement.

“What’s going on here, boys?” It's James' voice that booms through the tension that coats the moment. Levi flinches, taking the knife away from Samuel’s throat quickly. He lets out a velvety laugh.

“Was just messing with the newbie.’

As Samuel glances over at James and Richard and sees the same exhilaration in their eyes, it makes his blood boil. It makes his muscles flex and it makes a rage he’s never felt before bloom deep in his core. 

I am not prey. He thinks.

Samuel bucks his hips suddenly, causing Levi to fall to the side. Levi curses but Samuel kicks in the direction of his stomach, as hard as he can and the groan Levi lets out sets Samuel's blood on fire. He wants to do it again. He wants to stomp on his whole body until he’s begging and pleading and looking at him like all the other men look at Easton. 

With fear.

With respect.

He doesn’t. Instead, he hops up, grabs his knife and runs. 

As he does, he hears hoots and howls behind him from the other men, and the sounds of joy are laced with persecution. He runs until the trees start to look different. He sees a hedge and doesn’t even think of the branches tearing at his bare skin as he hurtles through.

The only thing that stops his forward bolt is the sharp tang of blood that hits him like a wall. 

Blood covers the green earth, a deer in the middle of it, softly crying. 

He approaches slowly and the deer doesn’t even shift when Samuel comes to stand over it. Her. He realizes clearly and horrifyingly. A tiny deer lays in the blood. 

She’s giving birth.

“Holy shit.”

Samuel doesn’t even jump when he hears James’s voice behind him, too shocked at the scene before him.

“Good find, Sam.” Richard murmurs and the awe in his tone makes Samuel feel like liquid gold is thrumming through his veins.

There’s a moment of silence before Levi lets out a laugh.

“He’s not gonna do anything. He’s just standing there ‘cause he’s scared shitless. You wanna step aside and let one of the men get to it, eh, Sammy?”

Samuel snaps his gaze to the men, standing behind him. While Levi's expression is mocking, there’s something a little unsure in his eyes. In that moment, Samuel feels his hand tighten on the knife and looks back to the deer giving birth. To the babe that has just begun its life. What the men behind him are expecting him to do is unfathomable.

But in the stares he feels hitting his back, he feels the potential respect, power, filling the air around them, thick but not solid. Not yet. He sees how they look at Easton. He sees Alice, a secret smile on her face, one that laughs at how different Samuel is from the men around him. How much kinder. He sees Levi, his taunting gaze.

Are you prey, Sammy?

Out of everything, it's the thing that makes his hand tighten around the hilt of the knife. The thing that makes him puff out his chest and stand with his legs spread the slightest bit more than usual.

“I’m not prey.” He whispers to himself. He puts it out into the forest. He puts it out to the world.

I’m not prey.

Then, a few moments later and multiple slashes to the right spots, he wasn’t.

“Same thing, next year?” James says, grinning while clapping Samuel on the shoulder the next morning. Samuel smiles back to him, searching his eyes and finding nothing but intrigue there. It makes Samuel wonder if he imagined what happened last night. But no. He still had to clean specks of blood from underneath his fingernails this morning.

“Hell, yeah.” He grins back.

He gets a handshake from Richard and Levi gives him a nod. Samuel notices the latter breaks eye contact quicker than usual. The speck of intimidation in his eyes almost makes everything seem worth it.

Samuel watches the men filter out towards the parking lot, suits glinting in the sunlight as they head to their expensive vehicles in unhurried steps. They're the picture of power. And they all respect him.

It fills him with an overwhelming feeling. It feels like the sun is filling him up and lighting his insides on fire in the best way. It almost distracts him from his own fear that pokes at the edges of his mind. The fear that burrows itself into the soft parts of his heart. That whispers what have you done? over and over again. 

Easton gives him a nod, and his own secret smile as Samuel heads towards his Maserati. 

Alice had always been fascinated by the way Samuel could blend in so much with his coworkers. The way he could switch seamlessly from cutthroat businessman to loving fiance. She always murmured how lucky she was, to be getting married to a man, who, surrounded by so much bad, still managed to be good. She called him a chameleon. 

That night when he gets home, Alice gives him a grin, joking that he can change his color back to its original shade.

This time, when he laughs, he makes sure his eyes crinkle so that she can’t see the guilt that swirls in his irises.

This time, when he thinks of the cutthroat businessman and the loving fiance, he wonders which one he’s pretending to be.