Love Lost and Found

He slowed his steps and drew a deep, shuddering breath. Running through the streets wouldn’t do. People would notice him. //Hell, they’ll probably notice you anyway.// A tiny voice inside his head said //There’s blood on your shirt and hands... and your throat looks as though somebody just slit it...//
Confusedly he looked around. He didn’t know the streets he was walking through. He couldn’t even recall having been to this part of the town before. //Where ever this part may be...// he thought bitterly. //What do I do now?//

He shrank back against the wall and tried to blend in with the crowd of passers-by, as Orlando looked around. //He seems truly lost.// he thought //Good.// A sly smile spread over his face as he detached himself from the wall again and followed the object of his attention once more.
//Mortensen is safely out of the way and he’s all alone here... this could be the chance to truly get him... to make him mine for real....// he shuddered with pleasure as he recalled the way Orlando had screamed beneath him. //I will make you scream again.// he vowed //Oh yes, my little whore. You will scream for me again.//

He shivered and glanced around again nervously. He had the creepy feeling of being watched. Watched by eyes that meant no good. Looking around his feeling of discomfort deepened. He knew nobody here and the small hunting-knife weighed heavil his his pocket. He began to walk faster again, shuddering as he heard steps that matched his own. //There’s truly someone following me... But who? And why? What if it is the guy who...// he gulped as a lump formed in his throat //who killed Viggo?//

//Fuck!// he cursed silently //he’s getting nervous... he must have noticed me.// He slowed his steps again and fell behind a little, so that Orlando could not notice him. //He’d probably recognise me... I can’t just snatch hif thf the street... I need another way to get him...// he grinned evilly //yes, that may just be the way...//

He almost screamed out loud, as a hand grabbed hold of his shoulder. Dazedly he stared at the man who had seized him.
“Mr Bloom? Are you alright? Your shirt is bloody...”
“I killed him!” Orlando blurted out, staring wide-eyed at the police-man. “I killed him... I did not mean to...”
“Calm down, Mr Bloom.” Officer MacLachlan said soothingly “We’ll get this sorted out. Do you want to come to the police-station with me?”
Orlando nodded dumbly and followed MacLachlan to the car, relieved to get away from whoever had been following him.

“Mr Bloom? Mr Bloom?” reluctantly Orlando looked up at Officer MacLachlan.
“This,” said MacLachlan, gesturing towards the woman at his side “is Dr. Samantha Coyle, our psychologist. She’ll talk to you, okay?”
Orlando nodded again, glancing shyly at the woman in front of him. She did not look like a psychologist. Orlando exhaled the breath he had held, glad that MacLachlan had finally gone. Somehow the man made him feel uneasy. Something about him reminded him of something. But he couldn’t say what.
“So...” Doctor Coyle said slowly “you said that you killed someone?”
“Yes... no... I mean....” stuttered Orlando “I... I didn’t kill him... but... he was killed because of me...” he finished in a whisper.
“And why do you think that?” Dr Coyle asked, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears and gazing intently at Orlando, who was staring at the floor again.
“Because...” the young man mumbled. Dr Coyle took a pen and a little notebook out of her bag, while a heavy silence filled the room. Finally Orlando resumed speaking. “The attacker... the one who stabbed Viggo... he was there because of me... it was me he wanted... if Viggo hadn’t tried to help me, he wouldn’t be dead now!” Sobbing Orlando looked up with tear-filled eyes. “He is dead because of me...”
“How can you know that it was you the attacker wanted?” the doctor asked and leaned slightly forward.
“He knew my name...” “Have you seen him before? Do you know his face?”
“No... no I don’t... he was masked.... a ski mask... black...” Orlando whispered, shaking violently.
“Orlando...” Dr Coyle said softly “I understand that this might be difficult for you buneedneed to know what happened. Do you understand?”
Orlando nodded again but kept quiet.
“Orlando? Please talk to me. What happened? How did he get in?”
“I don’t know... I woke up when he grabbed me... I had fallen asleep on the sofa...”
“What did he do after he grabbed you?” “I... no... no...” Orlando wrapped his arms around himself, his body rocked by tremors. “No... I don’t want to talk about that... I don’t want to remember.... I won’t....”
Dr Coyle frowned. “Did he.. touch you? Intimately?” Orlando just shook his head, silent tears falling from his eyes as he couldn’t stop shaking.
“I think that’s enough for now, Orlando.” Dr Coyle said, sympathy in her eyes. “Just wait, while I talk to Officer MacLachlan again, okay?”
Orlando nodded and Dr Coyle left the room, already trying to make sense of what she had heard.

“How is he?” MacLachlan asked and looked at the door that separated him and Doctor Coyle from Orlando. “Not too good.” The doctor replied. “judging from his reaction he has been raped. Did you check his house?”
“Yes.” MacLachlan nodded with what seemed to be satisfaction. “The window in the bathroom was smashed. If there was a burglar he might have got in that way.”
“What do you mean by “if there was a burglar”?”
“Did you see that wound on Mr Bloom’s throat?”
“Yes, why? I assumed the attacker had...”
“No.” MacLachlan shook his head decisively. “He tried to kill himself a few days. I . I think that Mortensen he lives with is responsible for that.”
Doctor Coyle nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have proof?”
“I hadn’t.” Mahlanhlan grinned in triumph. “But I think that I have some now. We found Mortensen in the corridor of his house. He has been stabbed but he is still alive. He’s in hospital now and the doctors say that his chances of survival are very high.”
“But where’s your proof, Kyle?” Coyle asked again.
“Mr Bloom’s fingerprints were on the knife. I think that he and Mortensen had an argument and things got... well, let’s say a little rough. So when Mortensen tried to force himself on the boy in there,” he pointed at the room Orlando was in, “Mr Bloom finally worked up the courage to defend himself. The knife he used was taken from the kitchen.”
“That makes sense.” Agreed Coyle “And it fits in with his behaviour. You should get him to hospital, too. He’s got a very bad shock.”
“Of course.” MacLachlan nodded. “I just have to wait till Mortensen awakes.”

Tbc...