#hunter whumper

[zoe-and-quinn]

Vampire Whumpee P.2

Part 1

TW: Burning, captivity, sadistic whumper, nailed to a tree, gagged, restrained, dehumanization

The walk back to the hunters' camp felt like it took days. Whumpee's ankle was on fire, nerves refusing to die as their body tried to heal.

It wouldn't heal, not with the silver still clamping onto their bone. They tried to be thankful that their bones were immune to the burning agony, but it was hard when every step brought tears to their eyes.

They managed to make it to the camp with only a few stumbles, only a few shallow scrapes that were already healing. The sight of the clearing ahead brought a sense of relief.

Finally, no more walking.

The relief fled when they felt a hand in their hair, yanking their head back once more. "How about we get you nice and comfy, leech? Gotta make sure you won't be making any escape attempts when we're all asleep."

Whumpee whimpered, wanting so badly to beg for some form of mercy. But the sound only made the hunter grin, tightening his grip. "I think I have just the thing."

Suddenly, they felt the ropes around their wrists being cut, and their hands immediately went to the gag. If they could get just a few words in, they could make them understand.

The hunter grabbed their wrists tightly. "Oh no you don't," he growled. "I've got plans for these. Oi, someone get me one of those nails."

Whumpee's heart sank. They started pulling against the hunter frantically, trying to get away, away, away-

The hunter spun them around and slammed their back into a nearby tree, forcing all the air out of them. For a few moments, they just floundered, struggling to breathe, to see straight.

Then, they caught sight of a hammer, and the grin worn by its bearer.

Aaaand they were thrashing again.

"I'll hold its hands," said the hunter pushing them against the tree. "Make sure you get in between the bones, don't want it to rip its wrists in two."

Whumpee was sobbing, shaking their head as their hands were pushed up against the wood. The one with the hammer pulled a single nail out of their pocket, a long one with a wide head.

And then the point was resting on their pinned wrists, stacked on top of each other on that cursed tree, and they were crying, shaking, screaming, bleeding-

It went through their wrists easily, like a knife through butter. The tree was tougher. It took a few hits before the nail was deep enough to trap them like a pinned bug.

The hunter who had held them still was grinning as he pulled down lightly on their arm. "There you go, bloodsucker," he murmured, grabbing their chin and forcing their gaze upwards, forcing them to look him in his cruel, delighted eyes.

"Trapped and tamed. Just what monsters like you deserve."

Thank you to @scoundrelwithboba who requested a second part! Hope you like it!

[whumpingisfun]

Watching cold case files and thinking about a whumper who’s been so good at going undetected. So good at being able to slip in and out, maiming and killing their victims. Until whumpee. Whumpee, the one who got away. Who’s seen their face.

Now the game has changed.

Time for a chase.

[zoethehead]

And... first time making a bad guy with this app.

Also the one bad guy from an rp encounter that lives rent free in my head for some reason.

Atlas, the brutal hunter of monsters

[painful-pooch]

A Hunter's Intuition

Whumptober 2022 (@whumptober)

NO. 2 - NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

Tag list: @whumpopology, @whumper-in-training, @ocean-blue-whump, and @for-the-love-of-angst

CW: Hunting people, serial killer vibes, gun violence, lady whump, blood, knives

The clock ticks away in the rustic cabin, announcing with its incessant sounds how each second goes by while Levi sits in his recliner, his legs crossed and his eyes focused on the outside scenery, watching the forest practically breathe in the wind. It's been over an hour now since he let her have a head start on their fun little game. She never enjoys playing the game, but Levi doesn't give a shit. He's already dressed up for the occasion, but there are a few key elements of his missing. The fire crackles in the background while the clock... keeps... ticking...

Second.

After.

Second.

Everything goes silent for a moment, Levi inhaling deeply and forcing himself out of the recliner, sneaking up to the window to gaze out of it with a different view- a different mindset. There's now an urge building up within him, catching on like wildfire and spreading without any sign of it stopping. It all begins with a deadly focus, looking for any sign of life in the distance, from the smoke of a campfire to the sight of a flock of birds taking off from a specific area... Or even catching the melodic screams of someone ensnared by a bear trap.

Then, just as he thinks she has learned how to not give away her location, a tugging sensation is felt from deep inside, a hunger that is known to all predators before the hunt. He knows it's the adrenaline working its way through him, but it's like a drug to him; one that he welcomes with open arms. It makes everything so much clearer, but it makes his finger tap against the window sill. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick. Tock. Tick.

He exhales harshly, tearing away from the window and heads over to his trophy room, seeing the countless animals he's hunted from all around the world. He rarely pays them any glances since they no longer bring him joy. Their hunts were meaningless and they didn't offer him a challenge whatsoever. Something about an animal makes their hunting lackluster, and it could be because of many things. For Levi, it's because an animal doesn't truly know what the stakes are nor what the consequences are for being caught. An animal doesn't yearn to live out of want, but only after need and some inherent instinct embedded in them by the laws of nature.

But a person? No, they don't need to live. There's already plenty of people around the damn planet. There's a level of intrigue when it comes to a human for Levi. He finds them complex and interesting during a hunt. Some people will fight back, some will run until they can't, and others try to beg their way out of their fate, but in the end, they are still prey to him. Only rarely does he enjoy a person enough to hunt them continuously, but this one… she's a keeper. There's a fire in her eyes that he finds captivating, even at the moment she's caught and punished for being caught.

His fair Lady is out there, and he can't stop thinking of how beautiful she truly becomes when streaks of red compliment her tear stricken eyes. The image itself drives him into a frenzy, ripping open the gun safe and gazing at his collection of hunting rifles, running his fingers along the cool gun metal of the barrel. He imagines how warm it will become when he pulls the trigger to send a round into his wonderful victim, his heart skipping a beat and a gentle smile decorating his face. This is the rifle he wants, and so he pulls it out, shuts the safe with a loud clang, and steps back, looking at himself in the mirror.

He is used to seeing a dapper man in a suit and tie, leading a company into financial success from his position as a Chief Financial Officer, but that's not who is staring back at him. He's staring into the eyes of someone with an apathetic look, his body both rigid yet fluid, his gaze as cold as ice yet his smile can warm the coldest of glaciers. He sees a man determined to end this hunt by the time dinner rolls around. It is like a switch that Levi can feel whenever he enters into that safe haven within his mind.

And he loves it.

The ticking of the clock continues, but quickly it turns into the crunching of the leaves under his boots, the slight clanging of the extra ammo in his chest pocket along with his knife, and the sounds of the forest dying away as the hunter enters the playing field.

It's simply cathartic in a sense that the animals of the forest don't fear Levi anymore; they don't get hunted and killed constantly, so why should they run in terror from the hunter? Levi never chases them and if they do get caught in a trap, he releases them and sometimes even cares for them. More often do the animals watch a person fleeing away from Levi. And that is exactly what is happening.

Levi has been playing this game for so long, he doesn't have to run after her. He practically has her in the palm of his hand. He can see everything she does based off the evidence she is leaving behind like an amateur. She's had so much time to perfect her skills, yet clumsy mistakes always make the hunt more comical. Though it doesn't matter to him just as long as he gets to enact his every desire unto her, to watch her eyes convey fear, animosity, and most important of all, to see the loss of hope. Her screams, as melodious as they are, can never compete against the sobs that erupt from her when she attempts to hold them back. All in a simple effort to spite him.

There is a fire now, scorching his very being and it can only be satiated by the blood he's going to spill.

Minute by minute, hour after hour, he follows her until he plans out his next move, to force her into a position where she can't escape him. He unslings his rifle from his back, seeing her trying to alleviate the pain from her constant movements next to a river. His heart pitter patters with each passing second. Thump. Thump. Thump. He loads in the beautiful bullet he has pressed himself after he melted the golden ring she had on when he first brought her to his home right into the chamber. With his next breath, he uses the action bolt to send the bullet home, now focusing on his prey through the scope. He thinks about how wonderful her screams will sound soon, a smile forming on his face. One more deep breath he inhales, letting about two-thirds of it out, and he goes perfectly still, rechecking his aim.

Without a second to wait, he pulls the trigger, the quiet forest now echoing with the thunderous bang of a rifle followed by a shriek and then a splash.

His prey has fallen into the river and now is trying to get up, but before she can fully prop herself up, Levi laughs and approaches her, his silver knife glistening beautifully with the setting sun setting in the horizon. He has her cornered, no where to go. He crouches in front of her, watching her pant and try to back away, wincing while holding her wound tightly. His eyes read her and then he is caught by the sight of her blood mixing in with the water and following the current of the river. "Beautiful… Your blood is equal to no one," he murmurs, looking down at her and forcing her chin up with his knife. "Did you have fun? Did you really think you could outsmart me?"

She snarls at him and spits on his face as a response before growling out, "Go fuck yourself."

There it is again. The world going still around him as he feels the switch once more in his mind flip. His body is rigid and his knife is an extension of him, procuring a droplet of blood at the tip. "I like you better when you scream."

When the knife enters her thigh roughly, a guttural scream plays loudly in his mind and he knows he's won.

He always wins.

[antibigotwhumpblog]

Crucifixion Pt.6

(Prev, Next, Masterlist)

Cw: Whump, Toxic Christianity

Heleigh had never heard of such an act of bastard magick before. She cringed from fear as he approached her, and planted his lips on her forehead. There was a loud snap, and then white agony as a cascade of cracks exploded around the room. She tried to scream, but her voice was robbed from her. Her legs malformed themselves over and over again till they were nothing but a shredded snake's skin on the ground. After a minute, her voice returned to her. She released her anguish in one horrendous cry. Her body was drained of the energy to do anything but slump against her binds. The man watched the scene hungrily but also did not hesitate to resume himself. He narrowly avoided the floppy, jagged pile of flesh and bones to press the syringe once again into her stomach. Her eyes trailed his fingers, and a soft chorus of no escaped her mouth. His face twisted furiously, and he pushed the fluid into her system. She sobbed. He injected two more after that and then returned to the table behind her. Angels weren't meant to get sick. Humans were the only sentient beings with a body system beyond their souls. Still, Heleigh head got painfully foggy. Her eyes and nose started to burn, and her eardrums start to pound. She swayed in her binds. Her stomach started to feel ghastly. The color drained from her face. Suddenly, actual vomit erupted from her throat and spewed out of her mouth. Angels were supposed to be holy. Instead, the acid burned her throat tissue and covered her mouth and body. She groaned pitifully. Her world was a myriad of black and smelled putrid.

The human scoffed, "You make me sick."

He hurled a stone at her head. It clonked against her skull and busted it open. Harrowing pain bounced against the wall of her head. He started to chuck rocks at her without hesitation. She moaned after each one. Vomit erupted out of her as her organs complained. The intense ache that became her being drove her mad. He ran out of rocks eventually. Heleigh tasted and smelled only iron. She was completely drenched in her bodily fluids. Her anxiety spiked as she waited for the next method of torture. Instead, he chucked an incense holder down at her feet. He kneeled next to her. Heleigh was too exhausted to say anything. Her wings had subsided to sting dully, but beyond the headache and throb of her body, she could feel the frail flesh dying. She was forced to pay attention when he slapped her. The sharp tingle mixed with the agony. She refocused her eyes on him. He had an incense stick next to her nose.

"This is incense dedicated to Bahal," He told her.

Heleigh sputtered, "No-no. Child, God hates idols-" She groaned and coughed, "-Seek his forgiveness."

He placed the stick in the holder directly underneath her and lit it. The smoke entered her nostrils, and she exploded into a seizure of hacks. The burn withered through her body, and she screamed. She wheezed. Vomit, acid, and blood covered the air. The man had moved again. Suddenly, ear bursting trumpet filled the room. The Song of the Devil. She screamed louder than she ever had in her immortal life.

[spiralofwhump]

Marius & Oskar - Thank You

I had such bad writers block I'm sorry ;-; This isn't very long but enjoy!

CW/TW: Marius being annoying, Vampire Whumpee, Hunter Whumper, Manhandling (?), Slapped, Broken ribs, Oskar is diagnosed with daddy issues

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Taglist: @whumpsday , @mannerofwhump , @redwhump

──────────────────

"Repeat after me, and listen carefully. Thank you, Master."

"Fuck you, dipshit."

Marius spoke through clenched teeth; this has been going on for hours now. Oskar's gravely voice began to feel like sandpaper on the vampire's eardrums. Marius leaned forward, the chains around his wrists jerking him back in protest. "Just because you spared the rest of my fingers from being cut off doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to call you whatever you want-" Marius gave a hollow chuckle, tilting his head up and meeting Oskar's chilling green eyes.

"Nothing more shameful than a hunter that thinks they are the one in control. You don't scare me with all your pitiful threats, no matter how much you try."

Oskar didn't move, not a single muscle in his face twitched or gave away what he was thinking. Marius had experience reading people's faces but this was unsettling. Oskar was a still as a statue, and his eyes were as soulless as one, dim and cold. If Marius didn't know any better, he'd think Oskar soulless.The hunter held up a finger and spoke in an eerily calm tone, but Marius knew better, he knew just how much Oskar wanted to lash out. "I'll give you one more chance to redeem yourself from this outburst. Repeat after me, thank you Master."

"And I'll say this once again- Fuck. You." A whirlwind of irritation and anger flooded Marius's chest; this is getting absurd as this point! "I've seen my share of pathetic hunters but you're truly miserable. You mentioned your dad before, was he a hunter? God I wonder how he'd react if he saw just how pitiful you-"

SMACK

Marius's head snapped to the side as a hand glided across his face, leaving behind an angry red mark. His eyes widened in utter shock, staring at the ground in silence. But before Marius could compose himself a boot struck him in the gut, causing the vampire to slump to the ground and cradle his gut, brows furrowed with agony. Oskar's boot shoved Marius onto his back and pressed down on his ribs, "If you mention my father one more time..." Oskar pressed down a little harder on Marius's chest, who gasped and winced, "I-I won't! Just- get off of me you bastard!"

But Oskar simply applied more and more of his weight in response. "Be quiet, leech. I'm speaking and it's awfully rude to interrupt your master. You don't speak until I say so, understood?" Marius nodded frantically in understanding, hissing through his teeth as the pressure on his bruised ribs multiplied.

"Good. See, you're learning. But we still have a long way to go, so as a reminder to keep your mouth shut and to never utter a word about my family again I'll simply..." And without hesitation, Oskar pressed all his weight onto Marius's chest. A cacophony of rapid wet snaps and cracks rang out followed by a scream from Marius, who looked like he bit his tongue a bit too hard as borderline black blood began to stream down his chin. Marius choked out hiccups and groans, blood from his tongue flying everywhere.

Oskar rolled his eyes, "Disgusting." He shook his head in pity and snapped his fingers, "Look at me, vampire." Reluctantly, Marius twisted his head and looked up at Oskar's terrifying height and build. "Good leech. Now, tell me- Do you know why I did that?" Oskar leaned down, tilting his head to the side as he watched Marius's stare at him with absolute molten hatred in his eyes. Okay then, if he wants to be quiet then he'll simply have to make the thing speak. Oskar wrenched his boot, smiling as he listens to the sound of crunching bone. It's almost enough to make even him shudder.

Marius kicked his feet and cried out, "F-Fuck! Fine!" Marius squeezed his eyes shut, his body trembling faintly as he felt stray bone crunch with each twitch of his body. The ends of Oskar's lips formed a smile, "Oh? Well, answer me then; I'm waiting." Marius hesitantly opened his eyes and turned his head, spitting blood.

"I-...I spoke about your father and, and I spoke out of tur-turn..." The vampire took a deep breath and glanced up at his kidnapper, "Happy?" Oskar stood in silence before jamming his foot down on Marius's chest, "No. Apologize, properly this time."

"Stop stop stop! Okay! Okay!" Marius pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes as the pain attacked his every sense. Marius rested the back of his head on the floor and choked out, "I-I'm sorry. I am so sorry for speaking out of turn, and for mentioning your father. D-Don't hurt me..." Simple as that, Oskar lifted his boot and took a step back. Watching on as a single tear ran down Marius's face. Oskar felt pride well up in his chest, seeing Marius fold so easily after something as simple as this. "That wasn't so easy, now was it?"

Marius nodded, distant eyes half-lidded as the pain clouded his mind and the pressure on his chest dissipated. In a desperate attempt to stop his kidnapper from doing anymore damage, he did the only thing he thought would satisfy the man. He thanked him.

"Thank you..."

"Thank you...what?"

"Th-Thank you...Master.."

[avvail-whumps]

I’m just thinking about a vampire hunter who lost their arm. They replace it with a prosthetic one made out of silver. Imagining the pain when they grab a vampire, or pin them down by their neck while their skin burns under the silver and there’s nothing they can do because it hurts so much. Fingers desperately trying to find something other than the arm to grab onto to try and pry them off.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 50: Frank's Mistake

Prev > Masterlist > Next

tw: hypnosis

July 1905

It was hot as blazes out, even in the dead of night, and sweat was pouring off Frank's brow and rolling down his back as he waited in the filthy alley. It was much too hot to wear a leather jacket, but he wasn't stupid enough to go hunting without some protection from fangs and knives, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

Going home empty-handed wasn't an option, not tonight. His gambling debts were catching up with him at a rate his part-time kitchen gig would never cover. He feared bookies more than he feared bloodsuckers. After all, he couldn't ram a stake through the heart of a bookie, not unless he wanted to end up in jail.

And so, here he was, pursuing the lowest of low hanging fruit -- the fledglings that tended to gather on Sparrow Road near the railroad tracks. The payout was small but practically guaranteed, as long as he waited long enough. He just had to stake some unfortunate freshly-risen corpse, pull the fangs, and plunk them down at the guild for a reward. Far less rewarding than staking an old vampire with a manor full of loot, but beggars can't be choosers.

He was leaning his head against the brick, looking up at the moon, wishing a cool breeze would break the sweltering heat, when... 

...he heard something odd. Something like music. Something that pulled on his attention.

A drunkard or merrymaker singing, perhaps? But the music wasn't raucous or off-key, it was...

...beautiful...

Only the softest of alarm bells rang in his mind as he left his hidden post to go wandering down the street in search of the source of the song. There were no vampires around anyway. He'd go look, and be back to his vigil in a few minutes.

The beautiful music grew louder as he stumbled into an alcove between buildings, finally finding the singer. He was a young man, pale and handsome under the moonlight, with possibly the most gorgeous voice that Frank had ever heard, one that wrapped around him like a warm blanket and coaxed him gently forward.

He was a vampire.

Shit!

That's what that delicious feeling trickling down his spine was -- enthrallment. He'd felt it before, of course, but never this strong, never so thick in his mind that trying to think was like wading through molasses, never catching him so off guard that he very nearly fell for it. 

Relax... don't fight...

He reached for his silver knife, his limbs already heavy and slow. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from being taken entirely by that maddening voice.

The vampire didn't seem threatened in the slightest, even once Frank's clumsy fingers managed to pull the knife from its sheath. He stepped closer, his song intensifying, with a placid expression and piercing blue eyes. Frank tried to raise the knife, to assume a defensive posture, to do anything, anything at all, but sway in time to the vampire's song.

Relax, relax... no need to fight... no need to resist...

Why... why was his enthrallment so goddamned strong? Why did it feel so... so... so infuriatingly good?

The knife slipped from his hands and clattered to the cobblestones as the vampire closed the distance between them.

"You can relax," said the vampire in a musical tone. "Just relax. I'm not going to harm you."

"Like hell," he said through gritted teeth, using all his willpower to resist. The vampire was so close. All he had to do was grab a stake and end it. If he didn't... well, he'd seen plenty of what happens to those enthralled by vampires.

He just had to... grab a stake...

"Relax, hunter. You don't need that." 

The vampire had the stake in his hand, tossing it aside. When did he --

He was going to die here. No, worse. He was going to be hypnotized by a vampire, made into one of their blood bag slaves. It had happened so fast, his mind snared by the song in an instant.

He'd let his guard down, too focused on his desperation and assuming that the only vampires near Sparrow Road would be weak fledglings. This vampire was obviously one of their nobility -- despite his simple dress, his bearing and power made that all too clear. He'd pay for this mistake for the rest of his life.

"Shh, shh." The vampire ruffled his hair with something like affection, leaning in close. "Just relax now, and let your mind quiet. Quiet, so that you can listen to me."

"I -- I don't --"

The vampire tilted Frank's chin up to gaze into his eyes, so blue, so deep, like the ocean. His song was deep as well, rolling like the tides, Frank's mind floating on the waves of the vampire's will.

So this was what it was like. So this was why so many thralls they rescued were in dazed bliss. Despite the threat to his life, it felt incredible. 

"You can rest, hunter. I swear I will not harm you. You can rest so safe and deep in my control."

"In... your..." His body had long ceased struggling, his arms heavy and hanging limply by his side, his head slowly lolling in time with the vampire's beautiful voice. Only the smallest of sparks in his mind remained. "You... you've hypnotized me," he said dumbly.

"Yes, I have. You're completely under my control now. But you have nothing to fear."

It was true, wasn't it? He couldn't move, could barely talk, and his ability to think was being stolen away by the moment. After all these years, he'd finally been caught. He'd be made a slave in this vampire noble's manor, his mind ensorcelled. His only hope would be one of his fellow hunters coming to destroy this monster and rescue him.

But who among the hunters could stand against this monster's voice, his irresistible aura?

Be still, the voice called to him, and he was so still, in body and in mind. Be still and listen. Relax and listen. Listen...

He blinked his heavy eyelids. Yes, he would listen. He'd listen to anything this vampire had to say. He'd listen to this song forever. He understood now why some thralls kicked and screamed to resist being rescued. 

"Believe it or not, I actually wish to hire you -- but I didn't think the guild would take kindly to a vampire striding in among them with a job. I have a task that requires a hunter. Many hunters, in fact."

"I'll do it..." His voice slurred, thick with drowsy enchantment.

"That's a good hunter," said the vampire, and Frank's heart soared. "Your task is to kill a vampire, actually, one far more of a threat to humanity than I am. Does that interest you?"

"I'm good at killing vampires. I can kill a vampire for you."

"The vampire in question is far more powerful than I am -- that's why it will take more than one. As many as I can hypnotize, really, and the more experienced, the better."

Frank nodded slowly.

"You wish to serve me, don't you?" the vampire hummed in his ear.

"Yes..."

"This is all you need to do for me tonight. I want you to go back to your guild and let them know that there are several dangerous vampires preying on humans in Bellwood Park. I wish for you to gather two or three of your companions and bring them there in the next few nights. When you arrive at Bellwood Park, you will not warn your companions in any way when you hear the sound of my voice. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"You'll help make sure they listen, just as you are. You want them to be as relaxed and content as you are right now, don't you?"

"Yes... they need to listen..."

"You won't breathe a word of me or my powers to anyone between now and then. This experience will seem like a distant, hazy dream until you hear my voice again. But you'd do anything to hear my voice again, wouldn't you?"

"Anything..."

"That's right, hunter, you're doing so well." The vampire hummed gently in his ear, further melting his mind into bliss. "Now let's repeat that a few times to make sure it all sinks in..."

Be quiet and listen.

And he did.

---

When Lex opened the door to his manor, he found the windows open to the night air, the gas lamps cheerfully flickering, and bright guitar music coming from the music room. The smell of bacon and eggs still hung in the air from his thrall's breakfast, as did the delectable scent of human.

After so many lonely years, his manor felt like a home instead of a grave.

He wanted to rush to greet Fitz, but it wouldn't do with the hunter's sweat all over his hands. It was a sordid business, but a necessary one. There was no doubt that no matter how many hunters he bound to his cause, no matter how much information and advantage he gave them, many would fall by his sire's hand.

But wouldn't a vampire hunter wish to die nobly in the service of destroying a great evil? They wouldn't die by his hand, but the Maestro's, and many other humans would be spared by their sacrifice. 

Truthfully, there was only one human whose safety concerned him.

Lex washed thoroughly to rid himself of the stench of fear and exertion, reflecting on the night's work as he splashed water onto his face. Tonight's find had been a lucky one, a seasoned hunter found by chance near a fledgling haunt, one who had connections to the guild. With luck, he'd bring more compatriots with him next time. It was a risky business to enthrall several trained hunters at once, but Lex was confident in his abilities. None had ever resisted his voice long enough to pose a threat.

Satisfied, he opened the door to the music room to find his precious thrall strumming his precious guitar, the gas light illuminating his golden hair. He looked up at Lex with that cheeky grin. "Well, good evening, sir, I was wondering where you were."

"I had some matters to attend to."

"Ah, yes, matters. That explains everything, sir." He laughed. "Is there anything I can do for you? I'm eager to serve, Master," he said, jovially sarcastic.

Oh, he was such a pleasure. So full of life. So blissfully unaware of how deeply he was ensorcelled. The perfect thrall, all for Lex to enjoy.

This was why. This was why he was going to risk himself consorting with hunters. This was why he had to kill his sire now, before he took Lex's precious thrall away and broke him, a treasure he'd never regain once lost. This was worth putting everything on the line.

His need was rising within him, spurred on by Lex's earlier expenditure of magic and the delicious aroma of blood that permeated the music room. "I think I would quite like to feed, if that's all right with you."

Fitz's hand dropped off the guitar strings, his eyes going wide and glassy on cue. "Yes, Master," he half-whispered, no hint of teasing in his voice now. "Please, Master, drink. I'm all yours."

"Yes," he said, taking the guitar away and settling it onto the stand. He sat down next to Fitz, cupping his chin in his hand. "Yes, you are. You're mine."

"I'm yours, sir."

Lex hummed in Fitz's ear. Unlike with the hunter, he didn't need to push obedience into Fitz's mind. It was already there, just under the surface, easily pulled to the forefront by Lex whenever he needed it. Instead, he gave Fitz the only thing he really seemed to want: to be wanted.

I want you, I want you, I want you.

Fitz gasped as Lex's fangs pierced the place where his neck met his shoulder, making truly indecent noises and gripping the back of Lex's shirt as Lex hungrily lapped at the blood. It was so impossibly delicious, like no other blood he had tasted, and Lex would do anything to be able to drink it for the rest of his days.

There was no doubt about it -- he was having feelings towards Fitz which were highly inappropriate to have towards a thrall.

As he drank, he could feel his memories and thoughts mixing with Fitz's, and welcomed the sensation, eager for Fitz to know how much he was cherished. In Fitz's thoughts, he could feel warm sunshine on his skin, the taste of a crisp apple in his mouth, the riotous colors of flowers in the spring. He could feel human. Almost human enough to love Fitz.

But he wasn't human. It was a fleeting illusion caused by their connection. He loved Fitz, but only in the ways a vampire could: the desire to possess, to control, to consume.

And Fitz would never love him in the ways of a human, either. He was hypnotized to feel pleasure and crave his master's feeding. Fitz's love was also nothing more than a fleeting illusion. 

But the illusion of sunshine was far better than none at all, and Lex was tired of denying his cravings for so long.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Wow, I can't believe it's been fifty parts of The Rare Bookseller! Thanks for reading this far, and thank you so much for all the reblogs, comments, and appreciation!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

[letitbehurt]

Whumpees held captive by self-sustaining, off-the-grid hunters.

Constant threats of becoming compost for the vegetable garden. Hunting knives designed to skin. Deer hooks in smokehouses. Bone saws normally used on antlers, but perfect for severing the offending feet off of a runaway. And even if they do run, Whumpee won’t get away. Whumper knows these surrounding woods like the back of their hand, and they’ve been tracking their own food for most of their life. Whumpee doesn’t stand a chance out here. They know that.

[whumpsoda]

Coming Back to Bite You Part 1 - Swept Up

Masterlist

Finally putting this out there, hopefully I continue it :) updates will probably be pretty slow and gradual!

cw: vampire whumper, kidnapping, hypnosis, alcohol use, mention of death

———————————————————————

He was going to throw up. 

Marshall gripped the can of beer in one calloused hand, taking an aggressive swig of the beverage, still cold droplets of liquid dribbling over his fingers. His throat bobbed with each continuing gulp, and his stomach churned in a boil of acidic bile. The bitter taste of alcohol coated his mouth, swishing off his tongue and dancing down his throat, until he realized he was going to choke. Marshall’s moist lips released the can with a weak gasp. 

He lazily dropped it to the concrete with a clang, the last sip of liquid slipping And seeping into the cracks of the concrete. With a groan he dug his trembling hands into the skin of his flushed face, bits of dried and cracked blood still crammed in rings underneath his crooked nails.

The sour smell of gore still tainted his runny nostrils, infecting the scent of his several tossed away and half finished drinks. Begrudged tears pricked at his eyes, leaving his vision glassy and wet as he desperately tried to wipe them gone.

He should’ve be used to it. Five plus years of vampire hunting experience should’ve prepared him, but it didn’t. It never did.

Marshall choked back a soft sob, brushing at his face roughly in an attempt to rid the tears stained with embarrassment. He didn’t know why he did it. Why he had for five years, and why he continued to. Why he still didn’t quit after seeing yet another young newbie die a gruesome death at the hand of a monstrous creature, with nothing to do to stop it.

How pathetic.

“Something wrong?”

His limbs froze rigid, the sharp, close words cutting through the nightly silence. He shifted, gaze meeting with that of a small woman seated neatly beside him. 

Her face was shadowed by the light shining upon her back, but he could still clearly see her soft grin and glittering eyes. 

“Um,” he sputtered, gears turning to catch his mind up with his mouth. “Leave, leave me alone.”

She grinned, eerily soft and sweet, tilting her head a smidge. The essence of a mother speaking to her child. “I’d love to help.”

Help? Puzzled anger bubbled bigger in his belly, only strengthened by her audaciousness. “I said,” he snarled, face twisting and seething, his crooked teeth bared in likeness to that of the creatures he was trained to kill. “Leave me alone.”

“Driving home?” 

Marshall groaned, sickly, taking a peek at his tattered old truck sitting in the empty lot. His vision shifted, rolling down to the can he’d placed beside his foot, previously filled with alcohol.

He gritted his teeth, grabbing the can once again and lifting it to his lips as the stranger watched. “Yeah? So what?” He spat, taking a petty sip. 

The woman sighed, her smug grin never so much as faltering. “Just thought I’d remind you.” She huffed, holding back a chuckle.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?” Marshall grumbled, glaring sharply at the stranger. She simply giggled, dripping with condescension, waving him off. Was it so hard to get five minutes to himself?

“Oh, you are very funny, dear. A bit temperamental as well, I see.” She chuckled again.

What was her problem?

That was it. It was not the time. The stranger obviously didn’t have anything better to do than irritate someone crying in the middle of nowhere covered in grime and vampire blood, and seemed to be having a good time with it. Marshall, on the other hand, was no short of seething.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his cheeks of sweat and tears and adjusting his coat. Without another word he stepped to leave.

To his surprise, shocking strength wrapped around his wrist, holding him back and leaving him unable to walk off.

“Oh, please don’t go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sit back down with me, won’t you?”

Marshall stared back in bewilderment at the woman firmly clutching his wrist. What? Confusion was boggling him, poking at his brain. Was she crazy? Who was she to think he would follow her request? After she’d been practically taunting him when he was obviously distressed?

Though-

He paused. He had meant to snap another insolent response, but nothing came out. Why did he-

His vision swiftly glazed over blurry, fogging up his eyes as they turned glassy and unfocused. Marshall wobbled in his spot, legs buckling and shivering with weakness. The ground spun under him, dizzying his head and coating his mind with wretched nausea. His fingers reached out for something to grab, something to stabilize him.

He needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit-

He lazily stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, plopping right back into his seat. This time, he was a smidge closer to the woman. Marshall’s head lolled into his hand, catching himself from such dizzying disorientation.

Why was he… back on the bench? Was he not just about to leave? Was she touching him?

Lightly she rubbed in circles over his back, a motion he almost took no notice of. “Sorry about that, dear. It’s alright now.”

“I… what…?” Marshall slurred, his mind still a thick sludge that desperately gripped the walls of his, hopeful not to slip further into befuddlement.

He… he’d felt similar. Before. Marshall knew the sensation well, the sensation of his brain slipping through his fingers like water, liquified and stolen right out from his own control. Stomped to mush.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no-

“Very pretty rings you have. Mind if I take a look?” She held his hand between both of her gloved ones, fingers trailing over silver that glimmered in the light.

“Um…”

Not waiting for an answer, the stranger swiftly slipped each ring off each finger, holding them oh so carefully. “Very nice. Very.” She inspected them for a moment, right before turning and tossing them in a garbage bin behind her.

With widened eyes he sputtered, lazily trying to claw for them a second too late. She swept right back into his personal space, forcing him to retreat back with distraction. “Hm. And what might that be?”

She pointed to his pocket.

To his wooden stake, a necessity for vampire hunters.

It couldn’t be-

“I- you, that’s-”

Before he could so much as react, she slipped it right from him with her impossibly quick and nimble hands. “A wooden stake? Silly, silly.” She tisked, ignoring his growing concern and tossing it to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, and with drowsy, draped eyes Marshall watched it crawl out of reach. “You won’t be needing that.”

Please, no-

“You! You- you’re-!” Voice rising with muddled heat, his brain’s realization was catching up with his mouth.

Oh, God-

“Relax. I’m just here to help you. Calm down, dear.”

“N-no… you’re-! Get off me!” He swiped at her outstretched hand, feebly slapping it away.

How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let a vampire so close? How? He’d been so distressed and out of it from that nights job he hadn’t even noticed. What a fool, what a fool, what a fool.

He recoiled, jumping right off the bench and running. With his brain already such a mangled mess he nearly fell over, only catching himself with one hand and pushing himself back up.

His steps were slow and drowsy, swaying arduously and dramatically on his weighted feet. Nonchalantly the stranger stood behind him, taking her sweet time to catch up.

“Go-! Go away! Go away!” he hollered, stumbling around in a growing daze toward his truck, slipping over nothing several times. Her follow persisted. “Go away!”

Her vampiric aura strengthened by the second, taking hold of his susceptible mind and pushing him back into a distant, fuzzy haze. His words were tumbling and quieting, his movements gradually decreasing.

“N- no… no… leave…! Go…”

Soon enough subtle fingers trailed swiftly down his spine, stopping him in place. “Shhh, shhh… relax, dear. Just allow your limbs to go all numb and sleepy.”

His shoulders buckled, jaw falling slack under the immense weight of hypnotic force. Even still, infected by disgusting pleasure, his stomach tensed with sour acid. “Nooo…”

She walked around him, meeting his gaze with sweet, mind melting eyes. “I know you must be scared, little one. My apologies for messing with you, I just couldn’t help it. I’ll be nice now, okay? So be a good boy and just sleep.”

Easy. She’d overpowered him, so easily. Five years of practice and he’d lost just like that. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. How could he not hate himself? How could he not detest the world for such a fate he never deserved? Five years of service and he was going to lose his life at the hands of a vampire?

He’d been so careful.

“Just calm, oh so calm. Your mind settles, all sleepy and exhausted. Just let go for now. I won’t hurt you.” She soothed, cupping his face in her palms.

“Nuh… no… go…”

He didn’t want to let go. He had to escape. He wanted to escape. He wanted…

He wanted…

“Let… go…”

She smiled, warmth spreading through his belly, a blissful, distracting sensation that scattered any coherent thoughts clawing to the edges of his mind. “Good, good. Let go, dear. Just for a bit. You’ll have a very nice nap, okay? It’s all dark out here, which means you must be very tired. And nighttime means you sleep, doesn’t it?”

Marshall yawned, head lolling and body melting. He’d like a nap. He’d been working so dreadfully hard, he deserved one, did he not? A nap would be just wonderful.

“Aw, how cute. You’re so drowsy. Just falling asleep right in my arms, huh? Lovely. An easy catch, weren’t you?” He hummed in agreement, her words flowing through one ear and out the other. He was swiftly floating into unconsciousness, head gradually falling forward into his chest. “Shh… so very relaxed, sleep just holding your putty like mind in it’s hands. Just let go to the call of sleep and exhaustion. I know you want to, dear.”

It was strange, how delightful it felt. He’d been enthralled before, but never so deeply and thoroughly. His brain never so overridden. Why had he ever fought it? Why had he ever rejected such heaven? Marshall couldn’t so much as think of an answer.

Or, think at all, really.

Placing the kind pressure of her hand on the back of his neck, she easily guided the exhausted Marshall’s slick with sweat forehead into the nape of her neck.

“Good boy, good boy. Just let all your worries go. I tried so hard to make this easy on you, I know how easily fussy you humans can get. But everything is fine and calm. Calm and sleepy. Sleepy and relaxed. The darkness of the night makes you oh so exhausted and ready for bed.”

He shivered from the sound of praise, as well as the vampire stroking down his arms and stirring more pleasant feel as he drifted, brain coming to a stop. It felt better than it ever had to fall asleep. He smiled, and so did she. Even in the middle of winter, he’d never felt so pleasantly warm.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She whispered sweetly, rocking him gently like a small child into an entranced sleep. “I’ll take great care of you, dear.”

———————————————————————

Next

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[whumpninja]

Ask Me About…Vampire Whump!

That’s right, the first ask game in this project is for you, Fang Gang! (I’ve accepted using that name for vampire whump creators.) Since vampire whump takes so many different forms, I’ve split the twenty questions in this ask game into different categories. So no matter what type you write, there’ll be questions that match your characters! Stick to one section, or mix them up- whatever fits your OCs best!

I’m accepting suggestions for next week’s ask game genre, and soon the “order form” for custom ask games will be up! Hope it isn’t a pain in the neck waiting a bit longer, but while you do, sink your fangs into these delicious questions!

Warning: these are whumpy questions, so they involve some dark content! Blood, death, et cetera.

Taglist: @sleepyiswhumping

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE WHUMPER

🦟- what’s your favorite blood type?

🍷- how does your thrall/bloodbag/juicebox’s blood taste?

⏳- what is it like being so powerful and/or immortal?

🩸- what do you think of humans?

🦇- do you have any remorse?

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE WHUMPEE

🫗- do you still get to drink blood?

🧛🏻‍♂️- what was your life like before this?

🕸️- are you a monster?

☀️- what’s the worst thing that’s been done to you?

🌙- what would you do first if you could escape?

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE HUNTER

🧄- what weakness do you exploit the most against vampires?

💀- how many vampires have you killed?

😈- what’s your motivation for being a hunter?

⚰️- what’s the best way to deal with a vampire, in your opinion?

🕷️- have you had any close calls?

QUESTIONS FOR A THRALL/BLOODBAG/JUICEBOX

🥀- are you happy?

🦷- do you like being fed from?

👠- is your owner/master cruel to you?

🗝️- if you were to try to escape, how would you do it?

🪦- do you think you’ll die here?

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Whumptober Day 2

No. 2 Nowhere to Run

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

CW: vampire whumpee, human whumper, hunter whumper, chase, gunshot wound, threats, vaguely implied self harm? let me know if I missed anything

Darting through the forest, the vampire leapt nimbly over logs and ducked beneath low-hanging branches. Despite their lack of a need to breathe, they seemed to be able to feel their lungs burning.

Behind them, they could hear the tell-tale sounds of hunters: pounding footfalls snapping branches and crunching leaves, yapping bloodhounds tugging their owners forward, even a trace of heartbeats and ragged breaths could be heard.

They were always so careful. They always made sure to cover their tracks, never leave a trace, never feed from a human without wiping their minds. They were constantly on the move, never settling in one place for too long.

Still, the hunters had found them.

The vampire spotted a rocky outcrop in their peripheral view, and quickly steered themself toward it, taking care to move silently as they did so.

Reaching it, they frowned. Leaning over the rough gray stone, the only thing that waited was a large steep cliff, with a raging river beneath it.

The vampire wanted to escape, yes, but they weren't about to kill themself to do so.

They spun around, their mind already spinning and planning ahead.

As soon as they started back towards the forest, though, they froze, red eyes widening nearly imperceptibly.

A hunter stood at the tree line, only a few yards away. No, not a hunter: the hunter.

They had a crossbow slung over one shoulder, several silver blades on their belt, and they held a perfectly sharpened stake loosely in one hand.

Making eye contact with the vampire, the hunter smiled, and stolen blood ran cold through the vampire’s veins. Flat teeth had never been so terrifying.

The hunter took a single step forward, but that was enough to send the vampire hurriedly back towards the ledge, head shaking slightly.

“Please,” they rasped hoarsely. How long had it been since they'd last spoken? Last used words at all? “Please, you don't have to do this.”

Letting out a low chuckle, the hunter continued forward at a leisurely pace. “Oh, I know,” they replied in a velvety voice. “I don't have to do anything. But oh do I want to.”

The vampire dared a glance over their shoulder, peering down at the watery doom below.

Was it worth it? Could they take a chance to not be taken?

However, it was too late for that; that one look had cost them dearly.

It gave the hunter the perfect opportunity to load their bow and fire a silver bullet into the vampire’s thigh.

With an inhuman screech of pain, the vampire crumpled to their knees, panting and clutching their leg.

The hunter moved closer, until they were standing right about the kneeling vampire, their stake now held firmly at their side.

Slowly raising their head, the vampire stared up at the hunter with wide, red eyes. “Fine,” they said softly, tongue unable to not dart out wet their dried and cracked lips. “If this is how it has to be… just make it quick.”

With that, the vampire let themself slouch, all their energy leaving them, their only hope that the hunter would stake them quickly and (relatively) painlessly.

Instead, a dark laugh resounded above them. “Make it quick?” the hunter mockingly repeated. “I don't think so, you disgusting piece of shit. Not after everything you've done.”

The vampire didn't bother replying. They knew there was nothing they could say or do that would convince the hunter of their innocence. Instead, they stayed there, curled over themself on the ground, a few lone tears snaking down their face.

“Look at me, goddamn you!” the hunter roared, grabbing hold of the vampire’s hair and ripping their head up.

Unable to stop a small whine of pain from passing through their lips, the vampire complied, staring wordlessly up at the hunter.

At the eye contact, a cold, cruel smile curved across the hunter’s face. “Well,” they drawled, lazily tracing the vampire’s jaw with their stake. “Looks like you have nowhere else to run, little vamp.”

---

Taglist: @badluck990 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-vagabond-nun

[serene-cinders]

A vampire trainer Whumper who is crazy good at their job. They’re a perfectionist. A neurotic megalomaniac with a 99.9% success rate. They’ve had an incredibly successful career, all things considered. So much so that they can enjoy a cushy leadership position, when their joints don’t work like they used to. But that missing percent still drives them crazy. The vampire who got away. The wily, wretched little parasite who’s so far inferior… rivalled the Whumper’s own cunning, all those years ago. So when the Whumper, up in their fort of bloody riches, hears about a shadowy bloodsucker picking off members of the clan, they mobilise all agents, and order them to be taken alive.

[whump-place]

"Leech, what are you doing there?"

Asks a very angry Whumper from the other side of the room. Whumper's fists hide behind their back holding a silver knive while looking at vampire Whumpee and the front door half open.

"I- I promise I can explain..."

[antibigotwhumpblog]

Crucifixion Pt.4

(Prev, Next, Masterlist)

Cw: Whump, Toxic Christianity, Mouth and Hand Gore

He left her to fight against the pain and went behind her to his table of objects. He wrapped back around, and in his arms, there was a Bible. Heleigh recognized it as a spell book immediately. She thanked her master and lifted her chin so much as the thorns would allow. Humans couldn't cast spells that would hurt an angel. He sprinkled the salt on the page and brushed it off. It formed a pillar at his feet. She'd done such a thing many times, although always directed at a demon as it was supposed to be. He then began to chant the Latin text. Heleigh was robbed of something. The more he spoke, the more apparent it become that she was missing something from her gut. Soon, it became impossible to breathe. The air became stark like a wall. She twitched aggressively as her mouth hung wide open. She was hollow. She was empty. He'd stolen the thing that kept her skin tight, and her heart beating. Truly, her heart stopped. She gazed into a white abyss as death overwhelmed her. He continued to talk, and more and more was stolen. It felt like her soul was pruned. She started to sob, but there was no sound and no tears. She started to convulse. Angels couldn't pass out, another reason they were better than humans. He kept going. She was completely limp, but she was raging. She felt herself strip away along with her consciousness as she dissolved into agony. She was held there for minutes. The places that had bled before were now dry. She was trapped inside the endless pain. She felt like she'd melted into a puddle, but was still completely intact. This was Hell's eternal torture. He stopped. The final part of her scream resonated around her cell as Earth took hold of her soul once more. Her body crashed like a heroine withdrawal but was forced to tense, and the pattern destroyed her muscles. She heaved giant gulps of air, but couldn't keep them down. The Lord in her heart, she had to stay strong, she thought as the unbearable cold irked into her spine. The human had hunched his shoulder like a vulture, and moped in his own mortal emotions as he watched her. Heleigh had never been absent of whatever he had stolen. As she panted in breaths, she realized it was as if her master had left her. God could not enter Hell. Suddenly, she wanted to wail toward the heavens. Without the presence of God within an angel, they died. Her master had saved her yet! Despite the sickly hollowness that just barely spared her life, she could do nothing but praise His holy name. He knew what she could handle, and protected her from what she could not, so she may be used for His greater good. Forever. This human would release her soon. She straightened her spine once more and swallowed the blood in her mouth. The human locked eyes with her, slammed the boot shut, and sauntered behind her again. He reappeared with a sword. A bead of his mortal sweat dotted the golden blade, and it evaporated. Heleigh took deep breaths and started to wiggle her tongue up and down. She whined from the pain but continued forward. Up and down she tore her tongue against the nail.

"This is the sword from the guardian of Eden," He explained, "It was stabbed through his stomach by a hunter far before my time. Now, his blood has further been used to torment others of his breed."

Her tongue ripped from its sheath. Her mouth lit with pain. A long line of blood spewed from her mouth. The man paused to stare appalled.

"Angel blood is holy," She whimpered.

The man gripped the handle of the sword and stuck the tip of it underneath her chin. Her skin sizzled as he tilted her neck upwards.

"Then the stone you kneel on shall be hallowed ground," He growled.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 59: Jenny's Rescue

Prev > Masterlist > Next

tw: character death, mind control, hypnotism, stabbing, adult woman called girl

October 1925

Jenny woke up.

It'd been happening less often these days. She spent most of her life in a half-remembered, hypnotized haze, but every so often her mind would shake itself just barely free. She wasn't sure what triggered it -- a memory, perhaps, triggered by a sound or a smell. It never lasted long before her master effortlessly put her under again.

That's where she was now, with Master Edgar, kneeling at attention beside his favorite armchair. The fact that he was keeping her close at hand probably meant that he intended to feed, but for now he was relaxing with a magazine and his favorite pipe. She stayed still, trying to maintain her posture, so that he wouldn't immediately realize that she was awake. The fireplace was warm with a cheerful crackle, the cushion below her knees was mercifully comfortable, and she was generally content with just remaining like this for some time.

Back when she was first put under her master's spell, whenever she woke up like this, she would try her best to find a way to escape. She'd never gotten far, and she'd earned harsh punishments each time. She touched the place on her hand where her smallest finger used to be, remembering why she had stopped trying. It was far better to enjoy a moment of relative peace and relaxation than incur her master's wrath for no gain.

She'd just about accepted that she was never getting out. She had wished to never see the lace factory again, and like a girl in a fairy tale, she'd had her wish granted in the most awful way. Even so, on quiet nights like this, it seemed bearable.

"Hm. Are you awake, girl?"

"Yes, master. Sorry, master," she sad demurely.

He sighed. "I suppose I ought to put you back to sleep, then, so I can feed later."

"Master --" She hated to ask, fearful of getting in trouble even though it was such a small request. "May I stay awake just a little longer? I'm enjoying the fire and your company, sir."

"…I suppose there's no harm in it, as long as you're silent and don't make any trouble," he said, to her surprise. "I'd like to finish up the article I was reading, anyway. You may stay up for a bit longer."

"Oh, thank you, sir," she said, straightening her posture to show her dedication to being obedient, even when not fully entranced.

Or was she? It was hard to tell the difference sometimes. Maybe her serene attitude was only because she was still very much entranced, despite feeling awake.

She sat in silence, basking in the warmth of the fire, and letting her mind wander. Her thoughts quickly latched on to the many things she missed: sunshine on her face, the scent of flowers blooming, cool summer rains, the bustle of shops, sweets at the county fair. How she regretted not appreciating those more when she had the chance! She hadn't left the manor since she arrived. If only her master would let her outside, even once…

She would appreciate the fire and the quiet of the study now, though. She feared there was a time when she would go to sleep and never again be awake enough to think such thoughts.

Master Edgar tossed his magazine onto the side table with a huff. "Rubbish," he said, and Jenny knew he was talking to himself, not to her. "I can't believe what passes for publishable these days."

Jenny didn't move a muscle as she heard the familiar sound of her master's pocket watch's chain, the soft tick-tock already beginning to make her drowsy. Master Edgar placed one hand on her head as the other dangled the watch in front of her face. It began to swing in slow rhythm, the weight of the watch bearing down on her mind, her eyelids already starting to droop. Her short reprieve was over.

"Focus, girl," he said, unnecessarily, because she already had all of her attention fixed on the watch. "Each swing will make you sleepier and more obedient. You know what it is you need to do."

"Sleep and obey," she murmured.

"That's it, girl, sleep and obey. Sleep and obey…"

She was so well trained that it took very little for her master to put her under. She knew from her hazy memories that once she was fast asleep, she would be made to open her eyes and conduct her master's household business with very little input from her mind, a dream of servitude.

That is, except on nights like this, when he chose her to feed from, when fangs in her neck would only drive her deeper into unconsciousness. She thought perhaps that she was his favorite, the one he chose more often than the rest, and this gave her some odd comfort. Falling into her master's arms during his feedings was the only tenderness she had in this place, and she would be permitted to spend the rest of the night in bed afterwards, so she welcomed it.

"What is that sound?" The watch was abruptly removed from her sight, and she blinked slowly, trying to adjust. Master Edgar looked deeply concerned in a way that was unusual. Had another vampire come to challenge him? Master had a number of enemies, for reasons she was not allowed to understand. "Wait here in the study, girl. Don't move from this spot."

But her master didn't have time to leave the study before the sounds grew louder, loud enough that Jenny could hear it with her ordinary human senses. The door to the study burst inward, revealing a most unusual sight.

The woman was small but looked athletic, her hair pulled back into a severe bun. She was wearing a practical man's suit with a sort of leather vest. Her thick belt had holsters for knives, wooden stakes, and other items Jenny couldn't identify, and she had a large leather satchel and an enormous silver cross on a chain around her neck. Most unusual was the crossbow and quiver strapped to her back.

A vampire? A human here to rescue her? She felt a pang of excitement followed by immediate guilt. She shouldn't wish for her master's death when he'd given her food and shelter and work for so long now -- and for all she knew, this wouldn't be a rescue at all, but an even crueler master.

Master Edgar thrust his pocket watch towards her like a weapon. "Focus," he said with enough force that Jenny was easily caught up in it too, staring at the swaying watch regardless of how much she wanted to observe the new visitor.

She glared. "Fiend, do you think you can --"

"Focus," he said, gesturing towards the watch. "You will focus. Focus now, little hunter. Focus, girl."

So she was a hunter! Jenny's heart clenched. She could just see the hunter behind the swinging watch that threatened to capture her full attention. To her disappointment, the hunter was already focusing, her eyes moving back and forth perfectly in time with the hypnotic watch.

"That's it, girl, that's it. Keep focusing. More and more hypnotized with every swing and sway. Feel my hypnotic power beginning to set in, no matter how hard you fight it."

"Nnnngh," the hunter groaned, trying to tear herself away.

"No, no, none of that, little hunter. You're too hypnotized to resist. You're going to start sleepwalking forward… closer… closer and deeper into my spell, little hunter. Deeper and deeper into hypnosis…"

She took one slow step forward, then another, clearly trying and failing to resist Master Edgar's commands. Jenny couldn't help but wish for her success, but she knew that none could defy her master for long, not when they were caught up in his mesmerism. It was already too late for this poor hunter, a dead woman walking. Jenny did hope that he wouldn't kill her right here and now.

"Your limbs are growing heavy, little hunter. Your eyelids are growing so heavy. You're tired, so tired. You want to rest," said Master Edgar with a wicked grin, as the hunter drew closer. "Don't be afraid. My pretty watch will help you sleep."

Jenny was fighting sleep herself, wanting to stay awake and see what would happen. The hunter was so close now, close enough that her master could reach out and pet the top of her head. She was so small -- how could a woman like this hope to stand up to a vampire like her master?

"Awww, poor little sleepy vampire hunter. You're being hypnotized by the scary vampire, aren't you?" he laughed, as her eyes began to fall shut for longer and longer. "You're just too hypnotized to resist. You will sleep, little hunter, and you will obey. Sleep… sleep…"

The hunter made a soft sound of protest, swaying gently in time with the watch, falling asleep on her feet.

"Go to sleep, girl… sleep… sleep…"

A fountain of blood was gushing down her master's chest.

Jenny was so dazed, and it had all happened so quickly, that it took her a few moments to comprehend. As her master crumpled to the floor, the hunter was standing before him with a bloody stake, her eyes perfectly awake and aware. Master Edgar began to crumble into dust, and Jenny was screaming.

"It's all right." The hunter put her stake down and pulled Jenny into her chest, and Jenny clung to her, not knowing what else to do. "Shhh, I won't hurt you. He won't hurt you any more. You're safe."

"You -- you killed --"

"Listen to me now. Are there any other vampires in the manor?"

"No, only Master Edgar."

"How many thralls does he keep?"

"Six, including myself, miss."

"Hm. That's far too many for me to support. I'll have to contact the guild," she said. "Are any of these thralls in immediate danger?"

Jenny could barely answer through her choked sobs -- what exactly she was crying about, she wasn't entirely certain. "No, miss, they're all -- they're asleep, under his spell, and doing the chores --"

"That's fine, then. I'll leave them be for now, and you can come along with me. Can you stand?"

"I -- I -- I --"

"Here, let me help you up. There you go. Can you sit here for a moment? I need to do something important before we leave and I send the guild in to clean up."

Jenny nodded as she was placed onto the same armchair where Master Edgar had been lounging a few moments before. She couldn't seem to quite comprehend that he was dead. Perhaps she had fallen asleep after all and this was all a dream.

The hunter picked the pocket watch off the floor and stuffed it in her satchel, along with several gold rings her master had been wearing. "I need light valuables to carry with me. Do you know where he would keep them?"

"His bedroom, miss," she said. Uncertain as she was about helping the hunter, it was easy for her to fall into a state of obedience.

"And where's his bedroom?"

Jenny directed her, and the hunter was off to ransack her master's belongings, as Jenny huddled in on herself for comfort. Her master was gone. What would happen to her now? Would she have to go back to her job in the lace factory, after all that had happened? Would they even accept her now? She felt so frail and weak compared to the woman she used to be, a life barely remembered. All she was good for was doing chores and providing blood.

…Would she get to see sunshine?

Was her master truly dead? How did this hunter defy him? Jenny had never seen anyone escape from his hypnotism.

"I'm back," the hunter announced. "That was very fruitful." She held her hand out to Jenny. "Come with me. My car is outside."

Jenny took her hand in a daze, stumbling past the dusting corpse that was once her master and out of the study. She couldn't seem to quiet the part of her insisting that this was all a trick, that she was to be punished, that she was going to be discarded and left destitute…

The cool night air hit her face, and for the first time in years, Jenny looked up at the moon. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Here, you can ride in the passenger's seat." The hunter was gently directing her into a waiting car as Jenny stared at everything around her like a woman possessed. The moon and stars, the streets and the gaslamps, the shops and houses -- it had been so, so long since she'd seen the outside. "It's going to be okay," said the hunter. "You're going to be safe now."

Jenny sat inside the car, trembling. After years of being asleep and obedient, her mind was now swirling with so many thoughts and worries that she felt she might burst. The hunter got into the driver's seat.

"It's going to be okay, I promise," she reassured again. "I know it's a lot to deal with right now, but you're going to be fine."

"Yes, miss," she said numbly.

"Oh, you don't need to call me miss -- I didn't introduce myself at all, did I? My name is Vivian, and I'm a vampire hunter and a witch."

"A witch?" Jenny really had fallen into a fairy tale.

"That's right," Vivian said with pride. "It's probably nothing like you're thinking, though. I can explain more later."

"How did you defy him?" said Jenny, unable to hold back the top question in her mind. "His hypnotism -- I couldn't resist him at all, not ever, and you just…"

"I can make myself immune to vampiric enthrallment for a short time. The method is a secret, though, I hope you understand," she said. "It's how I'm able to kill vampires that no other hunter can touch."

"Like my master…"

"Like your master." She started the car. "I hope you won't hold it against me for too long. You're free now."

"Free…"

She didn't feel free, not yet. But she had gotten to see the moon.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

I've been looking forward to introducing these characters.

Next week, Oliver finally gets to meet Alexander's mysterious friend.

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