The following story is one hundred percent ficton. In no way does the author suggest, allude to or imply the sexual orientation of the real life cast and crew of the Harry Potter film series. JK Rowling had the wonderful creatitive gift to create the Harry Potter name and story. Talented actors and actresses and Warner Brothers Entertainment, Inc. have the wonderful creative magic to bring it to life on screen. The author created the story that follows, which is completely fiction. This story alludes to sexual relationships between characters of the same sex. Do not read this unless you are old enough to do so. This work is copywrited and may not be copied or distributed without the express written consent of the author.
The car screeched to a halt. A rather large man in the front seat got out and opened the rear door. The driver attended to the other rear door. The large man grabbed Starr by the arm and roughly pulled him out. The driver politely opened the door for Malin. The old man stood and walked around the rear of the car. He approached his son.
"Take him to the dungeon. Chain him up and give him fifteen lashes," he said to the large man.
"As you wish, sir," the man said. He jerked Starr's arm and pulled him toward the door.
"Father! Why are you doing this?" yelled Starr. "Father! Please!" Malin stood at the rear of the car and listened as his son's pleas slowly reduced in volume until they were nonexistent. He chuckled to himself and turned to the driver.
"Give him a hand and make sure the boy learns some respect," he sneered. The driver nodded and shortly disappeared through the same door.
"No son of mine will be a poof. And no son of mine fails. I blame his weakness on his mother," Malin said to himself as he spat on the ground. He smiled to himself as he remembered her screams. The old man made his way to the door and then down to the dungeon. He walked through a stone archway and into a dimly lit room. His son was chained to the wall and the large man was just getting out a long leather whip. Malin pulled up a chair and sat down. The large man, whip in hand, turned to Malin. Malin nodded for him to begin. The driver approached the youth and ripped the shirt off his back. The driver stood back and smiled. The large man released the coiled up whip. He snapped it a few times in preparation. As Malin watched, the man swung the whip across Starr's back. He screamed out in pain. The man prepared for another.
"Harder," directed Malin. The man smiled and swung the whip again. This time, the leather drew blood. It splattered across the room with one droplet landing on Malin's cheek. As he gently wiped it off, he smiled an evil smile. The whip slashed across Starr's back again and again until all fifteen lashes had been delivered. Malin reached for a bowl on the table. He grabbed a handful of salt from it and walked over to his son.
"You're a poof. You take it up the ass. No son of mine would ever do that!" Malin yelled into Starr's sobbing face. He took the salt and cupped it in both hands. Then he threw it into the gapping wounds on his son's back. Starr screamed out in agony. Malin pushed his hands against Starr's back and slammed him against the stone wall. He rubbed his salt encrusted hands up and down Starr's back reveling in the screams.
"Attacks of this nature are unheard of!' bellowed Governor Downing. "Who did it? Why did they do it? And most importantly, why are all the attackers dead ... and not just dead, but mutilated. That pompous ass Ceenta thinks he's so all high and mighty. I've got news for him. The other governors and I won't stand for it. He knows what happened and he's going to tell me!" The governor had worked himself into a frenzy and was red in the face. He glared at his five law enforcement officials. "Go to Mister Ceenta's home and find out what happened," he said sarcastically. "If humans are involved in this, we're in for a long drawn out debate with government officials and I don't want to even think about that. I've had it up to here with that bugger and his American boy toy." Several of the law enforcement officials shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Just because he say's he's inherited the responsibility doesn't put him above the law. I've always wondered if that story was just made up to give his poor excuse for a family a bit of stature. It's bullshit if you ask me. So go pay a little visit to Mister high and mighty. I hereby extend all the authority of the regional governors to each of you. You have the governors' permission and authorization to use whatever means and resources are necessary to find out what happened. If blood gets spilled in the process, then so be it!" The law enforcement officials nodded and left the room. As the door closed behind them, their conversation took on a new tone.
"Homophobic bastard!" said Derrick. "I can't believe he said that. He knows I'm with Paul!"
"Easy, mate," said Keith as he put his arm around Derrick. "The old bugger really whipped himself into a stitch. Just overlook him."
"You're right, Keith," chimed in Lee. "But we still have a job to do."
"But," protested Derrick, "I can't stand to hear him be so, so degrading."
"Look, mate. There's nothing we can do about his demeanor or his intake of donuts," said Ben. "All we can do now is just go and find out what happened. And, for the record, I happen to believe in Ceenta's inheritance."
"I do too," said Donnie. "Listen up, mates. The responsibility of overseeing the magical world was bestowed on Ceenta's family by Merlin himself. I don't know what you blokes think, but I believe in the story. Hell, we have to believe in something. Merlin's long gone for fuck's sake. Somebody has to make sure that our world and the human world are kept separate. I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't pleasure the thought of being pressed to death."
Ceenta and Don relaxed on lounge chairs on the veranda. They were enjoying the noon day sun and soaked it up while wearing very short shorts and nothing else. A mere twenty four hours before, the same veranda had been riddled with bullets. Sarduri had seen to it that there was no evidence left. It was the same veranda his masters had come to love and he enjoyed being able to provide a place of solitude for them.
The two men looked each other in the eyes. The love flowed between them like the flow of water over Niagara Falls. The sleep their bodies required to repair themselves was complete. The blood supplied by Daniel had saved their lives, but it also contained the hormones of a sixteen year old. Both men, at their prime age of twenty-five, found themselves in an uncontrollable lust. With the sun at its peak over the vast estate, Don's desire overpowered him. He suddenly got up from the lounge chair and stood before Ceenta. He stood tall and proud. His skimpy shorts hid nothing of his throbbing sexual desire. Ceenta gazed up at him.
"I want you," Don said quietly, but firmly.
"And I want you," Ceenta answered as he lowered his shorts to reveal his engorged manhood. Don straddled the lounge chair and lowered himself. As his lips wrapped around what he most desired, five men suddenly appeared on the veranda.
"The last thing I remembered was this really ugly man with a scar on his face pointing his wand at me and saying something about the boy who lived. After that, I can't remember anything until I woke up," explained Daniel. "At first I tried to open my eyes, but the light was way too intense. Then I tried to move, but I was hit with a pain I have never experienced before. It was, well, I can't describe it. I remember calling out to you, Tom. I wanted you so bad." Tom squeezed Daniel's hand.
"I heard you. You said 'Tom! Where are you? Help me, Tom! I'm scared. I'm so scared.' I was sitting here on the couch. We had just heard about Nickoli Pertrosika from Will's father. He's a KGB assassin and he's the one that supposedly took you. I was thinking the worst and Will wrapped me in his arms and told he that you would be ok. That's when I heard your voice in my head."
"I was scared to death, Tom. I had no idea where I was. I couldn't open my eyes and I couldn't move. I called out to you and then I passed out." Tom's arm had been around Daniel's shoulder from the beginning. Tom tightened his grip on Daniel and pulled his young lover closer.
"It's ok now. You're here. You're ok. Just take your time." Daniel smiled and relaxed into the hug. Will watched the interaction between the two boys and grew envious of his friend's close relationship.
"The next time I woke up, I panicked. Someone was coming. And suddenly, I found myself on the ceiling looking down on the room."
"W-what?!?" stammered Tom.
"I was on the ceiling!"
"Are you sure this wasn't a dream?" asked Will as he scooted to the edge of his seat.
"It was no dream. It was very real and very scary." Daniel paused a moment recalling the memory in his mind.
"What happened next?" asked Tom.
"Baby, I want you to take a deep breath. Try to relax and have an open mind. What I'm about to tell you is about as unbelievable as pigs flying, but, trust me, it's the truth." Tom took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Ok, Daniel. I'm ready. I love you, baby. Tell me what happened." Daniel collected himself, sighed deeply and plunged "I lost a lot of blood when that bugger blew up the shower. I had cuts all over my body. Some of those cuts were very severe. In fact, I lost so much blood that I was on the verge of death. There was a man there that saved me." Daniel took another deep breath. "He gave me the blood necessary to save my life, but at the same time, he ended my natural life."
"I don't understand, Daniel," said Tom. "What do you mean he ended your natural life?"
"He bit me, Tom. He sunk his fangs into my neck and gave me the blood I needed but at the same time, he, he, ah, he, turned me into, into a, a vampire." Daniel looked down at his lap and waited. It seemed to be hours, but in reality was only seconds before Will spoke up.
"So, what you're saying is," started Will. "You lost a lot of blood and a vampire bit you and gave you enough blood to save your life but at the same time he turned you into a vampire." Daniel nodded slowly.
The entire weight of Starr's body hung by the wrist shackles that held him securely in place. The metal was slowly cutting into his skin, but it went unnoticed. The angry slashes across his back were no longer bleeding, but the skin with raw and swollen. That too went unnoticed. A rat scurried across the floor and disappeared into a crack at the base of the wall. The single torch flickered in its mount casting strange shadows around the dank and musty room. This too went unnoticed. Starr's head hung low. Its smooth, creamy skin stained from recent tears. The usually soft black hair hung down in strings held together by dried sweat and blood. The tattered remains of his shirt draped either side of his tortured torso. All of this went unnoticed because Starr was unconscious. He was in the only place that could provide him an escape from the horrific acts of his father.
The heavy wooden door creaked loudly as it swung open and smashed against the wall. Starr's brief respite had come to and end. He struggled to regain his footing and relieve the intense burning around his wrists. The sound of solitary footsteps approaching set off alarm bells in his head. The voice that accompanied the footsteps sent a chill down his spine.
"No son of mine fails. No son of mine sucks dick. Therefore, you must be no son of mine." Malin spat the words at Starr with the venom of a cobra. "You make me sick." Malin grabbed Starr's shoulder and spun the boy around. "You hear me?!?!" Malin screamed. Spittle landed on Starr's face while the old man glared at him. The father released his son and turned as if it leave. He suddenly whirled around and pointed his wand.
"Adflictatio!" The pain of the curse streaked through Starr's body like a bolt of lightening. It's not a surface pain, but an all encompassing pain the radiates out from the very center of every molecule of the body. The intensity is indescribable. Men have died from being under the curse for mere seconds. Malin sneered at the twitching body of his son. As he released the curse, Starr once again full thankfully into unconsciousness.
"You're not my son," Malin muttered. "But you do provide some nice entertainment." He spat on the floor then turned and left.
The five men stood and could only stare at the scene before them. Some looked away, embarrassed. Some looked on intently. Finally, Derrick spoke up.
"Ah, excuse the interruption. We're the enforcement team from the regional governor's office." Don slowly lifted off Ceenta. Derrick gasped at the size of Ceenta's most intimate parts. Don moved back from the lunge chair and stood to face the men. They took in his nakedness and his hardness. Don's expression was anything but kind. "I'm really sorry to have interrupted." The words barely left Derrick's lips when two giant Samari warriors appeared at the door. They immediately placed themselves between their masters and the enforcement men with swords drawn. Sarduri was right behind them with robes for his masters.
"I must assume there is some importance to this intrusion since you've come unannounced," said Ceenta with a growing rage in his voice.
"I-I'm so sorry for the, ah, interruption," Derrick started. "Governor Downing told us to come here directly. I'm afraid we made the assumption that you knew we were coming. I, ah, we are deeply sorry to invade on your privacy."
"Downing? That pompous fat arse bastard. I should have known." Ceenta tied the knot on his robe and put his arm around Don. "What does the poorest excuse for a governor want this time?"
"Ah, it's about the attack, sir," said Donnie.
"Who are you?" Ceenta said glaring into Donnie's eyes.
"I'm Donnie, sir. This is Derrick, Keith, Ben and Aaron. I assure you, sir, we meant no harm and we humbly respect the importance of your inheritance." Ceenta relaxed his angry stance a bit. "We were sent to find out all we can about the recent attack on your home." Donnie suddenly blushed, stammered a bit, but then continued. "The governors are afraid humans were somehow involved." Ceenta glanced at the source of Donnie's blush only to see Don leaning against the stone wall with his robe wide open exposing his throbbing hardness.
"Don! Cover yourself. You're getting these men all hot and bothered." Don smiled and very slowly moved the edge of his robe to cover himself.
"Sorry, Ceenta, but we have to ask about the attack," said Keith. Sarduri suddenly appeared at the doorway and summoned Ceenta.
"Excuse me," he said and turned to Sarduri. "What is it?"
"Master, I just heard from my brother. Starr is missing. From the looks of the flat, it seems he was taken forcefully." Ceenta took a deep breath and nodded his head. Then he turned back to the men.
"I am sorry gentlemen but this conversation will have to take place later. I've just received some very disturbing news that requires my immediate attention." Ceenta turned to Don and told him telepathically about Starr. Don immediately tensed and moved over next to his lover.
"I'm very sorry, sir, but we must insist on any information you have," said Ben. Ceenta glared at the youth.
"Tell the slimy slithering fat arsed governor that we will be in touch. Now, you may leave the way you came or I can assist you."
"But ..." Ben stopped in mid sentence and smiled slightly. "You know we'll be put on troll assignment for coming back without any answers."
"Tell the good governor that I will come to see him personally after I attend to this pressing matter. That should keep you in his good graces. If not, give him this." Ceenta snapped his fingers and a box of Krispy Kreme Donuts appeared on the veranda floor in front of the law enforcement officials.
Note from the author: Tom didn't take the news of Daniel being a vampire very well. What's going to happen between those two? And, now we know just how evil Malin can be. Perhaps evil is too kind of a word. At least Don and Ceenta know. I'm reasonably sure they will come to the rescue, but will they get there in time? How much torture and agony can one person stand? The next chapter, titled "And the Plot Thickens" will be out shortly. Same Bat time and same Bat Channel.
Feedback is something authors live for and I am no different, so let me know what you think of the story. Once again, I acknowledge and thank my editors, Davin and Cody, who occasionally get some help from Rio. Get well! The flu sucks!
I invite you to visit my website at www.tarheelwriter.com for more stories.