SOULBOUND ‡ waif
By Wes Leigh
This is a work of fiction (or is it?) intended solely
for the entertainment of my readers. It includes references to historical
people and places, in particular, the London borough of Whitechapel and its
streets. I also wish to make a special acknowledgement of Bram Stoker's
ground-breaking novel Dracula, which spawned a new genre of literature, the
Gothic horror tale, and led to countless movies and novels that inspired and
horrified generations of fans. This story includes several (not so subtle)
references to Mr. Stoker and his novel, by which I intend no disrespect, but
rather acknowledge his inspiration of my foray into the realm of vampires.
This story is the property of the author and is
protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent.
If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty
archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/. Readers who
would like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
No man knows till
he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into
the woman he loves.
-- From Dracula
by Bram Stoker
The pale woman
smiled and lifted a finger to caress Reggie's cheek. Her nail scratched him
slightly as she dragged it across his skin, down the line of his jaw, and
underneath to his neck, pausing at the artery throbbing in his throat. She
licked her lips and sighed, turning her head slightly to get a better look at
the pulsing vessel filled with his life blood. Removing her eyeshades, her eyes
seemed to glow and turn red.
Reggie didn't have
time to panic. His mind went dark, and he remembered nothing else.
͠ ͠ ͠
Reggie groaned and
rolled onto his side. His eyes fluttered and blinked as he tried to focus on
his surroundings. He was lying on the ground, staring at a naked leg next to a
bush. The naked leg was hairy, probably belonging to another guy. He lifted his
head, noticing for the first time that he had a horrible headache, and saw that
the naked leg led to a hairy, nude butt. Groaning again, Reggie tried to sit
up, which wasn't easy to do with his head spinning like it was. He wiped his
eyes with one hand and looked around him. Unclothed lads were sprawled out in
the grass all around. Worthies. The same ones who'd tried to beat him up
earlier in the day.
Reggie shook his
head to clear away the confusion. Why the fuck were they all nude and covered
in cum? He looked down at his own body and saw he was also bare. His cock was
soft and his belly sticky. He touched the slimy mess on his stomach and felt
certain it was his own cum, though he couldn't recall any of the events causing
him to spew all over himself. Judging by how much cum he found, it must have
been a hell of a good time.
He looked around
him on the grass and saw his clothes scattered here and there. Rolling onto his
hands and knees, he scurried around, gathering up his garments.
Moans from the
other lads alerted him to the fact that they were beginning to wake up too. He
shoved his feet into his pants, not bothering with underpants, and grabbed his
shoes. Hopping from foot to foot, he managed to get his shoes on and his arms
into the sleeves of his shirt.
The Worthies were
struggling to sit up now. Flanders, their leader, was looking around him with a
bewildered expression. He saw Reggie a few feet away, struggling to get
dressed. "What the ...?" Flanders muttered, then seemed to notice his own
nakedness for the first time. "What the bloody fucking hell is going on?" Flanders
mumbled, glaring at Reggie.
Reggie managed to
stumble toward the exit to the garden, with Flanders screaming after him,
"We're gonna fucking kill you, you bloody fag!"
͠ ͠ ͠
Sneaking into a
public lavatory, Reggie was able to run a bit of fetid water into a basin and
wash most of the cum off his belly and cock. He had to hurry. People kept
wandering in while he was trying to bathe, staring at him suspiciously. And
there was no explanation he could offer for the mess he found himself in.
Over and over, he
asked himself what had happened. He remembered walking into the garden, at the
beckoning of the pale lady. He remembered moving along the path into the middle
of the garden, where he saw the Worthies, naked and scattered about on the
grass. He remembered the pale lady approaching him, touching his face with a
fingertip, and smiling with ... delight? ... pleasure? ... satisfaction?
Then nothing more. Darkness.
Strange dreams. Dreams of his body convulsing over and over with intense
pleasure, of his cock spewing endless streams of cum, of his back arching in
the grip of the most powerful orgasms he'd ever had. And throughout the dreams,
he sensed the pale lady hovering next to him, her breath caressing his neck,
her lips touching him, her teeth sliding along his throat.
No.
That wasn't quite
right.
Not her teeth.
Her fangs.
Fangs? He
shuddered. Surely he wasn't remembering it correctly,
yet his subconscious mind continued to insist that the pale lady's fangs were
extended toward his neck the entire time, almost penetrating the skin, but
never biting down and piercing into his neck.
He scrubbed the
last of the dried cum from the small patch of pubic hair above his cock. He
didn't know what the hell had happened that afternoon, but he did know one
thing for certain. He wanted it to happen again.
͠ ͠ ͠
"Where've you been,
Reggie?" Zavy asked, looking up when a disheveled Reggie stumbled over and collapsed
next to them in the grass.
Reggie shook his
head. "Don't wanna talk about it, cousin."
Zavy frowned. That wasn't
like Reggie at all. Whenever he got into an adventure of some kind, the first
one he told about it was Zavy, usually with Jack
eagerly listening in. The three of them kept no secrets from each other. How
could they? Sleeping together every night, working together during the day,
brawling with Worthies ... they were inseparable, so it was completely out of
character for Reggie to withdraw from his two closest friends like this.
Jack sat up and
stared. "Why are you holding your underpants instead of wearing them?"
Reggie blushed and
shoved his undergarments inside his shirt. "I said I don't wanna
talk about it."
Zavy sniffed,
leaning toward Reggie. The smell of cum was all over the lad, making Zavy grin
and nod at Jack. Jack sniffed too, chuckling, but saying nothing.
"It's getting late,"
Zavy said, glancing at the sun in the sky. "We'd best be heading home." He
stood up and offered a hand to Jack, who took it and allowed Zavy to pull him
to his feet. Zavy offered his other hand to Reggie. Reggie frowned, but took Zavy's hand. Zavy pulled Reggie up and into a quick hug
before his cousin could stop him. Zavy whispered in Reggie's ear, "Love ya', cousin. Whatever's going on."
Reggie pulled back
and studied Zavy, then grinned awkwardly and nodded his head. "Love ya' too, cousin."
They walked down
the street, side by side, with Zavy's arms draped
across the shoulders of the other two. Three best friends, inseparable forever.
͠ ͠ ͠
As they walked past
the families sitting in the hall outside their apartment, they found the same
woman holding her two little girls. She nodded gratefully at the three of them.
"Mighty grateful I am for what the three of ya' did
yesterday," she said as they passed.
Zavy stopped,
pausing to think, then nodded his head and reached into a pocket, pulling out
his last pence. He handed it to the woman.
Her hand shook as
she took the coin. "Bless ya', me boy," she said. "Bless
ya'."
She handed to the
coin to one of her daughters and asked her to run to the market for a loaf of
bread and some milk. The girl scurried away, leaving the mom rocking the other
little girl, who was coughing now, a frightening, raspy cough.
The door to their
apartment opened. Mum peered out and saw her boys talking to Anne Jacobs, the
poor mother who was using the hall outside their apartment as her `home'. Mum
wished she could do more for Anne, but they were barely getting by themselves.
Mum motioned the
boys into the apartment. "Pork pies on the counter, me lads. Getting cold
waiting on the lot of ya'."
The boys scurried
past Mum, hungry and grateful she'd managed to save a little supper for them. Mum
waited until they slid by her, then reached down and picked up a blanket she'd
left by the door. Glancing around to be sure Crawley was still in the bedroom,
she carried the blanket out into the hall and handed it to Anne Jacobs, who
looked up with grateful eyes and a sad smile. Mum nodded and headed back inside
the apartment, closing the door behind her, shutting out the misery of those
less fortunate than herself.
͠ ͠ ͠
The next day, after
working several hours in McCoy's stable, the three boys cut through an alley
off Osborne Street, confident they were far enough from Wentworth to be safe.
"So
you won't tell us where you were?" Jack asked.
"Or what you were
up to?" Zavy added with a smile.
Reggie shook his
head. "Right on both counts, lads. Not telling. My affair, not yours."
Zavy gave Reggie a
gentle shove. "Maybe next time you come back from one of your affairs, you'll
remember to put your underpants on first," he teased.
"And wash up
better," Jack added, pinching his nose.
Reggie began to
smile. "You're both jealous `cause
I had a sexy time without you."
"Nah," Zavy said,
grinning. "We ain't jealous. We're just dying to know what you got yourself up
to."
"And who you got it
up into!" Jack said, laughing.
"I can't really
say," Reggie said, wanting to tell his friends the truth, but afraid to say
more. In a way, he was telling the truth. He really couldn't say
any more than that, because he couldn't remember anything else about that
afternoon.
A body slammed into
Reggie, knocking him to the ground. Turning over, he saw the angry face of Flanders
staring down at him.
Zavy and Jack were
grabbed from behind, each one held securely by two of the larger Worthie boys. Several
others trotted over, fists balled up.
Flanders leaned
down and grabbed Reggie's shirt in the front, lifting him off the ground as Flanders'
arm drew back and his fist crashed down.
͠ ͠ ͠
All three lads
groaned in agony.
Reggie's face was a
bloody mess, and he felt certain his nose was broken. He was missing several
teeth, and his lips were cut and swollen. It hurt to breathe, making him wonder
if he had a broken rib or two.
Zavy hadn't fared
much better. His nose was bleeding and he was sure he'd have two black eyes in
the morning. He sucked in air, desperately trying to keep from throwing up.
Jack was the worst
off of the three. He held his arm against his stomach, eyes squeezed shut in
pain. The Worthies had twisted his arm so far behind his back that something
had snapped, and now he couldn't move it without experiencing blinding pain.
"Fuck me lads,"
Reggie groaned, "we've been batty-fanged, that's for damned sure."
Zavy struggled to
his feet, checking on Reggie first. Though his face was covered in blood, the
bleeding had stopped for the most part.
Reggie looked up at
his cousin and shook his head miserably. "You copped a mouse or two, Zavy,
that's for certain." Zavy's eyes were already puffy
and swollen, and would no doubt be purple soon.
Zavy nodded,
touching his cheekbone gingerly. "Ya. No doubt. They'll
be a mess in the morning." Turning to Jack, he saw the smaller boy biting his
lip to keep from crying out. "Jacko? Chuckaboo, how
are you, lad?"
Jack opened his
eyes wide in pain. "Me arms twisted right bad, Zavy. I
can't move it."
Zavy and Reggie
knelt beside Jack, helping him to his feet as carefully as possible. Jack
groaned and stumbled. "And me ankle is swelling up too."
With Zavy on one
side and Reggie on the other, they supported Jack as best they could, all three
stumbling down to the nearest public bathhouse to wash off the blood and lick
their wounds.
͠ ͠ ͠
Jack was able to
walk on his ankle with a bit of support on that side, but his shoulder was
badly sprained. Reggie's wounds were superficial, except for his ribs. Zavy had
only minor cuts and bruises, though his eyes were almost swollen shut by the
time they reached their apartment. Climbing the stairs, they all noticed that
Anne Jacobs and her two little girls were missing.
The door to their
apartment opened and Mum stepped out, her eyes red, her cheeks tear stained. She
stared at the three teens and exclaimed, "Dear God in Heaven, what happened to
you three?"
"We were jumped by
Worthies, Mum," Reggie explained.
Mum shook her head.
"Today, of all days, why'd you boys have to get in a brawl?"
"Wasn't much of a
brawl," Jack said with a grimace. "Like Reggie said, they jumped us. We didn't
stand a chance."
Zavy, alarmed by
what Mum had said, asked, "What did ya' mean by that,
Mum? Today, of all days?"
She shook her head
slowly and sighed, "Anne Jacobs' little girl ..."
Zavy pointed at the
empty spot in the hallway.
Mum nodded her head
sadly. "She didn't make it. Anne is coughing now too, so Crawley made her leave
with her other little girl. Don't know where they went. Don't know what'll
happen to them. Come on in, boys. I saved a bit of supper for you."
The boys hobbled
into the apartment, sitting down to eat a bit of cold meat and bread, which
wasn't easy to do with sore lips and missing teeth. The other children stared
at them, too frightened to ask any questions.
Mum watched the
three eat, then wet a cloth and cleaned up a few bloody spots they'd missed
earlier. "I wish you lot would stay away from those Worthies."
Reggie gasped as
Mum touched a sore spot on his jaw. "We'd love nothing better, Mum. Believe me,
we're trying to steer clear of those shits."
"Language, Reggie,"
Mum admonished.
"Sorry, Mum,"
Reggie mumbled.
"We really are
avoiding them every chance we get," Zavy added. "For some reason, they had it
out for us today." Zavy glanced at Reggie, who looked away, refusing to meet Zavy's eyes.
Reggie had a good
guess as to why the Wentworth lads wanted to beat them up, going on what Flanders
had said in the pale lady's garden, but that still didn't make it Reggie's
fault. Flanders was crazy and didn't need an excuse for beating up Hanbury
Street lads.
Mum finished
cleaning Reggie's cut lip and stood up, shaking her head in dismay. "Nothing more
I can do now. Time will heal or not." She looked at Jack, concerned. His arm
was still causing him tremendous pain. Mum searched through a cabinet and
pulled out a long strip of cloth. Wrapping it securely around his arm and
chest, it kept his wounded limb snug against his body. "Try not to move it,"
she said, gently touching Jack's nose.
He nodded. "It
hurts when I do, Mum. Believe me, I'm keeping as still as I can."
Mum turned to Zavy.
"I could use a song, right now, Zavy, me love. My heart is heavy and aching.
For living here in Whitechapel, where me boys can't walk the streets without
getting mangled. Where sweet, innocent children die in the night, leaving mothers
with broken hearts. Where hours are hard and tears too common."
Zavy understood his
mum's mood and knew what she needed. He shuffled to the sleeping pallet and
reached underneath for his wooden piccolo. Sitting down, he lifted the
instrument to his bruised lips and blew. Though soft and sweet, the tune was mournful,
like tears silently shed in the dark of night, a song of hearts burdened by a
hateful world where unseen forces and angry men struck unexpectedly and without
mercy. The song ended in a dying trill, hope lost, asking when comfort would
ever be found.
͠ ͠ ͠
Jack fell asleep
with Zavy holding him from behind, their bodies nestled together. They were
both so sore that they hadn't felt like doing anything more than cuddling as
they fell asleep.
Reggie lay on his
back, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were dark as he dreamed of revenge. Flanders
and those fucking Worthies would pay for this. He and his brothers had done
nothing to deserve getting beaten so badly, and Flanders was probably behind it
all. It wasn't Reggie's fault that Flanders had seen him in the pale lady's
garden and assumed Reggie was somehow responsible for the state they'd found
themselves in. Reggie didn't know whose fault it was, but he knew it wasn't his
doing or Zavy's or Jack's.
He thought again
about the pale lady and the touch of her fingertip on his jaw. Though it was
all still vague, he thought he remembered one more thing about her touch. His
skin seemed to tingle where her finger slid down his jaw, like stepping outside
on a cold winter day and feeling a blast of wind whip around a building and
strike you in the face.
And as her finger
pulled away, the chill was replaced by a fierce heat as his body responded to
her touch.
His cock began to
swell at the memory, as if it remembered what happened next, though his mind
couldn't. He turned his head and saw Zavy breathing deeply, asleep with Jack in
his arms. Sitting up slowly, Reggie tried to convince himself that what he was
now planning to do was foolish and dangerous, but his throbbing cock overruled
his brain. He stood up and gathered his pants, shirt, and shoes. Then, ever so
carefully, he stepped over Zavy and Jack and headed for the door. Stopping at
the door, he slipped into his clothing and shoes. Then he unlatched the door
and crept into the hall.
The end of SOULBOUND ‡
WAIF, Chapter Four