Blood Vane
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
Views:
10,510
Reviews:
123
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
Views:
10,510
Reviews:
123
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
IT IS TO DREAM
Do demons dream? It could be argued that they do because right at the moment tucked in his bed
in the small quarters allowed the guards at Boot Hill, Peewee Bundy was having quite a dream. One that caused him to moan and writhe underneath the sheets that were already twisted around his skinny body.
A dream of falling forever into a black void, nothing below him and nothing above him nor on any side.
Free falling with absolutely no hope of ever stopping until he somehow managed to bust hell wide open upon landing and nothing for company except high pitched insane giggles that would chase him all the way to Hades and beyond.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He was sitting in a swing with his mother, her arm was around him and he was safe and warm. Six year old Thomas "Blood" Vane snuggled into the welcoming warmth and felt peace steal over him as his mom hummed and rocked them both on the swing. It was a beautiful day; the sunlight and the warmth were making him drowsy and he wished with all his childish might that he could somehow just stay like this forever, safe and loved and wrapped in her mothers arms. Helene Vane stroked her sons hair and smiled down at him, “You have to leave now Tommy.” She was the only one who had ever called him Tommy.
He snuggled closer, unwilling to relinquish his mothers quiet strength. “Please don’t make me go Mama.”
His mother sighed and kissed him softly on the forehead, “You have to Tommy..... Something’s coming.”
His dreamscape changed and he was no longer a child, but the tall sixteen year old of reality.
He stood in a clearing alone except for a huge white wolf with startling icy blue eyes that gazed up at him intently. He heard the wind whisper, “Blood.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He was on his knees in his parents bedroom, huddled between his fathers legs with a cock in his mouth.
Seth had come in to ask his dad for some money so he could buy a present to take to a friends birthday party but Malcolm Edwards had had other things in mind, so now he was sucking away until finally with a loud grunt from above the cock pulsed on his tongue and Seth swallowed like a good boy without even thinking about it.
His father had grinned down at him drunkenly then stood and fumbled in his pockets for a moment before pressing ten dollars into his sons small hand. “Buy em’ sumthin nice.” he slurred before ruffling Seth’s blond hair and staggering away.
Numbly he had stuffed the bill in his pants pocket and walked back to his own bedroom, heading straight to the half bath that was joined to it.
Seth closed the door, it was a tiny space, not much bigger than a small closet with only a sink and a toilet but it did at least have a door that allowed some privacy, no lock though, his father would never allow that. He took a deep breathe then without hesitation shoved two fingers deep into the back of his throat and felt his stomach heave.
The soup he had eaten earlier was soon floating in the toilet bowl along with the thin ribbons of his fathers semen on top. For some reason spunk always floated on top. Not satisfied he stuck his fingers back down his throat and hurled again, but his aim was off and he managed to get more puke on the bowl and the floor than in the toilet.
Shit! Well, he would just have to clean it up later.
Reaching under the sink he soon found the razor blade he kept hidden for such occasions and settled himself down in the small space between the sink and the toilet. He knew he was probably sitting in throw up but at the moment couldn’t be asked to care.
Pulling up a pants leg, he closed his eyes as he drew the blade across the soft inner flesh of his calf. Three more cuts later and the blood was running down his leg in steady rivulets. He switched to the other leg
and soon had a matching set with a satisfying drip, drip, drip as the red fluid hit the floor.
The door to his hiding place was jerked open with no warning and he froze, blade in hand to gape up into the face of his mother. “Seth, you….”
For a few moments she just stood there, mouth open as she stared down at the eleven year old boy crouched in front of her. Candy Edwards had never been much for words or much of a mother for that matter, but slowly a look of understanding had seemed to permeate her features and then she had turned and left her only son sitting in a pool of his own blood and puke without saying a word. All in all it had been one of the closest mother/son moments they would ever share.
In misery they had, if only for a moment, found common ground.
In his dream, Seth made a longer, much deeper cut and smiled.
in the small quarters allowed the guards at Boot Hill, Peewee Bundy was having quite a dream. One that caused him to moan and writhe underneath the sheets that were already twisted around his skinny body.
A dream of falling forever into a black void, nothing below him and nothing above him nor on any side.
Free falling with absolutely no hope of ever stopping until he somehow managed to bust hell wide open upon landing and nothing for company except high pitched insane giggles that would chase him all the way to Hades and beyond.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He was sitting in a swing with his mother, her arm was around him and he was safe and warm. Six year old Thomas "Blood" Vane snuggled into the welcoming warmth and felt peace steal over him as his mom hummed and rocked them both on the swing. It was a beautiful day; the sunlight and the warmth were making him drowsy and he wished with all his childish might that he could somehow just stay like this forever, safe and loved and wrapped in her mothers arms. Helene Vane stroked her sons hair and smiled down at him, “You have to leave now Tommy.” She was the only one who had ever called him Tommy.
He snuggled closer, unwilling to relinquish his mothers quiet strength. “Please don’t make me go Mama.”
His mother sighed and kissed him softly on the forehead, “You have to Tommy..... Something’s coming.”
His dreamscape changed and he was no longer a child, but the tall sixteen year old of reality.
He stood in a clearing alone except for a huge white wolf with startling icy blue eyes that gazed up at him intently. He heard the wind whisper, “Blood.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He was on his knees in his parents bedroom, huddled between his fathers legs with a cock in his mouth.
Seth had come in to ask his dad for some money so he could buy a present to take to a friends birthday party but Malcolm Edwards had had other things in mind, so now he was sucking away until finally with a loud grunt from above the cock pulsed on his tongue and Seth swallowed like a good boy without even thinking about it.
His father had grinned down at him drunkenly then stood and fumbled in his pockets for a moment before pressing ten dollars into his sons small hand. “Buy em’ sumthin nice.” he slurred before ruffling Seth’s blond hair and staggering away.
Numbly he had stuffed the bill in his pants pocket and walked back to his own bedroom, heading straight to the half bath that was joined to it.
Seth closed the door, it was a tiny space, not much bigger than a small closet with only a sink and a toilet but it did at least have a door that allowed some privacy, no lock though, his father would never allow that. He took a deep breathe then without hesitation shoved two fingers deep into the back of his throat and felt his stomach heave.
The soup he had eaten earlier was soon floating in the toilet bowl along with the thin ribbons of his fathers semen on top. For some reason spunk always floated on top. Not satisfied he stuck his fingers back down his throat and hurled again, but his aim was off and he managed to get more puke on the bowl and the floor than in the toilet.
Shit! Well, he would just have to clean it up later.
Reaching under the sink he soon found the razor blade he kept hidden for such occasions and settled himself down in the small space between the sink and the toilet. He knew he was probably sitting in throw up but at the moment couldn’t be asked to care.
Pulling up a pants leg, he closed his eyes as he drew the blade across the soft inner flesh of his calf. Three more cuts later and the blood was running down his leg in steady rivulets. He switched to the other leg
and soon had a matching set with a satisfying drip, drip, drip as the red fluid hit the floor.
The door to his hiding place was jerked open with no warning and he froze, blade in hand to gape up into the face of his mother. “Seth, you….”
For a few moments she just stood there, mouth open as she stared down at the eleven year old boy crouched in front of her. Candy Edwards had never been much for words or much of a mother for that matter, but slowly a look of understanding had seemed to permeate her features and then she had turned and left her only son sitting in a pool of his own blood and puke without saying a word. All in all it had been one of the closest mother/son moments they would ever share.
In misery they had, if only for a moment, found common ground.
In his dream, Seth made a longer, much deeper cut and smiled.