#whumpsday

It happens so fast that for a moment Keegan doesn't even register what is going on. The world is a disorienting blur around her. Then, she recognizes the speed, and the strength of the arms that have grabbed her.

Fuck. Now of all times?

She lets out a shout of surprise and rage and kicks wildly against the monster's hold on her. This fucker chose the wrong human.

The human's kicks are weak, as expected. Kane is definitely glad he took the car, though: dealing with this the whole way back would be incredibly annoying.

"Stop fussing," he snaps as he tosses her into his backseat, quickly grabbing the rope he brought with him.

Keegan whirls around instantly when she hits the seat and aims a kick to his face. 

"Fucking leech!" She snarls.

She won't win a wrestling match with a vampire, not even close, but anything to make him flinch will give her the chance to grab her weapon. A small stake, hidden away in her boots. She may be off duty, but no way in hell does she ever leave the house without one. For this reason exactly.

Kane isn't really hurt, but he is stunned for a moment, long enough for the human to get out the stake she was apparently hiding.

"Shit," he hisses under his breath. He grabs her wrist as fast as he can, holding it tight. "Drop it," he orders.

Keegan is surprised that no persuasion follows the order. It's a blessing that she's been able to fight back at all so far. She doesn't have time to wonder why. She yanks her arm with a growl, but the vampire has an iron grip on her wrist. He grabbed her before she could even attempt a strike. Still, she does not drop the stake.

Kane snatches the stake with his other hand and tosses it from the car, then holds her down with a knee to the abdomen so he can use his hands to tie her up.

"Stop struggling!" he orders, frustrated. It's supposed to be easier than this.

Keegan watches helplessly as the vampire tosses away her only weapon. 

"Fuck you!" She spits, fighting with all her might against the knee on her stomach. 

Her struggles are practically useless. She sees him reach for a coil of rope and her stomach sinks as she begins to realize how fucked she is. She's trapped and alone with no backup. Where are her fellow hunters??

Any moment now this thing is going to get sick of tussling and hypnotize her. She freezes, staring into the vampires angry, red eyes. She's not going to win this fight. Her only hope now is to stall him until someone takes notice. So, she grits her teeth, swallows her pride, and shouts for help.

"HELP! VAMPIRE! HELP ME!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Kane drops the rope and grabs the duct tape instead, hastily plastering some over the human's mouth. He then gets set, tying her up for the car ride home, looking around frantically as he does so, even though he feels a little pathetic for it. They're just humans.

When he has the human all tied up, he slams the door and gets in the front seat, beginning the drive home.

The vampire silences her with the tape and Keegan screams in rage, which morphs into fear as she's restrained and the door shuts on her. She kicks at the door but can't get a good angle the way she's been tied. She feels the engine rev to life under her and the car starts to move. Her heart beats a mile a minute and she swirls her head around hoping to find something, anything that can help her. But there's nothing.

It all happened so fast that it didn't matter if people were nearby. No one came in time. She's restrained and she's lost her stake. There's nothing she can do. She's being taken. Frustrated, fearful tears well up in her eyes. She stares at the back of the Vampire's head as he drives. Where is he taking her? The blood farms? Why didn't he hypnotize her? Does he want her lucid?

……Is he going to drain her like the one who took her mother?

---

Kane’s irritation fades into giddiness as he drives away. He's done it, he's caught a human of his very own!

It's about an hour's drive back home. He plays classical piano on the car radio, a wonderful invention.

He parks in his driveway, opening the car door to retrieve his prize. "No more struggling," he orders, hefting the human up and taking her inside.

Keegan's panicked thoughts turn to Lohitha as she's stolen away from home. Who knows what's in store for her, but her sister? She'll be all alone. She's only 12… Too young to fend for herself. God, what if she goes back to their dad? anything would be better than that. She prays that her friends will help her out. Her hunting partner always liked Lohitha, maybe she'll take her in?

Her worries are interrupted when the Vampire stops the car and returns to grab her. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead the moment the door opened. She glares daggers into him but remains still as ordered. She's not getting anywhere tied up like this. Her best bet is to save her strength. Still, she can't stop shaking.

‘Perfect,’ Kane thinks. She was probably just lashing out because it was so sudden, and now that she's had some time to calm down, she'll behave.

Kane carries her into the house and immediately into the human quarters, setting her down on the bed. “I am Kane de Sang, seventh-born of Aldrich de Sang. From this day forth, you will serve as my source of human blood.” He rips the duct tape off. “I presume you have questions.”

Keegan is relieved at least, to arrive at a house. Being a personal bloodbag is probably the better option… Of a terrible selection of outcomes. She immediately takes note of the path from the front door as she's taken deeper into the building.

The vampire's name is apparently Kane. Good for him. She'd much rather call him Dickhead.

Keegan has many questions. The smart thing to do would be to lay low; feel out her situation and start planning an escape accordingly.

Instead, she spits in his face the moment the tape is removed.

"Ugh!" Kane wipes his eye, immediately pissed, and grabs her tightly by the chin. "You little shit! You are going to learn some respect, or you will regret it," he warns. "Do you understand me?"

Oh, Keegan does not Like him touching her face. He could snap her neck easily with just a flick of his wrist. Her only solace is that he'd probably have done that already if that was his plan. If she's to be his food source, then he'll want to keep her alive. She glowers at him. 

"You kidnapped the wrong person if you're looking for respect." She growls. "Why haven't you hypnotized me?"

Kane barely restrains himself from violence. It's her first day. He's better than her juvenile retorts.

“I do not require such rudimentary tricks in order to keep one measly human in line," he huffs instead, not looking her in the eye. "You will behave, human."

He lets go of her, pointing to the two other doors as he speaks. "Kitchen, bathroom. There's a notepad in the kitchen where you can write down anything you need. Your sustenance is my sustenance." He starts to untie her. "I will come in here to feed from you once per night."

Keegan picks up on the defensiveness immediately. She decides that she's probably pushed her luck enough for now and doesn't comment, instead filing the information away for later.

She remains still as Kane unties her. Bolting for the door immediately will get her nowhere. "That's all?" She asks, unable to hide her nervousness. "Just the feeding?" 

She's dealt with plenty of vampires before and has her fair share of scars. She can handle a little bite. As long as this vampire isn't some kind of sadist, she'll be fine.

"Yes. That is your purpose," Kane confirms matter-of-factly. "You will provide me with blood, and you will behave while doing so. No more spitting. I won't hesitate to discipline you if I have to."

discipline. Like a misbehaving child. Keegan scowls at the phrasing.

Kane gathers the rope. "Do you have any actual questions?"

"No. You eat and I waste away in a windowless room for the rest of my life. Seems self-explanatory." Keegan says sarcastically. Doesn't matter, she won't be here for long.

"Very well. I'll see you tomorrow evening." And with that, Kane leaves her to her devices.

The moment the vampire is out the door, Keegan is up and searching the rooms for anything that could be used as a weapon. The kitchen is stocked with quality knives, not fatal to a vampire, but they'll hurt just the same. She also checks for anything that she could possibly whittle down into a stake. Wooden cooking spoons, a broom handle, even a table leg would do.

She grows increasingly more frustrated as her search turns up nothing. It makes logical sense, but it pisses her off anyway. She kicks the wall next to her in anger. The knives are much more risky, but if she can slice up his ankles or knees then he'll be incapacitated. Hell, cutting up his throat would choke him out, though this all depends on if she can avoid his iron grip.

Keegan flops back down on the bed and holds her head in her hands. She roughly wipes away a few tears that have gathered in her eyes. She is not gonna cry. She needs to be strong. Stay focused and get out.

For now though, she needs to try and get some rest. She’s exhausted. She lies down on top of the covers, not bothering to change her clothes.

----

Kane comes back the next night, full of excitement. He finally has his own human, just like he's supposed to! Sure, she's a bit feisty, but he's sure she'll mellow out with time, once she learns her place. He feels a little bitter that he can't just make her behave with persuasion, but he'll show that he doesn't need it. He'll show them all.

"Good evening, human," he greets as he enters the human quarters the next night.

"My name is Keegan." Keegan says from her place on the bed. She sits up with a huff. She didn't get a wink of sleep. Her head feels foggy. No escape attempts tonight.

“You presume too highly of your status if you believe we are on a first-name basis,” He condescends. This isn't something vampires with persuasion need to deal with. He'd be mortified if his family ever saw his human conversing with him in this way. “Speaking of which, you will refer to me as either Master or Sir.”

‘Oh, absolutely not.’ The idea alone sours her stomach. "You presume too highly of yourself," She mocks, "to think I'll be doing that, vampire."

Kane rolls his eyes and lets it go for now. There will be plenty of time for minor details like that: it's time for the actual important part. "Whatever. I'm hungry." He approaches his human. "Move your head to the side," he orders.

Keegan sighs and strips off her outer shirt, not wanting to risk it getting bloody. Her scars are now on full display. She has a few more than is usual for a hunter, as she tends to take more... active approach to hunting. Her coworkers might call it reckless, she calls it efficient. 

There's a handful of scratches down her arms and a bite around her wrist, but the most prominent one is a trio of deep gouges into her left shoulder. That one needed a lot of stitches.

"Does it really have to be the neck?" She asks. "The arm would work just as well." She holds her right one out.

Kane lowers her arm back down for her. "Yes," he insists.

He suddenly realizes he's not quite sure how to approach this. He never received lessons, like most nobles would. He tests out a few different angles before giving up on trying to figure it out and just biting down on his human's neck.

Keegan watches warily as the vampire scrutinizes her neck. She would much rather he bite her arm, the throat is so... vulnerable.  She focuses on keeping her breathing steady and tenses up when Kane seems to find what he's looking for. She cries out in pain at the bite. It’s so much worse than she expected.

He's not doing it correctly. He's not quite sucking blood so much as catching the blood that's coming out of her neck and into his mouth, too fast for him to swallow it all. Some blood spills down onto her collarbone.

Keegan’s eyes widen in alarm when she feels hot blood pouring down her neck. Fuck, he's going to kill her! She shoves against his shoulders in a panic, trying to pry him off. "Stop- Fuck, STOP!"

The shoving is bad, it's making everything worse. Kane rips his fangs out to speak. "Stay still!"

Normal vampires don't have to deal with this, a human who screams and fights back. It only sours his mood more. But- “That wasn’t right. It’s not supposed to go like that,” he mutters to himself.

Keegan scrambles back as soon as he lets go, covering her gushing wound. Kane's face is stained red and for a moment, all Keegan sees is the monster... It looms menacingly over her, eyes glowing. It's maw glistening with the blood of her mother who lies motionless behind it-

It takes significant effort to push past the memory. She blinks hard, focusing on the pain to keep her grounded in the present. "N-no shit!' She sputters.

Kane grimaces, frustrated with himself and his human alike. "Respect," he snaps, reminding her.

He dashes over and removes her hand from her neck, leaning in again.

The vampire has already torn open her throat, and now he's coming back for more. Keegan screams and tries to block him with her arms. "No! Don't touch me, you're going to kill me!"

"You idiot." Kane yanks her arms out of the way, then swipes his tongue across her wound. The blood quickly clots, stopping the bleeding. "Stop being so prone to panic. We're done for tonight." 

Keegan relaxes somewhat when Kane only closes the wound. She feels woozy from blood loss but at least she won't lose anymore. She slumps back against the wall.

" You tore a damn hole in my throat!" She says. "Haven't you done this before??"

“I… have not,” Kane admits begrudgingly, frustrated. "So you're simply going to have to be patient while I figure it out."

Keegan stares at him incredulously. "Wh- seriously? I'm the first?" Maybe that’s a good thing. If he's an amateur then he won't be expecting any serious resistance. But only if he doesn't kill her by accident.

"Well, here's a tip. Maybe avoid the artery next time." She says sarcastically.

Kane glares at her. "Watch the tone. We'll try again tomorrow." He sighs, shaking his head, agitated. "Do you have a list?"

One aspect of having a human with no persuasion that's actually good is that they can pick out their own food. A human would know best what a human eats, and if they eat well, so will he.

Right, the grocery list. Keegan was so caught up in her search for a weapon and general distress that she completely forgot that little detail. She remembers seeing a strange assortment of foods in the cupboards during her search. Keegan doesn't think she can make much out of just those ingredients, this isn't an episode of Chopped. She grimaces. "Right, uh. Give it here and I'll write some shit down real fast."

Kane's glare deepens. "Tone. This is your final warning. You do not give me orders, human. I give the orders, and you listen." He points to the kitchen. "Your notepad is in there. Write down your list and don't keep me waiting."

Keegan rolls her eyes. "Was less of an order and more of a suggestion. You just spilled my blood everywhere and now I'm lightheaded. But fine, since it's such an inconvenience for you.”

She snatches up the notepad and writes a short list of the first things that come to mind. Milk, cheese, rice, some vegetables, etc. After a moment of thought she adds hard cider, mostly out of curiosity to see if he'll get it. She tears off the paper, fold it in half, and hands it to Kane as she walks back into the bedroom.

Kane takes the note without looking at it, surely full of human foods he won't recognize anyway.

He doesn't like the way his human talks to him. "You will come to understand that you are the prey and I am the predator. You will do as I say and you will treat me with respect while you do it. Do not test me."

He leaves her, for now.

‘I've killed more of your kind than you have fingers on your hands,’ Keegan thinks. He'll realize who he's dealing with soon enough.

She takes a quick shower to rinse herself of blood and changes into one of the plain outfits provided for her. The pants are too small and don’t cover her ankles. She sighs in irritation. Then she rummages around in the kitchen to actually eat something, as that is probably a significant reason for her dizziness. She didn't exactly have an appetite yesterday after being kidnapped. Her neck aches fiercely all throughout.

After getting herself settled and fed, she lays out all her potential weapons on the counter. Time to make a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @whumpsday @not-a-space-alien @anomalys-taxonomy

Kane heard the familiar hum of the mail truck long before it reached the end of Jim’s driveway. The poor excuse for a vehicle sputtered along with its usual concerning wheeze. After hearing it for the first time, Kane had been waiting for the day when it inevitably gave out for good.  In the meantime, however, it would continue to deposit a meager collection of mass-mailed pamphlets in Jim’s mailbox once every weekday.

“Is that the mail?” Jim called from the kitchen, having apparently heard the telltale rattling on his own.

“Yes,” Kane answered simply, unsurprised that even a human was able to hear the metallic beast’s pathetic keening. After a moment he heard the vehicle’s direction of travel change, and Kane’s red eyes widened as his heart accelerated in his chest.

“It’s… it’s coming up the driveway.” His words came out strangled by fear, terror at the sudden and unexpected.

Of the days Kane had spent tucked away inside, hiding from the daylight that blazed beyond dark curtains, he’d come to embrace the comfort routine. He heard when the birds first began their song before dawn, and he listened to the wind shift through the nearby trees as mid-morning became afternoon. He found melodies in Jim’s footsteps upstairs, tracing the man’s path throughout the home each morning before he fetched Kane from the basement. Crickets began their crescendo as the sun began to fall towards the horizon, signaling that it would soon be time for Kane to return to the basement once more.

But the mail truck was supposed to pause for a moment before carrying on down the road. It wasn’t supposed to travel across Jim’s driveway and sputter ever-closer, carrying another human and goodness knows what else in its belly.

“Oh, Liz and Laken must have sent me a package,” Jim said with nonchalance. “Blaise drops any packages off on the porch, instead of the mailbox.”

The fact that Jim sounded unfazed did little to settle Kane’s growing panic.

“A package? But- but don’t they visit often? Why would they mail something when they can just bring it over?” The questions were all hiding Kane’s true concern: what’s the catch? How is this going to hurt me? Are the hunters finally coming back for me?

There was the brief sound of Jim drying his hands on the kitchen towel, and then he reemerged in the living room with a half-smile on his face. This one seemed genuine, kind.

“I think they want me to have a pleasant surprise now and then. I know money is tight for them, but they always find new ways to try and lift my spirits. Besides, if I refuse, Liz just starts counting how many birthdays and Christmases I missed.”

“Oh.” Kane’s anxiety coiled inside him like a spring. It was a painful reminder of those years he’d stolen from Jim, the years that Liz would never be able to return with a thousand well-meaning gifts. It was a reminder that Kane was a monster, and always would be.

The vampire soon realized that Jim had picked up on his nerves. He’d drawn the jacket tight around himself, pulled the hood in close to his cheeks, formed a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. It was like Kane was a child, trying to hide from the monsters in his closet.

Jim ran a hand through his curls and gestured halfheartedly towards the basement door.

“Why don’t you go downstairs for a few minutes? I’ll have to open the front door to get the package, and I don’t want you to worry about the sun.”

That was all the convincing that Kane needed. He willingly went down the stairs, past the silver door, and down into the dark recesses of his basement – no, the basement. He even let out a breath of relief as he heard the lock secured.

Moments later the rattling of the mail truck ceased to an idle hum. Kane could then hear Jim chatting with a stranger, their smiles evident in their tones.

“Hey, Blaise, how are you?”

“Doin’ just fine, Jim. I have a package here for you, not too heavy, but figured I’d spare you the walk down the driveway.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it, man. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay, the missus packed me some water for the road this morning.”

“Alright, if you say so. You take care now.”

“Likewise. Enjoy your afternoon, the weather out here is beautiful.”

Both of their voices were warm, friendly, alight with the jovial tone of passing acquaintances. The front door closed and Jim walked back to the kitchen, dropped his package and letters on the kitchen table, and then the lock on the basement door slid open.

“You can come up now. Blaise is gone, and the door is closed.”

Kane trotted up the stares obediently, relieved that Jim had been telling the truth, but simultaneously burning with shame. He’d made Jim go out of his way for something as simple as getting the mail, all because he couldn’t quell his own anxieties. Kane did nothing but complicate Jim’s life, all he’d done for the last decade was complicate it, and he wasn’t poised to stop any time soon. He felt the full weight of his burdensome existence deep in his stomach.

Although he’d heard the front door close, Kane swept his eyes carefully around the room before letting the basement door shut behind him. True to his senses, and much to his relief, there was no sunlight leaking into the house. Further inspection revealed pamphlets and a large box on the kitchen table, but Jim had seemingly ignored them in favor of the meal he had working on the stove.

The question dropped from his lips before Kane could swallow it. As anxious as the unexpected mail drop had made him, he was just as curious what Liz could have sent along through the post.

“Aren’t- aren’t you going to open it?”

“Nope,” Jim said without hesitation, and without apparent annoyance at Kane’s prodding inquiry. “It’s not a gift. Its garbage, and the garbage is where it’s going as soon as I’m done cooking these onions.”

“I can take care of that for you,” Kane offered, desperate to be helpful, especially after the scene he’d nearly caused because of a simple package delivery. Whatever was in that box was definitely a sensitive subject for Jim: Kane could hear it in the human’s rapid heartbeat and he could see it in his tensed muscles.

“It’s fine,” Jim said, his voice wavering a touch. “But… sure. Just dump the contents right into the trash, and put the box in after it, alright? Might have to cut the box down for it to fit.”

“Yes, Jim.”

Eager to assist, and pleased he’d remembered to use Jim’s name under pressure, Kane sprang forward and whisked the box off the table. His talons effortlessly split the tape and he proceeded to shake out the contents into the nearby trash can.

Much to Kane’s surprise, a pile of letters came fluttering out of the box, and they fell in piles onto the waste that was already sitting in the bottom of the trash bag. The panic that had just been quelled re-emerged. Kane drew in a breath and let out a shaking whimper. There was no way Jim had meant to throw out letters, right? They were handwritten, addressed to him by name, sealed with stamps and beautifully scrawling script.

“I- Jim- I don’t think this is- these are letters! They’re addressed to you!” His nervous exclamation was louder than he intended, but Kane wasted no time in digging his arms down into the wastebin, fishing out fistfuls of letters in a hurried attempt to save them.

When he glanced up, Jim had a scornful look on his face, which made Kane shirk back.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why they’re trash. Put ‘em back, stuff ‘em to the bottom of the can, and get the bag ready to go to the curb.”

Kane had to force a swallow, and he quickly dropped the letters back into the bottom of the trash. The rest followed, and he tore the cardboard box into pieces that he piled on top of the letters. Whatever they were, Jim didn’t want to see them, much less acknowledge them.

Before he closed the lid he noted the return address on the box. It fluttered to the bottom of the trash just like the letters, but not before Kane had taken in the sender’s identity.

Birchwood Forest Publishing, Inc.

That created more questions than it answered. However, Kane knew he had already pushed on Jim’s good graces with this matter, and the thought of upsetting him further made the hair on the back of Kane’s neck stand up straight. If this was something Jim wanted to keep a secret, Kane would let him have that secret.

Still, the curiosity gnawed at him like hunger.

---

Five days after the incident with the mysterious package, and four days since any remaining evidence had been schlepped outside for trash collection, Liz and Laken came to visit. Kane had been gradually growing accustomed to their visits, including Liz’s caustic stare. It was no less than he deserved.

The two hunters had just come off shift, so it was quite early in the morning when they’d arrived. Kane had heard their arrival upstairs, and he’d listened with earnest pining as the family laughed and joked and made their way through the otherwise quiet house.

Kane had been allowed upstairs after sunrise. The ankle restraints were familiar by now, even comfortable, and he was able to sit on Jim’s couch in silence as Laken retold stories of the last week in town. He was sure the interest was apparent on his face, but he sat rapt through Laken’s retelling of the butcher who had finally gained the courage to ask the diner owner on a date. Although the entire affair could have lasted no more than two minutes, Laken had managed to stretch the tale into almost ten minutes, and their impassioned dramatization was the most relaxed Kane had been in days.  

It was pleasant. There was no denying how nice it was, sat like a friend among these three humans, even if they largely ignored Kane’s presence. He was soaking in the laughter, the smiles, no matter the fact none were directed at him. Their blood smelled sweet, but not nearly as sweet as the joy Kane gained from listening to them laugh at something aside from his own pain.

The illusion of perfection was shattered when Jim finally piped up.

“Yeah, you won’t believe what I got in the mail this week. Another box of fan mail from the fuckin’ publishers. I told them months ago that I didn’t want them forwarding that shit anymore.” When he spoke he only sounded mildly irritated, at best, while Kane knew he’d been furious when the box had first arrived.

Kane immediately sat at attention, his calm dissipated, and he leaned forward as the siblings scowled in unison.

It had to be about the box and the letters, of course. There was no other noteworthy mail that Jim had received over the last week. “Them” could only mean one thing: Birchwood Forest Publishing, Inc.

“Fuckers,” Liz grumbled, and she took a sip of her cold cola, her lips smudging the frost on the side of the glass. “You’d think they’d at least screen it, right? You know, actually look at what they’re sending you, not just stuff it in a box and hope all is well.”

Jim scoffed.

“I don’t want any of it. No praise, no love letters, nothing. They can burn it, for all I care. Just stop sending it to my doorstep.” There was no hiding the sheer disgust that dripped from every word.

This only piqued Kane’s interest further. Why would Birchwood Forest Publishing send Jim love letters? And if they were indeed love letters, why did Jim speak of them with such vehement hatred?

Of the humans in attendance, Laken seemed the least bothered by the cryptic discussion. They stood up and stretched before grabbing the now-empty plate in front of them.

“I’m going to the kitchen to grab a beer and get the dishes started. Anyone else want anything?”

“I’ll be back once I take a leak,” Jim said, standing up alongside Laken.

“Guess that leaves me to babysit,” Liz said, to which the other humans laughed.

Kane’s cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. He knew that Liz’s words were in jest, but dread knotted in his stomach nonetheless. As Jim and Laken left, Kane wrung his hands together. Being left alone with Liz was always scary. Even now, before Jim had left the room, her glare burned holes in his tattered soul.

“So, do you even know what Jim was talking about? The letters?” She asked once both humans were out of earshot. The accusatory tone was yet another clue Kane hadn’t picked up on before – whatever this was about, it was because of him.

When it came to Jim’s endless pain and suffering, what wasn’t Kane’s fault?

“J- Jim got a package the other day,” Kane started. There was a soft waver to his voice, but he pushed on. “It was large box that came with the mail. He told me to throw it away, and I did- well, I started to. I thought he made a mistake, because it was letters, and they were addressed to him. But… he made it very clear that he didn’t make a mistake. He told me to throw them out without even looking at them.”

“Mhm.” Liz leaned back into the chair and crossed her right leg across her lap. “Do you know what those letters were?”

For a moment, Kane was tempted to lie. After all, Jim had told him to throw the letters out, not look at who the box was from. He didn’t want to admit that he had learned more than he’d been allowed to. At the same time, he felt as though Liz could stare through him and all his secrets.

“No. All I know is that the box was sent from Birchwood Forest Publishing, and that it made Jim very upset.” This confession came just as quietly, an admission that he’d snooped where he shouldn’t have.

“You know that Jim published a book, right? A book about what you did to him. A book about how he survived, despite that.” There was no missing the accusatory tone in her voice, that anger she never quite abandoned when speaking to Kane. It was a sound that made him want to sink into the earth and never reemerge.

Yes, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear that I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me please please please…

“Yes,” he squeaked out, and pulled his hands close to his chest, as though that could protect him from a hunter’s stake.

“Well, you see,” Liz continued with another sip of her cola, “the book was a bestseller. Everyone loved the story. A human escaping from vampire territory? It was unheard of, especially after five years in captivity. It sold like wildfire the first year, and the sales haven’t slowed down since. But that level of notoriety, well, it causes problems too.”

Of course it did. Everything Kane touched caused problems for Jim. Even the very story of Jim’s captivity, and his attempt to make some profit from it, caused years of cascading pain.

“I’m sorry.” This time he couldn’t stop the apology slipping from his lips. It burned in his throat, and tears pricked his eyes. There would never be enough apologies in the world for what he’d done, and the thought that it continued to this day ached in Kane’s very bones.

“You don’t know the half of it.” That acidic abrasiveness gave Liz’s voice an edge. “The book had only been out for a week when the publishers forwarded the first box of fan mail. That’s what they called it, anyway. These were letters that readers had sent in to the publisher, addressed for Jim, because the publishers are some of the only people in the world with his address. They gathered up the letters, put them in a box, and sent them his way. You should have seen the way he smiled, thinking that maybe he’d inspired hope in some people, or that he’d find someone else who went through the same thing.

“Sure, some of the letters were like that. They told him how brave he was, how they could never imagine being so strong, or that his story gave him hope that their missing relatives would come home safe one day. But there were awful letters too. People who wrote solely to tell him that he should have died in captivity. Vampires who snuck into human territory to send words of vitriol for all humans, not just Jim. There were letters that accused him of being a liar, that he’d made up all of that suffering for the fame. For every kind letter of inspiration, there were at least two more than made him sick. They hurt him all over again.”

Kane’s head spun. He’d known that humans could be cruel – he knew that intimately well after his stint with the hunters – but he had no idea they could be so cruel to one another. And because of his own ignorance, not just trusting Jim when he said to throw the letters out, he’d dredged up all that hurt again.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered, wishing he could hide his face. “I swear, I didn’t- I didn’t know. I never meant for people to hurt him like that, I swear, if I could stop it-”

Liz cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“For once, this isn’t your fault. I mean, it is your fault. But people being dicks for the sake of being dicks? Humans have done that to each other since the beginning of time. Still, it doesn’t mean that Jim can handle it, not anymore.”

That sisterly softness crept into her expression, sadness clouding her eyes. She didn’t look up at Kane, but instead down at the floor, focused intently on the edges of Jim’s rug.

“I won’t ask about the letters again,” Kane assured her. If he’d learned anything from his time in captivity, it had been that making mistakes was unforgivable. Jim had been kind enough to let the letters slide this once, and without comment. If Jim had been upset by Kane’s inquiries about the letters, he’d hidden it well.

“I’m sure you won’t,” Liz said. “If you do, and he gets upset, you’ll have to deal with me.”

It was a threat that was often left unspoken, so Kane didn’t hesitate to acknowledge it.

“Yes, I understand.”

After a moment of thought, Liz tilted her head to the side.

“Have you read his book?”

“N- no, I haven’t. The only books I’ve read are the ones he’s given me.” These were the words that Kane managed to say, but even more ran through his mind.

I don’t think I can read Jim’s book, not by myself. You’d have to tie me down and read it to me so I can’t run away from what I did. It just hurts too much. Haven’t I already paid the price? Do I just have to keep reliving my sins over, and over, and over again? Is this the rest of my life?

“Well, maybe you should one day.” Liz spoke in a noncommittal tone. “I know he has some advanced reader copies still up in his attic.”

Kane was spared having to answer as Jim walked back into the room. He patted water off his hands onto his jeans, and stared at Liz with a smirk.

“What, not helping Laken with the dishes?”

“It’s their turn,” Liz shot back without a moment’s hesitation. “I did them last time!”

The siblings continued their chatter and Kane took the opportunity to retreat into himself, pushing out the questions and the discomforts from his time with Liz. If he sat with them for much longer, he’d be sick.

---

Kane had excused himself to the basement looking rather ill, and Jim hadn’t pushed the issue. The hood on the jacket had come up and Kane had wrapped his arms around himself, which Jim had come to recognize meant Kane was having a bad time. Given that it had only happened after he’d left the vampire with Liz, however, he had his suspicions as to the sudden cause.

“What did you say to Kane?” he asked, giving Liz a pointed look. Her shrug and averted gaze told him that she’d pushed something she shouldn’t have.

“I just told him about the hate mail.”

“Dammit, Liz,” Jim groaned. “You think the guy doesn’t have enough guilt? I tried not to tell him when it came in the mail the other day, and that was on purpose. I can promise you he’s blaming himself for it now, and I’m sure that’s why he left early.”

“I told him it wasn’t his fault,” she said, somewhat defensively.

“Yeah, like that’s going to make a difference in his fucked-up brain! Ask me how I know.”

“He needs to understand that his actions have consequences. Sometimes, those consequences are so far removed from the action that they’re hard to conceive. I just wanted him to see that his actions have long-lasting effects in ways he’d never have expected.”

Jim sighed and brought a hand up to his neck. In his discomfort, even in front of his sister, he was compelled to cover his scar.

“He sees those consequences. He sees them every day, and I don’t think he needs any more punishment than he’s received. You’re not here all day with him. The guilt, and the trauma, they’re eating him alive. Every. Day.”

“If you say so,” Liz said. She wrapped her arms around him, a sensation he’d never grow tired of. “But if you ever need any help keeping him in line, you call me, alright?”

“I know,” he said, and closed his eyes. All he could see was Kane cowering away from him on the first day he’d been home. How was that the same vampire that had tortured him for years? “I know.”

---

“Hey, Kane?” Jim called down the basement stairs, unwilling to enter Kane’s space without permission or good reason. “Are you alright? Liz and Laken are gone, you can come up if you’d like.”

It took a few moments for the vampire to take him up on the offer. There was the telltale shuffle of chains around his ankles, which he hadn’t removed before Kane retreated to the basement. Those familiar red eyes appeared at the base of the stairs and Kane made his way up slowly, cautiously.

“You’re not in trouble,” Jim reassured him, hoping to head off any nervous questions before they emerged. “I’m not upset that you and Liz talked about the letters.”

“Oh. Okay, I’m… Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Jim said as Kane tip-toed into the first floor of the house. “You’re allowed to talk with my sister about things like that. Hell, you’re allowed to talk to me. You know you’re allowed to ask questions, right? If I’m uncomfortable I won’t answer, but you’re still allowed to ask. You’ll never be punished for asking.”

“Yes, Jim.” The answer wasn’t particularly convincing, but Jim wasn’t going to push it. He carried on instead.

“I know I was upset when the mail came, but you were still allowed to ask about it if you had questions. I would have told you why I was uipset. I was mad at the publishers for sending it, not at you for checking about the letters.”

Kane’s red eyes watered with sadness, but tears didn’t fall.

“I’m sorry,” the vampire said, all but blubbering. “I’m sorry that people have been so cruel to you. I know it’s- it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Jim tried to stress this, despite the small voice in his mind wanting to scream. Yes, of course it was Kane’s fault, in some distant way. But the Kane in that stupid book, the Kane that the rest of the world got to know, wasn’t the Kane that stood before him today. This Kane could hardly get a word out without sobbing.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Thank you for not getting upset.”

“Not upset at you,” Jim reiterated. “If you have any questions about the book, or the letters, you can ask. I might not be able to answer all of your questions, but I’ll try.”

He watched carefully as Kane looked down at the floor, then back up to Jim, and then back to the floor again.

“I… I had an idea.”

“Oh?” This came as a surprise to Jim. There were some things Kane had taken an initiative with, such as being useful around the house, but he rarely contributed any attempted ingenuity.

Kane fidgeted where he stood before continuing.

“You, uhm, did you like some of the letters? The nice ones?”

It had been a year since Jim had even opened one of the boxes from the publisher, and even longer since he’d read any letters the boxes contained. Even if there were a dozen letters praising his courage and complimenting the storytelling, one hate-filled page was enough to send him spiraling. It got to the point where even seeing the box in the mail spiked his anxiety and brought on nightmares.

It took a letter from a vampire, one who had managed to post the letter into human territory, to make Jim swear off opening them altogether. Those were the letters he remembered, not the kind ones. Those letters were the ones that gave him new nightmares.

“I suppose so,” Jim admitted with a sigh. “It was nice to hear from people who were supportive. I used to wonder if putting that book out into the world was the right thing to do, but enough letters convinced me that it did some good. I’d like to think it helped some people, wherever they might be in their lives. Maybe it still is.”

“Then… maybe I could screen the letters for you?”

This was something that Jim hadn’t foreseen. He stared at Kane with wide eyes, blinking in disbelief.  

“Wait. You mean you’d read through all of the letters?”

“Yes, Jim.” Kane’s voice rose in pitch, likely a combination of nerves and excitement. “I could read all the letters, and only pass on the ones that are kind and supportive. You’d never even see the other ones.”

An ache blossomed in Jim’s heart. This wasn’t just groveling and begging: it was Kane offering himself up as a barricade between Jim and the rest of the world, and he was doing so without any care for his own self-preservation.

Jim didn’t need prompting to remember some of the other letters he received. Letters that were neither expressing hatred towards himself nor admiration. There’d also been the letters from the vampire hunters and various victims, all dripping with hatred for not just all vampires, but Kane specifically. Undoubtedly, there were similar letters in the box that had been discarded just a few nights prior.

No words of affirmation from strangers would be worth putting Kane through that. Not now, not after everything had changed. Kane’s well-being was worth more than any hollow words of praise.

“No, man, it’s all trash. I don’t need that shit.” His smile felt painfully fake, but he put it on for Kane’s sake. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

A pause spanned the air between them as Kane’s distress prickled.

“And, uhm, Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Liz said I should… she said I should read the book. You never gave it to me, so, uhm, I’m not sure if you wanted me to, but I… I would do it, if that’s what you wanted. It would… it would be hard, I’m not sure I could do it on my own, but I’d try, I’d really try, if you said to.” The tears Kane was holding back were obvious as his voice cracked. He couldn’t even look up at Jim as he spoke.  

Dammit, Liz. Part of Jim wished she was still in his living room so he could ask her what the hell she’d been thinking when she said that.

Instead, he had to draw a deep breath in through his nose and let it out through his mouth. Yes, this was a sensitive subject, but he was ready to navigate it. Jim knew he was healing, because he patted Kane gently on the top of his head instead of screaming. There were things in those pages neither would be able to bear revisiting.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never read the whole thing,” he ended up saying. He was painfully aware of just how much in the book could wind up traumatizing them both if they ever dared to read the words. “I would never, ever ask you to read that. It was something from a different time in my life. A different time in your life. So long as the cheques keep coming in the mail, that’s all I’ll ever care about it.”

“Are you… are you sure?” The incredulity in Kane’s voice never ceased to break Jim’s heart all over again. Even after all this time in Jim’s home, it was like the vampire expected him to become as grotesque as the hunters.

“I’m sure.” Say it until you believe it. “It’s in the past now. For me, and for you.”

“I can handle the pain,” Kane choked out, tears coming in thick now. “I can, I swear. It’s the least I deserve, to try and understand…”

“No. I mean it. You’ve been through enough; no, we’ve both been through enough. The book is a paycheck, that’s it: it’s not a part of any fucked-up penance you think you deserve. I don’t want you to read it.”

“Okay. I understand, Jim.” The pain in Kane’s voice was still heavy, but Jim could bear it now. So long as the vampire was willing to back down, rather than spiral into a panic, they were making progress.

“Alright.” Another smile on Jim’s lips, this one feeling slightly more real. “As long as we’re on the same page – no pun intended.”

For the first time in almost two days Kane let out a sound that resembled a chuckle. He still didn’t meet Jim’s eyes, but that was okay. This is how their life was now. Baby steps, one day at a time.

“How about we get the kitchen properly cleaned up?” Jim offered, trying to brighten his tone. He couldn’t be jovial, not with his heart thundering so fast and the weight of the conversation on his shoulders, but he tried nonetheless. “I know Laken and Liz try to be good guests, but they never put the glasses back in the right spot.”

“Yes! I can do that.” Kane was still wiping tears from his cheeks, but his enthusiasm was impossible to miss. There was no mistaking his relief at being granted a task, one that he’d been praised for before.

Without another word, Kane darted off towards the kitchen on light feet, the jacket relaxed a touch across his shoulders.

Whumpee gratefully accepted this new privilege. They’ve been on their best behavior this week: not shying away when Whumper tries to cuddle up with them, accepting any punishments with gratitude, and even going out of their way to care for their captor’s needs. 

And, oh, life is so much easier when they’re not chained up in the basement. Now, the only thing acting as any kind of restraint is the shock collar around Whumpee’s neck. Whumper has used it countless times in the past as a sort of training tool, as negative reinforcement for whenever they try to talk back or disobey them. They’ve even got Whumpee trained to fear the sight of the remote, as it almost always brings pain and a lingering headache. 

But it’s alright, even that has been accounted for in Whumpee’s elaborate plan to finally get out of this hell. Amidst their constant state of paranoia, Whumpee still thinks this plan is almost perfect. It has to work.

Because if it doesn’t…well, Whumpee doesn’t want to think about that. 

Whumper didn’t seem to pick up on Whumpee’s scuttling each time they were left alone, and didn’t comment on how they’d been digging through drawers to locate keys and searching around for security systems or anything else that could aid them in an escape attempt. They didn’t appear to see through Whumpee’s risky attempt at manipulation, and even right now, they don’t stir as Whumpee slips the shock collar’s remote from a sleeping Whumper’s nightstand drawer. This way, if they do wake up, at least they won’t be able to turn the collar on. 

Hope flutters in Whumpee’s chest as they swiftly tiptoe down the hall, into the living room, and towards the front door. One hand holds the key to the front door (Whumper had made it a point to tell Whumpee that they had removed the inside lock in preparation for their new life upstairs). The other hand shakes violently and feels clammy as it grips the shock collar remote--but not too tightly. Whumpee’s heart hammers as they think about the possibility of accidentally triggering it…but they don’t want to put it in their pocket, because then they could shift and it would go off and everything would be painful. 

It’s alright, the shocks will be over soon. Whumpee is getting out.

They squeeze their eyes shut as they reach for the door handle, as if touching it would set off their collar. They knew it wouldn’t--shock collars didn’t work like that, and the remote was right here. And nothing happened, anyways! They’re fine.

Whumpee flings the door open and feels a breeze of crisp night air for the first time in…had it really been a few months now? It feels so nice, but Whumpee snaps themself back to the present. They have to go, now.

Whumpee doesn’t make it one step out onto the front porch before the prongs in their collar crackle to life.

They immediately lose their balance, crying out in pain as their body is wracked with shocks at the highest setting. But they had gotten the remote--how was the collar going off? They dropped it anyways, their fingers instead moving to claw at the painful sensation crawling up their neck and into their head. Get it off get it off get it off! 

But their twitching hands can’t seem to grasp the collar, and they can’t get it off even if they tried. Why didn’t they try to take it off first? Stupid echoes through their mind and they can’t focus on anything else through the pain. 

They don’t know how long they lay there writhing on the front porch. But at some point, they realize they need to go, they have to try, or else Whumper’s gonna get them and punish them and this is so painful they just want it to stop. Through everything, their adrenaline pushes Whumpee to their elbows and they attempt to crawl towards the front lawn.

They whimper as another wave of shocks rush through their body and hear a chuckle sounding from above them. No, they must be hallucinating, they have to under this much pain, right? Please let this be a hallucination.

Whumpee glances up to see Whumper looking down over their twitching form. Nononono, Whumpee tries to back away, but the shocks only seem to get worse and they cry out in pain. They shake their head, try to will themselves to ignore their convulsing muscles and run, but they can’t move, they can’t think. It’s too much.

“Oh, darling, look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” Whumper tuts, and Whumpee learned months ago that they find Whumpee’s pain amusing. In that way, Whumpee has played right into their hand. “Let’s get you back to your room, yeah?”

“N-n-no…” Whumpee whimpers in the first form of defiance they’d shown in weeks, ever since they started cooking up this little plan of theirs. So much for freedom. “...don’ wanna go back.”

“Whumpee.” Their captor’s voice snaps, all prior amusement morphing into stern impatience. “Let’s go. You’re going to wake up the whole neighborhood.”

Whumpee lets out a sob. As if that’s what they’re really worried about right now. 

Whumpee should scream. They should be doing everything they can to wake up the neighbors as a last-ditch attempt to escape whatever punishment Whumper has in mind. Maybe the neighbors could help, call the police, send someone to investigate Whumpee and find them. But through the waves of pain and months of conditioning, Whumpee can’t make themselves carry out their plan. They just want their neck to stop searing. Why did they ever think this was a good idea?

“Whumpee, now. You’ve already lost upstairs privileges, do you want to lose more?”

Whumpee shakes their head, the movement made even jerkier due to the shocks continuing to wrack Whumpee’s body. “N-no more, please.”

“Then let’s go. You have five seconds to get up and walk back inside.”

Whumpee whimpers. The shocks are too much--they can’t get up!

“One…” Whumper sighs, “Two…”

What other privileges could they lose? They were already going back to the basement, back to no comfort or freedom to move around as they please. This collar was already bad enough… 

“Three…”

Despite everything, Whumpee wills themself to stand. They try to take a step forward, but Whumpee’s legs give out from under them as their muscles convulse and they stumble. But this time, Whumper catches them. They’re led back into the house, and then everything stops. The pain is gone, save for the lingering aftershocks and muscle spasms that Whumpee has gotten used to after months of being shocked into submission.

Whumper pockets the remote, seemingly having turned off the collar. There was an off button this whole time?! Whumpee had been so stupid. They thought they had planned everything, that it had to work. Whumpee even took the remote and they dropped it after the shocks started. So there’s no way that they could've accidentally held the button for that long, and there’s no way Whumper would have been able to activate it without the remote…right?

“Good pet,” Whumper coos and lets Whumpee lean on them. Their voice is filled with disappointment as they add, “I’m really glad I bought that invisible fence. I had hoped that it wouldn't be necessary…but clearly, you still need some more training.”

Whumpee’s breath hitches. Invisible fence? Like the ones that…that shock dogs if they try to run off of their owner’s property? Their face falls as they realize that as long as this collar is on, they won’t be able to leave this house. 

Click for full resolution :)