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whumpninja · 5 months ago

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tried to save this for spooky season but screw it, vampires in summer. who cares. definitely not me.

Featuring: five (5) hot n’ evil vampire whumper ladies, one (1) sad wet cat of a bloodbag whumpee, blood drinking described in stupid amounts of lurid detail, THIS IS GRAPHIC FOLKS, blood drinking from places other than the neck, slit wrist, magic hypnotism (what do you call that thing vampires do where they control people?? that. it’s whatever that is), magic healing, discussions of mercy killing, dehumanization, creepy pet names

sweet william

The blood ran slick down her throat, warm and wet and syrupy. Thick enough to savor, but thin enough to flow. Right now it was still a stream of crimson, but in a short while it would be no more than a trickle. A little had spilled down her chin; she straightened up and dabbed away the red spot with her sleeve. Then, sighing with pleasure, she bent her head and continued her meal.

“Morgana, you have to share.”

“Mine is the right to begin, Selene.” Morgana bit down again, harder this time, feeling the moment her sharp fangs pierced through the soft skin. She watched the twin rivulets roll down from the wounds and licked the drops of blood up just before they fell onto the stone. “Tradition doesn’t say when I have to stop.”

“Before you kill it, I should hope,” Annabel said blandly from her seat at the other end of the cave. A rat perched on her head, another sat on her shoulder, and two more slept in her lap. She had at least a dozen. “We can hardly get another out here.”

“Lilah keeps trying,” Selene replied. She stood leaning against the wall, toying with the little knife she insisted on carrying with her. “She’s out there now, hoping to stumble across fresh meat. I don’t think she likes this one much.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine why.” That was Lucy, sitting on the floor at Annabel’s feet, humming a little song to herself. “This one’s so good and sweet. Isn’t it almost Annabel’s turn, Morgana?”

“Vultures!” Morgana complained, raising her head. She felt the way the blood dripped from her chin, the way her sisters stared hungrily at the scarlet droplets. “Can't you let me eat in peace?”

“No,” replied Lucy, in a voice like sugar. Her big, soft eyes were no longer black, as they had been the day before. They now shone a dark wine color and were getting brighter as her need for blood crept up on her. In a few hours they would be glowing hot and red, and she would attack the first living thing she saw. Selene’s brown eyes and Annabel’s hazel ones were also beginning to redden. Sometimes the bloodthirst was useful. But when they were trying so hard not to be discovered, they dared not risk letting themselves fall into that state.

With a sigh, Morgana stood. Power rushed like a river through her- she didn’t know what it was about this human, but his blood rejuvenated her like no others had. She would have had to drain a full-grown man dry in order to get the same effect a few mouthfuls of this one’s blood had on her.

And, of course, she had had much more than a few mouthfuls. She’d taken nearly half. It was her right as leader of the coven- the right to begin the feast, and the right to drink her fill.

Annabel was next by right of seniority- she was older than the rest of them put together. Morgana stepped back from the stone shelf that served as their table, letting the elder take her place. While Morgana preferred to take her time and savor her meals, Annabel was more brisk about it. Morgana didn’t feel the need to watch her sister eat; she’d seen it dozens of times.

So instead, she watched the human.

He was a soft little thing, as timid as a rabbit. They’d had him a year already, and yet she thought she would never be tired of seeing the fear in his big brown eyes. She loved the way his brows knit together in the middle, how his frightened eyes darted back and forth, how his chest rose and fell in terrified gulps of air. They didn’t need to restrain him anymore. At first, they’d had to tie him down on the stone table, and even then he had thrashed like a calf being butchered. Morgana had begun using her magic to force him to lie still, and that had worked beautifully. Now, she hardly even needed to use that.

Annabel craned her neck and sank her fangs into the meat of the human’s shoulder. A little moan broke from his lips as the blood started to flow. Only Morgana was allowed to drink from his neck- the most vulnerable place, the traditional area for biting. The others had their favorite spots, but his throat belonged to her alone.

Annabel was quick about it. She drank down several deep mouthfuls, sighing in pleasure, and then took a small clay dish and let it fill with blood. “Thank you, dearie,” she said happily, patting the boy’s head. She set the dish down on the cave floor and made little kissing noises, and all twelve of her rats came scampering over to drink.

Privately Morgana thought that was disgusting; the little creatures could find their own food. Her lovely cat Clover got along fine hunting squirrels and mice in the woods, not drinking blood with her mistress. But Annabel’s business was Annabel’s business. If she wanted to share her meal with her pets, that was her affair.

“Hurry up, I can’t wait any longer!” exclaimed Lucy. Annabel picked up the empty dish and sat back down in her chair, rats swarming over her. Lucy was up now, her eyes bright with hunger.

Selene raised an eyebrow at the younger vampiress. “If Lilah were here you’d have to wait even more,” she pointed out.

“Well, she’s not. So eat and then let me have my turn!”

Selene shrugged and peeled herself away from the wall, sidling up to the stone table. The human recognized her even in his dazed stupor; Morgana saw the flicker of fear that lit in his eyes. Selene never used her fangs.

Selene looked down at the human for a moment, then set the blade of her dagger against his wrist and slit the vein. The cry that tore out of the boy’s mouth was music. His back arched, and his head twisted to the side, his eyes filling with tears. His legs curled in on themselves and straightened out again, a long-buried instinct to fight back awakening only to die again. Selene rarely bothered with magic, even to keep a victim still. She liked to watch them struggle. Theirs never really fought anymore, not like he once had, but there were still the little helpless writhings of a creature in pain, and Selene enjoyed those as much as she would have liked a true scuffle. She kept her eyes on the human as she bent down to drink, a smile tugging at her lips.

Selene was messy about it, too. The blood spurting from the opened artery got everywhere, which would have driven Morgana mad but didn’t seem to bother Selene one bit. She had remarked once that she liked the feeling of blood splattering her face; it reminded her of a fresh kill.

And speaking of- “Careful, Selene,” Morgana warned, low under her breath. The boy was getting a little too pale for her liking. She didn’t want him to die just yet, and he was so fragile. Taking too much blood could very well be the end for him.

Selene raised her head. “We need a new one,” she said firmly. “If we can’t even get a good meal without it dying on us-“

“If you want more blood, go and find a farmer to eat,” Morgana shot back. “I like this one. You will not kill him. Not yet.”

Selene stared at her for another moment with narrowed eyes, then stood up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Fine. Lucy, your turn.”

“Finally!” Lucy jumped up and smoothed back her long black hair. “You took forever, Selene.” She sidled up to the boy, her eyes sharp and hungry. Morgana watched as she ran a gentle hand down his cheek. “Poor darling,” Lucy cooed. “She was cruel to make you feel all that.” With her other hand, Lucy wove a sigil of vampire magic in the air, pressing her fingers to the human’s forehead. For a moment he thrashed again. Then the magic took hold, and his body slumped to the stone. His brown eyes glazed over, and a little smile curved his lips. Lucy beamed. “There, sweetheart, isn’t that better?” She moved down the table, keeping a hand on the boy, until she got to her own favored drinking place. “This won’t hurt a bit, darling,” she promised.

Lucy licked her lips and bit down harder than even Morgana had, her fangs burying themselves in the meat of the human’s thigh. There was another artery there, and she severed it easily, letting the blood spray into her mouth for a moment before she bent her head to truly drink. If he hadn’t been enchanted, Morgana knew the boy would be screaming with pain. But Lucy’s magic made it so he felt nothing but pleasure and perhaps a little sting. Lucy liked her victims to think they were enjoying it.

She was, perhaps, the most dangerous one of them all.

Lucy took her time- not so long as Morgana had, but longer than Annabel and Selene. She kept stopping to glance at the human’s face, stupefied into a smile. Morgana wondered how far she’d taken it- had she only made him believe he was enjoying being fed on? Or had she woven some sort of illusion for him to lie in, dreaming that something else entirely was happening? She could do both. Morgana didn’t see the point, herself- it was almost kinder to let him feel it, let him know what was happening. As soon as Lucy was finished, the pain and the reality would both come back to bite him. Ha. Morgana smiled at the inward joke.

Lucy finished at last, snapping her fingers to release the spell she’d laid. The glaze on the boy’s eyes faded, and Morgana watched them fill back up with pain. He glanced almost frantically around the cave, unable to remember what had just happened. All he knew was that it hurt.

Watching that was almost as delicious as the blood itself.

Morgana almost stepped forward to take him off the table, but a voice interrupted her. “You started supper without me?”

The last of their little band came into the cave’s main room in a jingling swirl of gold beads and black braids. Lilah was humming, so Morgana knew she wasn’t truly angry.

“Did you find another one?” Selene asked.

Lilah pouted. “No. I think they’re watching for me now, after last time.”

Last time had been when Lilah had encountered a hunter in the forest and politely asked him if he wanted to be eaten. She’d been lucky not to be shot. Poor Lilah, Morgana thought. The young vampire tried so hard, but she just hadn’t gotten her head wrapped around- well, anything. A little simple, Selene had once said of her, and Morgana thought secretly that perhaps she was right.

“Go on and eat, little sister,” she said aloud. “You’re last, I’m afraid.”

Lilah shrugged, tossing her satchel to the side. “I don’t mind.” She practically skipped to the stone table, tipping her head as she looked at the human. “I’ll be quick, chickie, don’t worry.”

Lilah hadn’t really gotten the hang of magic yet, so she didn’t bother bespelling the boy. She also didn’t care that drinking from major arteries was much easier than drinking from anywhere else. Her claimed spot was a vein in the chest. Morgana watched as she bit down into it, the human gasping and writhing beneath her. Lilah mumbled something around her fangs.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Annabel reproachfully.

Lilah popped her head up. “I said, I’m going to try not to take too much. He seems tired.” She bit again, closer to the boy’s heart, and began her noisy meal. True to her word, she didn’t take long and didn’t take much. She hopped off the human with a little sigh and went to go dig in her satchel for whatever she’d found on her adventure.

Now that they’d all eaten, it was Morgana’s turn once more. She came to the stone table, looking down at their human.

The boy lay very still. Blood pumped sluggishly from the wounds they’d made, spilling red over his skin. His eyes were distant, unfocused, tears of pain streaming down his face unheeded. He’d given them everything he had to give.

Poor child. Five vampires were a lot to satisfy. Morgana raised her hands, weaving a healing sigil over him. Only she could do this part.

She took the finished spell in her hand and set it against each of his wounds in turn. The ragged punctures- and Selene’s cut- knit themselves back together at the touch of her magic, leaving dark bruises that would turn to scars in time. There had to be scars, with vampire magic. It never healed all the way.

The boy was too dazed and tired to react to the magic- he was used to it by now. Morgana helped him to sit up. “There, lamb, it’s over now,” she murmured. “You were so good for us, sweet. So good.”

Across the cave Selene scoffed.

The boy didn’t seem to hear. Morgana brushed the sweat-soaked curls away from his forehead, and he leaned into her touch like Clover often did, his eyes fluttering closed. “There now, little lamb,” Morgana said soothingly. “You did so well.”

“We need a new one,” Selene said. Her dagger blade flashed in the light as she toyed with it. “This one’s nearly spent. It gets weaker every time we eat. It’s been spelled stupid. I doubt it even knows its own name.”

“Oh, hush,” Morgana said. “You know your name, don’t you, lamb? I say it often enough. He’s our dear sweet William.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes when she said his name, she was sure of it. He’d be all right once he recovered, and they wouldn’t need to eat again for about a week. Soon he’d be back to his usual self, scurrying about the cave doing his chores, perhaps making a saucy comment or two when he felt brave.

With the fingertips of her free hand Morgana wove a tiny command sigil and set it on the back of his hand. “Go and rest now, little lamb,” she said, and he obeyed instantly. She watched him stumble to the fireplace at the side of the cave- Lilah had managed to bring along a Persian rug when they’d had to flee into the woods, and the boy slept there now. He almost fell onto the rug, curling up with an adorable little sigh. He was asleep in moments.

“You might have had him put his shirt back on,” remarked Annabel.

Morgana tossed her dark curls irritably. “My, how clever we are today. Does anyone else have an opinion on how to run this coven they’d like to share? Lucy? Lilah?”

Lucy took the hint and wisely shook her head.

“Now that you mention it, I think we all ought to have a picnic once a month,” said Lilah.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell if you’ve spent too much time in the woods or not enough.” She leaned down to pick up Clover, who was rubbing her legs and meowing for attention. The cat bumped her little black head against Morgana’s chin as she continued. “Regardless, I am the leader of this clan. We’ll get a new blood source when I say we will. And that’s the end of it.” She looked around, daring any of them to challenge her.

None of them did.

Satisfied, Morgana set Clover down and went to the fireplace, crouching by the sleeping boy’s side. She couldn’t explain what drew her about this one compared to the many others she’d drained in her long un-life. He was just…special.

Selene had come up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the dying fire. “Morgana,” she said in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear. She took up the poker and stabbed at the logs. They’d need more wood soon, but the human wasn’t in any shape to be collecting firewood just yet. “You know it would be a mercy to kill it. It’s barely clinging to life. We can find a better one easily and let this one rest.”

Morgana sighed. “I know. But he’s…I can’t explain it, Selene. He’s special. There’s something about him. The taste of his blood. The way he looks at us with those big, scared eyes. The way he even has the ability to feed five vampires without dying. I can’t let go of him yet.”

“When you decide you’re ready, I’ll do it for you,” Selene offered. “I’ll make it quick. Painless. It’d be a kindness to him, Morgana. And better for us too.”

Morgana answered with a noncommittal hum.

Selene wandered away, likely to do something frightening with knives. At the back of the cave, Annabel sat in the old rocking chair they’d found, petting her rats. Lucy was embroidering something, stitching spiderwebs onto it in black thread. Lilah slouched cross-legged with her back to the bloodstained stone table, sorting through whatever junk she’d brought back from the woods.

Morgana retrieved the boy’s threadbare white shirt from the side of the cave and gently draped it over him. “I won’t let her kill you,” she said softly. “No, you’ll stay with us for a long time yet. I’m already looking forward to our next meal.” She brushed aside the black curls and wove a dream sigil for him, laying it on his forehead. The furrows in his brow eased, and Morgana smiled. “Sleep soft and dream sweet, little lamb,” she whispered. “My sweet William.”

#vampire whump #vampire whumper #bloodbag whumpee #whump #whump writing #historical whump #magic whump #blood #slit wrist #graphic descriptions of violence #jack be whumpy

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