Hellfire

To burn with need and passion

Cold, he was so very cold.  Yet he was stretched out on his stomach, on a relatively plush mattress, considerately laid out in the path of a sunbeam in which he could bask.  Still his frail body shook and shivered piteously as he emitted a low, keening whine. This wasn’t cold, not exactly; it was the chill of emptiness. Something was missing, something he needed, desperately.

 

With a super-human effort, he took control of his rebellious limbs and pushed himself to a kneeling position by straining his skinny arms. After only a few seconds there though, his sad nighty-five pounds proved too painful on his knees and prompted him to shimmy backward until his sore back rested against the nearest wall. There he tugged up his knees and hugged them to his bony chest, curling his black cat’s tail around his ankle to complete the ball. The ball-like pose wasn’t as comforting as it had been though. The empty cold still gnawed at him from within, making his clawed fingers dig into his skeletal fore-arms as he trembled.

Resting his forehead on his knees and choking back quiet sobs, the feline teenager managed to succumb to his exhaustion despite his discomforts, and was dozing fitfully in that corner when the sun set and the biting cold finally ebbed.  A crucial moment of relief that came and left as the cold gave way to an agonizing hunger that woke him suddenly and pulled a sharp cry from his raspy voice.

That. He needed it. He needed it now. He didn’t know how he knew, he didn’t care. He just needed to have it. He couldn’t wait anymore. He couldn’t.

When his beloved, his Master, came into the dark cell for his nightly visit, the cat was in wild state of agitation. There was no hesitation in the small male as he launched himself into the vampire’s arms; his green and blue cat’s eyes overflowing with desperate tears as he clung onto to the shirt of his tormentor.

“Jareth… Please… It hurts… Make it stop…” He whimpered pitifully, nuzzling and kissing the vampire’s neck and jawline.

“No treats for bad kittens, Will. You deserve it.” Came the older man’s sharp reply, softened by his hand coming up to sweetly rub the feline’s fluffy ear. “Or are you sorry now, hm? Sorry you bit one of your betters. Sorry you made your Love look like a fool in front of his friends?”

“…He wanted to- No! No one else can touch me. No one but you… Jareth… I can’t be sorry. I can’t… They aren’t allowed…”

“They are if I give them permission, kitten. So you will behave from now on? My word is absolute. Right?”

Meekly, the teenager stretched himself up onto the tip of his toes, placing a light, sorrowful kiss on the man’s fanged grin. “… Yes my Love. Absolute.” He quietly muttered, voice catching in a whimper. “Forgive me… Please…”

Jareth’s grin grew then, to a wicked smirk as he caught the boy’s chin roughly and tilted his head aside. The vampire’s free hand snapped the collar away from the cat’s pale throat before sinking in his fangs to feed, and inject his venom.

There it was. The burning feeling in the cat’s veins. The pain banished by the venomous fire that spread from the bite out to every last fiber of his delicate form. This was what he’d needed, what he’d craved. Reaching up to tangle his slim fingers in his once-beloved’s dark hair, Will let out a soft sigh of relief and let himself sink deeper into the arms that held him and the whirl of the blissful heat coursing through him.

Author's Note

A vampiric-arc story; set after Watchful and Engagement Night.