Day: January 17, 2024 (Page 1 of 4)

A Passage Into Darkness – Part 3
By
Rwxxx13 (rwxxx13@yahoo.com)

It turned out that running down a highway at sixty or seventy miles an hour wasn’t at all good for your clothes. By the time dawn was threatening, Rene was still over a hundred miles from New Orleans, and his new jeans were threadbare tatters from the knees up on the inside of his legs. His new tennis shoes were in similar shape, hanging off his feet. Off in the treeline, fifty feet from a highway which was showing a decent amount of traffic at 6am, Rene kicked off the shoes, and stepped out of the jeans. He was left in just a pair of gray boxer-briefs, which themselves were ruined all along the inside, his penis and balls dangling in empty space. Disgusted, he ripped them off as well, and naked from the waist down, he slipped further into the forest.

He began to dig, watching the sky, but not needing to. His body knew when the sun was coming. Sleeping in the ground wasn’t his favorite thing. It made him feel truly dead, although he’d done it many times over the last few years. His sense of self had come back to him though, and he hated having to revert to something so animalistic. There was no choice, though, as he had no time to find better shelter. He snuggled down into the shallow grave, then scooped the dirt over himself, lamenting the waste of a good shower as he felt the dirt sliding between his legs, into the cleft of his ass. Before he covered himself completely, he had the bright idea of at least taking off his shirt and stuffing it in the backpack. Naked, he gave himself to the earth.

Rene woke precisely as the sun dipped below the horizon. He thrust himself up out of the dirt, then reached down to work out the backpack. He looked down at himself, disgusted to see he was once again covered in dirt. He brushed himself off as best he could, using the remaining bit of the right leg of his tattered jeans as a sort of dry washcloth. He wasn’t clean, but he was at least cleaner. Not wanting to ruin more clothes, Rene pulled the backpack up on his shoulders and began running again.

A bit over two hours brought him to the outskirts of New Orleans. He could have run faster, but this early in the evening he couldn’t chance commuters watching a pale, naked boy race down the highway at inhuman speeds. Going back to his adopted home was taking a chance, he knew, but he was determined to do it right this time. He would feed only as much as he had to, leaving no bodies behind, a whisper soon forgotten, with no rumors to make it back to the shadowy underworld of vampire society.

He went off I10 into Laplace, sneaking through the town until he reached the Mississippi. There on the shore he washed himself as best he could, and put on clothes again. They made him feel almost human. He just wished he had shoes. He headed back out to I10 then, stopping at a Pilot truck stop where he was able to easily get a ride from a trucker heading into New Orleans. The man wanted him desperately, and he was happy to take the fat man’s blood while the man got to enjoy sucking Rene’s small cock and drinking down his energizing emission.

East of the airport, Rene easily talked the man into going into a Walmart Supercenter and getting him a pair of size six tennis shoes. The little vampire was happy to snuggle his feet into them, not having owned new shoes in years. He felt like he could jump ten feet. Heck, maybe he could. He’d have to remember to try.

*

Turned out he could. Turned out he could do any number of things; things even Matheus hadn’t told him about. He’d been in New Orleans for nearly four years now. It was only May, but in November he’d be nineteen. He felt different inside, but of course he still looked the same outside. He had never again lost himself in that feral state, but his life was a lonely and solitary one, although that was a fact that he was still just coming to realize.

As he left Kurt’s home, he headed south toward the river accompanied by the singing of cicadas. There was a Walmart Supercenter there, where he knew he could get some jeans. He didn’t worry about anyone there recognizing him from previous visits over the past few years. His looks were certainly memorable, but places like that had a high turnover, and Rene visited only infrequently.

The little vampire reached the parking lot and stood in the darkness right on the edge of the overhead lights. Moving into the bright lights toward the front doors felt wrong. Rene was a creature of darkness and shadows. Bright fluorescents always made him feel uneasy. They also made quite evident the paleness of his yellow hair, and the alabaster cast of his skin. He didn’t normally look unusually white, although he found he grew paler and paler the longer he went without feeding. Still, there was no mistaking the anemic look of his skin. Normally. Tonight, flush with Kurt’s blood, he looked like a boy who didn’t spend a lot of time outdoors, a normal enough thing in this time of rabid fear of kidnappers and child molesters. There was nothing he could do about the color of his hair though, which, untouched by the sun in seven years, was a washed-out, almost colorless yellow.

The greeter, an elderly man, barely acknowledged him as he walked into the store. Rene oriented himself, remembering the layout of the store, and the large sign which read BOYS confirmed his memory. Making his way past the jewelry counters, past bored middle-aged women, he entered the Boys department. He began looking for jeans.

“Hey,” said a voice from behind him. Rene turned to find a girl, perhaps nineteen, with close-cropped black hair with purple tips, and multiple earrings in each lobe. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“Wow,” she said. “Ain’t you a cutie?”

“Hi,” Rene smiled, thinking that this girl was his own age, although nobody would believe it. He liked the way her modest breasts pushed against her too-tight blue Walmart polo shirt. Her name tag read Camilla.

“You’re out late,” she said, then made a show of looking around. “Your mom or dad with you?”

Rene could sense her interest, the way her eyes danced over his body. It was a bit unusual for a girl her age to find him sexually desirable so quickly, before he could show them what a sensual being he could be, awakening them to the thought and the possibilities. This girl hungered for him right away. Rene was intrigued.

“She sent me to get some jeans,” Rene lied. “She works late.”

“Well, I can help ya, darlin’,” she said. She made no effort to hide she was looking him over, then she asked, “What size are you?”

Rene knew he was a size twelve, but he didn’t tell her that, just shrugging instead and saying, “I guess I don’t know.”

Camilla seemed pleased by the answer. Looking around, she nibbled her lower lip and then turned back to him, holding out her hand. Rene took it. “Come with me,” she smiled. Arriving at the fitting rooms, she grabbed a tape measure from a stand and took a final look around. “We’re not supposed to let people use the fitting rooms at night,” she said conspiratorially, pulling keys off her belt and opening one.

The girl ushered him inside, then carefully shut and locked the door behind her. Rene was glad to see it wasn’t one of the half-door types. He figured it was probably protection against kids getting peeked at by pervs. Speaking of pervs…

Camilla sat on the little bench facing him. She made a show of unwinding the plastic tape measure. Looking up at him, she licked her lips and gave him a nervous smile. “I never even asked you your name,” she said.

“Rene,” he answered, not bothering yet to empty his mind, interested to see how this played out without the glamour. He knew she would fall under almost instantly. The more they wanted him, the easier they succumbed.

“That’s such a pretty name,” she breathed. “For such a pretty boy.” Her face twisted abashedly, and she said, “Sorry, I meant handsome.”

“I don’t mind if you think I’m pretty,” Rene said softly.

“You really are,” the girl breathed. “I love your hair. I’ve never seen hair that color.”

“I’ve never seen hair your color,” Rene smiled.

Camilla grinned and lightly smacked his stomach, her hand lingering just a bit too long. She bit her lip. “So… Rene,” she began nervously, her eyes flitting to his and then away, to and away, “if I’m going to get a good measurement, I’m gonna need you to take these off,” she said, reaching out to lightly caress the outside of his left leg. Then she caught his eyes, “Is that okay?”

“Should I take my shirt off, too?” he asked. “It’s pretty big.”

“That’d be a good idea,” she breathed, then stared as Rene peeled the Jurassic Park shirt up and off. He hung it on a hook while the girl drank in his body. “You’ve got great muscles,” she said, her hand once again reaching out to lightly caress his bare stomach, before remembering herself and pulling back.

“Thanks,” Rene said. Then, remembering his earlier conversation with Kurt, he said, “I play soccer.”

“I can tell,” she said. Then she glanced downward. “I bet you’ve got great legs.”

Teasing, as he unbuttoned his jeans, he said, “My coach says I do.” Then he lowered the zipper and began to push his jeans downward, revealing the Flash underwear he’d taken from Kurt. He was suddenly glad he wasn’t wearing the dingy grayish pair he’d had on for the last few months.

“The Flash,” Camilla smiled, eyes dancing as she stared at his lightning bolt covered crotch. “I love the Flash,” she said. “Do you watch the show?”

“Sure,” Rene lied as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. He hadn’t been aware there was a show. He hadn’t watched television in years. Thinking about the months wearing the same stretched-out ratty briefs, and the tiny room he was living in, he began to wonder if he’d gone from one bad life to another.

“Your legs are great,” Camilla murmured, her eyes never leaving his crotch.

Rene thought about taking off his colorful briefs, but figured that might be taking things a bit fast if he wanted to avoid glamouring the girl. Instead, he said, “So, how big am I?”

The double entendre wasn’t lost on the girl, but he doubted she thought it was intentional on his part. “Let’s find out,” she said brightly, finally tearing her eyes away from the front of his briefs.

She reached around him, her face inches from his stomach, and adjusted the tape measure around his waist, just below his bellybutton. She brought the ends together in the front. “Twenty-five and a half,” she smiled, then winked and said, “We’ll call it twenty-six.”

She lowered the tape in the back, and Rene could feel it whispering over his ass. “Now the hips,” she said. This time she brought the ends together closer to his left hip, and Rene quickly realized why, as the tape was just tickling the head of his penis through the thin briefs.

“Rene, have you ever had your inseam measured?” Camilla asked, letting the tape fall from around his hips.

Rene remembered when he was ten, getting fitted for a tuxedo for his Aunt Becky’s wedding. He remembered the shock as the obviously gay man snugged his fingers up against Rene’s tiny scrotum. “Once,” he answered.

“Okay,” the girl smiled. Then she winked. “I didn’t wanna shock you.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her.

She reached down, putting one end of the tape against the ground, then slowly drew it upward, the back of her hand tracing along his inner leg. He could hear and see her rapid heartbeat, the more rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened. She gave him one last look, as if for permission, but her eyes flicked away before she could see whether he would give it or not. Instead, she gently nuzzled her fingers up against his testicles.

“Twenty-six,” she breathed, looking at the tape but making no move to relocate her fingers. Long seconds passed before the girl finally realized what she was doing and snatched her fingers away. She began to nervously roll the tape back into a coil.

It was too late for Rene. His penis was already growing. Within moments he was lewdly stretching the lightning bolt symbol with his straining, boyish erection. Camilla noticed it almost immediately and her hands stilled, no longer rolling the tape, simply sitting and staring.

Rene practiced lines in his head. Are you sure you measured everything was promptly discarded. Too crass. Could you measure this, was also quickly conceived and rejected. In the end, he went for what he hoped was a good mixture of naivete and a virginal attempt at seduction. Putting a little nervous tremor into his voice, Rene said, “Are you sure you got a good measurement? I… I could take these off, too.” He hooked his thumbs into either side of his yellow waistband.

Camilla looked up at him, obviously a bit shocked. Then her eyes dropped back to his bulging crotch. Back to his eyes, quickly measuring, testing, thoughts racing behind her eyes. Her eyes flicked to the closed door nervously. He could feel her excitement, the smell of her. It made him even harder. “Maybe I could do your hips again,” she said faintly, swallowing nervous excitement. “Without them.”

Rene didn’t hesitate, quickly skinning his briefs downward, his little erection swaying as he kicked them off his feet. Camilla’s eyes were wide and staring.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. She tore her eyes away from his cock long enough to glance at his eyes, then quickly flicked them back to his dick. “You don’t have any hair,” she said, awed. Back to his eyes, blushing. “I mean… I knew some boys… I figured…” she blushed prettily. “I’m just…” she giggled. “I don’t know why, but it’s such a turn-on,” she finally said.

Rene glanced to his left, seeing the both of them in the full length mirror there. He stood, his pert asscheeks taut, his muscled stomach flat and leading down to a lean, hairless groin. His four-inch erection stood straight up, bouncing with his excitement, the helmet-shaped head flaring and pointing back just the tiniest bit toward his groin. With Kurt’s blood still suffusing his body, his skin was only slightly pale, his dime-sized nipples stiff and almost pink.

“You’re so beautiful,” Camilla sighed, her voice a bit raspy.

Rene wanted her, but he wanted answers first. He was curious about her. He could simply ask, but he had the feeling that the questions he would ask wouldn’t engender ready answers. So he softly spoke her name. “Camilla.”

She looked up into his blue eyes, eyes that were just as crystalline and sparkling as they’d been when he was alive. His mind was a void, and the tiniest thrust of his will completely rolled her. He saw the haze across her vision, and he smiled.

“You like boys,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. “How long have you known?”

“Not long,” she answered dreamily.

“A month?” he asked. “A year?”

She licked her lips, thinking, her eyes lost in his. “A few months,” she said.

“What prompted that?”

“Christian,” she said.

“Who’s Christian?”

“My little brother,” she answered.

Interesting, he thought. “Tell me about it.”

“He’s twelve,” she said. Her eyes lowered again so that she was once again staring at his stiff penis. She licked her lips. “A few months ago, I came home early. I was working second shift back then. I was supposed to be working, but they’d overbooked the schedule and Mike sent me home.” Her eyes drifted as she thought back.

“My mom doesn’t get off work till six. It was only about four. I called out to Christian, but he didn’t answer. I went upstairs to change out of my uniform, and his bedroom door was open. He had earbuds in, so he didn’t hear me, and his eyes were shut.”

She tore her gaze away from his penis again, meeting his eyes, as if seeking approval. Rene nodded for her to continue. “He was naked,” she said, her hands drifting unconsciously up to cup her breasts. Rene could see that her nipples were hard. “He was… it… he was hard,” she said. “Like you.” She licked her lips. “He was jacking off. I don’t know why, but he was just so beautiful. I’d never seen him like that before. You know… like… sexually.”

“Then what happened?”

“I just watched. For a minute or so. His hips were… you know, starting to move, and I knew he must have been pretty close to… you know… and I got nervous he would see me. I wanted to stay and watch so bad. I’d never been so turned… excited.”

“So you left?”

She nodded. “I went to my room. I couldn’t help myself. I… I did it, too. Thinking about him. I could hear him when he came, his little gasp.” She blushed. “After I… finished, I got dressed again and left my room. Christian was dressed by then, sitting on his bed with his iPad. He was surprised to see me, and that’s when he realized I must have walked by his door, and when I realized that he’d realized it.” She smiled ruefully. “I should have gone downstairs and made a bunch of noise or something, but I didn’t think about it ’cause I was… you know… horny.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Well,” and she glanced up at him a bit guiltily, “kinda nothing.” She continued. “That night, about one in the morning, I snuck into his room. I was so scared. I knelt by his bed, and pulled back his sheet. He wears these pajama bottoms to bed, but I knew he didn’t wear underwear because I’d see him in the morning, you know, pitching a tent. It had been happening for a few months I guess. I used to tease him about it. Me and my mom. But I didn’t think it was funny anymore. It had been cute before, but after that… Anyway, I unsnapped his pj’s, and looked at him. It was… soft, but I took it in my fingers and soon it was hard. It was so beautiful. I wanted to… suck it,” she said nervously. “So bad. I didn’t though. I was afraid he would wake up. I hurried back to my room. I didn’t even snap his pj’s back up again. In the morning, he came down for breakfast and he… it, was hard again. Poking against his pj’s. He gave me this look, like he knew. I didn’t tease him about it after that. I just… I try not to look, but I think he knows I can’t help it. A couple of weeks ago I even saw him completely naked in the hall. He’d just gotten out of the shower and… he never even tried to cover himself, just said ‘Hi, Cam’, stiff as a board and just walked into his room. I know it’s wrong. He’s my brother. I can’t… you know, but I just can’t stop thinking about it. And not just him. All boys now. Christian, my cousin Dylan, boys I just see on the street or on tv. I even moved to night shift because all I wanted to do was follow cute boys around the store.”

“And now you have,” he smiled. Camilla returned the smile nervously. “You can suck me, if you like,” he said.

“I can?” she asked, voice full of hope and longing. “I won’t… get in trouble?”

“No trouble, I promise,” Rene told her.

With a sob of joy, Camilla thrust her face into Rene’s crotch. She just pressed herself there for long moments, her nose nuzzling against the hairless base of his cock, her cheek pressed against his throbbing hardness. She placed a tender kiss against his scrotum, then poked her tongue into it. She was moaning, humming, lost in the joy of the moment. Slowly her hands crept up the back of his legs, along his hairless calves, the back of his knees, his smooth thighs, until she was gently squeezing his ass.

Camilla moved a bit so that she could lick at the little vampire’s hanging balls. Gently, she sucked one into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the grape-sized nugget, then she carefully took the second one into her mouth as well. She suckled him while her nose continue to nestle against the base of his cock, smelling him, drinking in the fresh shower scent of him.

Rene continued to watch in the mirror as the nineteen-year-old sucked gently at his balls, his sac stretched. The girl was bouncing lightly as she drank him in, and he could sense her desire. As he watched, she released his shining balls from her mouth, pulled back for a moment to stare at his crotch, and then she leaned in and slid her tongue firmly and wetly along the length of his dick. Once again she sobbed in pleasure.

She looked up at him then, in wonder. “How can you be so beautiful?” she asked. Rene smiled down at her.

Camilla hooked a finger around the base of Rene’s small cock, her palm pressing against his balls as she held the little rod steady, and then she almost reverently slid her lips over the immature cockhead, her eyes never leaving his. She slowly took more and more of him, the head of his cock sliding against the roof of her mouth, further and further back, inch after slender inch, until her red-painted lips pressed against the hairless base of him and the tip of his cock tickled at the entrance to her throat.

The girl began to suck at him, light suction as she drew her lips upward. She played her tongue in the sensitive spot beneath his glans, grinning around his boyish member when he groaned. Then she swallowed him again. Up again, then down, establishing a rhythm, her hands eagerly squeezing his pert little ass.

Rene felt his eyes glowing with excitement. Knowing she was under, he made no effort to hide his sharp, tiny fangs, allowing them to slide into place, watching her eyes grow wide as his tongue played over them sexily. He began to thrust lightly, his hips moving, gently fucking his cock into her mouth.

“Do you like that?” he asked. “Do you like my little boy cock in your mouth?”

Camilla pulled back to speak, releasing him. “It’s beautiful. It’s the most perfect thing ever.” She grinned and teasingly licked him.

“Take off your clothes,” Rene ordered.

Camilla stood and immediately pulled her shirt up over her head. She was wearing a lacy black bra. She kicked off comfortable walking shoes, then quickly skinned down her jeans to reveal matching panties. She unhooked her bra and shrugged her shoulders, pulling it off, revealing small, pale breasts tipped with boyish nipples. Her hips wiggled as she pushed her panties down. She had just a thin strip of dark hair, perhaps two-and-a-half inches long and less than an inch thick.

The girl saw him looking, looked down at herself and back up at him, smiling shyly. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“You’re beautiful,” the young vampire assured her.

Rene could see the girl was wet, could smell her sex, overpowering in the small cubicle. With no need to hide his nature, he reached out and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her feet off the ground. Snarling his lust, he turned and put her back to the wall.

“Put your legs around me,” he said, and she eagerly did so.

Pinned against the wall as she was, Rene was able to free his right hand, reaching down to grab his cock as he lowered her, quickly finding her center. The girl gasped as he entered her, all four of his throbbing inches sliding into her at once.

“Uh…,” she gasped. “It’s… uh… it’s in me… oh, Rene. Oh fuck… fuck it… f-fuck me!”

As wet as she was, and as horny as he was, he didn’t bother with preliminaries. He simply grabbed her beneath her ass and began to drive himself into her, hard and fast, his little ass a literal blur, pounding his small cock into her instantly abused pussy, the smacking of their flesh an almost constant noise, too close together to be discerned as individual sounds. Camilla’s mouth moved, gasping, trying to find words. She instantly came around him, her pussy gripping him tightly, rippling, increasing the incredible friction. She began to shake, unable to stop cumming as his cock brought her again and again, and again; one orgasm on top of another so that it was impossible to know where one ended and another began.

For two minutes straight, with enough thrusts of his cock to simulate an hour of normal fucking, Rene pounded into her teen cunt. Then he stepped back, easily supporting her, and twisted her so that in a split second she was left kneeling on the ground, her face against the dirty carpeted floor. He gripped her hips, sliding his little cock home again, and then stood there between her legs, her knees inches off the ground as he began to pound her again.

Pussies were a marvel, Rene mused as his skinny hips worked at incredible speed. She was as wet as ever, providing a perfect home for his small cock, and while she was much too into the moment just then to feel it, he knew she would be raw and sore afterwards if he didn’t do something about it. For another minute he continued to fuck her though, her gasps for air at the power of his thrusts made it difficult for her to catch her breath and filled the room. He wondered if anyone out there suspected anything, but he didn’t see any auras nearby and figured they were safe.

Finally, feeling himself getting close, Rene slid out of her, bending down to lift and turn her dizzyingly, and then he thrust his hard cock into her surprised mouth. She instinctively clamped her lips down around him, and he allowed her to suck at her own speed, which was unconsciously rapid compared to before. He gently held her head as he felt his little balls churning, and then he stiffened and shook as he shot his thin streams of bloody boycum into her mouth.

The girl drank him down eagerly, her eyes growing bright as his vampiric blood began to flow through her. She came again then, shuddering on the floor as she continued to suck at his cock. Rene was always interested in seeing how his blood affected humans. Some, like Kurt, were simply overwhelmed and became dazed. Others instantly slept. Some became incredibly energized. Some, like Camilla, just got even more turned on than they’d been before.

The girl redoubled her efforts on his cock, sobbing with ecstasy as her body shook. Knowing that his blood was currently healing any damage he’d caused between her legs, and that it would continue to do so for a bit, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back. He fell between her legs, and his tiny fangs instantly sank into her femoral artery. She gasped, shaking again, her pussy convulsing inches from his face.

Rene only took a small amount of blood. He’d already drunk his fill earlier, but he wanted to taste the girl. He lapped lightly at the tiny puncture marks, closing them, then slid his tongue up along her slit, tasting her there as well. Between his legs, his cock remained stiff, and he considered fucking her again, but he decided he’d had enough fun for one night, and he still had shopping to do.

Camilla kept grabbing at his cock as she dressed. She continued talking about how beautiful it was. She wanted to take pictures of him with her phone, which he allowed, but only as long as she didn’t capture his face. She took picture after picture of his hard cock from different angles, even numerous ones with her mouth on him, licking and sucking. He was tempted to allow her to bring him again, but the tiny spurt of blood he’d given her before was more than enough and more would be… unpredictable.

Afterwards, she insisted on dressing him, lovingly sliding his briefs up his legs, carefully situating them into place on his hips, adjusting his softening little penis just so. Then she dressed herself, growing excited when he mentioned that he needed help shopping. Some new underwear perhaps. Finally leaving the fitting room, unobserved to the best of his knowledge, Camilla eagerly picked out briefs for him, finding the ones in which she thought he would look his cutest. She begged him to model some for her, but Rene knew where that would lead.

Finally the boy vampire left the store with two full bags of clothing, none of which he paid for, and whispered instructions to Camilla that she could remember what they’d done, but she’d remember him only as a normal boy. She’d never seen fangs, or had her blood taken, or tasted his. He also promised to visit her again, but he wasn’t ready in his mind to commit himself in such a way. Usually he moved on to new prey, very rarely revisiting them.

Rene headed up Saint Andrews street, passing through the sliver of Boettner Park and then on to Chestnut. He was wearing brand-new jeans, and knew a few blocks at high speed wouldn’t do any noticeable damage, so he was a pale blur as he sped along the quiet streets, unseen by the very few people out and about on a Thursday at midnight. Turning left on Chestnut, he went a block before he had to hop a fence and race through the soccer field behind Trinity Episcopal School, as the city planners had for some reason decided to have the school and church divide the street.

From there, it was only another two blocks to the decaying mansion he called home. He slipped around the side, easily leaped up to the wide windowsill on the second floor with the swinging board, then slipped in and under the board, stopping its swinging so it hung undisturbed, looking just like all the other boarded up windows.

Rene carried his packages down the hall past the long strips of peeling wallpaper, up the crumbling staircase and then down another hall to his secret door. He carefully moved the shelf and false wall from his hidey-hole.

Inside his little room, Rene set the bags down along the wall and then just stood there. In the room were his bare, stained, twin-sized mattress, a pile of used paperback books, and two little piles of clothes, less clothing than was currently in his bags. He thought how nice it might be to have a little dresser to put his things in, but wondered how he’d get it through the second-story window, as well as the problem of people seeing a twelve-year-old boy carrying a dresser alone down the street.

Rene laid down on his mattress, staring up at the water-stained wooden ceiling. He smelled the mold and mildew all around him, and suddenly he was back in that little town south of Shreveport, in a stranger’s home, washing off the mold that was growing on his own filthy skin. The boy, or young man actually, found himself thinking about his life.

After Shreveport, it was like he’d rediscovered his humanity. The lessons Matheus had taught him, not just about history and geography and the like, but about how to embrace each moment of life, to savor the dark gift he’d been given, had all come back to him then, albeit slowly. Coming back to New Orleans had felt like a second chance, an opportunity for renewal, but lying in that tiny, dark room, aware of the decay all around him, he suddenly wondered if he’d ever truly left behind the thing he’d become after Matheus was destroyed.

The question he was left with after pondering it all for awhile was, what could he do about it? Matheus had owned a grand mansion, filled with antique furniture, expensive art, and curios from around the world and throughout history. Each room was a marvel, carefully curated and decorated, but completely unlived in by its occupants. Matheus and Rene occupied the huge, luxuriously appointed third floor, dotted around the perimeter with false windows, its only entrance a steel-lined door at the top of a staircase which was cleverly disguised to look like part of a large mural stretching along the hallway.

Matheus had had money though. Many bank accounts under many assumed identities, with teams of lawyers to help manage it all. Rene had perhaps four thousand dollars, mostly in small bills, stuffed into a child’s backpack he’d taken from the boy Michael all those years ago. He wasn’t sure what the answer might be, but he decided he’d be thinking about it.

The End

Copyright 2024 – Rwxxx13
All rights reserved

I know it isn’t finished. And as with all other stories written by Rwxxx13, it’ll never be finished. Sadly, he’s no long with us. So, please! Don’t ask me for more, or ask me to finish it! To make things perfectly clear: I won’t finish it. Feel free to do so yourself and send it to me for publishing here, but I’m not going to write it. Rwxxx13 was a magnificent writer of the smut we like so much, and I’m not touching his stories. Just so you know…

A Passage Into Darkness – Part 2
By
Rwxxx13 (rwxxx13@yahoo.com)

Rene Lenier was twelve years old when he died. He’d come to New Orleans with his parents and little brother for vacation on the way to Disney in Orlando when he was eleven. That’s when Matheus saw him. Matheus was an old vampire. Very old. Rene wasn’t sure how old, but he’d talked about the French Revolution and even older things. Matheus said that Rene was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. That was scant consolation to a kidnapped eleven-year-old boy. In fact, it was pretty awful.

Rene had been snatched off the street after going into a public bathroom to pee. Matheus admitted he’d been watching him for hours, waiting for an opportunity. Rene should have been safely in bed already, but he and his little brother had begged their parents to let them stay up just a bit longer to enjoy the sights of the carnival they were visiting. He’d cried for days when Matheus took him, even more when he found out that Matheus wasn’t even a man, the first time he’d taken his blood and Rene had seen his fangs.

For a long time he never knew where he was. Matheus kept him locked inside a luxurious room without any windows. Over the next nine months he’d sometimes bring young men or women home, feeding from them. Sometimes he just took a bit of blood, his glamour sending them off afterwards glassy-eyed and hypnotized. Other times he killed them, carrying their drained corpses out into the night as if they weighed as much as pillows. Matheus explained that the ones he killed were evil, but Rene didn’t understand that. Not at first.

Soon after Matheus began to drink from him, Rene found out all about sex. He knew about sex of course, whispered conversations, giggling boyish laughter in the dark, heart-pounding excitement staring at porn on the internet with friends, little penises stiff as nails, sharing nervous smiles. Still, real sex was a mystery, and gay sex something he’d barely imagined. Matheus was an attractive being, even Rene saw that, but the old vampire, who appeared to be in his late twenties, wasn’t the sexual partner the boy would have chosen. Still, Rene came to enjoy it. Even the anal sex, which had hurt horribly at first. He even came to enjoy the feeding, discovering a sexual thrill each time the vampire bit him. It was something in the saliva, Matheus eventually explained.

Matheus explained a lot of things. He was a wealth of knowledge and he seemed determined to share it all with his young captive. They spent many nights talking about history, which was Matheus’ favorite subject. It was by no means the only one, however. They talked about music, and art, about different cultures and far away places. They spoke of philosophy, and theology. Matheus also spoke at length about sex, about seduction, about courtesans and the art of making love, both to a man and to a woman. Rene wasn’t sure when it happened, but he eventually fell in love. Or at least he thought it was love.

Seven months into his captivity, Rene was able to produce his first hesitant spray of fine droplets when he orgasmed. Two months later, the boy got his first pubic hair, a tiny golden filament, barely visible. That was the night that Matheus turned him. He explained that he knew it was wrong, that there were even some sort of vampire laws against it, but the old vampire couldn’t bear the thought of his beauty being lost to the ravages of puberty.

Rene didn’t quite understand it all. All he knew was fear when Matheus explained what he was doing, that Rene was going to die. He cried and begged, his protests becoming weaker and weaker as Matheus drained him, so much deeper than he ever had before. With his consciousness blinking out, his life like a tiny candle flame, near extinction, Matheus slit his own wrist with a golden razor and pressed the bloody offering to Rene’s lips. Weakly at first, barely able to work up the energy to even suckle at the sliced flesh, Rene felt the blood filling his mouth. Strength and energy began to flow through him. His arms lifted, gripping Matheus’ forearm, holding it tight as his mouth drew more and more of the invigorating elixir into his mouth.

Afterwards he shook, wracked with cramps and fever. He sat on the toilet with a bucket in his lap, Matheus stroking his back, whispering his love for him. The old vampire explained that he was dying, that his body was expelling all the unneeded fluids and solids that he required as a human, but had no need of as a vampire. Rene remembered little of it, just the pain and misery. Afterwards, Matheus cleaned his body lovingly, then lay him down to sleep.

Undeath was a revelation. It was so much more and so much less than he’d expected. He was disappointed to find that he couldn’t turn into a bat, or a mist. He couldn’t fly or call wolves to fight for him. On the other hand, the young boy had never known that the world could be so bright, so vibrant, so magical. It was like seeing for the first time. When Matheus took him outside finally, Rene began to cry. Not because of the long denied freedom, but because of the unearthly beauty he saw all around him. It was nighttime of course, but Rene could see everything as if it were full daylight. No, even more than that. The night was alive with swirling motes of color. Every growing thing glowed with an inner light. Trees were full of a golden glow, flowers a riot of neon colors. Even the grass shone with emerald, pulsing light. And the people! People were like fireworks, alive with sound and fury, the blood which flowed through them like rivers of crimson radiance.

Matheus showed Rene how to feed. Clumsily at first, nearly killing the young co-ed Matheus had chosen for him, unable to stop drinking in the glorious ruby river until Matheus thrust him away from her, tiny teeth wet with her blood, his penis achingly hard in his pants, filled with the life of her. After that he was more careful, learning how to care for the humans he fed from, how to close their wounds with his tongue.

Matheus began to teach him how to use his burgeoning vampiric powers to glamour them, although in that he was even more clumsy. Matheus assured him it would come with time. The trick, he said, was to empty his mind. That was so difficult for him as his mind was constantly racing from one subject to the next. Outside, he wanted to explore everything, inside, he wanted sex, or blood, or both.

One evening Matheus brought home a young girl. Well, relatively young. She was seventeen, so much older than Rene, and she had a woman’s body. Matheus had already glamoured her, and she sat glassy-eyed before them.

“Your turn,” Matheus said.

“I still don’t get it,” Rene said. He’d already fed off the girl and he sat there naked, body pink and flush with her blood, his small penis stiff and aching between his legs. Matheus had allowed him to have sex with several girls by this time, and Rene had come to crave the sensation of a woman’s pussy wrapped around his young cock. That’s all he could think of at that moment.

“Lean in close,” Matheus instructed, “so you can catch her gaze.” Rene did so. She had soft brown eyes. “Now just let everything go,” Matheus said softly, his strange accent making music of the words, almost hypnotic even without the glamour, which he knew no longer worked on him now that he was a vampire himself.

“Let yourself be dead,” Matheus said. Rene tried, mentally pushing aside all thoughts of sex, of blood. His penis began to wilt. “Good,” Matheus said. “You feel it.” Rene nodded, his gaze never leaving the girl’s.

“You are empty,” Matheus continued softly. “A vacuum. Now you can pull her mind into yours.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Rene told her gently. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Good, good,” Matheus whispered. “Now tell her what she wants.”

Rene had seen it happen often enough to understand. “You want me,” the boy whispered. “You want to have sex with me so badly. I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.”

“So beautiful,” the girl mumbled.

“Here,” he said, leaning back, spreading his legs. His penis began to lift again in anticipation. “Put it in your mouth.”

The girl sank to her knees without a word, leaning forward. Rene gasped as he felt her take his penis into her mouth, felt it quickly reach its full length. She couldn’t suck nearly as well as Matheus, but knowing he had glamoured her, compelled her to do this thing, made up for the lack.

A few nights later, Matheus allowed him to glamour a girl his own age. They were cruising down the street in Matheus’ Rolls-Royce Wraith when they saw her walking from a tiny convenience store about three miles from their home. Rene got out of the car a block ahead around a corner. When he came up to her he pretended to be lost. He could tell right away that she liked him. Glamouring someone was always so much easier, Matheus had explained, when the person wanted something from you. He walked her around a corner, leading her to the car which sat idling in a dark alley.

They took her home, and she undressed for him. Rene was fascinated with her tiny breasts, and her lightly-haired little mound. She admitted she’d never seen a boy naked, other than her baby brother, who was only two. She was fascinated by his penis, and she didn’t hesitate when he asked her to suck him, learning quickly how not to hurt him. Not that he could really be hurt from a stray tooth scrape, but it was still an odd sensation he didn’t care for. Afterward, he fed from her tender neck as he deflowered her, then drank again from the blood that leaked out between her legs.

Matheus’ lessons were a constant. Each night the pair would stalk the streets, the old vampire teaching him about the world around him and how to be a denizen of the night. He learned to hide in plain sight, learned how to use his beauty to lure men and women who craved that beauty to him. Matheus had to glamour them sometimes, but slowly and surely he got better. Rene learned about the power of a human’s home, how he had to be invited, how his powers were greatly diminished within. He learned about vampire society, about the rules that governed them, and their history in the world.

Rene had never been happier.

But then it ended. Eight months after being ushered into undeath, Matheus came to him with something in his eyes young Rene had never seen there before. Fear. They’d found out about him somehow, Matheus told him. Making a child vampire was forbidden. They all too often died quickly, unable to fend for themselves. Rene was anathema, an abomination, and both their lives were forfeit.

Matheus quickly made plans to leave New Orleans. They would leave the following night, by train. It had all been arranged. However, New Orleans had become Rene’s home, and he wanted one last night to explore its dark charms. Matheus left to get them one last meal, allowing Rene to take the opportunity to go out for his own last night in the Big Easy. When he returned two hours later, Matheus’ home, a beautiful mansion in the French Quarter, was engulfed in flame. Rene watched from across the street, his eyes watching the milling humans, the firemen, the police, and interspersed among them, their nature invisible to those around them, were the vampires.

Rene knew them at once. To Rene’s vampiric eyes, Matheus glowed with pulsing purple and blue lights. It was sort of like a lava lamp, he always thought, amorphous blobs of bruised light, pulsing with beauty and power. So unlike the riotous reds of a human. In the crowd that night were three such purple and blue pulsing figures, and Rene knew that his friend, his lover, his maker, was gone.

He fled the city. It wasn’t difficult to find a trucker to pick him up on the side of the road, the man pretending concern, and even feeling some to be fair, but burning inside with lust for him. Rene left him half-drained and dazed in a truck stop in Shreveport. Another ride, this time from a concerned old woman on her way home from church services, took him into Bon Temps, the home he hadn’t seen in over a year.

It was late when he arrived at his parent’s house. After eleven. The lights were out, and Rene wanted nothing more than to bang on the front door and call out to his family, but something, some learned wariness, stayed his hand. Instead, he went to the fake rock in the front flowerbed and removed the extra house key he knew would be there. He quietly unlocked the door, but was shocked moments later.

He couldn’t enter. It was his own house, and he was a stranger to the energies that kept his kind out. He pressed against what seemed an invisible barrier, the door standing wide open, but he couldn’t progress even an inch inside. He sobbed with frustration and despair. Finally, he went to his old bedroom window. Looking inside, he saw that the room was changed. Gone were the bunk beds, and now his little brother slept alone in a single bed. He tapped lightly on the window, more and more insistently, until his little brother Julian finally woke, his hair a blond, glowing halo to his vision.

The nine-year-old’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his big brother, and he raced to the window, throwing it open. Rene couldn’t believe how much the boy had grown, and the sight saddened him.

“Rene!” the boy practically shouted, and Rene hurriedly shushed him with a worried glance along the house toward his parent’s room.

“Julian, you have to let me in, okay? But don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“But why not?” the little boy asked. “They miss you like crazy! We were on the news and everything! Everybody thinks you’re dead!”

“Shhh,” he said softly to his little brother. “I’ll explain, but just come and let me in, okay? Quietly.”

Julian rushed out of his room, and Rene met him at the front door. Julian stood there in red-trimmed Iron Man briefs, looking confused to see the front door standing wide open. “Why didn’t you come in?” he asked.

“Just please ask me to come in,” Rene said, reaching out to test the barrier again. His fingers splayed as they pressed against the invisible force.

Face twisting in confusion, he shrugged his tiny shoulders and said, “Come in then.”

As if by magic, the barrier was gone, and Rene could enter the house. He followed his baby brother to the room they’d once shared, and he settled himself on the bed. The room smelled so strongly of his brother. As Julian sat beside him, he began to pepper him with whispered questions. Rene found himself lost in the strong beat of his brother’s heartbeat. He was fascinated with the rapid pulse which jumped in the side of his smooth, graceful young neck. The riot of crimson and fiery reds which made up his brother’s aura sang to him, and he began to feel the hunger. He hadn’t fed that day, not feeling right about feeding on the old woman, and he felt the gnawing inside him. Julian smelled of Johnson’s Baby Shampoo from his bath, and Rene found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss that smooth neck, to feel that rapid little pulse against his lips. Or perhaps to work his way downward, over the smooth stomach, to slide off Julian’s little briefs, to nuzzle his tiny penis, before burying his fangs in the boy’s upper thigh, deep into the femoral artery.

In horror, Rene realized that he had leaned forward, his head snaking toward his baby brother’s neck. If he’d had a heartbeat, it would have been racing in alarm. In a split second, almost too fast for a human’s eyes to track, Rene had his back against the wall across the room. Julian stared at him in alarm.

That’s when Rene did the hardest thing he’d ever done in his thirteen years. He gazed deep into the innocent blue eyes of his little brother, and he emptied his mind, emptier than the black fathomless reaches of space, emptier than he had ever been before. He made Julian forget all about seeing him. Convinced him that his visit was nothing more than a dream, and then he urged him to sleep. Rene took a look in at his parents, but all he saw were glowing cardinal flames and he fled his home, crying tears of blood.

Time began to lose all meaning. His life was a blur. Lost in a haze of grief for both of the lives he’d lost, he wandered aimlessly, going from town to town, sleeping wherever he could find a refuge from the sun, in sewers, abandoned grain mills, the basements of empty houses. He fed from the lost and disenfranchised, the dregs. Homeless men and women, criminals, predators. He became a near feral thing, his clothing disintegrating on him until he was clad in nothing but rags, and then in nothing at all, wandering naked through the night, filthy with encrusted dirt and dried blood; a horrid, pale apparition haunting the night, nearly mindless except for the need for blood and shelter from the cruel sun.

Eventually he found himself in Shreveport, feeding from gang members, drug runners, the evil and corrupt. He fed their bodies to the river and lakes, leaving them for the fish and alligators who disguised the fang punctures he’d grown too bestial to hide.

Rene didn’t think about his life. He didn’t think about art and history or marvel at the beauty of the world. He thought, if coherent thought came to him, about blood, about his next meal. He became more and more indiscriminate about who he fed from, and there was no glamour anymore. He attacked and fed, and when he could drink no more he ripped out their throats, or throttled them. As a child vampire, and newly made at that, he was much stronger than he’d been as a twelve-year-old boy, but he was nowhere near as strong as Matheus had been, who’d once crushed a rock in his hand by way of demonstration. Still, he was as strong as strongest of human men, and so was usually more than a match for his victims. Some fought him, desperate to live, to ward off the nightmarish little monster, but his injuries healed quickly, and he rarely lost a battle.

Rarely. Sometimes though, a victim would get away, would fight him and flee. And so word began to spread. Whispers about a pale, naked demonic child that stalked the nights, hungry for blood. Eventually those whispers found certain ears, and then the vampires came.

Rene saw them immediately. A wild thing, living wholly on instinct, the older vampires had no chance of detecting him first. Rene stared at their glowing purplish auras as they hunted along the river, lying in wait for him. All the memories of New Orleans came flooding back to him, of Matheus, of his gentleness and caring, of the beauty of making love with him, of the wonders he’d shown him of his new vampiric world. And the memories of how those bruised purple beings had taken it all away from him.

Rene wanted to attack them, to rip them apart, to bury his fangs into them and taste their rich, exotic blood. He could sense their power though. Even from a distance it flowed off them in waves, and little Rene knew he was no match for these elder bloodsuckers. So he did the only thing he could do; he fled.

As his senses returned to him, a perception of his humanity if you will, he became aware of his physical state. He hadn’t bathed since fleeing New Orleans, and he was layered in filth. Dirt, blood, offal, refuse. It coated him. His once golden hair was a tangled mat of black and brown grime. He even had mold growing on him. Running south, his legs a blur, as fast as a speeding car, he slowed in a small town south of the city. Two in the morning, the sleepy little suburb dark and silent. His feet were bleeding from the abuse, but they healed almost as soon as he stopped running.

Walking naked down quiet tree-lined streets, Rene could sense the lives within the homes he passed. Even through walls he could see the dim red auras of the humans sleeping within. Eventually he found a home without any auras. The accumulation of local newspapers in the driveway, as well as the stuffed mailbox, told the boy that the occupants had been gone for some time and were unlikely to come home this late at night.

Rene easily hopped the wooden privacy fence into the backyard. He was thrilled to see the doggy door which led into the kitchen, and his small body was easily able to squeeze through it. A home would repel him if there were people home. It was like the house became suffused with a portion of their life-force, and when they were within it activated a barrier of sorts. With nobody home, there was no one to activate that energy, which was still there, but dormant. It was something Rene could actually feel, but again, it didn’t bar him without the homeowner’s recent presence to trigger it, and the fact that they had been gone for some time made it even weaker.

Without the need for lights, Rene made his way into the master bath, and for the first time in he didn’t know how long, he showered. He took his time, scrubbing the grime and filth from his body, making sure he cleaned every inch of himself, going through three washcloths and a good portion of the body wash he found. He sat on the floor of the spacious walk-in shower, the hot water beating on his back as he carefully cleaned his hair, nearly strand by strand, cleaning and combing with his fingers, unraveling the numerous knots and tangles. The filth slowly sloughed off him.

An hour passed before he was satisfied that he was fully clean, the water long gone cold, but the temperature didn’t bother him. His body was impervious to the extremes of hot or cold.

Still in darkness, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, he thought he might be even more pale than the last time he’d seen his reflection. His hair was the exact same length it had been when he’d died. He carefully ran a comb through it, working out the last of the tangles, then used a brush, water dripping down over his bare shoulders. He dried himself once again, and then searched the house.

Rene was excited at first to discover that the people who owned the house had a son, but a quick look through the boy’s drawers revealed that he must be about his brother’s age. Or his brother’s age the last time he’d seen him. He wondered briefly how old his brother would be now. Thinking about it, he realized he didn’t even know how old he was. Then it really hit him for the first time. He wouldn’t age. He wouldn’t grown any older. His body wouldn’t mature. He wouldn’t get pubic hair, or a big dick. In fact, his body wouldn’t change at all. The rules against making a child vampire began to make more sense to him.

Returning to the bathroom, he stood staring at himself in the mirror for a long time. Lost in the knowledge that he would always be a beautiful little boy. Suddenly he felt a burst of anger and his fist shot forward, shattering the mirror. He looked at his knuckles, sliced open and sluggishly dripping blood. Then he watched as the wound quickly knit itself shut. He licked at the bit of blood there, then returned to the boy’s room.

Everything was much too small. He tried to struggle into a pair of the boy’s underwear, but they were tight around his thighs before he could even get near his dangling penis. He crumpled them and stuffed them back in the drawer, frustrated. The pants were no better. Shorts wouldn’t fit. Eventually he found his way to the master bedroom, but that was little help either. The man’s clothes were all ridiculously large on him. He’d have needed a belt just to hold up the underwear, and the man’s t-shirts hung to his knees.

Finally he found a t-shirt in the woman’s closet that wasn’t too big for him. It was pink and said ‘Versace’ in yellow, but at least it mostly fit, the hem just brushing against the root of his pale dick. He found no money, though there was lots of jewelry. Rene had no idea if it was good stuff or just cheap costume jewelry, and he knew there was no way he could pawn it in any case, so he left it all.

Leaving the house in his pink t-shirt, dick dangling and pale ass flexing as he walked, he went in search of something to wear. Sneaking through the quiet neighborhood, he peeked into windows, checked lawns and garages for signs. The closer he got to the crimson aura of a human, the better he was able to approximate size and age. He found several homes which had sleeping kids, but they were all either too young or too old to provide him with what he needed.

Eventually he came to a modest ranch house, with a pickup and an SUV in the drive. By the front door was a boy’s bicycle, yellow with black details, a bit beaten up and leaning against a hedge. Rene crept along the side of the house, finding two adults in one room. He hopped over a fence into the backyard, happy this time to find no signs of dogs. Dogs could sense vampires, and didn’t seem to care for them much. Over the fence again to the other side of the house, and there, through a bedroom window, he found a boy about his own age. Or the age he’d been when he died. He realized he didn’t even know what month or year it was.

Rene carefully removed the screen. The window was thankfully one of the lift type, rather than the crank kind common in the south. Then Rene just stared at the boy, unsure of how to proceed. The boy was covered to his waist in a pale blue sheet, and his shaggy chestnut hair spread over his pillow. Rene watched the soft rise and fall of his breathing and stared at the swirling crimson aura, so vital and healthy.

Eventually, he tapped at the window. Louder and louder, until the boy jerked. He rolled, startled brown eyes wide. He was a pretty boy, maybe thirteen, Rene guessed. The little vampire adopted a scared face, pleading in his eyes, and motioned to the boy. The kid warily rose to his feet, dressed in a pair of black boxer-briefs.

“What?” the boy asked hesitantly, voice soft and muffled by the glass, but clear to Rene’s heightened senses. “Who are you?”

“Please,” Rene begged, glancing over his shoulder as if in fear. He turned pleading eyes back to the boy. “Can I please come in? He’s after me!”

“Who is?” the boy asked, cautiously walking closer, looking past Rene to the house next door.

“I don’t know,” Rene said. “A man. He kidnapped me. I just got away. Please can I come in?”

The boy looked behind him, obviously thinking of his parents sleeping nearby. Rene interjected, wanting to avoid the boy going to get them. “Please, just for a minute? He’s gonna find me any second!”

Looking torn, the boy turned back to Rene and opened the window and motioned him inside. The smell of the boy nearly overwhelmed the little vampire. Boyish musk and sweet, sweet blood. “Hurry up. We’ll call the police, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” Rene said as he squirmed through the window.

The boy then noticed that he was naked from the waist down, his eyes locked on Rene’s little penis. “Why-?” he began to asked, but quick as a striking snake, Rene clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth, his other on the back of his head, and pushed him back toward the bed.

The boy was a bit taller than Rene, about five-foot-one, but he was no match for Rene’s preternatural strength, and his eyes grew wide in fear and confusion as Rene pushed him down onto the bed and crawled up to crouch over him. The boy gave a muffled cry and tried to struggle, but it was pointless.

Rene stared into the boy’s eyes, concentrating. He tried to empty his mind, to become a vacuum, but the kid continued to struggle and whine, staring up at him in fear. Rene put everything he had into emptying himself, but his mind was too undisciplined, and he got nowhere at all. It had been too long since he’d attempted to glamour a human.

Worse, he was distracted by the smell of the boy. Lost in his wildness, feeding on dirty homeless and drug-addled criminals, Rene had forgotten about the sweet perfume of a young, healthy person. Leaning close, sniffing, Rene realized he’d never fed on a boy. A girl, yes, but never a boy. There was a wild muskiness coming from the young teen that aroused his senses, and crouched over the boy, he felt the tip of his penis brushing against the boy’s stomach.

Rene tried once more to force his will upon the boy, but his lack of practice coupled with the strong life-force of the house which protected the family made it impossible. Knowing there was no help for it, Rene said softly to the boy, “I’m sorry,” and then his fangs slid into place and he bent to the boy’s neck.

There was a boyish gasp, muffled by his hand, and then the ambrosial rush of young blood into his mouth. Rene was nearly overwhelmed, swooning as the sweet crimson flow filled him. His heart gave a surprised thump, then raced into action, beating rapidly, speeding the blood throughout his body. The smell of the boy in his nostrils led to his penis stiffening, and he pushed it against the boy’s stomach, feeling the sensation of a sexual thrill race through him as he realized he hadn’t had sex since leaving New Orleans.

Beneath him, the boy was moaning, and not just from the blood loss. Rene was very familiar with the sexual thrill of a vampire bite. He reached down between his own legs, past his rigid erection, and found the boy’s straining hard-on stretching his underwear. He stroked it, and the boy moaned louder.

For a moment, Rene was overcome with the urge to rip out the boy’s throat, to leave him drained and dying in his bed, but he forced the urge away. He had no desire to hurt the boy. In fact, his desires lay in an entirely different direction. He summoned the will to retract his fangs, mildly surprised when they obeyed him, and he lapped gently at the boy’s neck, the enzymes in his saliva clotting and closing the wound. Rene knew that there would be a small bruise, and the boy would be a bit tender there, but there would be no sign of puncture marks. If he gave the boy some of his blood, even the bruise would heal immediately.

Giving the boy some blood was what he had in mind, as he continued to caress the kid’s young boner. In his weakened state, half enthralled by the euphoria of the bite, the boy made no move to resist or even move as Rene slid downward, off the boy and the bed until he was kneeling between the boy’s legs.

Rene reached up and took hold of the kid’s briefs, skinning them downward, careful to lift them over the straining erection. The boy didn’t resist as his underwear slid down his legs and off his feet. Rene reached out and gripped the boy’s young cock, fascinated. It was larger than his own, but nowhere near as large as the adult cocks he’d been used to handling. It wasn’t quite five inches long, and only a bit thicker than his own. He was circumcised, the head wide and flaring, glowing red to Rene’s sight. His testicles were the size of ping-pong balls, his scrotum covered in sparse, silky hairs. At the base of his cock, a small spray of brown hairs. Rene felt a hint of jealousy, but he pushed it away.

Rene leaned forward and rasped his small tongue up along the length of the boy’s straining cock. The boy moaned. Holding the small balls, Rene traced his way upward, eventually taking the tip of the boy’s penis into his mouth. He suckled at the spongy head, loving the heat of it. He could feel the blood just beneath the surface, pounding, racing, but he had no desire to bite into it. Instead he swallowed it, easily taking the boy all the way into his throat, until his lips were pressed against the silky-haired base. Rene had learned long ago how to take much larger cocks than this into his throat.

“What are you doing?” the boy gasped, moaning. His hands drifted downward, caressing Rene’s still-damp hair. His slender hips began to work, driving himself into Rene’s eager mouth, his young cock throbbing desperately. Rene reached out to caress the boy’s body, allowing the kid to do all the work, pistoning his cock in and out of Rene’s receptive mouth.

It was over in minutes. The boy gasped, shuddered, and suddenly Rene’s mouth was filled with an entirely different life-giving liquid. He drank it in eagerly, surprised at how thin and watery it was, but also shocked at the sweetness of it. Almost like blood.

Matheus had explained that vampires could also feed off of cum. A lot more was needed to sustain a vampire, but there were vampires in the world who fed on nothing else, their nights filled with the drinking of cum. Matheus said it was nice, but too much work. This boy’s cum affected him like no other he’d ever encountered, singing through his body, making his small cock ache.

Rene finally released the boy’s cock, still mostly hard and shining with his spit, the thinnest amount of blood mixed in, as it was with all his bodily fluids. He glanced down at himself, saw his rigid penis staring up at him. Crawling back up to crouch over the boy, Rene let his fangs slide forth again. The boy saw them and his eyes widened in fear. Bringing a finger to his mouth, Rene pierced it, his tiny sharp fang puncturing the skin until a single ruby drop hovered there. Then Rene pushed his finger into the startled boy’s mouth.

He held it there, while the boy stared up at him, shocked. Then, after a moment, the brown eyes rolled back. The boy’s whole body stiffened, and beneath Rene’s bare ass, he felt the sudden resurgence of the boy’s young erection as it pressed against his hanging scrotum. Rene leaned down and let his lips lightly caress the other boy’s, who’s eyes rolled back to stare at him.

Once again, Rene emptied his mind, remembering his lessons, and blurry from the bite, and filled with a drop of his blood, this time he watched as the boy’s eyes glazed over, fully glamoured. Rene smiled in satisfaction. “What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Michael,” the boy responded a bit dreamily. “Michael Underwood.”

“How old are you, Michael?”

“Thirteen.” Then, “And a half.”

“What’s the date?” Rene asked.

“August seventeenth,” the boy said. Then continued, “I think it might be the eighteenth now, since it’s late.”

“What year?” Rene pressed.

The boy didn’t think the question at all odd, and he said, “2015.”

Rene thought for a moment. A month short of two years. How had so much time passed? He’d be fifteen in just three months. He shook his head, knowing he could worry about all this later. Right now he had a willing and helpless boy, and an achingly hard dick.

“Did you like it when I sucked you?” Rene asked, and the boy nodded eagerly. “I’d like you to suck me now, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael answered, and Rene crawled off him. He turned around to lie the correct way on the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow under his head. It had been so long since he’d had a pillow. The smell of the boy was all over it. It made his dick throb.

Michael moved to lie beside Rene, his face near his crotch. A bit hesitantly, he reached out to take Rene’s slender young penis between his thumb and forefinger. He explored it carefully, looking fascinated. Then he leaned down and carefully slid his tongue up along the shaft. The heat of the boy, the wetness, his breath against him, brought back a flood of memory and sensation, which made Rene’s head spin. His mouth dropped open and he moaned as he felt the boy take him gently into his mouth, felt his soft lips close around him.

Rene felt his fangs slide into place. He was nearly helpless to prevent it when he was aroused. Michael was obviously sucking his first cock, but he was taking from the lessons of his own first blowjob minutes before, and learning quickly. He was able to take all of Rene’s meager length, his tongue poking out on each downward stroke to lap at his little balls. It had been so long that Rene felt himself nearly there after mere minutes. He didn’t want it to end like that however. He needed more.

“Stop,” he gasped. “Stop for a sec, Michael,” and the boy stopped, letting Rene’s stiff nail slip wetly from his mouth. Rene looked around desperately, and spotted a bottle of Gold Bond lotion on the boy’s bedside table. The vampire wondered for a moment if the boy used it to masturbate, and wondered if his parents realized that he likely did.

“Give me the lotion,” he instructed insistently. Michael reached out and grabbed the bottle, handing it to him. Licking his lips in anticipation, Rene squirted two pumps into his palm then reached out to slide his fist wetly over Michael’s straining erection. Nice and slick, he then reached between his legs, coating his asshole, sliding a greasy finger inside, worked it in and out.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, and Michael quickly complied. “Now lean down,” he said, until he could grab the boy’s cock. “Lower,” he said. “Lower.” And then he could brush the tip of the boy’s dick against his swollen hole. “Now push,” Rene said, gasping as the boy entered him.

“That’s it,” Rene moaned, reaching out to grip the boy’s ass. He pulled him down, feeling the full length of the teen’s cock filling him. Wrapping his skinny legs around the boy’s thighs, he gasped and said, “Fuck me, Michael.”

The thirteen-year-old needed no further prompting, instinct taking over as he began to drive himself into Rene, his balls slapping as he worked himself rapidly in and out, his breathing quickly growing harsh and ragged.

Rene felt the boy filling him again and again, the wonderful heat and friction sliding against his immature prostate, the fullness of a cock filling him again after all this time. Michael looked like a phoenix, shining brightly above him as he pumped up and down, grunting as he drove his cock into him. Rene reached down and gripped his cock, began jerking himself rapidly as Michael fucked him. He wondered how he’d ever gotten to a place where this kind of pleasure was forgotten.

Eventually the teen reached a ragged end, his breath heaving, his body shaking as he drove himself forward one last time. Rene felt his insides rippling as Michael filled his rectum with his hot boy juice, and the sensation drove him over the edge, his cock jerking spasmodically as thin streams of watery, bloody semen pumped out onto his hairless groin.

Michael fell down across him, exhausted, the bloody emission smearing across his belly. Rene easily pushed him onto his back, then straddled his chest, blood still dripping from his cock. He pushed his mostly hard member into the boy’s mouth, and Michael eagerly clamped his lips around him, sucking the last of his bloody offering. Then Rene had the boy clean all evidence of his cum from his groin before crawling down and similarly cleaning the bigger boy.

Sated finally, both with blood and magical teen cum, Rene let the boy go back to sleep while he raided his closet, picking out briefs and socks and jeans and shirts. A discarded backpack, obviously not used given the state of it and the presence of a much newer one on his dresser, allowed him to pack his new belongings away.

Leaning over the sleeping boy, he kissed him tenderly, then left him there like that, wondering if he’d think it had all been a dream. Wondering as well what his mom or dad might think if they came into his room in the morning and found him stretched out naked on his bed. Smiling at the thought, he exited the house and continued south.

End of part 2

Copyright 2024 – Rwxxx13
All rights reserved

A Passage Into Darkness – Part 1
By
Rwxxx13 (rwxxx13@yahoo.com)

Rene’s eyes snapped open as he became conscious. Blue eyes stared into the darkness, seeing nothing and everything, senses instantly awake. Over the musty odor of the small room, he could smell the jasmine from outside the house, as well as a gumbo from next door. At 7:30 on a Thursday night in May, the traffic had calmed from commuters heading home from work, but was just beginning to pick up again as people made their way out for an evening meal.

Rene heard music from the bars on Magazine Street, but two miles from the French Quarter, the music was more subdued. Nine blocks south, the wild smell of the Mississippi came to him as it flowed southward. Rene was hungry. Rene was almost always hungry.

Rising from the bare, stained mattress in the corner of what used to be a servants room, Rene stretched, more from habit than anything. At four-foot-ten he was small, but lithe, a slender thing who revealed hairless armpits as his arms lifted over his head. Settling his slim shoulders, he shook his head and ran fingers through his shoulder-length, pale yellow hair. He heard laughter from a passing car, and his head followed the sound as it faded into the distance.

The boy bent to pick his clothes up off the floor. He didn’t wear them to bed, believing that they stayed fresher longer if he didn’t. He slipped into dingy, once-white briefs, then stepped into tight, tattered bluejeans. An overlarge faded black Jurassic Park t-shirt hung well below his skinny waist, and he thrust bare feet into threadbare tennis shoes.

Going to the door, he unlocked the padlock, the dial spinning almost soundlessly in the darkness. Pulling the door open, he carefully snuck his left arm out around the concealing sheet of plaster-covered wood, gripping the wooden shelf which blocked it, then he pushed. He slid through the small crack, then pulled the door closed before carefully moving wall and shelf back into place. It wasn’t an expert job, but Rene thought it would pass a casual observation. All the water-swollen books and broken knickknacks on the shelf had been superglued so they wouldn’t rattle or fall when he moved it. If you didn’t know better, you probably wouldn’t suspect there was a room behind it.

All the windows in the house were boarded over, and had been even before Rene had found the place. He drifted silently down the hall, his eighty-some pounds barely making a sound on the rotting stairs as he left the third floor. As always, the smell of mold and mildew, wet and rot, hit him as an almost physical force, but Rene was used to the smell. Still in almost total darkness, Rene padded down the familiar hallways to the back of the house. Peeling wallpaper lined the walls. The house was dilapidated, but still, there was a certain grandeur, a faded opulence to the place, that Rene appreciated. To judge from the narrow, Greek Revival moldings, the decorative scrollwork and other architectural details, the place had once been a wonder.

In a back bedroom on the second floor, Rene pushed aside a board covering one of the windows. While all the other windows were nailed and boarded shut, the board covering this window was hung by an eyelet attached halfway along its length, and it swiveled easily. The glass was missing here, and with a quick peek outside, Rene dropped to the ground fifteen feet below. He landed in a crouch, listening, testing the air. The back of the house was surrounded by trees and overgrown bushes, but he always checked, just to make sure.

Then the small boy pushed his way agilely through the hedges into the yard of his unknowing neighbor before stepping out onto the sidewalk of Chestnut Street. Turning right, he walked by the front of what he considered his house, a bedraggled old pink and gray Greek Revival mansion on the corner of Chestnut and First Street in the Garden District of New Orleans.

Four blocks to the west brought Rene to the Lafayette Cemetery. The place closed at 2:30 on weekdays, but that had never stopped Rene. He easily made his way up and over the seven foot, whitewashed stone wall which surrounded the place. Then he meandered along the little lanes, looking at the crypts and mausoleums almost longingly. Sometimes people would come here. Kids mostly, some young adults, all looking for a bit of spooky fun. Rene mostly avoided them, and preferred being alone with his thoughts and the silence of the dead.

Tonight Rene was alone, but of course it was early yet, and fun-seeking trespassers usually didn’t appear until later, if they appeared at all. Rene’s tennis shoes slid over broken paving stones and clumps of struggling grass as he slipped silently down the lanes before stopping, as he most often did, before a particular crypt which always caught his attention. It was about a ten by ten block of white stone with a bit of decorative scrollwork on the top which announced itself to be for the ‘Society for the Relief of Destitute Orphan Boys’. It was dated 1894. Rene often thought about those boys, his small finger tracing their names in the stone, feeling a kinship to them. After all, wasn’t he a destitute orphan boy? After having looked up the word destitute in a dictionary, he decided he was. He wondered, not for the first time, if anyone would ever bother to give him such a nice burial place. He thought it was unlikely.

After an hour of wandering, alone with his dark thoughts, Rene exited the cemetery on the side opposite of where he’d entered and turned right along Prytania Street. Twenty minutes of casual walking brought him to Coliseum Square Park. It wasn’t much of a park, Rene figured. Skinny and about three blocks long, but it had a fountain, and some benches, and unlike other nearby parks, it wasn’t fenced, although it officially closed at 10:30pm. Across the street was the International School, but Rene never saw any kids there, except sometimes older kids who would jump the fence to play basketball.

Rene wasn’t there for the fountain though. Or the benches, or the few trees. Although this was the Garden District, the park attracted a seedier element, as evidenced by the numerous gang tags displayed on the available concrete walls around the place. It wasn’t just rowdy kids who frequented the place however. They mostly hung out on the weekends. Weekdays brought another group, those who still found a thrill meeting and searching each other out in the dark outdoors. Rene got his first nibble after sitting alone in the dark beneath a busted out lamp for only ten minutes.

The man was about forty, and he was leading a black and white border collie on a leash. In his front left pocket peeked a plastic grocery bag, which crinkled lightly as he walked. A poop bag, Rene knew. The man was wearing black jeans and a light jacket, though the temperature was still in the high seventies. Rene saw the man spot him, saw him switch paths to come closer to him. About fifty feet away, the dog paused, sniffing the air. The man tugged lightly on his leash, and the dog came on, but reluctantly.

“You’re out late,” the man said in a friendly tone when he was about twenty feet away. He had brown hair and brown eyes. He was developing a bit of a paunch, which stretched his blue Polo shirt. He made a show of looking around. “Are your parents with you?”

Rene shook his head and lifted his arms to the back of the bench. He shrugged. “I’m just takin’ a walk.”

“Me and Rusty are out for a walk ourselves, ain’t that right, boy?” he asked, but the dog stopped when they were fifteen feet away. “Come say hi, Rusty,” he urged, but the dog was staring at Rene and he began to whine.

“What’s got into you, hmm?” the man asked, kneeling down to pet the dog. He looked up at Rene and smiled. “He’s usually really friendly,” he said.

“He must smell my dog,” Rene said. “He’s a rottweiler.”

“Well, that probably explains it,” the man said. “I’m Kurt. What’s your name?”

“Rene,” the boy answered.

“What a cool name,” Kurt said. “How old are you, Rene?”

“Twelve,” the boy lied.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Kurt asked, moving closer. The small dog resisted, but came along, tail between his legs, whining. Kurt sat without waiting for an answer, and Rusty the dog moved as far away as the leash would allow.

“Do you live nearby?” Kurt asked.

Rene could smell the cigarettes on the man. He hated the smell of cigarettes. It was only partly masked by the smell of the man’s aftershave. Rene thought it might be Old Spice. “I live a few blocks away,” he answered.

“I like your hair,” Kurt said. “I had hair like yours when I was your age.”

“My dad keeps telling my mom to cut it,” Rene said.

“Well, don’t let her,” Kurt smiled. Then he swallowed visibly and said, “You could get her to buy you some new jeans though. Your knees are coming right out of these.” Then Kurt’s left hand slid down to touch Rene’s knee.

Rene didn’t move or say a word, and seemingly emboldened, Kurt first squeezed his knee, and then lightly caressed it.

“I bet you play sports,” Kurt said, voice a bit strained now. “You’ve got really strong legs.” His hand began to drift lightly up Rene’s right thigh.

“I play soccer,” Rene said. He spread his legs a little. “Center forward.”

“Wow, so you must be the best on the team,” Kurt said, and his hand drifted even higher, now caressing Rene’s inner thigh.

“Kurt,” the boy said, and the man snatched his hand away and met his eyes guiltily. Rene stared into the man’s eyes, his own blue eyes empty and fathomless. He gathered his will. He bit his lower lip, his gaze intent. Softly he said, “Higher.”

Gaze locked on his own, Kurt turned to face him fully. He dropped the leash, and Rusty, who’d been straining lightly, dashed away. Kurt’s right hand found Rene’s thigh, and quickly stroked upward until he was cupping the boy’s crotch.

Rene felt the man’s hand on his groin, squeezing his small genitals. He felt a flutter of excitement in his belly, but his penis didn’t respond. He was so hungry. “Do you live alone?” he asked.

“Yes,” Kurt answered.

“Let’s go to your house,” Rene said, and he rose to his feet.

Kurt didn’t say a word, just rose to his feet and began to walk off in the direction he’d come. After about a minute he slowed and looked around. “Rusty?” he asked in confusion.

“Let’s go to your house,” Rene repeated, and Kurt was once again walking a bit woodenly off to the north.

Five minutes later, Kurt led them to a nice house a couple of blocks from the park. It was a two-story place with a balcony over the front portico and four dormer windows. Kurt unlocked the front door and walked in without a word. Rene stopped at the threshold and called out, “Can I come in?”

Kurt turned to look at him. He seemed almost surprised to see him there. Then he licked his lips and said, “Please come in.”

Rene stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Kurt watched him, then looked around. “I… I think I forgot my dog,” he said.

“You said I could take a bath,” Rene said, distracting him.

“I… did?” Kurt asked. “I… of course. It’s upstairs. Can’t you take a bath at home?”

“Remember? The pipes are busted,” Rene said.

“Oh… right,” the man said, confused. They quickly arrived at the bathroom. Kurt looked at the boy nervously, then knelt by the large tub and said, “I’ll get the water. It’s tricky.”

“Thanks,” Rene said, pulling off his shirt. Kurt just stared, tub forgotten. Rene smiled and kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned his pants, then unzipped them. Without a word, he pushed them down and kicked them off, so that he was standing there in just his dingy, no longer tighty or whitey briefs.

Kurt continued to stare, eyes wide. Rene hooked his fingers into the stretched waistband of his briefs, then slowly pushed them downward. After sliding down over his ass, they slipped to the floor on their own. Kurt’s breathing was rapid now, a pulse beating in his neck as he stared at Rene’s small penis. He was circumcised, the little acorn head pale and nearly colorless. Soft, it was about three inches long, hanging over grape-sized testicles which were as hairless as the skin of the boy’s groin. His groin was pale, almost white. In fact, the boy’s entire body was just as pale.

“You’re so beautiful,” the man breathed. Then, still on his knees, he walked forward and pressed his face against Rene’s crotch, his arms wrapped around him and he clutched two small, perfect asscheeks.

Rene looked down as the man took his small penis into his mouth. It felt nice. So warm and slippery. He loved having his dick sucked. Kurt’s breath was hot against his hairless groin, his hands warm as he kneaded the flesh of his ass. Kurt made hungry, greedy sounds as he sucked, but after maybe two minutes, he pulled back, staring at the boy’s cock, confused.

Rene saw his little penis hanging limply, shiny with the man’s spit. He cupped a hand under Kurt’s chin, and once again met the man’s eyes. He stared, his mind intent. There was a silent battle of wills, and then Kurt’s eyes began to grow a bit hazy. Rene didn’t hesitate. He bent down quickly, feeling a wet sliding sensation in the roof of his mouth and then he was plunging his fangs into the man’s neck.

Kurt gasped as the little vampire’s teeth broke the skin and sank into his carotid. He felt the suction and heard the greedy sucking noises coming from the boy, but it was so hard to concentrate. He knew something was wrong, but the boy’s mouth felt so good.

Rene drank, feeling the man’s rich arterial blood spraying into his mouth. His body came alive, his heart stuttering to a start in his chest, then beating strongly, sending the energy-giving fluid throughout his body. Between his legs, his penis stiffened, growing to a straining four inches, the little helmet shaped head taking on a rosy shade.

After a few seconds the blood was no longer spraying into his mouth, and Rene clamped his lips against the skin of the man’s neck, sucking, allowing none to escape. Kurt moaned, and Rene forced himself to stop. He removed his fangs, but was too excited to retract them, then he began licking at the two small puncture wounds. Lick, lick, the blood slowing, then stopping. Rene licked some more, cleaning the last of the blood from the man’s neck. He then sank to his knees, then to his ass, his legs spread out before him, his cock twitching, his body singing.

Kurt swayed for a moment, then he too was sitting. Rene watched him, his breathing, the pulse beating sluggishly in his neck. Eventually awareness returned, and the boy could see the concentration in his eyes as they found his stiff little cock.

“I thought you wanted to suck me,” the boy teased, reaching down to slide his fingers over his pubescent erection.

“I do,” Kurt breathed, blinking tiredly. “Please,” he said.

Rene smiled and rose to his feet. Kurt struggled to his own knees, and once again took Rene’s penis into his mouth.

Rene felt his eyes fluttering and rolling back as the man began to suck him. Now the feeling was so much more intense than before. He felt the tingles racing through his body as Kurt’s tongue teased his cockhead, the suction against his thin shaft intense. The man’s mouth was moving up and down, taking all four inches of him again and again, lips sliding over that sensitive little bundle of flesh beneath the head, making the boy shiver. Rene felt he was practically glowing with the sensual energy racing through him.

“Gonna cum,” he gasped, not in warning, but just to himself. He felt his little balls begin to churn, felt the waves of pleasure shooting out from his groin, and then he was thrusting himself forward, his back arching as he shuddered, his penis shooting out a thin little stream of immature semen mixed liberally with blood, which Rene knew would replenish what fluids he’d taken from the man, energizing him as if he were twenty years younger. At least for a day or so.

With the man lost in what anyone would take for a drug-induced haze, Rene showered, enjoying the warm water dancing on his skin, the intensity of the sensation almost as good as the blowjob, but nowhere near as good as the feeding. He loved the smell of the man’s soap and shampoo, and he played games with his pale yellow hair, making spikes and mohawks and giggling happily. Rene didn’t shower very often. As a vampire, he didn’t sweat, and he didn’t go to the bathroom, so the only reason to shower was to get rid of the natural grime accumulated from being in the world.

Naked and dry from the big fluffy towel in the bathroom, Rene wandered through the house, poking curiously into drawers and closets. He was pleased and amused when he opened up the drawer of a dresser in the master bedroom closet and found a collection of boys underwear. Apparently the man collected them. They were all sized 10-12, and they had been laundered. Rene imagined the man used them to masturbate, but they smelled fresh and it was fairly obvious they’d never been worn. Rene picked out five pairs he really liked. One of them was red and yellow with the superhero Flash’s emblem over the crotch. He pulled them on, then admired himself in the mirror. He grew hard again at the image of himself, so pale and beautiful. Gathering his old briefs, he stuffed them into the drawer as a present for the man.

Kurt was still gazing glassy-eyed at the ceiling of the bathroom when Rene returned to continue dressing. Further searching had revealed no other boy-sized clothing, which Rene found disappointing but not surprising. Bending down, he rolled the man to his side and worked his wallet from his back pocket. Eighty-seven dollars. Rene took it all, knowing the man could afford it. Rene had little use for the money, as he didn’t eat or have bills, but it would buy him some new jeans, as his were a bit ratty. He’d been wearing the current ones for about three years. He had a gym bag of money back home, but he rarely thought about it, just stuffing in new money as he came across it. The man’s comment on the park bench had made him aware of the sorry shape of his jeans. He knew there was a WalMart down by the river he could visit at night without earning himself too many strange looks.

“Sleep tight,” Rene said, almost fondly, as he left the man and went downstairs. He made sure the front porch light was out, then he left the house. Rusty was on the sidewalk, but the dog bolted as soon as he saw him. It made Rene a bit sad. Dogs used to like him.

End of part 1

Copyright 2024 – Rwxxx13
All rights reserv