Gift of Fangs (Patreon)

This is something I've been sitting on for some time. It barely qualifies as porn TBH, it's like two lines at the end. Maybe I'll add a spicier part two sometime in the future.

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There is only one trail to and from the township of Prosper. It’s not a treacherous path, but it’s long and chilly and during the springtime unpleasantly damp.

David and Reyn had made the journey over the course of a week on a merchant caravan, earning their keep by fishing, hunting, and foraging as they traveled. The two of them were there on behalf of the slayer’s guild to investigate reports of mysterious disappearances.

Several of the guild’s finest agents had come here before and never returned, so the guild was now sending whatever expendable recruits it could coerce into going there under the logic that eventually one party would learn something through sheer attrition. 

Neither slayer was privy to this strategy.

Prosper was too large to be a village but too rural to be worth noting on most maps. The buildings were all archaic, but clearly finely constructed and carefully maintained even to the unskilled eyes of the visiting slayers.

Cobblestone streets were still slick with the cold midday rain, and the traders were uninterested in humoring the slayers any longer.

David, who considered himself the smarter of the two, pointed out a particularly official-looking building in the center of town. “I think that’s the town hall. Maybe someone there knows something?”

Reyn, who also considered himself the smarter of the two, shrugged. “Good a place as any, I guess. You should go look, I’m going to see about food and lodgings.”

Reyn pulled out one of the satchels of coins buried deep in his disorganized rucksack. They had enough funds to eat and sleep for a week, if they were frugal. 

He sighed at the little sack in his hands, already imagining the pathetic excuse for a bed he’d have to nest in while here.

David gave him a sharp look. “We shouldn’t split up. That’s like, rule number one of being a slayer. Rule number zero, even.”

Reyn rolled his eyes. “We’re in the middle of town in broad daylight. I’m going shopping and you’re going to annoy a secretary. We’ll manage. Meet me back here in an hour.”

David didn’t vocally protest but skulked off in a huff. Reyn shrugged again and began searching for either a general store, an inn, or somewhere to grab something to eat that was only marginally inedible.

After bumbling into two unhelpful stores, he managed to bumble into a grocer’s. 

Despite it being early afternoon, the store itself was dimly lit and only seemed to have one other customer, who was inspecting several glass jars of preserved fruits and honey.

“Uh, hello, do you know where the owner is?” Reyn asked the stranger.

“He’s ill,” the other man said flatly, not looking up. “Allergies, you know. Nasty this time of year.”

“Fine, uh, do you know if there’s an inn or something nearby? My…partner and I are staying for a few days.”

The man turned, his face lighting up. Even in the gloom his black-on-white vestments gave him a sharp, smooth look. “Guests? How lovely. The patrician is always happy to meet new guests. You simply must stay with him; he gets so lonely in his estate.”

Reyn found the sudden enthusiasm slightly more off-putting than the disdain had been. “I’m not so sure about that…I would hate to impose.” Reyn said softly, suddenly very interested in the selection of cured meats at the front of the store.

“Nonsense,” the man scoffed lightly. “Lord Solomon absolutely loves having guests for supper.”

Reyn would’ve found it less creepy if ‘guests for supper’ had been ominously phrased. “And your relationship to him is what, exactly?”

“I am merely a humble servant,” the man said, bowing slightly but not breaking eye contact, “You may call me Ozzy. Everyone does, at least.”

“Right. Ozzy. Thanks for—“

“And your name?” Ozzy interrupted, his soft voice laced with intense sincerity.

“Reyn. My partner’s name is David.” Reyn supplied automatically.

“Lovely,” Ozzy hummed, turning back to the display of jam jars. “You will be at the estate at six p.m. sharp. Do not be late.”

“Right, about that—“ Reyn began.

“I think you should inform your partner of the patrician’s invitation, Reyn Tencopper. Do not be late.” Ozzy said, still facing away.

Despite the pleasant neutrality of his tone he radiated a palpable aura of impatience. Reyn unthinkingly bolted from the store without another word.

David was waiting on the street they had separated on, scowling at nothing and then at Reyn. “Where the hell have you been?” He asked theatrically. “I’ve been waiting here since ten!”

“I was only gone for like, thirty minutes at most,” Reyn countered. “I found a grocery but it was empty.”

“Did you at least grab something? We can go back and pay later.” David asked, though he was not expecting a positive answer.

“Er, not exactly. Some guy, a butler or something, invited us to stay with the patrician. Did you find out anything about him? I didn’t know this place had any blue-bloods.”

David shrugged. “As far as I can tell he manages things but almost never leaves his old mansion. He lives alone except for a butler, I’d guess the same guy you ran into, and sends that guy to deliver inquiries back and forth.”

“Anything about a monster? Anything supernatural at all? Or was it just a history lesson?” Reyn asked.

“I’m getting to that, yeesh. Okay so the town records don’t have any reports of disappearances. Actually, this is the weird part; the archives track attendance to things, how people vote on issues, all that. But every once in a while someone new shows up.”

“People have children, David,” Reyn snapped. “Of course new people show up sometimes.”

“That’s the weird bit. There are family trees, too, the town isn’t that big. But there are no kids being born here. These new people don’t have any family members at all. Have you seen any children today?”

“I guess not,” Reyn admitted, though it was eminently plausible that he had simply not paid attention. “What’s that got to do with a monster, though?”

“Well, I would have to see them in person to know for sure, but the timelines of new people showing up and the guild sending the slayers before us line up really well. It’d solve one mystery, at least.”

“What could be so nice about this little mudhole to make it worth cutting ties with everyone else?” Reyn asked half-rhetorically.

“No clue,” David shrugged, “but if that’s actually what’s going on we need proof before we can report back to the guild. Do you think Lord Solomon will be mad if we turn up before six?”

“What? No way, he’s totally a vampire,” Reyn said, crossing his arms. “Reclusive old patrician living in a big estate in the hinterlands? Definitely a vampire. All the slayers probably got sucked dry.”

“We still need proof,” David said. “If we can prove there’s a vampire, we’ll be heroes.”

“We’ll be bigger heroes if we slay the vampire first,” Reyn said, pivoting.

“You just said you didn’t want to go there,” David said.

“I don’t want to go in there through the front door. I think we should sneak in.” Reyn said enthusiastically.

“Sneaking in” was surprisingly easy. The old mansion was surrounded on the left and right by thick forest, which provided ample hiding spaces. David located a servant’s door leading into the cellar.

David went first. In one hand he held a silver dagger, and in the other a glowing vial of luminous algae that served as a waterproof torch.

Reyn had a crossbow loaded with wooden bolts, and a similar jar of glowing slime shuttered to provide a cone of light.

The cellar was lined with preserved goods, stacks and stacks of pickled vegetables and cured meats, and a log that had been hollowed out to grow flat, wide mushrooms.

“Why would a vampire need all this food?” David asked, picking up a jar of pickled carrots.

“Camouflage, maybe?” Reyn posited. “It would be mighty suspicious if you didn’t, don’t you think? Everyone needs food.”

David put the jar back down next to a salted cut of a large fish. “It doesn’t matter. The existence of food here doesn’t tell us anything about who lives here.”

“It tells us that they don’t get out much,” Reyn said. “See how it’s all preserved? No fresh food at all except for the mushrooms grown here. It’s all meant to last, so you could stay for months without needing to leave.”

David nodded. “We should move. If this is the cellar maybe there’s a kitchen nearby. That might give us a clue.”

The kitchen was nearly next door, in fact, only separated from the cellar by an icy freezer room containing yet more food. It was brightly lit by a series of incandescent electric lights, which was a very recent invention and therefore ludicrously expensive.

“Why would a vampire want such bright lights?” Reyn asked. “Don’t they hate that?”

“There’s more than one type of vampire,” said Ozzy, suddenly behind the two of them.

Reyn jumped, firing his crossbow into a metal pan, punching a hole through it.

“You two are quite early,” continued Ozzy, ignoring the ruined cookware. “Lord Solomon wasn’t expecting you so soon. But please, make yourselves at home.”

“How did you know we were here?” David asked, visibly shaking.

“You rearranged the cellar’s inventory,” Ozzy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If, for whatever reason, you were trying to avoid detection, that’s a rather sloppy mistake.”

“What’s your fucking deal, man?” Reyn asked. He poked his crossbow at Ozzy’s chest, which would have been more threatening if it was loaded.

“I am a humble servant here to quell some particularly rowdy guests. Lord Solomon needs peace and quiet to work.”

“Who is lord Solomon?” David asked. “What does he do?”

Ozzy’s expression became radiant. “He’s a genius, of course. An expert in both artifice and architecture. He designed this whole estate some years ago, after the original tragically burned down.”

“But why is he so secretive? Does he just send you out to do all of his business?”

“Of course,” Ozzy said proudly. “A polymath such as himself should not debase himself with such mundanity.”

“But you should?” Asked Reyn.

“Yes, well, someone must,” Ozzy replied somewhat sheepishly. “I am doubly in his debt, as I both cared for the Solomon estate for many years and was a victim of its conflagration. It is the least I can do for him.”

“You don’t look very dead, no offense,” Reyn said.

“No, I was thankfully not seriously burned, but my left arm was cut off by a falling piece of the building. Lord Solomon constructed a replacement.”

Reyn and David exchanged a look that said “why would a vampire do that?”

“But enough about me,” Ozzy said with a smile. “Perhaps you should speak to the young lord yourselves. It would give me a chance to finish preparing supper.”

Ozzy directed them to the workshop before either could work up the nerve to protest.

David knocked on the heavy wooden door, which seemed heavily set into the wall.

“It’s open,” came a voice.

David and Reyn stepped into the room, which was also unnaturally brightly lit. Lord Solomon was hunched over a vast table covered in wooden boxes and scattered papers, turned away from the slayers.

The man himself looked pallid and angular, with a bald head and a heavy black coat that obscured most of his form. If he wasn’t so hunched over, he would probably be half a head taller than David or Reyn.

“You must be the new guests,” Lord Solomon said in a polite manner that suggested zero surprise. He didn’t turn around as he spoke. “Ozzy told me you would be staying with us.”

“We’re looking for some disappeared persons,” said David quickly, earning a shocked look from Reyn.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Solomon said, picking up a box and setting it down on the edge of the table. It had a wheel set into one side, which Solomon spun absentmindedly. “Prosper is hardly someplace people go missing in. Ozzy and I keep things very safe.”

“Not just anyone,” David continued. “Slayers. Monster hunters. Some of our best people came here and never came back.”

“‘Our’ best people,” Solomon echoed flatly, his shoulders squaring. “You are also monster hunters, then?”

David said nothing. The change in atmosphere made Reyn want to run for his life.

“I don’t have any clue where your coworkers have gone,” Solomon said, tension abating. “There are no monster hunters in Prosper, and nothing for them to hunt, unless you want venison.”

“They can’t have just vanished,” David argued. “They had to go somewhere. Something had to have happened to them.”

“I really can’t help you,” said Solomon. “Prosper is a nice place to live. Maybe they just wanted somewhere safe and quiet to settle down. Start a family, raise kids, you know.”

“There are no kids,” said David. “None in the records, at least.”

Solomon laughed. “Very observant. You’re not wrong. No children. Prosper only grows through immigration.”

Reyn, who had been standing in terrified silence, suddenly sprang to life. He pulled out his own dagger and threw it parallel to the back of Solomon’s head, digging into the wall behind him. “You do know something’s up!” He shouted.

Solomon grabbed the knife and set it on the table. “I’m not stupid,” he said. “Of course something’s up. But it’s none of your concern. Your friends are safe. They’re comfortable and happy. Tell the general that you don’t need to keep looking.”

“Then tell us what’s going on!” Reyn shouted.

“I… I can’t. It’s not for you to know.”

“What on earth does that mean?” David asked.

“Your people… they came here of their own free will.” Solomon said. “There’s no trap, no monster, nothing keeping them here. Your slayers aren’t the only ones coming here to settle down. They just want to be left alone.”

“That’s not acceptable,” Reyn asked. “We’re not leaving without our comrades.”

“Then I’m afraid you won’t be leaving,” Solomon said.

Reyn and David advanced on the man, but both were stopped by a hand grabbing them by the collar.

“You are not behaving as guests should, little slayers,” Ozzy said, dragging them back into the hallway before either could even react.

Lord Solomon stepped out to follow, and looked down at the slayers. His angular face was twisted into a slight sneer. “Sloppy form,” he said. “Made yourselves too obvious.”

Reyn looked up and recognized the patrician as Captain Basil of the slayers, who had gone missing over two years ago. “Captain Basil!” He said. “Help us, please!”

Basil laughed sadly and Ozzy dropped the junior slayers to the carpeted floor. “You don’t need my help. And it’s just Basil, now. I have a new life.”

“But everyone’s worried sick about you!” Said Reyn, getting up. “You just… disappeared.”

“Yeah, and you found me. Don’t go telling everyone, now, okay? Last thing I need is the little vigilante club tearing this nice place up.“

“But why? Why here? Why not tell anyone?” Reyn asked.

“Because I wanted my privacy. I wanted some place quiet and remote where I could be myself. Do you realize how hard monster hunting, real monster hunting is .”

“But why-“

“Cause I’m gay, you motherfucker! I’m gay and Shrike’s gay and everyone here is gay and we don’t need anyone trying to stone us to death for that.”

“Commander Shrike’s gay?” David asked. “But didn’t you-“

“We lied. Good lord you two really are dense.”

“Uncalled for,” said Ozzy diplomatically. “They did just want to make sure you were alive.”

“And they did, and now they can go.” Basil said bitterly. “And they won’t tell anyone about anything going on here, correct?”

“We can’t do that,” Reyn said. “The slayers need to know!”

“And you’re certain of this?” Basil asked. “Both of you?”

Reyn nodded but David didn’t.

“Very well. Start with Reyn. David, why don’t you sit very still?”

Ozzy picked Reyn up and whispered an apology into his ear before biting down into his neck.

The influx of blood into Ozzy’s body was filling, but the information even more so. As he drank, everything that made Reyn himself was laid bare before the vampire, soft and pliable like unworked clay.

Reyn relaxed even as his pain surged, the psychic connection between him and the vampire feeding on him rendering him compliant and giddy.

David screamed, but couldn’t move, almost transfixed by the sight of his partner being drained before him.

Ozzy’s influence on his thrall was minimal. The core of who Reyn was was perfectly functional; only a few key details needed to be changed. As he rewrote Reyn, the poor human felt a surge of pleasure as a haze of euphoria settled over him.

Ozzy removed himself from Reyn and set the man down across from David. Surprisingly little blood had actually been drained from him, but the effects the bite had had would be significant.

“Wh-what did you do to him!?” David asked, trying to crab walk away from the situation.

“Nothing major,” Ozzy said. “He’ll be quite happy here, now. He’ll never want to leave. If you can keep a secret, you don’t have to join him.”

“Did you… make him gay?” David asked.

Reyn swayed slightly, making a satisfied, sleepy sound as he knelt.

“Yes,” Ozzy said. “It would be cruel to not do so, don’t you think?”

“Everything about this is cruel! That’s fucked up!” David said.

“I did what I had to for the safety of Prosper,” Ozzy said. “And if you want to leave, you’ll hold your tongue.”

“I can’t… I can’t just leave him like this,” David said, standing up. His fear was suddenly gone, replaced by concern for his friend.

“He’s my best pal. What’s he gonna do when he snaps out of it and I’m long gone?”

“You don’t have to leave,” Ozzy said, meeting the slayer’s gaze. “I can change you, too.”

David gulped, looking down at the dazed Reyn and then back to Ozzy, whose face was still dripping blood. “Fuck. Okay, do it.”

The last thing David felt was the jab of fangs in his neck.

David woke up in a large, comfortable bed. He tried to piece together where he was, his memory foggy. He had come to Prosper with Reyn… they were staying with the patrician, Basil, as his guests.

Reyn… Reyn Reyn Reyn. Something was different about how he understood Reyn, who was sleeping next to him.

They had traveled here together, as partners, and were staying in a fancy room, which meant… David looked over Reyn, where a bouquet of wildflowers was sitting in a porcelain vase. A bottle of wine stood next to it, along with a pair of silver rings.

Wedding rings.

“Oh!” David said aloud, snapping Reyn awake. “We’re on our honeymoon. Of course.”

“Of course,” Reyn echoed sleepily. “Honeymoon…”

This made perfect sense to David, except he didn’t usually imagine people spending their honeymoon in the place they were moving to.

But that was a minor thing to rationalize, and David had more important things on his mind. He snuggled closer to Reyn, draping one arm around his lover. 

Something about the gesture felt new and strange, though he must’ve done it a hundred times before.

Reyn moved his own hand so that they were clasped together as he leaned in to match David. “This is nice,” he said.

“It is,” David agreed. He withdrew his hand to grab Reyn’s thigh, seeking out a more sensitive target. “But this is nicer.”

David’s hand grabbed Reyn’s cock as he bit down on his lover’s neck. The near-yelling moans of the man were the most beautiful thing David had ever heard.