Thinker, Cutpurse, Demon Vamp

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Steampunk and Gothic Horror in London 1890.
20.8k words
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Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,760 Followers

This is a story strictly for fun and much of the source ideas are from all over the place. Have fun and enjoy.

Thinker, Cutpurse, Demon... Vamp

October 1890:

My father had told me from a young age, he had said...

"Son, if you are going to survive and prosper on the streets of this great city, you are going to have to be smarter than the cops, quicker than your rivals and for goodness sake never steal from someone you know that business always ends badly."

So taking his advice I worked hard on all the things a great thief has to know and be able to perform them as if it was second nature. I taught myself how to climb nearly any surface in any weather or situation, I ran every day to keep up my stamina and my dear old dad taught me the ways around all manner of locking mechanism that had ever been thought up and for good measure I had a friend of the family teach me the fine art of pick pocketing. All of these things I drilled until they were like walking and breathing for the horror stories of prison were enough to keep me razor sharp for every endeavor I contemplated. By the age of ten, I was able to cry on command and look lost and acquire from those doting women who came close enough for my practiced fingers to relieve them of either jewelry or cash depending on what was available of course and then disappear as quickly as I had lured them in. At the age of twelve my father gave me for my birthday a captain's spyglass so that I might more easily watch potential houses in desperate need of burgling.

But it was in the winter of my eighteenth year that I noticed some rather unusual activity at the home of one Doctor Griffin. It was the luring of a neighbor's cat that first drew my attention to his abode thinking he was either going to kill it for being a nuisance or eat it because of a string of bad luck but neither was the case. The good doctor took it to his second story laboratory and there subjected the animal to some sort of injection treatment. The effect wasn't immediate but was shocking nonetheless, after approximately one quarter of an hour after receiving the injection the cat simply faded from view and disappeared in its cage. As I watched through the spyglass the doctor did a little dance and scribbled hastily in his journal about the effects of his serum. I decided at that moment that I would have that very compound for my very own. What better thing to have as a thief than the power of invisibility. I could stroll into a bank as it was closing and observe the manager locking the safe and memorize the combination and stand around until all was clear and steal at my leisure. Oh but this was wondrous! The good doctor reached into the cage and handled the ethereal animal and for all I could observe from his facial expressions all was well with the cat. So delighted was he that the doctor took up coat and hat and headed for the door no doubt to celebrate his success. As I watched he left his home locking up behind him and headed north to the pub not two blocks from his home.

I wasted no time and made my way from my place of concealment to the back door of the doctor's home. With practiced ease the lock yielded to me and soon I was inside and heading for his laboratory. I could hear the cat from the bottom of the stairs as it meowed and scratched at the bars of its cage. Halfway up the stairs I could smell the distinct odor of chemicals filling the air. The stench became almost overpowering by the time I topped the flight and entered the well lit room that served the purpose of his experiments. There were beakers and tubes and piping and burners and papers all over the place. Tables were arranged in an H pattern to facilitate easy migration from one phase of the chemical process to the next. But even to my untrained eye there was more than one experiment going on and god help me I spent the time to look through his notes as quickly as I could. The main body of his work was upon the invisibility formula but his side project of which he was actually being paid was for a 'health tonic' for a foreign customer named Von Helsing, German or Dutch by the sound of it. The notes seemed to indicate that the project was complete and a sample and letter containing the formula were ready for tomorrow's post, how convenient! Two birds with one stone mother would have said, god rest her soul. So after acquiring two syringes and samples of both treatments, and the recipe for the health tonic, I was long gone by the time the good doctor returned home.

Travelling to a safe place to inoculate myself I settled down in a quiet room with a warm cozy fire and decided to try the health tonic first. I read the recommended dosage on the letter to this Professor Von Helsing and added a bit for good measure and injected a nice robust vein in my left arm. If I had been a more analytical fellow I would have written down my experiences and dropped the letter in the doctor's mail slot but I was not and so did not. But as I waited for the treatment to take effect I fancied what I might have put down in the letter.

Patient X injected with treatment at nine o'clock sharp. Patient noted a sense of euphoria at half past the hour. At the top of the next hour patient feels a surge of energy driving away all sense of fatigue from the long day's events. Patient notes a definite shift in perception and clarity of thought as if for the lack of better words 'getting smarter'. Patient walks around the room a bit restless and looks out the window facing out over the alley and in a rush of wonder notices the darkness has nothing to hide from his gaze. Patient X says that the sense of energy has changed to that of a feeling of great strength as if he could perform any physical act with ease. At ten thirty he notices a heightening of other senses now, his hearing and sense of smell more acute like some great hound. He can smell the cheap perfume of the whore next door as she gets ready to go out on the town for 'work'. The patient opens the window to let in a breeze to drive away the cloying scent as it fills his nostrils. Oh but the cool air on his skin is like the caress of some courtesan from some far off land, so exotic and arousing.

Now the patient decides to take the second injection and complete his transformation to a more complete human being. The second syringe finds it mark in an equally robust vein in the right arm and he waits for the miracle of invisibility to be conveyed upon him. Patient X strips down to the skin and sits before the crackling fire with his back to the flames observing his shadow to see if it will disappear as he fades from sight. It is not long before the distinct tingling sensation is felt in the right arm and then travels all over the body. Within a short time the patient notices a minute distortion of his shadow; like a stone dropped in a pool his shadow begins to ripple, then fade and finally disappear altogether.

The deed was done! I was invisible and an entirely new life was waiting for me. I lifted my hand to my face and knew it was there but could see nothing. I stood up and looked down and it was a little disconcerting that there was nothing for my eyes to lock onto. I walked around and stumbled at first but realized I was over thinking this simplest of things and just walked doing so without further impairment. London was in for a most unpleasant shock as was my father when I came home and told him what I had done. I gathered up my clothes and got dressed pulling up the collar of my coat as high as it could get and making sure my hat and scarf covered as much of my head and face as was possible. I put the remaining health tonic and the letter to the professor in my jacket pocket and headed home. Walking as I always did with head down and shoulders stooped I drew little attention to myself on the hour long jaunt back to the run down flat in the less desirable part of this ancient place. Eternal London with its great palace and meandering river where the lords and ladies ruled over those of thinner blood but that changed tonight, tonight saw the birth of an invisible rogue who like the fictional Robin Hood would make things better for the less fortunate. Gods! I was rambling in my own mind and letting this entire situation take me over. I was born a thief and I will die a thief; life was just that simple. I had just changed my odds is all? But the fantasy was thrilling there was no denying that. It was well after midnight when I arrived home bursting with need to share my story with my father but alas I found him sleeping and by the pungent odor reeking from his prone form he was deep in his drink. I shrugged and went to find my own bed and sleep until morning or until he was sober and conscious enough to hear my tale. But sleep did not come as the hold of the healing tonic was still hot in my veins so I decided to do what came natural I practiced the thieving arts until the break of dawn and still I was no more tired than when I first began hours earlier. I went into the kitchen and fixed a pot of tea and a spot of breakfast until the old man awakened and my patience was rewarded as he stumbled into the kitchen not a half hour later. Perhaps it was the scent of tea that dredged him from his alcoholic stupor not that it really mattered he was awake and I could at last share my story. It was almost comical to see him flinch seeing me all covered up in jacket, hat and scarf like some intruder but he quickly recognized my clothing and visibly relaxed.

"Geez son you gave me quite a fright! What's with the whole cover up thing have you caught a nasty cold or something?"

"Or something," I said standing and searching for the right words to explain to him what had transpired. "I think you need to sit down and have a cup of tea before I launch into what happened last night."

"Did someone hurt you? Give you a good scar? Is that why you are all covered up? Ooh I'll have their heart if someone laid hands on my boy..."

"Dad relax I'm okay sit and calm down this is good news."

"Oi! You could've warned me and not scared your old dad like this!"

"Well consider yourself warned, now sit down and have a bloody cup of tea you old worry wart! You are as bad as that widow lady down the block."

I served him his tea and a bite of eggs and toast as I let the words form in my head.

"Dad you know that doctor fellow, Griffin who lives down from the Wolf's Head Pub?"

"That I do."

"Well I have been eyeing his place for about a week now and decided to help myself to some of his nicer things."

"That's a good lad; rich folks always have too many things to worry them sick."

"Well I was using the spyglass last night when I saw the most amazing thing."

"Do tell."

"I spied him snatching the neighbor's cat and taking it upstairs to his laboratory to be experimented on. He filled a syringe with some chemical he had developed and injected the cat with it."

"Did the cat die?"

"No dad the cat didn't die... it vanished... became invisible..." I could see the shock of my words hit home as he got to his feet and stared at me hard before speaking.

"Take off that hat and scarf boy!"

A demon is born...

I stood at the back of the church watching the preacher and congregation pray and sing and offer up thanks to the unseen god that they believed watched over them and answered their heartfelt cries for mercy and aid for myriad desires. I had been a part of this parish off and on for the majority of my life mostly for the fact that my mother felt it was the one thing that might at the end of my miserable life save my immortal soul from the life of thievery and deceit. So I honored her memory and attended services infrequently but still when the mood struck me I came to light a candle for her and try to find forgiveness in a lifestyle that allowed me to feed my aging father and myself. I had never killed anyone or even physically hurt a living soul in my entire criminal career and I felt that I never would I was not 'that' kind of thief. Lost in thought I missed the last hymn being sung and the last blessing being bestowed and it was the people leaving in mass that woke me from my mental stupor. I watched the parishioners file out and almost missed Mary as she slipped out the side to the private garden that lay on the west side of the church grounds. Curious as to why, with so much stealth, she stalked from the confines of the church I decided to follow. With some effort I managed to slip unfelt by the last trickle of humanity and reach the west door undetected and open it and follow the pastor's daughter out into the garden. I could smell her perfume, jasmine, as I entered the manicured lawn and meticulously arranged flower beds all abloom with myriad colors and perfumes of their own. Then came the acrid smell of burning tobacco and I heard the deep throated sigh of Mary Bishop as she took a long draw on one of her pilfered cigars that no doubt belonged to her father. He would have tanned her backside if he knew that she was hiding out here smoking one of his expensive guilty pleasures but she was acting out in the only way she knew how I guessed. I caught sight of her and bit back a gasp of surprise as I took in her beauty. She had grown even more delicate and ethereal the older she became and at the age of nineteen she was truly a vision of loveliness. Her long black hair was now down and free from the constraints of pins and hat; her pale skin was flawless and showed no signs of illness or imperfection that I could see. She had curves now that would tempt even the most saintly of men and eyes the color of sky or ocean whose merest gaze would steal a man's heart for the rest of his life.

She looked around often fearful of being caught with the cigar but continued to enjoy the wicked pleasure of it and maybe it was this that inspired my carnal desires to know her in the most intimate of ways. I crept up behind her on silent feet until we were mere inches apart before I reached around and cupped her heavy breasts in my hands and breathed in her ear. My hot breath and groping hands elicited a deep guttural moan from her as she looked over her shoulder and saw... nothing and no one.

"Are you a demon?"

"Yes..." I moaned in her ear.

"Are you going to make love to me?"

"Yes..."

"I could scream and run away..."

"...but who would believe you?"

"Mmm... but I am the daughter of a good man..."

"...with the sin of lust in your heart and your loins."

I was kneading her soft flesh now and lightly pinching her pebble hard nipples through her dress as she leaned back into me and dropped the cigar and gave into her hunger and desire.

"Take me demon... I cannot fight the urge to be violated."

"Undress sinner so that my touch may know you better."

She never hesitated and never looked back now as she shed her clothing for me. I watched hungrily as her flesh was revealed slowly but surely. Soon she stood before me beautiful in her nakedness and if there were demons she would have tempted them to come to her and violate her as I was going to. I stepped forward and leaned down and kissed her and gods it was like being struck by lightning! She returned my kiss and moaned deeply into my mouth as she pressed her breasts against my chest nipples digging into my flesh. Soon she had molded her body to mine and my hardness was trapped between her legs and rubbing underneath her drenched sex as she rocked her hips forward and back teasing us both. Panting with desire I broke the kiss and growled deep in my chest.

"Pierce me demon with your unnatural flesh... unnnnn!!!"

I spun her around so that once more I was behind her and I slowly pushed her so that she bent from the waist until our sexes aligned properly and the tip touched her lips.

"Push back," I told her.

"What demon?"

"I said push back... I want you to impale yourself on me."

She did as she was bid and I slowly entered her warm, wet depths with a patience that surprised us both. Then when I felt she was ready I began to move my hips and she followed suit and thrusting back to meet my forward plunge. A nice slow rhythm was established as we explored each other's bodies with hands and mouth, touching and tasting which only enhanced the experience. I licked and nipped at her long elegant neck and she ground against me driving me as deep as was possible.

"Yes my demon lover, give me that pleasure I have so long denied myself!"

My thrusts became stronger and faster as I felt her body begin to stiffen with the approach of her climax. She placed the side of her fist in her mouth and bit down to keep from screaming as she arched her back when her orgasm came crashing down upon her. She was grunting now as she tossed away any care of being heard and caught in this most sinful act. Her body was dictating her actions now and to see her like this was a dream come true. Still I pounded her hard and fast from the rear as I felt that delicious tingling sensation telling me my own climax was nearing and Mary moaned all the louder as I swelled inside of her stretching her just a bit more.

"Oh my you are filling me up so wonderfully my demon! Are you going to spill your demon seed inside of me?"

"Yes..."

"Will you visit me in my bed after today?"

"Do you desire me to...?"

"Yessss..." she moaned. "I want to feel you inside of me over and over again; my body belongs to you now."

"How can I refuse?"

I picked up the pace and began to thrust harder and faster as I felt that distinct feel of my orgasm as it raced to envelope me as hers did so recently. Mary had managed to get a hold of herself and bit her lip to keep quiet and silent she remained even as she moved her body against mine with equal force to drive us both over the edge. With one last savage drive of my hips I buried my member as deep as it could go even as my seed pulsed inside of her; so much that it oozed out and spilt upon the grass at our feet.

"Leave me a key to your home in the yellow rose bush and tonight I will visit you again and violate you over and over," I told her.

"A key...? I don't understand why does a demon require a key?"

"It is symbolic of your desire to unlock your lust and body to me."

"I understand... now."

I arrived home and found my father sitting in the living room reading a book. I went to my room and dressed so he had something to fix his gaze upon as we talked. I walked down the stairs not trying to hide my footsteps as I approached the living room and my father.

"I took your advice and went to church."

"So how was it?"

"I can honestly say it was the best day of my life and I will be returning there often."

"That's a good lad! I am glad you found a fine spiritual anchor."

"I would call it a nice warm place to find comfort."

"How about a cup of tea," he offered.

"You know I am a bit parched..."

After tea with dad I went up to my room to plan my day. Idle hands are the devil's workshop my mum said so often. It was obvious to me I still had to do a majority of my thefts at night so no one saw things floating through the air so I would spend the days observing places that I would otherwise have never been able to even set foot into and observe their security and even tamper with it. My first stop Witherspoon and Associates a place where money is loaned to folks at sinful percentages. They always had cash on hand and that would do as a fine start. Reeking of sweat and sex I took my bath four days early much to the shock of the old man but my thought was this they may not be able to see me but they sure as hell could smell me. After a pleasant soak and drying off slipped out the back unheard and unseen and made the ten blocks stroll to the counting house. Like most of London the two story building was old but Michael Witherspoon Sr. had spent some of his ill-gotten currency on fortifying the upper floor from thievery by placing a kind of fencing around the gables that had sharpened metal spikes to deter entry from that direction. The windows likewise were barred on both levels and the doors stout oak. Short of burning the place down it appeared impossible to burgle but not for me. I waited patiently until a customer entered and followed swiftly after and took up a position free from human traffic and observed. The man who entered was finely dressed and was obviously a person of means and producing a note and displaying the ring on his right hand the clerk approached the office of Old Witherspoon himself and entered after a momentary wait. I crept behind the man to see what manner of jewelry produced such results and saw it was an ornate signet ring with three swords forming a triangle and an eye within the confines of the swords. How interesting I thought I may have to procure this ring and discover what lies behind its meaning. As I heard the door to the office open I withdrew from the man and when the clerk summoned him to the old man's office I followed silently after. Once the door was closed the two embraced and the elder Witherspoon offered his guest a seat.

Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,760 Followers