A/N: Hello lovely people! I've released this chapter way sooner than I ought to and I know I'll be finding a million mistakes. But I hope you'll enjoy it all the same 🖤 Comments and likes are always appreciated 🖤
Edits will happen ASAP ✨
Chapter 4.
The blade bit into his skin, catching briefly on bone, before it thunked loudly into the floorboards.
For an instant, Daniel was numbed by adrenaline and then the pain flared with a sickening pulse of blood.
He pulled on his trapped arms and sobbed, eyes blinded by tears and teeth grinding into the gag. A hand brushed back his sweat dampened hair, but he didn't know whose.
"Give it!" The boy demanded and then a hard object was crushed against the open wound. Daniel screamed until his throat ached. Pain ravaged through his foot and the abused nerves burned hot, then ice cold, then numb.
He was distantly aware when he was lifted and pressed against warmth.
He panted, feeling sick, and each thump of his heart made his foot throb with agony. A voice was murmuring something and he turned blindly towards it.
Eventually he became aware of a fragrant steam on his chin and a voice ordering him to drink. He didn't want to, but a hand clamped onto the back of his head and forced his lips against the cup. He drank, scalding his tongue, but the pain faded instantly.
The tea tasted like rosemary and something earthy and the pain gradually reduced to a mild ache. When the cup was empty he asked for another.
"One more." The witch demanded and the cup was taken from his hand and refilled.
"If he wants a third, you're getting it yourself." E spoke sharply and her footsteps thudded away.
Daniel drank fast. With the pain dulled his mind started to clear and he became aware of a steady heartbeat against his spine.
He finished the tea and tattoed fingers plucked the cup from his weak hands and placed it on the floor. They were half lying in a rickety chair and Daniel's legs were dangling over the armrest.
"It hurts." Daniel said and wiped his nose.
"Yeah." The witch said, voice rumbling through his shoulder, and pressed a handkerchief into Daniel's hand. The fabric was thin and worn, but when Daniel lifted it to his face it smelled clean. He wiped his sweaty face and blew his nose.
"I can wash it." He offered, feeling drowsy, but still appalled when the boy re-pocketed it.
"No need." The boy said and a girl nearby snorted.
Daniel turned his head and saw her sitting by the fire. She was scandalously clad in a man's shirt that slipped off one thin shoulder and her bare feet were stretched towards the warmth of the fire. And on the rug beside her was the biggest dog Daniel had ever seen. It resembled a wolf, but it was the size of a pony.
His eyes went wide and the girl smirked at him, pushing back a mop of scraggly black curls.
"Handsome isn't he?" She said and turned to scratch the dog's scruff. "Where's your manners, Teras?"
The dog's head lifted and Daniel made a small sound of fright. The beast had eyes like two burning coins and they fixed on Daniel with eerie intelligence. It growled and he felt his skin prickle with fear.
The girl cackled and slapped the dog upside the head. It snapped its huge teeth a hair's breadth from her fingers and huffed.
"You're the rude one! Scaring our guest like that." She exclaimed, as if the dog had spoken.
A firm kiss pressed to Daniel's cheek and he realized he was clutching the boy's tattooed arm around his waist; seeking protection from the person who maimed him. It was completely irrational, but he almost felt...safe.
He turned his head and met the witch's mat irises. There was something hungry in his eyes - something possessive - and Daniel felt his cock twitch in response. No one had ever looked at him like that before and to receive such regard from another male. It was unbelievable. A dream come true...or a nightmare.
He licked his lips and the boy's dark lashes lowered to stare at his mouth, but when he spoke it wasn't the words Daniel expected. "Where's the glove?"
"The..." Daniel frowned in confusion, before he caught on. It was mr. Wilbury's glove of-course. The man who had framed Daniel's father for murder.
His spine straightened with resolve and he pointed towards the coat rack. "In my pocket."
The boy slipped out from behind him and Daniel felt that strange uneasiness seize him again. Don't leave me!
The boy riffled through Daniel's coat and produced the leather glove and a small bag of gingerbread cookies. He shoved a cookie into his mouth and lifted the glove to his nose. He sniffed it once and grimaced.
"Well? Which one is he?" E asked in a scholarly tone and leaned against the table to light a pipe.
"Greed." The boy answered with his mouth full and stuffed the glove in his pocket.
.....
The witch accompanied Daniel on his way out, an arm around his waist as he limped through the morbid shop. Each step brought on a wave of pain. But it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as it ought to.
A woman was by the till, crying hysterically. She wore a shawl to hide her identity, but the fringes of her coat and dress looked expensive.
"He was with her the night I birthed our child. He was with that harlot! I nearly died and he didn't care..." The woman sobbed and the reader murmured condolences, face arranged in an expression of sympathy, but her black eyes looked cold and calculating.
The woman was so overwrought, she paid no mind to the boys slipping outside.
"I want him to suffer! I want him to weep for years, like I..." The beads clacked behind them and the door thankfully shut.
The streets were bathed in a dull light and the icy wind cut to the bone. But the witch hadn't bothered with a coat and his black eyes were watchful. The streets were quiet except for the occasional beggar, but faces peered at them from murky windows and dark doorways.
At one point they turned a corner and a man approached them. He looked rough and unhealthy and his eyes had a desperate gleam to them.
"S-Sir, is everything..." Daniel's words died in his throat when the man pulled out a knife and lunged at him.
The witch shoved Daniel onto the filthy stone and his foot flared with pain. He looked up and saw the man stand frozen, knife poised in the air. His eyes were blank and staring into space.
"Wha..." the man blinked rapidly. "I can't see. I can't see!" His face contorted with fear and he slashed blindly at the air. "I'll gut ya, ya bleeding witch! Send ya back to hell where ya came from!"
The boy stepped soundlessly around the man and reached down to pull Daniel to his feet. They left and Daniel held his breath, heart pounding.
The man's wild curses soon changed to pleas. "I beg ya! Don't leave me like this! I have a wife and children! He paid me to do it!"
He suddenly had a fit of violent coughing and fell to his knees. Daniel looked back, horrified, and saw the man hack something thick and wet onto the pavement.
That man had intended to kill Daniel and without the witch's aid he would have. But he had a family too. What had his story been that he had resorted to this?
Daniel's eyes smarted and he looked up at the boy. "Why?" He whispered. "Why would he do that?"
The boy glanced down at him and then back up, scanning the alleys intently.
"Someone wants you dead." He said, voicing what Daniel already knew, but had a hard time accepting.
"W-will he die?" He asked weakly.
"Would you rather it had been you?" The witch snarked and scowled at him. "Feel free to thank me anytime."
Daniel felt sick, but he choked out a thank you and the boy looked grudgingly appeased.
.....
It was growing dark by the time they reached the road to Daniel's home and the witch tugged him into the shadows.
Daniel's back was pressed against cold stone and for an instant his heart thudded with fear, before a warm mouth pressed onto his.
If it had been good before, it was electric now. His blood heated and he clutched the boy's neck with one hand, the other cradling his sharp jaw as their tongues touched.
When they separated they were both breathing hard and Daniel's clothes felt heavy and constricting. A hand squeezed his swollen crotch and he gasped, reaching for the witch's trousers.
It was completely mad to be doing this outside, in the freezing cold where anyone could chance upon them. But Daniel couldn't have stopped, even if he wanted to.
A hard shaft sprung into his hand and he shivered with delight. He'd briefly forgotten the boy didn't wear bloomers.
A shift closer allowed their groins to press - a shock of heat in the icy air - and the witch gripped them tight in his fist.
The pleasure was scorching and Daniel arched his spine, ignoring the pain in his foot as he rocked his hips, hugging the boy's thin waist and mouthing his warm throat.
The skin tasted salty and sweet - and the boy's urgent breaths gushed against his ear and a hand squeezed his buttock hard.
He licked, sucked and, when the orgasm slammed into him, he bit into firm skin.
The witch's moan was muffled in his hair and their bodies trembled. When his muscles softened he became aware of the ache in his jaw.
He quickly released the boy's throat and kissed the abused skin. His teeth had left small indentations of blood, that looked black in the faint light, and a rush of fear cut through the euphoria.
"I beg your pardon." He whispered shakily and tasted something metallic in his mouth. "I don't know what came..."
"Shut up." The witch spoke lazily in his ear and semen soaked fingers lifted to Daniel's mouth. He didn't think twice about opening and sucking in a long, sticky digit. He could feel the witch's eyes on him as he diligently cleaned each tattooed finger, until they gleamed with spit.
The taste drove him wild, all hot musky bitterness, and his cock jerked again. He wished he was lower and could taste it straight from the source. With that thought in mind he looked the witch square in the eye.
The boy's skin shone unnaturally white in the dark and his eyes resembled black caverns.
"You missed your calling." The witch breathed and grazed Daniel's bottom lip with his thumb. "You'd be well off sucking pricks in the street."
Daniel's mind went blank with shock.
"How dare...!" His fist swung through the air and the boy danced out of reach with a wicked grin. With his shirt open, Daniel noticed a small pouch strung by a leather chord on his smooth chest.
"I keep my word, Daniel." The witch tucked himself back into his trousers and disappeared rapidly into the shadows.
Daniel's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name and he'd actually limped five steps in pursuit, before he stopped himself.
"Oh god..." he put himself to rights with trembling fingers and shame, stronger than anything he'd ever felt, crashed down on him. "Oh, dear god."
.....
When he approached his door he saw fresh signs of vandalism painted across the sealed windows and a few of the boards had been bludgeoned to splinters.
Daniel's breath caught in his throat and he fumbled for his key and opened the door.
The bakery looked dark and deserted, a far cry from the warm and inviting place it used to be.
"Mom?" Daniel called urgently and limped up the stairs.
Guilt stung in his heart. He should never have left her alone. A woman, soon to be widow, left unprotected. What if she had gone out in search of him, or worse, what if someone had broken in and hurt her. "Mom?!"
There was a rustle of sound and then steps clattered down the stairs. Daniel's legs nearly gave out in relief when he saw her. She looked like she'd aged ten years in just a few days. Her golden hair, usually pinned back neatly, was in disarray and her blue eyes looked haunted.
"Daniel!" She rushed down to meet him and gripped him tight, brushing back his curls and peppering his brow with kisses. "Where in heaven's name have you been?!"
Mabel scurried around the kitchen, lighting candles and setting two plates of cold pie on the table, along with a few slices of apple and glasses of milk.
Daniel hadn't eaten all day and he wasn't accustomed to skipping meals, but his stomach felt knotted and he had to force the food down.
"What happened to your leg? And where have you been?" She asked again, face tight with worry. Daniel had never lied to his mother before, but he knew the truth would only hurt her more.
"I went to find help and I slipped and knocked my leg. It's only a bruise." He said and his guilt deepened at the small spark of hope that lit her eyes.
"And did you? Did you find help?" She asked, knuckles white around her cutlery.
"I'm not sure, but I hope so." He said and put down his fork in defeat. He couldn't summon an appetite. Mabel's mouth pulled down in a frown and she leaned forward to search his face.
"Who did you speak to Daniel? Who were these people?" But the frightened look in her eyes told Daniel she already suspected.
"Just some friends. We still have a few." Daniel forced a smile, hating himself for lying. But he had to. Or she might do something foolhardy, like find the witches herself and demand they revoke the bargain.
His mother's eyes shone, as if she was holding back tears, but she responded with a tremulous smile and took her plate to the sink. She hadn't eaten anything either.
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