Home | Fan Fiction | Livejournal | Music Videos | Links | Contact

The Package

The Package
Rated: PG-13
Archive: Please ask first.
Email: amalthia@slashcity.com
Feedback: Love it. Author Note: I edited this story myself. Any and all mistakes are mine and Microsoft Word grammar/spelling check. If the grammar bothers you too much edit the story and mail it to me.


The Package

The young boy lay curled up in the dark alley. He was too weak from the cold and hunger to move a muscle. Occasionally he would moan in pain from the beating he received from his drunk and angry stepfather. Jory closed his eyes against the sight of a big brown rat squirming its way into the crack of a worn down building trying to escape the cold winter night. Jory slowly climbed to his feet. His overly long black hair fell into his eyes and he shook his head in irritation. Jory started walking to the street knowing he would die if he didn't find shelter before it started snowing. It took Jory five minutes to reach the street. His thin coat was no protection against the raging wind, which tore down the street with a chilling force. Jory grasped in surprise at the cold. People with clothes little better than his ignored him as they hurried to find shelter from the oncoming storm. Carriages moved slowly down the street unable to move faster due to the horses having to fight against the wind.

Jory must have walked for about thirty minutes feeling a hopeless fury building in his chest at his stepfather for doing this to him and his mother for not doing anything to help. He started crying when he saw the first snow flakes descended from the sky. His tears started to freeze on his cheeks and his nose wouldn't stop running. He never noticed a fancy black carriage pull up next to him or the tall man who jumped out. Suddenly he felt a hand grab the back of his hair and jerk him around. Jory cried out in pained surprise, before a rag with a funny smell was placed over his mouth and nose.

Alan picked up the fragile unconscious boy and cradled him in his arms protecting the small bundle from the harsh wind. Once he was back in the carriage again he held the boy on his lap and smoothed the boy's dark hair back, even unconscious the boy trembled. He wrapped his black cloak around the small form to help keep the boy warm. Then Alan used his fancy cane and thumped the top of the carriage with it, signaling the driver to take him to his house.

Two hours later, only after the unconscious boy was washed and fitted for new clothes, did Alan send his messenger to tell one of his never before seen clients that the package had been delivered and for him to come and pick it up.

While he was waiting he took the boy downstairs to the basement where he conducted his business. The basement was warm and cozy due to the furnace and rugs on the floor a small bed lay in one of the corners of the basement. The center of the room held a coffin like box with holes on the top so the person inside could breathe. Alan stripped the boy and placed him naked in the padded box. He made sure the boy was tied down before he closed the heavy wood lid.

Then he tied a big red ribbon across the top to make sure the boy couldn't open the lid, in case he woke early. Alan picked up the boy's clothes and folded them neatly before placing them on the bed in the corner of the room. He then went upstairs to wait for his guest.

Peter Townesend woke from his drunken sleep by the pounding on his door. "Sir!

Sir! There's someone here to see you! He say's it's urgent!" Peter's overzealous servant continued to pound on the door.

Not able to bear it anymore Peter yelled, "Okay! Okay! I hear you! Just stop that wretched pounding!" Peter tried to get out of his bed with some sort of dignity and he would have succeeded if it weren't for his clothes lying on the floor. One of his feet snagged a pant's leg and he staggered around trying to keep his balance but overabundance once again got to him and he went down with a large thud his elbows hitting the polished wood floor. Two minutes later he finally made it to the door and opened it. Tad, his butler for the last five years since Peter left his father's house at the age of eighteen stood in the doorway his mouth hanging open at the sight of his respectable master in the nude.

"S...S...Sir! Where are your clothes? There's a guest downstairs." Tad's face flushed a deep red in embarrassment as he watched his master stumble back in his room.

Five minutes later Peter was downstairs and in the parlor to see who had come so late in the evening. He saw a man sitting on his favorite chair, the only one in the room that didn't look like it would break if you sat on it, he cleared his throat, and the man in the chair jumped up in surprise. The young man stared stupidly at the half naked muscular man before remembering himself.

"Sir, Are you Mr. Peter Townesend?"

"As a matter of fact I am. What is it to you?" Peter scowled and almost started laughing when he saw the messenger gulp.

"Um... I was sent to tell you the package has been delivered." The messenger handed Peter a piece of paper with an address on it, "If you're not there within two hours the package will be sold to someone else." With that last remark the young man scurried out of the house leaving Peter utterly confused.

One hour later Peter was standing on the doorstep of the house he'd been directed to, his temper almost at a boiling point. He didn't like being woken up once he fell asleep, and made to wait outside in the freezing weather. After his tenth knock on the strong wooden door opened and a tall man with sharp features and dark eyes peered out. "Are you Peter Townesend?" The man asked.

"Yes. One of your men told me to come here for some package?" Peter answered trying to keep his voice from trembling due to the cold.

"Come on in! Sorry to keep you waiting." The man opened the door more widely and Peter stepped inside. The warmth of the house flooded through his chilled bones and made his body shiver in pleasure.

"So why am I here?" Peter asked getting straight to the point.

The man stiffened not expecting Peter to be so blunt. "Follow me I'll show you." The man said as he turned to walk towards the back of the house.

"Wait what should I call you?" Peter called after the retreating figure realizing that he didn't know the man's name.

"You can call me Alan." The man said without turning around.

Peter shook his head in puzzlement before following Alan. Peter felt a little nervous when Alan started going down some stairs that lead to the basement but his curiosity was pricked so he continued to follow Alan. The room was surprisingly well lighted and warm. Peter noticed a big light brown box sitting in the middle of the room with a huge red bow across the top of it like one would find on a nicely wrapped Christmas present.

Peter walked over to the box and tried moving it with his toes. The box didn't move an inch. "What's in the box." Peter asked in puzzlement.

"To find out what's in the box you'll have to pay me 1000 pounds." Alan replied without blinking an eye.

"What! What do you mean I have to pay you? You were the one who sent for me!"

Peter demanded starting to really get angry.

Alan looked at him without any expression in his eyes before answering. "Do you want the box or not?"

Peter knew 1000 pounds wouldn't even dent his budget so he gave into his curiosity and agreed to Alan's terms. Alan left him alone to open the box himself. Once Peter was sure that Alan was gone he untied the silk bow tie and lifted the lid. His eyes widened in shock and he accidentally dropped the lid.

He opened the lid again and stared down in shock at the beautiful boy with long black hair lying peacefully in the coffin like box. The boy's smooth white skin glowed in the firelight. Peter's eye's traveled down the boy's naked body taking in the bruises and concave stomach testimony of the boy's hunger. At first it looked like the boy was dead but then he noticed the boy's small chest slowly rising and falling under the thin ropes binding the boy to the bottom of box.

Looking at the boy he wouldn't be surprised if people had mistaken him for a girl. Once Peter's shock wore off he became furious. He carefully replaced the lid after making sure the lid had holes so the boy could breath. Peter went to the bottom of the stairs and started calling for Alan. He didn't have to wait too long before the object of his anger came down the stairs. "What the matter?" Alan asked softly.

"As if you don't know! What the hell are you trying to do? I can't take the boy with me!" Peter ranted waving his arms in the air and occasionally pointing at the box holding the boy.

Alan looked at Peter impassively before saying anything. " I don't care what you do with him you already paid for him so take him and get out. Oh and there's clothes on the bed he can use."

"What am I supposed to do with him?"

"I don' know use him, sell him, kill him, I don't care he's yours now. You have five minutes to get out of my house." With that statement Alan left the room.

Peter didn't even bother dressing the boy. He took off his cloak and wrapped the boy in it and picked him up. He glanced down in surprise at how light the boy felt, a sack of flour weighed more than him. Peter quickly left the house and carried his new burden to his waiting carriage. He had a distinct feeling that things were never going to be the same again...

The End