The night was cold, wind blowing as leafs scattered across the expanse of the asphalt. No sound could be heard, creating an eerie silence as the sun continued its descent. The dark street was void of all life, besides one young man.

Jongin’s shoes almost inaudibly tapped against the cement as he advanced further down the street. He was beyond exhausted as he shuffled with a lackadaisical manner. It was his senior year, and he was drowning in stress as his school work seemed to multiply, as well as trying to maintain his after school job at the local diner.

He still couldn’t believe it. Just four years he had walked into the Seoul’s School of Musical Arts, SM for short, being one of the couple hundred to ever step foot in the new academy. He remembers all the all-nighters he pulled to get to where he is now, joining as a proud graduate of the class ‘66. His future was planned accordingly, with all support from his family of course. He was in the process of becoming a professional dancer for a big entertainment label that he could honestly barely remember the name to. He just knows he chose right to perform at the talent search.

As stressing as life was, it was heading in the right direction.

Jongin suddenly felt a shiver run up his spine, coming to a stop at the edge of a corner. He looked behind him, feeling as if he was being followed only to furrow his eyebrows. ‘No one’ he mused, chuckling at his sudden paranoia. He began to walk again, slightly faster than before, though he’d never admit it. He didn’t make it ten steps from where he originally stopped when he heard a pained cry from behind. Without thinking, he followed his instincts and made his way towards the shrill sound.

Jongin began to feel suspicious as he stopped in front of an alleyway outside a bookstore he frequents in his free time, The Nook. He began to second guess whether or not he should assist the person, when another cry echoed from the enclosed brick darkness. With a shaky exhale, he stepped into the alleyway. “Uh...hello?” he called, halting in wait for a response.

“I-I’m here...p-please help me,” a voice whimpered out, slightly startling the teen. The voice belonged to a male, no doubt, but Jongin happened to notice the slight accent evident in the pained tone. His shoulder’s slumped a little as he let his guard down slightly. “Please...I...I don’t know how I got here.”

“Sir, where are you? W-Would you mind continuing to talk so I can try and find you? It;s pretty dark.” he chuckled, attempting to relieve the tension.

“U-uh, yeah. All I remember is getting out of m-my cab, and I just woke up here...I-I can’t stand up.”

“It’s okay, I’m here to help. I can tell you’re close.”

Jongin could vaguely see the silhouette of an old dumpster, and the feet that stick out from beside it. The man was half laying on a bag of garbage and leaning against the wall as his breath escaped in sporadic pants and huffs. Jongin couldn’t tell if the other was facing him or not from the position he was found. “I-I don’t think I can m-move...can you- NOW JOONMYEON!” he suddenly shouted, making Jongin fall over at the loud sound.

He didn’t know what was happening or how it did, but the next thing he knew, he was being lifted off the ground by his collar like a rag doll. He gasped for air as the hand tightened around his neck, effectively cutting off the air flow as he dangled in the air. Panic set in, legs awkwardly attempting to kick at the attacker and both of his hands pulling at the single one gripping his neck. Jongin’s eyes met the attacker’s own pair of luminescent, blood red, as he made a choked sound of fear.

“Is this who you want, honey?” the not-so-deep voice of the newly arrived man rasped out. Jongin was beginning feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen, but he chose to fight, continuing his clawing at the hands still tightly enclosed around his neck.

“He’s perfect, Joonmyeon! Thank you so much!” Jongin heard the voice from before exclaim with glee. He was scared and confused, and for the first time in what seems like eternity, tears escaped Jongin’s eyes as a sob managed to rip itself from his throat. The attacker’s, now revealed as Joonmyeon, eyes began to shift color, slowly becoming invisible in the pitch black air. “He’s definitely ours, but he won’t be if you keep holding him like that.” the voice giggled, Joonmyeon joining with his own soft chuckle.

Jongin gasped as his lungs finally recieved air, before choking on it as he was pushed against the wall and held tight. His tears were still cascading down his tanned cheeks as the feeling of Joonmyeon’s and the other man, who Jongin has already cursed out and referred to as the liar in his mind. “Name. Now.” Joonmyeon practically hissed, before whining when the other male slapped his shoulder. “Fine...what is your name, human?”

Jongin’s eyes widened at the word, not doubting that at least this Joonmyeon guy was indeed not a human. It probably would’ve taken two men to carry him, yet Joonmyeon lifted him up as if he was as light as a feather, and he’s sure there will be bruises on his neck by tomorrow. ‘If tomorrow comes’ he muses bitterly. He let out another gasp when the hand squeezed his shoulder tightly, slightly shaking him. “J-Jongin! Kim Jongin!”

“Oh my god, Joon, you are too aggressive,” chuckled th liar, “Just let me do the talking.” Jongin gulped when he felt a hand brush his fringe from his forehead in a comforting manner, but this was nothing of the sort. “Nice to meet you, Kim Jongin. I’m-”

“Babe, not now. Save it for later.”

Jongin hears a sigh, and then feels two skinny, cold finger tips slightly push his jaw to the side, exposing his neck. He let a sob that he didn’t know he was holding fall from his lips, body trembling slightly from fear. “Please...I-I just want to go home.”

The fingers retracted themselves from his face, before a whole palm rested on his cheek. Jongin gasped, eyes shutting as a hushed whimper escaped from the confines of his throat, not liking the way it contrasted alarmingly with his own body heat. A thumb came up to wipe away a tear as the owner shushed him quietly, beginning to coo at him. “You will, Jongin. You will, trust me.” At the revelation, Jongin let out a breath of relief. He didn’t want to go like this.

“I-I won’t tell anyone. Please, just l-let me go now.” Silence. Jongin grew increasingly antsy as no response came, and when the hand on his face stopped it’s ministrations. He could tell there was no one looking at him anymore, but that didn’t help him at all. “I’ll forget this happened! I swea-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as his jaw was once again pushed to the side, and he felt two teeth latch onto his neck. piercing the skin as lips began what he knew was his own blood. Another hand was forced over his mouth, muffling the scream the he began to release. He knew that the sharp teeth weren’t very big in size, but that did nothing to soothe the white hot pain slowly inching it’s way through his veins, and the area around them stung like fire being pressed against his nape. He could tell the Joonmyeon guy was talking, but his mind was blank, only registering the mouth at his neck.

And that’s when everything faded, blackness engulfing him in it’s cold embrace.

Everything was hot.

Jongin didn’t know if he remained alive or not, but this constant burning seemed to be a brutal reminder that he wasn’t given the privilege of death. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But most of all, he wanted his home and his family. The pain coursing through every fiber of his being was unbearable, and he was waiting for the moment his body finally accepted its fate, because this was excruciating. His mind was the only thing he had control of, and he felt like he was being restrained from being allowed to use his body. As much as his nerves protested, he questioned whether or not that was worse than the fire coursing through his veins.

Someone had to be taking care of him, and he hoped with all his being that it was his mother and he was stuck in a terrible nightmare. The burning would decrease every once and awhile, reduced to an almost tolerable blaze. Food wasn’t even a question. His stomach was one of the most affected areas, constantly tingling from the heat. How much time passed, he didn’t know, it being the last thing on his mind.

Jongin wanted to shout in glee when he felt his fingers twitch, finally feeling something in his limbs. The heat from inside has now dulled down to an uncomfortable thrum in his veins, but it was nothing like before. ‘Move again. Please. Anything to show that I’m definitely alive.’ Nothing happened, yet he didn’t give up, and after what felt like hours of waiting, he managed to actually move his entire right hand. What disturbed him was that he felt the familiar jolt of excitement like electricity in his veins, but his heart? Nothing.

Before too long, his eyes fluttered half open, only to clamp shut as the slight light coming from the window brought on a world of pain to his head. He groaned, attempting to shift in his bed but was unable to, as his body was still mostly rendered useless. Jongin hesitantly opened his eyes slower this time, only to gasp at his surroundings.

This was not his room.

He felt his breath quicken inpanic, eyes darting around at his surroundings. The bed, now that his fingers could feel again, was plush, silky smooth against his rough fingertips, and admittedly felt comfortable had it not been for the sweat soaked sheets and blankets. A majority of the objects in the room were crimson, almost resembling a red velvet cupcake, and had black to compliment it in the most beautiful, yet almost sensual way. The walls looked completely plush, and just by glance Jongin knew the walls were just that, and probably almost as soft as the sheets he resides in.

The sound of the door slowly opening snapped him out of his daze, letting him do his best to put his guard up. A head of pitch black locks slowly slid into Jongin’s line of view, followed by small, hesitant eyes and pale skin. When they made eye contact, the intruder’s eyes crinkled as he stepped forth a little too fast for Jongin’s liking. The other male wasn’t that much shorter than Jongin from the looks of it, and he didn’t look the slightest bit Korean. His eyes seemed innocent, and his lips were curled in a wide smile, yet Jongin felt intimidated. Who the hell was this guy?

“Oh, good you’re awake!” Jongin’s eyes widened before narrowing into a glare as he used all his strength to roll onto his side before groaning as his stomach churned uncomfortably. It was him, the liar. “My name is Yixing. I was the one from the alleyway, if you can remember.”

Of course I remember you.

“I’ve been checking up on you while you were asleep, son.” Jongin cringed at the name, before dismissing it as him referring to him like that because he’s probably older. It wasn’t exactly uncommon. “You are probably still feeling the after effects of my bite. I’m sorry I had to do that, but I had to do it before Joonmyeon decided to suddenly kill you.” Yixing stated as if it was nothing, effectively freaking out the teen. “It’s probably like a fever, right? God, I haven’t had one of those in so long.”

Jongin didn’t respond to any of Yixing’s attempts, angered that he managed to get kidnapped by someone who looked so clueless and innocent. But there was Joonmyeon, too. The bed shifted as Yixing walked over to the other side of the bed, directly in front of Jongin. He attempted to face the other, but a hand stopped him from doing so, a pout forming on the kidnapper’s lips. Jongin continued to glare at him, almost faltering as the other pouted. “Are...are you mad at me, Jongin? For changing you? If so, I’m sorry, but-”

“Changing me?” Jongin cringed at how hoarse his words came out, suddenly realising just how parched he was. His throat felt like sandpaper.

“Oh, I brought water!” Yixing’s smile was back on as he dug in a satchel that Jongin hadn’t even noticed the other had. The second a small flask was offered, with newfound strength, Jongin ripped it out of his hands, almost in delight as the liquid washed down his throat. Yixing giggled slightly, watching in fascination as Jongin downed it all in as little as four giant gulps. “Woah there, I don’t remember seeing any of my others drinking just as ferociously as you did. But anyways, yes. I changed you. With just a small bite, I’ve managed to make you immortal. Amazing right?” Yixing smiled wide, exposing two protruding sharp teeth, and Jongin was then reminded of what had transpired.

He was bitten. His eyes widened ten times their original size, slowly reaching a hand up to touch his wounds, only to gasp. It was just skin, and not a trace of the bite was left. He was so confused, and ended up making it known by emitting a small sound that was a mixture of a croak and a whimper. “Oh yeah, they’ve healed by now. I was actually quite worried you wouldn’t survive the change when you hadn’t woken up after the first two weeks, but here you are! My newest little fledgling!”

“Uh...fledgling?”

“Sure thing, son. That just means you are at the beginning stages of being a vampire.” Jongin gaped again, staring stupidly at Yixing.

“Vampire? You mean like in the stories my ma’ told me? Like Dracula, and stuff?”

Yixing seemed to get annoyed, rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation. “Humans and their myths. Bozos.” Jongin knew it was true but he couldn’t bring himself to accept the possibility that he was now dead. He was about to ask about his family when he remembered what the other had said.

“Two weeks? How long was I asleep?!” he exclaimed, staring wide eyed at Yixing. Said male scrunched his eyes in thought, lips curving slightly.

“Let’s see...four...no….a month, month and a half?”

Jongin’s jaw went slack, opening and closing in shock. He had been asleep for that long, and he didn’t wake at all? One thought came to mind: his family, and friends. As if reading his mind, the latter broke the short silence.

“Oh don’t worry, they’ve given up. Believe me, it was hard hiding the guilt when I went in public, but they gave up after the first few weeks. They all think you’re dead, but nope. Funny, huh?” Yixing began laughing uncontrollably as Jongin sat in disbelief.

His family and friends gave up?

A wave of emotion washed over him as he unconsciously curled in on himself. His mind was in such a mess right now, too many thoughts racing through his mind and body. He felt abandoned. Overwhelmed. Unloved. Small sobs wrenched from his throat, tears already pouring from his eyes. Yixing, noticing the fledgling’s state, stopped laughing instantly. He tried putting his hand on the younger, only to receive a harsh slap, which was a lot stronger than he’s used to considering Jongin has a lot of strength in the beginning stage. “Jongin-”

“Get. Out.” Yixing actually felt frightened from the cold, poison laced tone of voice, almost cowering. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted once again when Jongin sobbed out a scream. “Get the hell out! Th-This is all your f-fault! I...I hate you!”

Yixing’s eyes filled with tears from the outburst, but he nodded nonetheless. He knew the other would feel upset at the truth, but he was being insensitive and he knew it. He walked out of the room with his head hung in shame, tears b in his eyes as guilt settled in.

Jongin began sobbing harder into the pillows, sounds audible through the thick door. He’s never felt more broken in his eighteen years on earth.