\

CHAPTER 1

TRANSFERRING IN

 Choi Minho opened his eyes. The dream again. He had that dream three times in the past week. The dream of his first taste of blood. Since then he had never tasted blood as sweet as that. In the thirty so years that he has been a Nightling he hasn't tasted that blood. Every night he would spend it searching. He would find the most beautiful woman and feast on their blood, but as luck would have it, none of them had the blood that he craved the most and he never knew when he would find it again. Would it be a month, a year or a hundred? He didn't know. So like any other vampire, he settled for what he could get. Just call it survival.

Minho sat up in his bed clutching his blanket in his fists.

"Can a blood so sweet only come every thirty years?" He asked himself. He wasn't angry, just annoyed. Annoyed that he wasn't able to sniff out that rare blood like he did thirty years ago.

Minho planted his feet on the wooden floor, he buried his head in his palms. Happy he was still able to feel. But the moment Minho felt anything, he had to retract his happiness. When it came to moments like these, Minho was angry that he did have feeling.

Minho clenched his teeth together to muffle his scream from the burn. He brought his feet back onto the bed. The red spot on his right leg swelled then healed instantly. Sunlight seeped into the room from Minho's opened window.

He never left the curtains open. It was his older brothers sick sense of humor. He loved opening Minho's curtains at dawn before Minho put on his pendant. Even in a family of vampires the youngest is always the one to get picked on. The bad luck Minho had being born last.

Minho let out an annoyed grunt and reached over to his night stand, picking up his pendant that he always laid on top of it every night.

The pendent was two serpents wrapping around each other forming a figure eight. Their tongues slithered out of their mouths, knotting together at the ends and their scaley bodies were filled with Minho's blood.

Having some kind of link to your human life keeps you safe from the burn. Blood is more affected, seeing as blood is what keeps you alive. Even after your dead.

Minho placed the chain over his head and stuck it under his shirt. The cool metal banging against his chest. He planted his feet on the floor again, the light bringing color to his pale skin. No pain, no swelling red spots. Now Minho could easily step into the shinning sun without bursting into flames.

He pushed himself off his bed and walked over to the window. The sun hit his face, irritating his eyes. He grabbed onto each curtain and pulled them closed.

"The morning sun. How irritating!" Minho complained. He never understood why the humans were so fascinated with the ball of light. You couldn't look at it without going blind and the energy wasn't sufficient.

He sometimes wondered if he was even his parents son. They loved the sun, the feel and the shine. Minho just found it as an unnecessary waste in space. It would be better for them if the earth was nothing but black. But then the humans would be more vulnerable that way. Especially with the others out there and Minho would never be able to live with himself if that happened. After all, Minho had a soft spot for the humans.

Minho's family occupied a large Victorian home that had been vacant for years. The color was an unbearable green. Something you can see from a mile away. Like if an arrow was hoisted in the air pointing directly at their house. The sign beside the arrow would say "Look at the crazy people living in a pile of crap".

There was a huge garden out on the front lawn. His mother took it up so no one would raise any suspicion. Eventually she found gardening relaxing and loved the colors that bloomed from each flower, so she kept the hobby. Mounted on the stone wall by the front gate of their home was a metal plaque with the name Choi engraved on it.

Minho began down the steps, looking around the living room. He never once took time to take in every detail of his home. The two green chairs that took up half of the living room. Every time he looked at them he felt like vomiting. Maybe because the color was the same as his house and he had to stare at it for a decade now. He must have become allergic to the color. That was his theory anyway.

There was an old forties TV sitting on it's stand in front of the wall. It was the first TV that his parents ever bought. They didn't have the heart to give it a good chucking into the trash.

Minho ran his hand along the wall of the staircase. He traced one of the flowers with his long thin finger. The wall paper making his mothers healthy obsession with carnations visible, but no obsession is a healthy obsession. The wooden railing underneath Minho's other hand had splintered over the years. They were never good with taking care of the interior of their home.

Once Minho hit the last step he immediately turned into the kitchen, his stomach growling, calling out for food. It had been two days since he's fed.

Like any normal family, the Choi's sat around the table and ate, they just didn't like taking part in the whole "how was your day" conversation.

Usually Minho would be the first one up and the first one out, but because he was wrapped up in his dream, he had slept twenty minutes longer.

His sister Jessica sat at the table, foot on chair, working diligently on her toes while she waited for her breakfast. Her appearance was the only thing she did work on. She flicked back her long black vixen hair that kept getting in her way.

His father Chin-ho was already sipping on his coffee, reading the newspaper. He wasn't the slightest bit disturbed that breakfast was running late. His brother Jonghyun was tardy as usual. He would wake up early just to open the curtains in Minho's room, then he would crawl back under the covers again to sleep.

Minho sat on an empty chair farthest away from Jessica. She may have looked like a saint, but she was a devil in models clothing. Like Jonghyun, she enjoyed giving her little brother hell, pulling on his hair until he screamed for her to stop. Wrestling him for the biggest room every time they moved. On occasion, she would take away Minho's plate of food and finish it off along with her own, despite her petite figure. So if he didn't want his food to be snatched away, he had to sit as far away as he could.

"He did it again." Minho said calmly, taking a sip from his orange juice that was always poured before hand, slouching a bit forward in his chair in discontent.

"Then you shouldn't sleep without your pendant. Maybe that way your brother wouldn't see you as an easy target." Even his mother mocked him while she prepared three plates of food.

Minho loved hearing the stories that humans came up with about vampires not eating. But on contrare, they did eat. In fact, food was the only thing that could sustain their energy until they fed. something about the vitamins. Minho never got all of the details.

"I don't like it when I get marks on my chest from sleeping on it." Minho explained, watching his mother set a plate in front of each of them, then walking back to the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup.

The head of the family had never been much of a talker. Like every morning, he would sit at the table reading his newspaper and sipping on his coffee, watching his children and wife eat. He enjoyed it that way, but something had changed.

Chin-ho folded up his newspaper neatly, using the same creases that had been there from when his wife bought it at dawn and set it beside him. He took one final sip of his coffee.

"Eat as quick as you can, we don't want you to be late. It's your first day of high school after all." Chin-ho picked up his fork and took a bite.

Minho and Jessica's forks hit their plate. They stared at their father silently. Had they heard him right?

"School?" Jessica asked, still open from the bite she never took.

"Mom?" Minho looked at his mother, demanding an answer.

"The neighbors were getting suspicious. Wondering why our children didn't attend school like theirs. We had no choice, but to enroll you." Ga-in placed her cup in the sink after finishing off her last drops. "Things can't get hard for us. So please don't argue. We can't afford to be discovered."

"Your brother has already left for the university. Now it's time for you two to make the transition." Chin-ho said continued feasting on his breakfast.

Minho didn't look forward to school while he was still human, becoming a vampire didn't change that. Although times have changed, school was still school. There was still the hassle of learning, something Minho especially hated doing. He was a vampire, what did he really need to learn to survive?

Minho noticed himself singleing out the negatives, but did he think about the positives? It was high school. A hundred acre building full of humans, but more importantly girls. This was his opportunity to look for his personal taste and there was a fifty percent chance that it could be there.

#

Minho blinked. His eyes had been buldging out for five minutes now. Had he known that this was going to be his high school life, he would've protested until he got his way. Minho could only hope that his eyes were playing tricks on him. That they were all just figments of his imagination. He wanted to believe anything at the moment, anything than what he was really seeing.

Not real. Minho continued thinking, rubbing his eyes. His eyes had become sore from the pressure of his fist against it. The circular motion of his fist had dug deep into his eye sockets.

Just a little more and maybe I'll become blind. Minho snickered a bit at his own thought because he could actually rub his eyes until he went blind. Especially with his vampire strength, that was a hundred times the strength of a normal human.

Minho set his hands back at his sides. He rolled up[ his sleeves. Minho's uniform back when he was in school thirty years ago consisted of a white colored shirt, a blue tie and flared out blue balloon pants. Now he was wearing a white colored shirt with a navy blue and green plaid tie around his neck, a navy blue jacket with the schools crest over his heart and a pair of matching navy blue and green plaid pants.  But that's not what bothered him.

What bothered him, was that he was standing in front of the whole class, his body tensed up from the shock. He had thought that he was going to be blessed joining a class with beautiful girls, but it was quite the opposite. He was being stared down by a class full of testosterone. That's right, a class entirely made up of boys. As a matter of fact, the entire building he was in was nothing but boys.

"Listen up carefully class. We have a new transfer student joining our class." Mr. Yoon ordered from the teenagers. Mr. Yoon was a man in his forties with a receding hair line and was shorter than most of his students. He was averagely thin. He turned to Minho the moment he had every ones full attention. "Please introduce yourself."

"Good morning. My name's Choi Minho. It's nice to meet you." Minho bowed after his formal greeting.

I don't want to look. I just want to wake up. Minho thought still in his first stage of denial.

#

Lee Taemin had been staring out the window for twenty minutes now. Ever since he first took his seat. He was contemplating, trying to find a way of escape. For his mothers sake he continued attending school, otherwise he would just quit and go to work. If that's what it took for them to leave him alone.

Taemin's chin laid on his palm, his elbow sitting firmly on his desk. His eyes had not moved an inch, that was until there was a vibrating coming from his pant pocket. His attention had been pulled away. He dug into his pants and pulled out his cell phone. There weren't many people that had his number, so he could only guess who it could have been.

Taemin flipped open the phone.

Don't look so spaced out. I'm planning to have a little fun with you later. Taemin scrolled down, he didn't need to read the sender to know that it was sent by Lee Jinki better known as Onew. It was the same message he got everyday. Taemin scrolled to delete and pressed okay. He flipped the phone closed then stuffing it back into his pocket. It was best for him not to think about the fun that Onew was planning. That way he can get by the day quicker.

Taemin stared up, his eyes wondering away from him. He had not expected to meet those cold brown eyes, but none the less he did and the more he watched the colder they became. From the look of him Taemin knew what kind he was. His brown hair fell below his ears in curls. The way he wore his uniform with the tie loose and sleeves rolled up said that he didn't like following rules and the way he stood, well standing up straight was a step up from the others.

Great. Here comes another one. Taemin had enough of Onew, he didn't need another one of him.

Taemin tried his best to pull away from the gaze and when he managed to do so, he resumed his old position. His chin again rested on his palm. His eyes stared at the closed gate entrance. The class around him became silent. His own gift. The gift to tune everyone out.

How can I get out of here? Taemin's thoughts trailed off. He knew he wasn't going to find a way, so why continue thinking about it.