This did not come out quite the way I wanted it to.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An old bronze plate hanging on the wall, Cell Number 0013.

Jung Jinyoung tugged at the metal chains binding his wrists and ankles, but it was useless. He was weak, he was far too weak, and the rough metal chafed his pale skin, leaving red angry rings, marks of his enslavement. It had been three weeks since he was brought in drugged and beaten within an inch of his life and dumped in this tiny one room cell, a poor excuse for a prison.

Three weeks since he had been captured, tortured and punished.

Three weeks since he had last seen the moonlight.

Three weeks since he had last tasted blood.

The lack of nourishment was the obvious reason for his weakness, and it certainly didn’t help that one of his captors, a particularly bulky and ugly-looking man, had enjoyed emptying the contents of his rifle into Jinyoung’s body. He felt each bullet tear his skin and pulverize his ribs, felt each kick and stab and punch, always a tiny step closer to death and freedom, yet always a tiny step too far.

Sometimes immortality .

He knew the faces of his captors well. He had seen them through bruised and swollen eyes and his infallible vampire mind had forever etched them to his memory. When he gets out—if he gets out, his mind supplies wryly, because while Junghwan’s loyalty is commendable, his clumsiness is an insult to the vampire community and who knows, maybe the poor bastard had gotten himself captured too and was waiting for Jinyoung to come save him instead of the other way around—they will pay, each and every one of them.

He tugs at the chains experimentally and yep, that was a stupid idea, he thinks as he feels the chains dig deeper into his skin. He takes a moment to survey his surroundings because you never know, one of those humans might actually leave something lying around, something unassuming and seemingly harmless, but could be used to get himself out of this hell hole.

The reek of rust and death assails his nostrils, a foul scent that made him want to gag (again, curse his heightened senses that made everything a thousand times worse than it was to the humans). That was only to be expected, with the faces his captors had, he couldn’t really expect any of them to have sweet scented blood.

Except…

There was one among those offensive faces, a tall, round-faced, solemn-eyed boy who fit well into the background despite his size. Jinyoung found himself looking into the boy’s eyes, wide and frightened behind the large spectacles he wore and the boy stares back, unable to look away. The boy’s hand tremble and Jinyoung smiles to reassure him—which, by the way, his brain reminds him, is stupid, you’re the one being beaten up and he’s just standing there looking ready to pee his pants or run away screaming and he’s with them, he’s one of them and you’re reassuring him? He smiles anyway.

A boot then connects with his stomach—damn, that hurts—and about half his breath whooshes out. He takes small breaths to recover it, detecting something sweet through the thick, rancid air.

Cherry-chocolate, and maybe a hint of spring flowers.

The men file out, having exhausted their pleasure in  torturing him, and the boy hastens to flatten himself against the wall, out of their way.

“Tie him up,” one of them barks. “Make sure the scum doesn’t get away.”

The boy nods and grabs some chains from an old box lying on one corner of the filthy room. He then proceed to tie Jinyoung up, shackling his battered body to the wall, careful not to touch any of Jinyoung’s cuts and bruises and wounds—tries anyway, because Jinyoung groans as the boy touches a particularly deep bullet wound.

“Sorry,” the boy breathes, and the sincerity in his voice is what makes Jinyoung open his eyes to look at him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m…fine,” Jinyoung says, and the boy grimaces, casting a pointed look at the various injuries decorating his body. “What’s your name?”

The boy’s eye brow rises nearly to his hairline and Jinyoung coughs out a laugh, blood bubbling from the corner of his mouth as he did so, clearly asking him how he could even be interested in the boy’s name with all he’s gone through. Jinyoung shrugs in response and tries not to groan out loud when the simple action send a white hot line of pain across his back.

“D-Dongwoo.”

Dongwoo’s eyes capture his own and for a moment Jinyoung loses himself in its endless depth before and a rough-What the devil is taking you so long down there, Dongwoo-reaches their ears and they both flinch and then Dongwoo’s warmth around his hands are gone, replaced by cold metal and Jinyoung is left to stare at the blank wall.

#

It’s Dongwoo who keeps him alive for the next few days. Little scraps of raw meat are slipped into his mouth and Jinyoung eagerly bleeds it dry, tiny amounts of blood being better than nothing. The men still come night after night, drinking and laughing and beating him up, celebrating his capture. Jinyoung is relieved to hear Junghwan has not been captured after all, although Dongwoo informs him a certain brown-haired vampire has been spotted the day before at midnight, scouting the place and tripping over some sandbags before disappearing (that’s Junghwan, all right, the stupid, loyal git).

It’s Dongwoo who stays over hours after the drunk soldiers leave, attempting to heal some of his wounds with a smuggled first aid kit. Dongwoo has apparently decided that Jinyoung is harmless, and Jinyoung is both annoyed and irrationally pleased.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he informs Dongwoo one time. He’s right, and they both know it. The nightly beating goes on, and new wounds are added every day, so it doesn’t matter. And besides, he’s a vampire, the automatic cell regeneration is an enormous help, although the process is slow and annoying. He wants to ask Dongwoo for more blood but fears how Dongwoo would react.

Dongwoo nods but continues applying salve on a stab wound anyway.

#

Jinyoung isn’t really worried about the beatings. He’s used to it, and his body has become mercifully numb so he does not react to pretty much anything (which, he thinks, is what annoys the guards, they’ve only kicked him around a couple times tonight). He’s more concerned about Dongwoo. Just last night he heard a couple of guards talking about the disappearance of some medical supplies, and he wonders just how long Dongwoo can stay unnoticed.

He’s also concerned about his preoccupation with Dongwoo’s lips and shoulders, he had been staring at them while Dongwoo was attending to his injuries.

#

The next night Jinyoung finds out that Dongwoo feels the same way.

He figured it out halfway through the second time Dongwoo pressed his lips against his.

He bites Dongwoo’s lips by accident and marvels at the taste of his blood.

Cherry-chocolate.

#

Jinyoung is pressed down on the floor, and he grits his teeth, willing himself not to make a single sound as larger chains squeeze his body. Tears, red and thick run down the side of his face, and his captors’ laughter fill the room.

More needles are stabbed into his arms.

Jinyoung drifts, images of a smiling Dongwoo dancing behind his eyelids.

#

His captors discover that blood can make Jinyoung do a lot of things.

He writhes and snaps and roars, still tied by chains.

His teeth snag something soft and warm and he stops.

Cherry-chocolate.

Dongwoo, clutching his bleeding hand and staring at Jinyoung with frightened eyes.

“Tie him up,” he hears Dongwoo say to the man beside him. The man nods respectfully.

#

Every one is wearing white.

Jinyoung sits in the middle of a padded room, cloth binding his arms to his body.

Outside he sees Dongwoo wearing a white coat, large spectacles hiding beautiful eyes.

He sees Dongwoo write something on a clipboard. There's gauze wrapped around his hand.

Jinyoung hears a couple of words before he leaves, but the message is clear.

#

Two orderlies walk across the empty hallway, muttering among themselves.

“Same as ever, still thinks he’s a vampire.”

Another joins in, and they talk about just how crazy Patient No. 0013 was.