for bubble-tea831;; (3096 words)

Sungyeol wondered if it was just human nature to reflect on your life when one was so close to death. Did everyone feel this way in their final moments? Was it natural for him to look back and wonder about all the things he could have done differently?

Some regrets were small, like how he should have asked out his super hot and totally in the closet tutor when he was a freshman, because he had always wanted to make out with one of his hyungs. Others were trivial, like how he should have taken the time to learn how to make those Oreo cupcakes his mom used to bake for the school fundraisers. And some regrets were big, like how he wished he would have had the guts to tell his father that he didn’t want to grow up and take over the family business; he should have been honest about his dream of being an actor, he should have changed his major from finance to theater and actually enjoyed his last couple years of college.

But instead he had played it safe, he was the good son he was expected to be and in the end, it hadn’t really mattered because he still ended up here. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, it was all a series of unfortunate events that had eventually lead to his demise. He wasn’t supposed to go to the club tonight, he had a huge accounting test coming up on Monday, and he had sworn to stay inside for the entire weekend in order to prepare for it. But boredom had gotten the best of him somewhere around chapter three, and he had called up his best friend to save him from his vicious textbook.

Dongwoo was a dancer, practically lived in the clubs downtown, spending the majority of his free time in darkly lit rooms owning the dance floor. This particular night there was a dance competition in one of the seedier parts of town, but location never deterred Dongwoo from his passion; as long as there was music, he could dance. By the time Sungyeol called him he was already at the venue, the bass loud in his ears through the phone as he tried to make out directions. Dongwoo offered to send his boyfriend out to try and meet Sungyeol but he had declined, assuring his best friend that he was capable of finding the place on his own.

He really should have taken him up on that offer.

Sungyeol’s arms were starting to go numb, the wrists shackled to either side of the bed post forcing his arms to extend at an uncomfortable position. It was pathetic really, how easily Sungyeol had been taken. He was never really that athletic and had avoided all offers to go to the gym with his best friend - another regret to add to his continuously growing list. One moment he was staring at the GPS on his phone, walking through the alleyways trying to find the club, and the next he was being pushed inside of an unmarked van. He didn’t even manage to get a hit in on his kidnapper - again, pathetic - and a firm punch to his cheek and a chloroform cloth over his mouth deemed him useless.

When he came to he was strapped to the bed like this, his clothes not so mysteriously missing as there was really only one thing that could result from all of this. They had pulled back his long brown hair into a messy ponytail, perhaps to show off his face. The sheets had almost been artfully placed on top of his body, just barely covering his lower half and the more intimate parts of him.

Sungyeol wondered briefly what he had done to deserve this.

He had never been a cruel person, in fact he was one of the more genuinely nice people in the world. He was a social butterfly of sorts, had tons of friends that would miss him when he was gone. Sungyeol closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill through. There was no use in crying; anyone that had brought him here, had drugged him and tied him up like this, obviously would have no sympathy for tears.

The blood had started to dry around his wrists already; when he woke up his initial reaction had been panic, he had tugged and tugged on his bindings as if that would help him break free. Of course his efforts had been in vain, but he still had to try. That seemed like forever ago, and now he was simply just waiting.

He wondered if his captors knew just how agonizing the waiting was, being strung up and put on display, but with no explanation as to why. Hell, they could keep him like this for days until they decided they were in the mood to play with him.

Why me? He wanted to scream, each of his thoughts growing more gruesome in nature at all the possibilities of what they could do to him. But Sungyeol was a realist; he knew that the moment that bedroom door opened in front of him that it wouldn’t matter what he said or how he pleaded. If someone had taken things this far, had knocked him out so they could tie him down with no difficulties, then nothing he could say would be capable of gaining him his freedom.

Acceptance.

A strange sort of calm started to settle over him, even through the panic and the regrets and the fear. He would die here today and there was a sort of finality to that statement that made everything else seem trivial. Perhaps instead of begging for his life, he should simply ask for mercy… for it to be quick.

His eyes opened wide at the sound of the door unlocking, the panic in his system making his body go tense. He couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of person would walk through that door, what kind of monster could do this to someone.

And even if he would have guessed, the reality was nothing that Sungyeol could have been prepared for. It was a man, dressed in an elegant all black suit, his jet black hair pushed up off of his face. He was beautiful, unnaturally so with the palest porcelain skin spread across sharply cut features. But it was his eyes, his blood red eyes that stole Sungyeol’s breath out of his lungs.

Sungyeol had been expecting a monster… but not quite like this.

“W-what are you?” His voice sounded small and frail, even to his own ears. The man locked the door behind him, walking slowly up to the bed where Sungyeol was bound. He could feel the man’s eyes as they ran over his body, his fingertips running along the bed as he got closer. “Tell me.” Sungyeol bit out, the small bits of adrenaline making him a little bold.

The red eyes flickered up to his face, staring at him curiously. “Interesting.” He muttered, his hand moving up to Sungyeol’s body, tracing up his torso. “Usually the first thing humans do in your predicament is ask if I’m going to kill them, or beg for me to let them go. But instead of worrying about yourself, you ask about me. Very interesting indeed.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Sungyeol reminded him, and a smile spread across the man’s face.

“I’m a vampire.”

Sungyeol blinked at that, his arms shifting restlessly in their shackles. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to rest on the pillow.

Acceptance.

“Okay.” He whispered, taking a deep breath in to calm himself. “I’m not going to waste time fighting when it’s useless. Please just-” He opened his eyes, feeling a small bit of prid