Taehyung woke without his shirt and curled on the cold pavement. He was sweating, his body on fire; everything seemed to radiate from his chest. He rolled onto his back with a low moan, his body sore and screaming for him to be still. Even his eyelids felt stiff as he blinked them open slowly.

The full moon was high in the black canvas of night and, for some reason, that registered in Taehyung’s mind that it must be a little after three in the morning. The last he remembered, it was about ten o’clock when he had settled down in the graveyard to work.

The graveyard.

He sat up, too quickly, his head spinning, his stomach lurching. He looked around. His canvas was still blank and intact, his pencil had rolled in the dewey grass. His toolbox of brushes, paints, charcoal, his life was untouched. His shirt was folded neatly beside him, a small note pinned to it. The writing was neat, cute, feminine.

Thanks for a good time. See you soon, handsome.

“What the is this?” he mumbled as he stared at the pretty lettering. Whoever it was would need to learn the that even the smallest prick into his expensive clothing was unacceptable. He carefully removed the safety pin and note, setting it on the canvas so that he could shrug his shirt back on. He didn’t remember taking it off in the first place.

He didn’t notice the marks on his chest.

He reached for his phone next, swiping through the notifications. He stopped at the fourteen missed calls from his roommate and frantic texts of “where are you” and “are you okay” and “if you’re dead, i’ll bring you back to life so i can kill you again.”

A cold wind swirled the fallen leaves around the trimmed lawn and headstones. It was a wind that should have sent a nauseating chill to Taehyung’s bones, but it felt more like a gentle, warm beach breeze. The thought was pushed from his mind as he remembered the woman, her plump s and flawless legs, her tempting eyes and y smell. His crotch immediately began to swell and he groaned. His chest still hurt.

His phone buzzed with another text. “if you don’t answer in the next five minutes i will call the cops.”

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. Jimin had a knack for being dramatic, but he meant well. Taehyung went into Jimin’s contact, saved as Chimichanga, and pressed his phone to his ear. For sitting in the cold for so long, it should not have felt warm against his skin.

“You’re alive?”

“I’m calling from beyond the grave—” Taehyung started.

“ you, Taehyung.”

“—to let you know you cannot have my Gucci collection.”

“Prick.” The relief in Jimin’s voice eased the pain radiating from Taehyung’s chest.

“Why are you worrying so much? You know how I get when I work.”

“How often do you paint in a graveyard?”

Taehyung laughed. “Good point. I may have dozed off a bit. I’m packing up now.”

“Can I still call the cops? You’re technically trespassing.”

“Sure.” Taehyung reached for his pencil and tucked it over his other ear. “I’ll make sure that I use your car as collateral on my bail money.”

“Prick.” Jimin’s soft giggle was soothing even after he cut the call off.

Taehyung gathered his things, and stood up. He had mastered the delicate balance of carrying too many art supplies in his arms, making it look easier than it actually was. Everything didn’t feel quite as heavy as normal. His chest still ached, but he ignored it as he loaded his truck and drove back to his dorm.

Jimin was hunched over his desk, anatomy book propped open to the a diagram of the cardiovascular system. Lines of red and blue curved and twisted inside of a grey silhouette of the human body. Taehyung’s mouth began to water as his tired eyes followed the arteries in the thighs, arms, neck. Sinking his teeth in would give the most blood, the loudest screams of pain.

“You okay?” Jimin’s voice pulled Taehyung back. He nodded and set his stuff on his bed. “You look like . You’re pale and clammy. Are you getting sick?”

“Don’t ‘doctor’ me, Chim,” Taehyung snapped. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so irritable. Maybe he was hungry? His stomach felt empty and his chest was still hurting.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m not feeling myself, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?” Jimin made his way over. He felt Taehyung’s forehead and frowned. He massaged Taehyung’s neck and something set his lips deeper. He pressed two fingers to the vein in Taehyung’s wrist, his eyes darting to his watch, and counted before stepping back.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re dead cold to the touch and your heart rate is dangerously low. How did you drive here? How are you even standing?”

“Dangerously low?” Taehyung rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt off and tossed it to his hamper. Jimin gasped.

“What is that?”

“What is what?” He looked down. His chest had been on fire since the moment he opened his eyes in the graveyard, but now he understood why. There were marks in an oval pattern on his chest that looked like the imprint of human teeth. Where the canines should have been were two wounds deep enough that even Taehyung knew there should have been a pool of blood around him when he had woken up. There was a deep red lipstick kiss in the middle.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No. I'm going to is my bed.”

“You could have died with where that’s located. How deep is th—”

“Jimin, I’m alive. Can I just sleep?”

“What happened?”

“Paint brush accident?”

“Very funny. If I let you sleep now, even against my better judgement, will you go to the hospital in the morning?”

“I’ll consider it.” Taehyung’s face twisted in exaggerated irritation as he stripped out of his jeans and into basketball shorts. He cleared off his bed, setting his supplies on his desk and situated his canvas on the easel. He climbed up onto his bunked bed, settling down for a hard, restless sleep.

---

He slept through his first alarm to shower. His second alarm woke him but only enough to remind him he had class in forty-five minutes. He turned it off, the effort to reach for his phone making him moan. He felt like his arms were ten times heavier than normal. His mind was hazy. His stomach rumbled in hunger. His chest wasn’t hurting anymore.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. It was too warm in his room. He scratched the back of his head and yawned, forcing his legs over the edge of his bed. He slide down his lofted bed and fumbled to reach for his lamp. His hand caught the line of sun peeking through the curtains as he did and it burned as if someone were holding a lighter against his skin. He jumped back and cursed, hand yanking on the cord of the lamp and pulling off his desk. It felt to the floor, the light bulb shattering.

He didn’t care about the racket as he stared at the burn on his hand. He watched the skin knit together and heal at an ungodly, scarless speed.  

“You can’t do anything gracefully, can you?” Jimin whined from his pile of blankets. Taehyung looked up and smiled.

“Just burned myself. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” His roommate sat up slowly, strong arms stretching above his head.

“How’d you burn yourself?” he asked, voice strained in a yawn. “You literally just woke up.”

“The sun.”

Jimin tilted his head, tired eyes narrowed in a threat Taehyung was all too familiar with. He had learned to hold the sarcasm until after breakfast because of that look.

“I’m not kidding, Jimin. I watched it on my hand disappear too.”

“You’ve sniffed too much paint.” Jimin hopped down from his bed, landing with athletic precision that Taehyung had always been envious of. He held out his hand, fingers wiggling, the all-too-familiar gesture of give me your hand and shut the up because I know more than you.

“Your fingers are really cold. You still look pale.” Jimin moved his hands to Taehyung’s neck, fingers pressed to his jugular. “Your heartbeat is really slow still. How you’re functioning is a miracle.” His eyes darted down. “That’s already healed. It’s just a scar. Were you bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“I’m going to class.”

“No, you’re going to the hospital, remember?”

“Jimin, I’m swear I’m fine. And Peter Parker still went to class after he was bitten by a spider. Why can’t I?” Taehyung brushed passed his roommate to go to his wardrobe. His left foot stepped into the line of sunlight on the floor and he howled, falling back into the shadows. He watched his skin sizzle for a moment before going back to normal.

“What the —”

“Can you develop a severe allergy to the sun overnight?” Taehyung asked, looking up at Jimin and unable to hide the fear this time.

Jimin stared at his roommate for a moment and shook his head before walking out of the dorm, leaving Taehyung confused and cowering under his desk.

---

Taehyung watched as the lines of sunlight moved across the floor of his dorm room. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he felt light-headed, irritable, scared. His throat was dry and scratchy; he had never felt so thirsty. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why Jimin just left him, but he was too afraid to know why at this point. It wasn’t until the two-in-the-afternoon sun finally left his room in completely in shadows that he finally climbed out, stretching his stiff limbs. He reached for his phone and climbed back onto his bed, reading through his messages.

NamJOON of Doom

you weren’t in class today? it was nice not having you answer all the questions. got to prove i’m actually the smart one. :P
jimin said you weren’t feeling well, though. hope you get better soon, man. :(
if you need anything, let me know. <3

JungSoup

did u finish the fear painting assignment thing for tommorrow? mine is so im gunna reserve a studio for tonite if u wanna join me. u know how creepy they are at night.
nvm jimin hyung told me ur sick pls dont come and make me sick
ur prolly jus hungover arent u hyung pls come cuz i dont wanna be alone with the studio ghost

Moldy Suga

you missed class. don’t die pls

He could feel the weight of everything lifting just a bit as he filtered through his friends’ messages. Everything felt almost normal. Even with Jimin’s reminder that something didn’t make sense, he found a way to find relief.

Chimichanga

sorry to bolt like i did. i’m going to help you figure this out.
i know how to help. sit tight and stay out of the sun.
if you’re going to die it’s going to be on my operation table and it will look like an accident ;)
no way the sun is going to get you first

Everything faded away when he got to the next text.

Unknown Number

Meet me in the graveyard tonight. Our spot. You know the one. 11 o’clock.
I will explain everything to you, handsome.

The woman from the night before came to mind, her perfect, alluring body; her smokey feline eyes; her soft, sultry voice. His hand pressed against his chest, over the two scars on his chest and the faded red kiss mark.

He knew she was the reason this was happening but he wanted her back, wanted to be around her, learn from her. He felt drawn to her, connected in unexplainable ways.

Taehyung jumped when he heard doorknob rattle, cowering under the blankets on his bed. He didn’t understand why he was so jumpy.

“Jimin?”

His roommate walked in followed by a small, mature looking woman with short, blonde hair.

“Taehyung, this is my cousin, Choa. This is my roommate that got himself bitten by a vampire.”

“Vampire?” Taehyung asked. The other two ignored him.

“I’ve heard a lot more about you than just that, I promise,” she said with a friendly smile. Her presence was far more nurturing than Taehyung expected. She bowed to him before she made her way over to his desk. She delicately moved his toolbox to the side, setting her purse down.

“Jimin, what’s going—”

“She’s going to help, Taehyung.”

“How?” he asked as he watched the woman pull the largest bottle of sunscreen he’d ever seen from her bag.

“Doctors run in the family, but I am the black sheep that has her master’s in paranormal studies. I know more about your physiology now than future-doctor-conformist over here.” She pulled at hat out with rounded bill out of her bag.

“When you’re old and having heart problems from sleeping in haunted buildings your entire life, who will you go to?”

“Don’t trust him,” Taehyung said with a grin, sliding off his bed and landing on his feet with grace he’s never had before. Something about her presence was making him feel relaxed. “He’s always telling me that he’s going to make my surgical death look like an accident.”

Jimin rolled his eyes as Choa snickered. “He’ll have a hard time of that now, won’t he,” she said, patting his shoulder. She was much smaller up close. Taehyung could hear her heart beating. She smelled metallic and warm, making his mouth water and his throat ache.

“What’s happening to his eyes?”

“He’s hungry, Jimin. Why do you think I asked you to steal blood from my dad’s clinic on the way back?”

“Oh, right. I left the cooler in the car. Please don’t eat my cousin while I’m gone, Taehyung.”

He blinked and turned to look at Jimin, his head spinning. He hadn’t heard anything his roommate had said.

“What’s happening to me?” Taehyung asked as he watched Jimin leave their room. Choa reached up to touch his cheek and he could feel the blood pulsing in her palm. His eyes rolled closed and he took a deep breath. She smelled so… delicious.

“You need to eat, sweetie. Jimin will be back with something that will help settle your stomach. That will help with your anxiety.”

Taehyung nodded and leaned against his desk. She smiled and reached for his hand. She felt for his pulse in his wrist before feeling again in flat of his elbow, then at his neck. The closer she came to him, the more he could hear the sound of heart beating. He knew it was hers. She smelled delicious.

The sound of Jimin barreling back into the dorm room pulled Taehyung back.

“Do you know who turned you, Taehyung?” Choa asked softly as Jimin set a cooler next to her. She opened it up and pulled a plastic bag out, red liquid sloshing in it. She handed it to Taehyung.

“I remember her, but I never met her until last night,” he said as he stared at the bag. There was a cap on it where the line, connected to a needle, had carried their blood in. The small twinge of guilt was a flicker on his conscious compared the rumble in Taehyung’s stomach. He opened the cap and brought it to his lips, squeezing gently as if he were drinking from a juice box.

Taehyung had never tasted anything more delicious in his life. It was cold, but it didn’t matter the temperature when he could himself going back to normal with every luxurious swallow.

“Conversions aren’t very common anymore, right, unless there is a direct threat to the current population,” Jimin said, looking at his cousin. “Is there anything that you’re aware of going on?”

Choa shrugged. “I heard something about animal attacks, but that was on the other side of the country. The images I saw definitely didn’t come from an animal, though. I do have a connection with the local coven but they haven’t mentioned anything to me.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asked.

“It could mean anything, kiddo. I’ll keep in touch with you and check up on you, answer any question you have as best as I can.” She touched Taehyung’s cheek again, in a motherly way, her eyes suddenly sad, as he continued to the bag dry. “But you’ve got a rough road ahead as you adjust, especially if you don’t know who turned you.”

---

Taehyung had to convince Jimin that he was perfectly fine going out on his own. The sun itself had completely set for the evening and he still needed to finish his assignment. He had the sunscreen and hat that Choa had brought packed in, just in case he wound up staying out all night, and her instructions to reapply as often as every 30 minutes, depending on the sun’s intensity and Taehyung’s comfort level. It would prevent his skin from burning visibly, but he’d still feel the sun more than ever before. It was all he could do until the semester ended and he could adjust his schedule.

He texted Jungguk back, letting him know that he would come to the studio with him. He packed his things, Jimin watching apprehensively.

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Jimin, I’ll be fine. I’m just paining.”

“Did you eat?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and held up the insulated lunch box that he had kept stored under his desk. He never thought he’d actually use it.

“If you’re going to have to kill a human, though, Jungguk would be a good start. You’d be making the world a better place…” Jimin smirked and crossed his arms. He acted as if he hated Jungguk, but everyone knew that they were close.

Taehyung didn’t respond, though. The thought of having to feed on a human for survival wasn’t something he had really thought about. He didn’t want to; the stollen blood bags were bad enough.

“Be careful, okay.”

“Promise,” Taehyung said as he walked out of their room. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should go. But he hoisted his canvas bag up his shoulder and started down the hall. He had to keep some normalcy in his life.

He started at the moon as he made his way across campus. There were still tricklings of pink and orange on the horizon, but the sun was completely gone. The moon was too bright. He knew just from the location of it that it was just past 9:30. He only had about ten hours of freedom to exist before he was bound to the shadows. He didn’t know how he knew that.

The smell of the art studios was always a comfort for Taehyung. He felt his muscles relax and his mind clear of everything as he made his way inside and through the halls to the studio Jungguk booked. He was home in his art, knowing that nothing would strip away his joy of creating something from nothing but pigment and paper.

“Took you long enough,” Jungguk huffed as Taehyung slipped inside the small room. There was already an easel set up for him.

“Got held up with Jimin. Just a bit concerned with how I was this morning.”

“You’re okay, though? Not contagious?”

Taehyung laughed. “Only if I bite you.”

Jungguk rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Taehyung watched him dip his brush into a deep red oil paint, making his mouth water. It looked like blood. He stepped forward, eyes not leaving the color, his nose picking up the smell of something metallic. He could hear a resting heartbeat, pumping delicious blood; Taehyung wanted to hear it; he want to feel blood trickle rhythmically into his mouth with his teeth clamp hard on Jungguk’s neck.

“You sure you’re okay, hyung?”

Taehyung blinked and stared at Jungguk for a moment. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. Sorry.”

He pulled out his blank canvas. He stared at the few faint pencil lines of the gravestone he’d been staring at the night before, when his biggest fear was still death. Taehyung was pretty sure his biggest fear was his own reflection now, a creature he didn’t recognize anymore, a creature that wasn’t exactly alive.

He set it on the easel, taking in everything he remembered about the night before. He was so sure he’d finish, so inspired by the name and dates on the stone. Then she showed up. Taehyung touched his chest as she flooded his mind. She was so y, so easy to talk to, so easy to trust. She told him it was a big mistake to trust her, but he didn’t think so at the time.

The text message came back to mind. She had to have been the one to send it. He didn’t remember anyone else that night, not even a security guard. She had to be the one that turned him. And she wanted to meet him at eleven.

He pulled out his phone, looking at the time. 9:45. He could leave and come back. How long would Jungguk be there? Would he have time to finish his assignment if he left? Why should he even go. He didn’t need anything explained to him; he had Choa that did that. Right?

He glanced at the canvas again. Painting a headstone, painting death as his greatest fear, it seemed foolish now. He dipped into his toolbox, pulling out his eraser. He’d paint what he had become. He’d paint her.