“So, you’re the dollface who turned heads at the bus station,” greets the waitress with a curious smile. Strawberry blonde bangs frame her youthful features. 

Distracted by the relief of alleviating her homesickness, what Chaewon has failed to remember in her decades away from home is the notorious difficulty of hiding in small towns, even for the most conformist of vampires. 

Newcomers rarely have an easy time settling into the established rhythms of a place, and St. Cyriac is no different. Foreign faces make quiet rounds in gossip circles, spreading through town less like blatant wildfire and more like its smoke. Locals appear friendly on the surface but are always wary of outsiders and their intentions for being in town. Typically, most get away with saying they’re just passing through – that their destination is not this town, but the next – and if they don’t keep to their word, they eventually get driven out by busybodies sooner or later.

“You got a name?” she prods.

Chaewon chances her a glance. 'Jiwoo' is handwritten across her nametag and she’s a near splitting image of her great-grandfather, whom Chaewon distinctly remembers as the happy-go-lucky golden retriever who sat behind her in Sunday school and always chewed gum with his teeth showing.

“It's Chaewon.”

“And what’s a girl like you, Chaewon, doing at a place like this?”

Question of the century. 

Chaewon may have spent her first twenty years gossiping like every other St. Cyriac kid, but she’s learned after living another sixty that ships are sank by loose lips.

“Just visiting,” she answers. Short and sweet, less likely to invite probing questions.

But before she can figure out if Jiwoo is hitting on her or simply being nosy, the bubbly waitress brings over to her a plate of stacked pancakes. Chaewon's eyes widen. She hasn’t tasted buttermilk flapjacks from the Sizzling Griddle in almost seven decades, she can hardly contain herself.

"Visiting?"

“I'm a student. I thought I might explore some nearby towns before going back to the city,” she hums absently, digging in as soon as the plate’s in front of her. Ever since blood became her main source of nourishment, normal food hasn’t been much more than a means of camouflage amongst humans. It doesn’t mean they stop being tasty, though. The pancakes here have always been her favourite; half the satisfaction is purely from nostalgia.

Jiwoo lifts an eyebrow. “Someone’s hungry,” she quips. “Well, there’s not much to see in St. Cyriac, love. There are better sights elsewhere. Try Entwhistle, it’s about forty minutes east. Very nice rolling hills.”

“No worries. I was born in a town like this, so I feel right at home here…” Chaewon looks up briefly to find Jiwoo staring at her, “…but I’ll check out Entwhistle next.”

She’ll probably get a near identical welcome over there, including the recommendation of a different neighbouring town. Folks around here deflect and toss visitors to each other like a game of hot potato.

Jiwoo gives her a noticeable once-over, her eyes going from Chaewon’s high ponytail to the rimless oval sunglasses perched on top of her blonde head, down to the polished cross around her neck and the flowers on her creaseless sundress.

Chaewon can tell Jiwoo’s partly skeptical and partly jealous of her get-up and gives her an innocuous smile. On second thought, she should’ve dialed down on her outfit before coming here. So much for making a quiet (re)entrance.

(She looks bangin’, though, so Chaewon will absolutely run with it.)

The bell above the entrance rings. Chaewon goes back to scarfing down her pancakes, taking a moment to thank the Lord for the interruption.

“Afternoon, Jinsoul! The regular to-go?”

“Yes, please. Don’t forget the extra syrup.”

“Of course, of course.”

Jiwoo winks and shouts an order over her shoulder, and Chaewon’s savouring her eighth bite when–

“This is Chaewon! Ain’t she pretty, Jinsoul?”

Chaewon holds back a sigh. She had been hoping in vain that she’d finally be left alone to enjoy her meal. Reluctantly, she tears her eyes away from her plate, but when she sees the waiting customer, her glance turns into a double take.

Suddenly, everything around her feels paused, like a bizarre hitch in time. 

Huh… What an unmistakable face. The air of familiarity around the woman is unpalpable, despite this being their first meeting. Perhaps this Jinsoul felt something too, some flicker in her synapses, because she’s looking at Chaewon in a similar way, a slight bemusement behind the glint in her eye.

And then Chaewon spots the silver cross resting between Jinsoul’s collar bones and clarity hits her in a second. Vampire hunter, which means… She snaps out of it and instantly dons a guileless smile, the same kind she gave the waitress. 

Jinsoul’s puzzled expression disappears with a blink and she greets back with a grin of her own. “Very pretty.”

“You guys are too kind,” Chaewon replies brightly.

“I’m Jinsoul, nice to meet you.”

(Jinsoul is pleasant and pretty. Looking at her, Chaewon can’t help the strange swell of vanity and pride she feels inside.)

“She goes to school in the city and wanted to check out our lovely little town,” Jiwoo oh-so-kindly explains.

“Oh! Welcome, then! Hope this place doesn’t bore you too much.”

Chaewon chuckles. “I doubt it will. These are already the greatest pancakes I’ve ever tasted.”

At that, Jinsoul claps her hands together and lets out a startling gasp, her smile stretching into a wide grin. “Right!? They’re amazing! Everything’s locally sourced, you know, and the buttermilk’s homemade.”

The Kims stayed true to their craft. Chaewon doesn't even need to feign her delight. "Just when I thought I couldn't be any more impressed." 

“Oh please,” Jiwoo coos, giggling, “family recipe. I’ll pass the compliments to my mother.”

Seemingly appeased by the fact that they're on the same wavelength regarding Sizzling Griddle pancakes, Jinsoul’s earlier countenance of skepticism has completely dissipated. Chaewon lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

Much to her misfortune, however, it's Jiwoo who is still fixated on vetting her thoroughly. Not that Chaewon can blame her anyway; the girl must be bored out of her mind.

“Chaewon here says she’s a small-town girl too,” she says, propping her elbows on the counter and leaning towards the two of them. Her lips shape into a mischievous grin akin to a prying housewife’s. “But she doesn’t look it, right? I mean, just look at that gorgeous dress! She's so trendy. You don’t often find girls like her around these parts, right? Everyone here wears hand-me-downs. It's so boring.” She shakes her head in disapproval. 

“I’ve just gotten used to the city, that’s all,” Chaewon answers, veiling her annoyance with an embarrassed smile.

Jinsoul chuckles. “You can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl,” she says to Jiwoo before complimenting Chaewon on how pretty her dress is. 

Teeth hinged on her bottom lip, Jiwoo leans in closer. “So, what do you study?” she asks. 

The answer is automatic: “I major in history, minoring in theology.”

“Sounds fascinating," Jiwoo answers, completely serious. 

Chaewon an eyebrow in amusement. “Usual response I get is ‘boring’.”

“Well, that’s not very polite, is it?”

“That’s a pretty cool combo,” Jinsoul pipes in, “and I wish I could stay and chat about it, but I gotta bounce. Oh, word of advice, though?" she lowers her voice, "maybe keep the theology part to yourself? Or else people here who think they're experts 'cuz they're baptized will trap you in hollow discourse."

The tip of Chaewon's lips quirks up. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. They just wanna listen to themselves talk…but you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Jinsoul grins and grabs her order after slapping some bills on the counter. But before she goes, she reaches up to give Chaewon one last pat on the back.

It's a casual gesture, but for some reason, her hand lingers. Chaewon turns to say goodbye but there's something odd in Jinsoul’s expression. It may be a kind smile to anyone else, but Chaewon’s always been more perceptive than the rest, even before she was turned, and there's a nuance to this one. The thing is, Jinsoul is good at this too. She's just as sharp and astute – as expected of a Jung, Chaewon supposes, but it makes it even harder for her to put her finger on what's wrong. 

Jinsoul takes her hand off and her expression subtly changes immediately, leaving Chaewon to second-guess what she had seen; was there really something off about her smile or did I just imagine it in a blip of paranoia?  

The whole exchange couldn’t have lasted more than a second.

“I'll see you around,” Jinsoul says, unperturbed.

Chaewon doesn’t flinch either. “See you!”

As she heads for the door, Jinsoul points a berating finger at Jiwoo and yells over her shoulder. “And you! Give her a break, will ya? She can’t enjoy the pancakes in all their glory if you’re talking her ear off!”

Jiwoo waves at her dismissively.

Chaewon watches Jinsoul hop onto a blue scooter, and then she’s gone.

Jinsoul must’ve noticed something was off about her, there's no doubt about it. But whether that something is the fact that she's a vampire or not remains to be seen. She feels safe - for now. But although Chaewon came here to see her family – and she’s more than pleased to find out that they’re still in town – she’s belatedly realising that perhaps she won’t be able to just waltz back into open arms.

It’s been decades, after all. Everyone she knew back then is either elderly or no longer around. Her progeny may not even believe her, much less accept her back. And Younghoon…oh, Younghoon! Her doting older brother, the lone person Chaewon thinks would take her in without hesitation - is he even still alive? She needs to do more scoping out. 

All of a sudden, starts to water. An all-too-familiar tingling sensation runs under her skin, setting every part of her alight.

The itching hunger persists even when she gobbles up the rest of her pancakes, inevitably turning into a hankering that has her mind hyperfocusing on only one thought. She runs her tongue across the back of her teeth when she starts to feel her canines aching to grow out.

She’s hungry. And her sanity’s threatening to slip with every second she sits here. 

Before leaving the diner, Chaewon wordlessly pays for her meal and tames her twitches enough to give a bright smile to Jiwoo.

Outside, her feet instinctively take her in the direction of the forest. She’ll have to feed herself first before deciding what to do next.  It’s impossible to think straight when she’s like this.

 

***

 

“Don’t you think Jesus could’ve been a vampire?”

Sooyoung stops fidgeting with the untorn tickets. “What?”  

“I mean, he rose from the dead. His followers drink his ‘blood’. He was harmed by silver – when Judas betrayed him – and by a cross – when he was crucified,” Jinsoul muses, "the dots are there, no?”

Jinsoul glances at her to gauge her reaction. Sooyoung only stares until she can no longer hold in her raucous laughter. “You’re insane,” she sputters, sticking her head out of the box office window to survey the twilight sky.

“Okay, I’m joking. Well, half joking, but I– what on earth are you looking for?”

“Any signs of divine retribution coming your way for saying something so blasphemous!”

Jinsoul grins. “As if you could stop it anyway if thunder suddenly strikes me down.”

“No, you're right, I wouldn’t be able to,” Sooyoung says, pulling her head back in, “but if I at least saw it coming, I could dive in between and you know, take the blow or something.”

She nudges Jinsoul with a cheeky smile, who gives her a roll of her eyes. “Real heroic, Soo,” she teases before nesting her head in her arms, her voice quieting to a murmur, “but please don’t. I think that’d be a punishment worse than my own death, honestly.”

The shift in her tone stirs a reaction somewhere within Sooyoung’s ribcage, and she can’t quite pinpoint whether it’s her hiking heartbeat, or perhaps the twisting in the depths of her stomach, or maybe even the swell of her lungs as she holds the breath she had drawn in.   

In collection, she exhales – and knowing that no strike of lightning will split the sky in half any time soon, she drapes an arm over Jinsoul’s hunched back and rests her head on her shoulder. Sooyoung finds a special kind of refuge in the fact that Jinsoul fears losing her as much she does about her. It's a dangerous spark of hope, but she relishes in it nevertheless.

It isn’t fair, though, how such fears are a constant in their heads even when they’re not doing anything remotely dangerous.

Sooyoung withdraws when she spots the mayor’s grandson walking up to their booth. He looks boyish in his rugby polo and baggy denims, and the gravel crunches under the wheels of the bike he pushes along with him.

“Uh, hey,” Hyunjae greets, ducking to get a better look at them.

Jinsoul sits up, stiffening a bit. As one normally does in unexpected run-ins with exes.

“Is Juyeon in?”

“He’s working concessions tonight with Hyejoo,” Sooyoung answers.

Hyunjae nods. In maybe an attempt to be discreet about the glances he keeps casting towards Jinsoul, he jerks on his baseball hat, pressing down sandy brown hair over flitting eyes. “Okay, cool. Thanks.” 

Sooyoung expects him to leave now, but instead, he hems and haws, kicking up dirt and staring at the ground. Jinsoul and Sooyoung use the silent moment to exchange puzzled glances with each other until finally, Hyunjae turns to Jinsoul.

“I was at the Griddle earlier and, uh, I just think you should keep an eye on that blondie.”

Sooyoung lifts an eyebrow. “Blondie?”

“Not– not that I’m telling you how to do your duty or anything,” he bumbles as if he's treading on uncharted territory, “I know it’s not my place to do like this anymore, and I don’t wanna intrude on your duties, it’s just– I'm used to being cautious, that's all. But you probably felt something weird about her too – obviously, I mean, it’s what you’re good at, so…”

“I did,” Jinsoul interjects, “but still, thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyunjae laughs awkwardly, hand palming his nape. “So, uh, I’ll head over to the concession stand then. Have a good night, you two.”

Lips pressed together in what could be a courteous smile, he gives them a wave far too graceless for someone with his looks before hopping on his bike and pedaling off.

Jinsoul resumes her lazy slouch once he’s gone. “Geez. Why can’t he just be normal?” she gripes.

Sooyoung shrugs. Arguably, Hyunjae’s got every reason to be a little frigid around her, but around Jinsoul? It’s been several years since the two broke up – amicably, supposedly, but if the way his demeanor still falters around her means anything, it seems he’s still hung up on the vestiges of their hapless relationship.

(Not that Sooyoung can blame him. He really did have some genuine feelings for her after all.

Besides, there’s just something about Jinsoul that destines her to ‘the one that got away’ status in any potential ex’s memory. That’s the way she is in Sooyoung’s head. And they’ve never even been together like that.

Not officially, anyway.)

“Who was he was talking about?”

“Oh, um. New face in town. Her name’s Chaewon.”

Sooyoung decides not to dwell on why Jinsoul hadn’t told her about this newcomer earlier. “And is your weird feeling about her a ‘she’s a vampire’ kinda weird, or ‘she’s a funny stranger’ kinda weird?”

Jinsoul leans back in her seat. “Not sure yet,” she hums conspiratorially, eyes squinting but focusing on nothing in particular, “maybe both? I don’t wanna jump the gun, it’s embarrassing when I get it wrong.”

Sooyoung feeds her a fry dipped in ketchup, successfully stealing her attention. “Well, I trust your instincts more than his. We can keep her on our radar for a few days if she sticks around.”

Jinsoul smiles. “Shouldn’t be too hard, she’s got this round face, golden hair – real pretty, like a Barbie doll, honestly – and this super cute summer dress. Bit of a rare sight around here, you know?”

“What do you mean? St. Cyriac’s got plenty of pretty faces!” Sooyoung juts a thumb at herself. “There’s one right in front of you.”

Jinsoul her head and conspicuously checks her out, eyes sweeping top to bottom. Despite inviting the perusal, Sooyoung suddenly feels her ears get warm and her head buzzing - until Jinsoul clicks her tongue.

“Hm, dunno if you can compare. She’s like, really cute, it’s almost absurd.”

Her shyness is promptly replaced by a flare of what Sooyoung can only deduce to be jealousy. She’d just hate to admit it out loud.

Seeing her pout, Jinsoul giggles and stuffs her hand in the bag of popcorn. Sooyoung lunges and grabs her wrist before she can be attacked with a torrent of stale popcorn. They lock eyes, narrowed and taunting, like two cowboys about to face off.  

“No playing with food,” warns Sooyoung. 

“It’s not food, it’s cardboard.”

“Last time we made a mess in the box office, Hyejoo threatened to fire me.”

“Saber-rattling. She says that all the time but won’t actually do it.”

“Oh, you know she scares the out of me.”

“You big baby, scared of someone who’s barely the legal drinking age?” Jinsoul goads.

Sooyoung clamps down on her bottom lip and regrets it a second too late because Jinsoul’s far too familiar with her to overlook such subtle signal of defeat.

Only a beat passes before she’s showered in popcorn, shrieking as her chest rumbles in laughter.

 

 

 

They watch the sunset together from the box office, red and orange gradually fading to black. Stars and fireflies begin to litter the darkness.  

The booth barely fits two people, but they’ve always jammed themselves in, thighs touching, chafed Skechers crushing popcorn on the floor, elbows bumping paper bags and styrofoam containers from the Griddle.

Just the way Sooyoung likes it. Like this, with Jinsoul shrouded in the muted yellow of the dimming lightbulb and the smell of butter wafting in the air, she feels most at ease.

Sooyoung keeps busy most of the time. Eating, sleeping, hunting, with the gaps filled in by shifts at the drive-in theater. Ridding the town of vampires is less a viable career and more a God-given devotion rewarded in spiritual validation rather than a salary. Luckily, Jinsoul’s family shoulders most of her bills. And at their insistence, she can’t refuse. Still, for her own sanity perhaps, she likes working at the drive-in. Her meager earnings should be spent as she likes, but she always seems to end up treating Jinsoul to pancakes at the Griddle.

Always for Jinsoul, rarely for herself; it’s the same kind of satisfaction either way when Jinsoul’s all she’s got.

And so, as trivial as it may be, Sooyoung treasures the time they spend here in idle chatter. Sporadic interruptions come in the form of lovey-dovey couples buying tickets for Titanic, or Romeo + Juliet, or whatever DiCaprio-spearheaded romantic epic hit screens a year or two ago, as well as familiar faces asking, why is Jinsoul always hanging around here? To which Sooyoung would answer ‘because she’s obsessed with me’ or whatever childish retort she thinks of on the spot.  

She treasures it the most because for once, she’s just the box office girl with the Posh Spice lob cut and snippy comebacks. A garden-variety local, not the orphaned charity case and certainly not the fearsome vampire slayer. Wanting to fit in feels like such a teenage concern, Sooyoung feels silly about it as an adult. But even grown-ups ache to belong.

It’s a glimpse of what normalcy could’ve been had she not chosen this path, one where she pulls a trigger more often than the sheriff and sees blood more often than her doctor.

Jinsoul’s on the same path, and maybe that’s why she sacrifices her nights to keep Sooyoung company. 

Whether it’s a confession booth or a cramped box office, there’s something about the intimacy of enclosed spaces that Sooyoung finds escape in, a certain freedom to create this little four-walled haven reserved for only the two of them.

“…ran into Mrs. Kim at the market, she said Jungeun’s the president of her university’s Newman Club now. Oh my god, that's so like her, right? Anyway…”

Even if all Jinsoul does inside is rattle on about her day or the people she’s seen.

Sometimes, Sooyoung wishes they’d talk about things beyond the town limits for once, but she knows that’s the stuff of dreams. This is enough.

So she listens and she pretends she’s annoyed by how talkative Jinsoul is despite the evident smile on her face. And it’s this feeling of sanctuary that reminds her of the feat she once pulled off in this very booth – the time she swallowed all her fears and properly told Jinsoul how she felt about her for the first time.

They were on the cusp of their last year of high school. It was her first confession and her first heartbreak.

Despite all she has in her today, Sooyoung has yet to gather enough courage to have a second go. She spent sleepless nights regretting that day; she can’t put herself through it again.

There’s consolation, though. The one good thing about life moving at a pace slower than the clouds is that she should have all the time in the world for an encore.

If Jinsoul will let her have it.

 

***

 

Solomon writes a verse in Ecclesiastes that goes like this: ‘what has been will be again, and what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun’.

True to the proverb, the people in town live their lives in an unadventurous cycle; a loop medicated by families and tradition, by filial expectations and predestined paths.

As a kid, Sooyoung was ambitious. She believed she was going to be a pop star, or a ballerina. Or maybe an astronaut like Neil Armstrong, a detective like Ace Ventura, or all those at once. But as the way life goes, growing up eats away at such aspirations. And soon, while zoning out in 11^th grade biology, Sooyoung would dream of just simply doing what her father did: leave St. Cyriac – except in a less dishonourable, less cowardly way. Like to attend university in a big city rather than to run away.

But even that became unrealistic. Rationality comes with maturity, something that burgeons exponentially when you put a crossbow in the hands of a vulnerable and angry teenager and ask her to shoot at this figure–

This figure that looks exactly like a sobbing little girl, except the imposing voice behind her shoulder persistently tells her it isn’t that; it’s a monster, a horror, a tainted soul in need of purification! You have to save her! It yells forcefully until the voice inside Sooyoung’s head echoes the exact same sentiment.

She hit bullseye on her first attempt.

And when she turned to find Mr. Jung looking at her with so much satisfaction and pride in his eyes, Sooyoung felt what it was like to be a daughter again.

Even if he was the man who pulled the trigger on her mother– no, no, her tailored conscience corrects her, not her mother but a monster. Right, a monster. Not just her mother, but a tainted soul whose death she must spend the rest of her life avenging.

Sooyoung trained and trained until hunting was the only thing she knew how to do. And just like that, she was injected into the cyclical monotony of St. Cyriac.

She’s still ambitious, somewhere inside, but they say a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush: she’s got a family now, and a purpose. Most importantly, she’s got Jinsoul. Unequivocally.

And for Sooyoung, if there’s anything that can challenge the so-called futility of existence on earth that Solomon so poetically preaches in his writings, it would be the mere presence of Jinsoul in her life.

 

***

 

Chaewon had sated her thirst thoroughly with little inconvenience. The stragglers don't loiter and fool around in the forest until at least nightfall, giving her all the freedom to feed in peace. She brushes away some dirt on her dress and now, as she trudges up main street, she can't help but reminisce.

The five-and-dime with a striped canopy torn up from summer storms has been replaced by a Dairy Queen. The theatre – where, in the dark, she first held another girl’s hand! – still stands, but the marquee no longer boasts vaudeville acts and silent films for twenty-five cents a ticket. The road, now properly paved, is shared by pickup trucks and unsecured bicycles rather than shabby horse-drawn carriages and model Ts.  

It’s weird how much can change in a few decades in such a slow-going town, yet the feeling of home never really goes away, no matter how many other corners of the world she has lived in.

But it’s only because of the time she has spent away that Chaewon’s able to see past the surface and find that certain things haven’t faded entirely to time, things that are just integral to the way of life and will carry on for as long as the same families stick around. Things like gossip, or going to church every Sunday, or lifting your nose at anyone who looks different.

She feels it even while she’s walking. She smiles at a passerby and he smiles back, but Chaewon doesn’t miss the way his eyes scan her for a moment too long. Chaewon gets it, though. She can't bark ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer!’ at nosy strangers here like she can in the city. St. Cyriac is safe, for the most part, but the town’s been rocked by vampires before. The apprehension is seemingly ingrained in their parochial attitudes.

People are cagey. They're vigilant. Intensely protective over their sense of security.

Which is why she gets it when someone stares at her a little suspiciously or looks over their shoulder when she passes. She gets why Jiwoo at the Griddle or the attendants at the train station treat her with sugar-coated hospitality.

And most of all, she gets the pair of eyes trailing her wherever she goes.

Jinsoul and her partner are good. Careful, too. They watch with practiced ease and follow minutely like a shadow. She feels their eyes, but it’s like she can never really be sure if they're there or not. 

But Chaewon has also played this game countless times before, and she’s been both the cat and the mouse. She doesn't dare try to find their eyes, for it'll only add to the suspicion. She’s familiar with these tricks – she did them in the past – and she can lose them if she needs to. 

However, she didn’t come all this way only to run away again. Maybe it sounds counterproductive, but if she wants any chance of finding her brother and earning back that feeling of security, she’ll have to turn herself in.

Not yet, though.

With that resolution, Chaewon lets the eyes follow. She walks with purpose, humming a tune to herself as she eyes the public library from behind her sunglasses - her hot, wicked, stylin’ Gaultier sunglasses. 

If she’s finally going to get caught by some goddamn vampire hunters after evading them for decades, it’s going to happen at her pace and at her discretion.