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#Financial Accounting#Lead generation#Accounting Services USA#Database Generation#Lease Abstraction#Payroll Outsourcing.#End to End Recruitment#Recruitment Process#Recruitment Sourcing Service#Recruitment Screening Service#Recruitment audit#Job posting
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#quotefortheday #ThomasDrummond #CivilEngineer . . . “Property has its duties as well as its rights. – Thomas Drummond, Civil Engineer . . .
#Springbord#commercialrealestate#fasb#iasb#abstraction#administration#management#cam#lease#Reconciliation#audit#property#accounting#services#outsourcing
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Expert Commercial Real Estate Analyst: Driving Profitable Investments
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An Expert Commercial Real Estate Analyst is a professional who possesses the necessary knowledge and skills to analyze market trends, property values, and financial data to drive profitable real estate investments. They specialize in commercial properties and offer guidance on investment decisions to maximize returns.
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►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #003 [Sunghoon.]
Previous Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002
Abstract: Juxtaposing the way your town was beginning to get a new lease on life after the authorities finally found the culprit behind your town's recent serial killings, your life was fraying at the edges instead as you still had to continue battling your inner demons on the daily – from nightly terrors to random flashes of visions – the latter of which, for mysterious reasons, seemed to only happen when you are face-to-face with Park Sunghoon, the bane of your existence. The more distraught you were over it all, the more convinced you were to get to the bottom of it, even if it means wreaking hell with the bane of your existence and waltzing with him in a game of his own making. You knew you were treading dangerous waters in doing so but you figured, if your days are numbered, then you'd rather go down fighting, dragging him down with you. But with the line between hate and love being thin, someone is bound to slip up soon, thereby threatening to ensnare the both of you deeper into the tangled web that Sunghoon had spun for you in the first place. ⌈ Do check out the previous parts here ‣ #001 | ‣ #002 ⌋
Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance (or is it? 😋) | wc: 26.9k
Warnings: blood; violence; injuries (some are self-inflicted); suggestiveness (some are forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.
© 2022 interlunium-opus. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize, post or translate anywhere.
— i
“That’s a pretty heavy topic for a light read,” Jungwon who was trailing behind you, remarked, eyes fixated on the book you were holding, “that book is about Trauma right? I know you like reading but it’s deadline season so I doubt you’re picking this up for leisure reading. I don’t think it relates to any of your modules either. Is everything alright y/n?”
No, you thought to yourself, nothing is. Juxtaposing the way your town was beginning to get a new lease on life after the authorities finally found the culprit behind the serial killings, your life was fraying at the edges as you continue to battle your inner demons on the daily – from nightly terrors to random flashes of visions – the latter of which, for mysterious reasons, seemed to only happen when you are face-to-face with Park Sunghoon, the bane of your existence.
The more you ruminated about how your life has seemingly turned awry, the more perplexing it all becomes. In fact, if your life was a jigsaw puzzle, it would be the kind where none of the remaining puzzle pieces that have been left fit the gaps, which gives you either a distorted picture if you force it, or an incomplete picture, if you leave it be – none of which is ideal. Not when the gaps were having such a debilitating effect on your life from the dizzy spells, anaemia, visions, to nightly terrors.
Perplexingly, the more you pondered about each gap, the more it can be traced to Park Sunghoon. The most jarring of all in particular was the gaps in your memories of that evening when you last worked with Sunghoon – after which, everything seemed to take a weird turn, though not immediately. It was only in hindsight that you were able to see how the disjointed oddities seem to be cascading: the memory gaps; your sudden deteriorating health; Sunghoon’s sudden shift in behaviour; your nightly terrors; and your distorted visions. Taken together, you couldn’t help but quell the sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach that perhaps the ill-fitting puzzle pieces in your life weren’t natural at all – that they were purposefully tampered upon. That everything has been orchestrated. That you have been toyed around like a rat in a maze.
It even sometimes occurred to you that perhaps the said maze had been his in the first place – though you can never for the life of you figure out how and why would he go through such lengths.
Hence why you’ve been battling tooth and arms for the popular book in your hand. A book on trauma that perhaps could shed light as to why your mind has been going haywire; why your memories did not seem like they were yours; and why you feel so inexplicably haunted – as if you’re forgetting something, as if a danger is looming, as if Park Sunghoon is someone you should be wary of for more ominous reasons instead of just for his prowess at catching and breaking hearts.
“You know you can trust me right?” Jungwon murmured softly, bringing you back to reality. You felt him coming up behind you, his chest pressing against your back as he reached over towards the self-checkout machine, offering to help you instead since you had begun to space out. You edged away slightly, giving him some space – still not used to how excessively attentive and tactile Yang Jungwon has been as of late.
Now, Jungwon has indeed always been a chivalrous lad but his actions, gazes and touches back then were never excessive – it was always strictly and unmistakably cordial that there would be no room to overthink nor misunderstand the meaning of it. As of late however you couldn’t help but notice how every touch and gaze linger a tad bit too long that you couldn’t help but feel increasingly apprehensive of something bubbling underneath. It’s all in your head, you would try to convince yourself sometimes, feeling guilty of being so suspicious of someone that has offered nothing but constant help and comfort to you as of late.
“I know,” you softly muttered back, “I can’t trust myself though.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he smiled reassuringly, his voice ever so gentle and soft, “because I do.”
You smiled back almost automatically, eventually relenting especially under the weight of his compelling gaze. “Well, it’s nothing serious really. Just a recurring nightmare that’s debilitating,” you mumbled, carefully weighing each word so as not to overshare, “I would have just ignored it but I feel like its recurrence is starting to distort my perception. It didn’t help that the place, the man, the feeling, all felt familiar – as if it had been a memory that is replayed rather than just a dream conjured. Anyway, I uh, just wanted to check if they could mean something psychologically because I’ve read before that traumas can manifests itself in the form of nightmares too.”
“Like in PTSD sufferers?” he sympathized, “It's possible. You did after all underwent a near death experience in campus.”
“Yeah…” you murmured, slightly surprised to hear him reference the case you experienced in campus which you were sure only Heeseung knew of. But then again, you reassured yourself, Jungwon worked part-time as a guard so it’s possible that it’s something made known to them for safety measures. You then noticed his attention shifting away from your eyes towards you neck, brows knitting in recognition of something, “that mark, how did you-” his hand begin to reach up, ghosting over your neck when you guys were sorely interrupted by a booming, jovial voice.
“Good evening lovebirds, hope we’re not intruding.”
You two immediately snapped your head towards the direction of the voice, startled, as if you two had been walked into while doing something incriminating. It was Jake Sim, the Student Union’s Head of Sports, tugging on his sleeve to show you guys the Burgundy-coloured arm band he was wearing which signify that he was on patrol duty. Trailing behind him was, of course, Park Sunghoon.
“It’s 15 minutes until the start of the curfew,” Jake announced as he approached you both before turning his attention squarely towards you, “just want to make sure this lady right here won’t overstay.”
“I guess I must have a bounty over my head with the way you and your little gang are always up in my business,” you muttered flatly as you shot Sunghoon a brief accusatory glance, “I was just leaving.”
“Pretty sure your friend here," Jungwon suddenly spoke up, eyes flitting to Sunghoon, then back to Jake, "-isn't part of the Student Union. Surely you're not reprimanding someone but turning a blind eye to your own best friend ? that would be low of you Jake Sim."
You pressed your lips together to quell the amusement and satisfaction that was quickly blooming over your face. As expected from the poster boy of chivalry and valour in campus, you thought to yourself as you give Jungwon a brief look of admiration.
“Oh don’t worry, I was just leaving as well,” Sunghoon calmly replied though the brief tightening of his jaw seem to indicate that the comment didn’t miss the mark. Suddenly he turned to you, “since they both have to make the last sweep before curfew, it’s just us then. Shall we head out together?”
“I can head out alone just fine,” you replied him curtly and bid Jungwon a quick goodbye, before turning on your heel and exiting the main hall, taking the back corridor towards the back exit instead in hopes that you wouldn’t have to deal with Sunghoon anymore.
Except as you descended down the stairs, you could hear footsteps following you. You rolled your eyes and picked up your pace, knowing exactly who it was.
“Aren’t you walking too fast right now? Scared of the curfew or scared of me?” Sunghoon asked, the amusement in his voice audible. You ignored him, pushing past a series of glass doors that separated the corridors, hoping that one of them would have slammed him right in the face.
“You seem pretty chummy with that cat-eye lad,” he started again, “Do you have a thing for men who resemble animals or something? first your fox-looking guard dog then this cat-looking –“
“Park Sunghoon, get lost,” you hissed as you turned around abruptly, having had enough of him pestering you. To your surprise, despite the sound of his footsteps, he was actually just a few steps away from you which caught you off guard as he almost crashed onto you the moment you turned around. Not that it bothered him though for he just grinned slyly, satisfied to have incited a reaction from you.
“Aren’t you being too cold to me?” he raised his brows, waving a blue book in his hand – the book you had just loaned out and should have been safely tucked in your zipped backpack, “you actually dropped this and I was just trying to give it back to you.”
You furrowed your brows in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment as you make a grab for the book, only for him to retract his hand back, “Oh? I thought you wanted me to get lost?”
“Give it back,” you demanded.
“Say it nicely,” he taunted, biting his lips to suppress the grin that was blooming across his lips.
You scoffed thinking how you should have known better. “Over my dead body,” you spat as you backed away, your patience thinning, “you know what? you can have it. I’d rather pay the penalty fee.”
With that you turned back and marched towards the exit door hoping that that would have offended him enough to leave you alone. Except this was Park Sunghoon we are talking about and if there is anything you can predict about him is that he will always act the opposite of what you expect and anticipate – like a true contrarian.
As you swung the door open, Sunghoon had caught up to you, and in just swift motions, he reached over and slammed the door back close – drawing parallels to the scene at the beginning of your nightmare when the door was shut close too as soon as you swung it open. Like a memory trigger, memories of your nightmare flooded in – filling you with a sense of confusion. You turned around, about to tell him off, only to be unnerved by how close he was, dwarfing over you in such a menacing way – again drawing parallels to your nightmare when you were backed up by a faceless man.
“For someone who is always running into dangerous situations, you sure still run your mouth freely y/n,” he chided threateningly in a low voice. Shivers went down your spine as your back pressed onto the cold glass behind you though you weren’t sure if it was the contact that made you shudder or was it the way Sunghoon loomed ominously before you with the dimmed lighting accentuating the steeliness of his expressions and the gravity of his commanding gaze.
You start to feel a lump in your throat, feeling your mind raking for memories that you weren’t even sure were there as if it was trying to warn you that something similar had unfolded beyond the realms of dreams before – of which didn’t end well. Still, always too brave for your own good, you refused to show any signs of fear as your stared back up into his increasingly paralyzing stare, almost as if challenging him.
In the midst of all the confusion, a dangerous and risky thought brewed in your mind. If Sunghoon really have anything to do with your hallucinations and even nightmares, you figured that you should be able to trigger it as per the previous cases when somehow being close to him seemed to have set it off. Thus, as if you two hadn’t been unnecessarily close in proximity already, you did the unthinkable as your hands reached up towards him, grabbing his collar and pulling him down towards you, catching the ever-so-inscrutable Park Sunghoon totally off-guard. His brows knitted in a mixture of confusion and alarm, his Adam’s apple bobbing – looking uncharacteristically unnerved, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, seething, as he gripped your wrist, his nails digging onto your skin painfully that you were sure it’d leave a mark.
A familiar sense of forebode soon rose from every small detail you see and every little sensation you felt: from the way he looked down murderously at you, to the way gripped your wrist, to the way the fabric of his shirt felt under your clutch. It was all starting to evoke that sickening feeling of déjà vu that is almost too heavy and ominous that it was paralyzing. Your visions begun to distort, transitioning rapidly between the Sunghoon that was right there with you in library, to Sunghoon standing in a dark, moon-lit room. From a glowering Sunghoon who looked like he was going to murder you to a Sunghoon who looked rather sultrily at you.
You gulped, mustering every strength and rationality in you not to crumble under it all. It’s just in your mind y/n, you tell yourself repeatedly as the visions rapidly transitioned, showing similar sequences as the ones you’ve had before. Except this time, as the Sunghoon from your visions lowered his face towards you, about to close the gap, you felt him dip lower, latching instead to your neck instead of your lips – mirroring your nightmares with the faceless man sinking his fangs onto your neck. When the man pulled back, you faced the exact same faceless man as the one in your dreams – the shadows concealing the rest of his face save for the sharp jawline, pale skin, plump lips, fangs, and blood-stained shirt.
Had this been your typical nightmare, this would have usually been the part where it all ended. But somehow this time, it went on, his face craning in such a way that the moonlight, which streamed through a nearby window, gradually illuminated the rest of his face: his nose, his eyes, hair. Your trepidation quickly combusted into that of horror as you realized now why the man’s features had always evoked such a strange feeling of familiarity.
It was Park Sunghoon’s.
“You…” you croaked, mind fraught in turmoil when the scene before you melted away, reverting back to Sunghoon at present in the library, who had just aggressively yanked your hands off of him. You noticed the subtle brief eyebrow twitch and clenching of jaw as he teetered back – almost as if he registered or realized something.
“Don’t play with fire y/n,” he glowered and suddenly the lights around the library started to flicker wildly and in the fraction of second when his face directly caught the light, you noticed how his dark brown eyes had unexplainably turned into a shade of amber though you couldn’t double take as the light completely went out after, his voice echoing in the dark, “—you’ll get burnt”.
When the lights switched back on after a few seconds, Sunghoon was gone – as if he had disapparated.
Suddenly whatever courage and strength you had from earlier dissipated and you crumbled onto the cold marble floor – legs weak, hearts wildly palpitating and mind completely stretched thin. Memories from that night when Sunghoon sank his teeth onto your neck started to flood back to you like burst dam, filling you with overwhelming emotions that you found yourself heaving and paralysed.
Twice in your life, you downplayed all the signs that had been there: from Sunghoon’s omnipresence around your life; the way events around your life seemingly gravitate towards him; the way his words always felt double-laced — it now all made sense. They were no coincidence — they were all him, everything was a web purely spun by him. The way he manipulated everything to his favour, from removing obstacles to tipping events, and then subsequently weaponised your own mind and memories against you to the point of insanity.
You remembered feeling very foolish back then in your last waking moments but now you just felt completely stupid for being strung around by Park Sunghoon again to the point of insanity.
What happened next was a total blur as you became so overwhelmed and numb from the rush of memories and realization: from having to process that vampires are not a stuff of fables; to Sunghoon being one; and to you being the one preyed upon. When you arrived home, you didn’t even bother to switch on the lights nor shower – just collapsing dejectedly and weakly onto your couch. Your train of thoughts soon melded into a disjointed mess as your body eased, lulling you into a sleeping state. It all then warped into something familiar — a large living living room, a figure following you from behind, door slamming shut just when you open it, you getting pinned against it — it was the same thing.
Except this time, everything was as clear as day – without any glitches and without any concealment – Park Sunghoon looming before you eyeing you as if you were meat. Everything then flooded back to you: you packing up to go home, him blocking you and forcing a kiss on you to the point your lips bled, then him stopping you from escaping, taunting you before sinking his fangs onto you. As you drift in and out of consciousness, you could see him sporting a triumphant grin, lips and collar morbidly smeared with blood – your blood – as he caressed your cheeks, rubbing the tears away as if he hadn’t been the one to have caused it in the first place.
“not so feisty now huh? y/n?” was the last thing you heard before it all went black.
Your eyes then fluttered open. You can feel your cheeks wet, apparently shedding a tear in your sleep just like in your nightmare. Unlike previous nights when you jolt awake in horror, sometimes even screaming, this time, you were calm – awash with a sense of clarity.
It has never been any random man. It has never been any normal nightmare.
It was Park Sunghoon all along.
And they weren’t nightmares, they were repressed memories.
You feel your fists clench in vehemence. You knew that your days now were probably numbered for there was no way he would let you off now that your memories have returned. Far from being scared however, you felt bolder, empowered by the desire to not let him have the upper hand. If I’m going down, you thought to yourself as your hand reached for the spot on your neck where the puncture mark had been, you’re going down with me Sunghoon.
— ii
“How many more bagged bloods is it going to take for you to realise that that is not hunger?” Jake jabbed, clicking his tongue dismissively at the way Sunghoon aggressively bite onto yet another bagged blood, finishing it in just seconds as if he hadn’t drunk for weeks. Jake shuddered when Sunghoon turned around, glowering, his eyes a luminous golden as he crumpled the empty bag, throwing it angrily across the room. Sunghoon has always been the calm one so to see him this agitated was alarming.
Sunghoon knew a drop of your blood could drive him off the rails but what he didn’t know was how you, in your entirety, could have the same effect. He felt dizzy again as he was reminded of when you had daringly, and foolishly he might add, pulled him earlier – the way your dark eyes, like whirlpool, was threatening to pull him deeper; the way your lips, parted and flushed, threatened to drew him close; the way you looked so small under him, making him go almost feral at the thought of completely engulfing you. Fuck, he cussed again internally as he slumped onto the bed, face buried in his hands, feeling the burn rising.
“It’s that toxic mix of obsession and lust that you hate the most,” Jake suggested, “swallow your pride tonight and prey on someone else both for fresh blood and for your other carnal desires – that’s how you’ll get through the burn. Nothing beats the satiation from a living person.”
In any other times, he would have already lunged at Jake but right now he was too overwhelmed to even glare at him. Begrudgingly he agreed to be dragged to another party tonight – much to the delight of Jay and Jake. Technically if what he felt was lust, he can just find other women from the hottest to the most skillful, to satiate that. If what he felt was hunger for fresh blood from a living human – that, too, he can find from another human. Whatever it takes, the world is essentially his oyster and tonight, he wasn’t going to restrain himself.
Thus unlike his usual untouchable and prickly self, Sunghoon was a different man tonight for when they arrived at a frat party in another university, his hands quickly found the hottest woman who was more than eager to get it on with him.
You’re nothing to me y/n, he thought to himself they sloppily made out in one of the empty bedrooms, his hands roaming frantically as his desire rise and fall with every touch and kisses, convincing him that it had indeed been just any normal lust. Except as the night deepened and things escalated further than he usually would allow, you still burned in the back of his mind. Burning ever brighter as if he had just tried to put down fire with fuel with him being the one at stake, completely engulfed in flames.
Now vampires don’t really get sick but with the way the burn within him was almost incapacitating, he might as well be breaking into a fever. A fever that is leaving him infuriatingly confused as to whether he wants to eliminate you or own you.
— iii
Your nightmares stopped since that evening. On one hand, you were grateful, finally having adequate and uninterrupted amount of sleep each night – something that has become a rarity to you that it was almost a luxury. On the other hand, you were slightly bummed. There were still some things you wanted to confirm, of which you could potentially do by revisiting your nightmares and yet now that you were seeking for it, it had completely vanished, leaving you with nothing but just dubious patchwork of memories of which was getting increasingly fragile and fleeting as days passed.
“It’s all red herring I tell you,” you hear Sunoo grumble from the other side of your door, occasionally knocking to ask you if you were ready, before continuing on with his ramblings and complaints, “there is no way a 23-year old drug addict did all that. I’ve been dabbling in Press work long enough to see a red herring when I see one. I bet you whoever is behind all these is powerful and influential to easily tamper with evidence and throw someone else under the bus like that.”
“I think so too,” you concurred though you stayed silent about your reasons. While you had been itching to tell Sunoo everything you knew and what had transpired between you and Sunghoon, you had no evidence whatsoever. Not yet, at least. Objectively too, though you now know that Sunghoon is no ordinary human, perhaps not one at all, you don’t have evidence that he is behind all the serial killings either. Sure the shoe fits but for all you know, there might have been many like him around town, operating solitarily or even colluding with one another to prey on humankind while covering each other’s back. In fact, the whole town might have just been rats in a maze for them.
There is also another reason as to why you have been keeping your mouth tightly sealed in this regard: to protect Sunoo himself. After what Heeseung and Sunghoon did to him, you were sure Sunoo harboured so much ill-feelings towards them that no amount of reason could ever talk some sense into him had he gotten a whiff of these information. In fact, you were certain that he would immediately run with it, printing the stories out without any care for the lack of evidence, let alone the grave implications of doing so. Hence, you’ve kept yourself silent about it, preferring to gather information and piece it all out alone for now.
“You can come in now, I’m done putting on my dress,” you said as you applied a burgundy shade of lipstick over your coral lips, dabbing on it to spread it evenly across. Noticing the way Sunoo seemed stupefied at the sight of you with jaws agape, you started to feel self-conscious, trying to pull the tulle sleeves of your off-the-shoulder sequinned black gown upwards, “Is it too much? too revealing? should I change to-“
“Oh quit it. More like too stunning,” Sunoo gushed overdramatically as he encircled you, “I can’t believe how adamant you were to miss the ball tonight. Look at you, you look absolutely jaw-dropping right now, as if you’re made for the ball.”
“You’re just saying that because I have begrudgingly agreed to come with you to the Winter Ball,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m all set now, let’s go – won’t want to be fashionably late, I’m not made for that kind of attention.”
“Even if you’re not fashionably late, you would end up commanding a lot of attention tonight anyway,” he winked as he helped you with your coat, placing it loosely over your exposed shoulders.
Ever since the culprit has been caught, life has finally returned to campus with the return of the long-awaited annual Winter Ball sealing the deal – serving like a celebration that the worse was finally over. As if the weather was also on the side of the event, it had begun to lightly snow that evening as well, covering the merrily-decorated compound of campus in the colour of purity as if symbolising a 'rebirth', making the whole scene before you seem so magical and otherworldy especially as everyone were dressed so formally with their tailored suits and classy gowns.
While you have never been interested in the Ball, you succumbed to the continuous pressures from Sunoo who never tire in pestering, whining and bribing you to attend it with him. You were actually adamant on standing your ground but after weeks of seeing him being all dejected and moody from having his investigation resources confiscated by Heeseung, you thought this would cheer him up. Thankfully, it really did – bringing the megawatt smile back to his face while adding extra spring to his steps.
When you two finally reached the Grand Hall with 45 minutes to spare before the start of the event, it was already brimming with life as students and staffs, all decked in their finest, mingled about – filling the air with a cacophony of sounds from chatters, laughters, whispers, and clinking of glasses – all of which floated above the soft classical music that is being played by a live Orchestra. Usually grim and sombre owing to its Gothic Architecture and monochromatic grandeur, the Grand Hall too was transformed into a majestic wonder tonight, looking like the epitome of opulence, magnificence and exclusivity, with all the ostentatious chandeliers; taper candles; hydrangea centrepieces; twinkling lights; and garlands.
Sunoo excitedly tug onto your hand, his eyes twinkling in delight, almost mirroring the fairy lights that adorned the columns and trees. You were never the type to enjoy social events like Balls nor were you ever a fan of being in a crowd, but after months of trepidation and despondency, the bustling crowd and noise was oddly comforting – like a sure sign that the worse is definitely over. In fact, as you two settled in, meeting and catching up with old friends and other coursemates, you were really beginning to take Sunoo’s words for it – that you’d have the time of your life tonight.
At least that was what you thought until about an hour and a half later when the crowd quietened down into gasps and whispers. From the reaction you'd have thought the Dean had walked into the Hall but it was none other than Sunghoon and his clique, having just arrived, decked in the finest suits from the most luxurious brands, effortlessly looking like the embodiment of wealth, class and charisma. Sunghoon himself was dressed regally in a black sleek and custom-tailored YSL suit with a distinct intricately-designed ruby-centred coat of arms pinned on his lapel. Sunghoon had always looked cold and intimidating but his partially slicked-back hair tonight, which fully exposed his thick brows, prominent brow bone and piercing gaze, was amplifying it all – lending a rather ethereal, otherworldly and untouchable quality to him.
“Such attention hogs,” Sunoo muttered disdainfully, “I was so sure they would decline the invitation again this year and yet here they are—”
“Is it too late to go back now?” you grumbled, grimacing at the way everyone clamour and gushed over them like sunflowers towards the sun – totally oblivious to the fact that there is a monster lurking amongst them. All of a sudden, as if he knew you were there and you had been staring, his eyes directly met yours in a chilling precision amidst all the distance and the crowd that stood between you two. You held his gaze, eventually scowling when he refused to look away and proceeding to give you the once-over with a smirk blooming across his lips.
“Ugh,” Sunoo groaned, turning you around, and shielding you away from Sunghoon’s prying eyes, “he’s so shameless – it’s almost as if he wants you right there and then.”
Yeah, want me dead, you thought to yourself.
Fortunately, as they always had a crowd clamouring over them, they were always so preoccupied and were always away from your line of sight so you were able to go about your evening unbothered, completely in your own world, joking and dancing with Sunoo as well as with some of your other coursemates – completely forgetting that Sunghoon was even around. Until that is, the lighting started to the dim, the Orchestral music started to gradually grow louder and the floor started to clear – signalling the start of the long-awaited Waltzing session. You watched in awe as some people begin to join others at the centre of the hall, each rhythmically and formulaically Waltzing to the classical music with their partners with so much ease and grace as if it’s something that anyone normally does in their pastime.
Just then you felt Sunoo tugging your hand with a sheepish grin that you knew only meant trouble. You mouthed a few protests, trying to retreat away but as you begin to feel the heat of people’s stares, you had no choice but to begrudgingly let yourself get dragged to the dance floor, not wanting to cause a fuss and attract more attention.
“You owe me big time Kim Sunoo,” you grumbled through gritted teeth as you watched other couples warily while Sunoo just confidently held your hand in his and wrapped a hand around your waist, guiding you carefully according to the melody of Tchaikovsky’s 'Serenade For Strings in C Major, Op.48 II', “come on, what’s a ball without proper dancing? You already look the part, might as well play the part. Trust me okay? now relax your shoulders and carefully, follow my steps, 1, 2, yes, now backwards, yes -”
That was how you ended up on the dance floor, waltzing through a series of classical music, and a series of different men because Sunoo cheekily did not tell you that partners change whenever the classical pieces change. As if that wasn’t awkward enough – you could feel someone’s burning stare on you throughout the dance: Park Sunghoon.
While his hands were always on the hottest women in campus and he was always so preoccupied, whether it is in conversations, chatters, or even whispers, his eyes never failed to meet yours in an uncanny precision whenever your eyes accidentally landed on him in the crowd. That is, if he hadn't already been staring at you in the first place like a vulture waiting for their prey to succumb to its death. At one point, you held his gaze, frowning to show your utter contempt – hoping that that would have given him the message and make him look away but with the way the corner of his lips tipped, that obviously had the opposite effect. In fact, at one time, his partner ended up turning around, proceeding to give you the stink eye as if you had been checking out Sunghoon in the first place. As if, you thought to yourself, grimacing.
“Evening beautiful.”
You snapped out of your thoughts, realising then that the piece had changed again and the man that was holding your hand had changed. “Jungwon!” you gasped, face melting into utter relief and glee. Your body relaxed almost immediately in his touch after all the stiffness you had to maintain from the bunch of strangers you had to shuffle through for the Waltz so far.
“Wouldn’t want to miss a dance with the most beautiful lady in the hall tonight,” he grinned cheekily as he wrapped his hand over your waist ever so gently, guiding you carefully and attentively through the slow melody. It was classic Yang Jungwon – comforting and dependable. Except tonight, contrasting his usual boy-next-door image, his slicked-back hair, which fully exposed his strong arched brows and sharp feline eyes, lent a much stronger charismatic and refined impression to his look and vibe which could lean towards unnerving, if not alluring, if he wasn’t smiling cheerily like he did right now.
“No shift tonight?” you asked.
“Unfortunately, I do in about 45 minutes since they are short-staffed due to the holiday season,” he pressed his lips into a thin line, “but doesn’t matter, now that I’ve danced with you, my evening is complete.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re the last person I’m dancing with as well,” you replied before almost stumbling as the music sped up, struggling to keep up. Always so gallant and dependable, he quickly held you steady, beaming reassuringly as he wheeled you away to a more spacious area, “I’ve got you, just follow these sequences- yep, there you go…”
“Sorry about that. I haven’t acclimatised myself to upbeat waltzing. Heck even waltzing in itself was some sort of an uphill struggle,” you smiled apologetically, eyes trained on your feet to make sure you won’t be stepping on him again before flitting back up into his eyes, “never even planned to come but Sunoo insisted.”
“Well, he deserves a medal for convincing you then and I am grateful that you did. You were the only one I was searching for in the crowd earlier.”
“You’re not already drunk are you? you are unusually flirty tonight,” you raised your brows quizzically before chuckling playfully, “this isn’t you – bring me back that innocent, anti-romantic, Jungwon.”
With a playful smirk he corrected, “first things first, old Jungwon is long gone. Secondly,” you feel his grip over your waist tighten and the grin slowly faltering as his gaze seemingly darkened, “I’m not that innocent.”
You chuckled lightly, thinking that he was just being playfully dismissive though you find your smile faltering as you notice the way his gaze shifted, the way his eyes flitted ever so briefly seemingly towards your lips and neck. “Is the mark on your neck gone?” he asked. It took you a while to process what he was referring to when you were reminded of that night in the library when he was going to ask something about it before getting interrupted by Jake. “Oh- that,” you mustered. For reasons unknown you somehow decided to lie, “yeah, it was just a small injury.”
He raised his brows, looking unconvinced, “it didn’t look like a normal injury to me? How did you get it?”
You have always known that Jungwon’s stare can be too intense sometimes especially since he had sharp feline eyes and strongly-arched brows but the way he stared down at you right now really unnerved you in a way that makes you feel cornered. “Not sure actually. Perhaps it was a bed bug from when I went to the rurals for volunteering last time,” you lied again, hoping that that could’ve been believable.
“Ah-“ his mouth hung, “those bloodsuckers.”
You could have swore he said the last word with extra, unnecessary, emphasis – as if he knew you were lying and he wanted you to know that. Thankfully, the piece was nearing its end so you didn't need to stare into those forceful and hypnotizing eyes any longer as you turned around, swaying in shadow position just like other dancers. His words and gaze however still lingered in your mind so distractingly that as you twirled you lost his hand for a brief moment though he recaptured it just in time as you spun back towards him. Except, the hands that had caught you was larger and you can see now, to your horror, it was not even Jungwon anymore. It was Sunghoon and the piece had already transitioned to a darker piece: the majestic ‘Swan Lake Op.20, Act II, No.10’ by Tchaikovsky.
“How did you—,“ you stuttered, caught completely off guard. You could have sworn Sunghoon was far away from you the last time you caught a glimpse of him – the distance of which would have been impossible for him to be your next dance partner.
“You’re not wrong,” he conceded, almost as if he could read your mind and was replying to your thoughts, “I had to break the social etiquette and leave my partner before the piece ended just so I can have the last dance with you before someone else snatches you away.”
You scoffed, really not having it. “well, I’m not one for rules either,” you snubbed, just about to pull away from him and break the etiquette by leaving the dance mid-way when you felt him interlacing his fingers with yours while his other hand that was just resting over your waist, slid higher, snaking across your back, seizing you in a vice-like grip, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You would just attract a lot of attention since half of those in the room are looking at us now. I know you hate attention.”
You looked around and true enough, almost everyone’s attention in the hall was on you both. You stared back up at Sunghoon, flummoxed, “you did this on purpose didn’t you? Wasn’t the previous piece supposed to have been the last dance?”
“Well, what I want, I get,” he asserted domineeringly, brows arched up smugly as he wheeled you away in an adept yet dizzying turn across the dance floor past other couples. Perplexingly, despite the pace and force at which he was leading you, you hadn’t stumbled even once – it was almost as if you had been put under a spell, a spell that enraptured you in a fixed pre-set rhythm with him.
“So you’re saying that dancing with me tonight is what you want?” you asked mockingly just to spite him.
“Wrong,” he tutted, “it’s you that I want.”
“Is that doublespeak for my blood?” you provoked. Seeing the way his brows made the slightest twitch and his gaze darkened made you feel almost triumphant. He lowered his face slightly, tilting it, and bringing his lips close to your ears, “don’t play with me darling,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ears, sending shivers down your spine, “I can conjure up your worst memories here right now. Maybe then you’ll learn not to run your mouth too liberally in public.”
You jerked your head away from him and stared back into his darkened gaze in defiance though the way your jaw tightened was enough to satisfy him for it was a sign that you were fraying no matter the tough front you put forward for him. “why haven’t you killed me yet?” you asked, point-blank.
“Well, killing you would mean letting you off easy,” he cooed, “you don’t deserve that.”
You chewed the inside of your lower lip, seething, wondering how much longer you could tolerate being so close to this vile man. Every second felt like decades and you have become increasingly hyperaware of the way he was holding you – with every part of your body that was touching his, searing. From his large hand that had snaked over your back; his fingers that were all interlaced with yours; and your body all locked with his — you were effectively being seized, like a prey. More infuriatingly is the way your heartbeat was picking up though you couldn’t tell if it was simply out fury for having to dance with the devil; apprehension over his next steps; or, as much as you hated, over how flustered he was making you feel.
Nevertheless, you weren’t one to admit defeat nor show any signs of vulnerability – especially not to him. So even if you felt like you were going to buckle under his intense gaze and cower away from his strong hold, you persistently powered through – feigning nonchalance as you stared back in those dark commanding eyes unflinchingly. You figured for someone so prideful, power-obsessed and controlling like him, who always have the upper hand and have people wrapped around his fingers, accusing him of having feelings for you and being obsessed with you would be the greatest insult which in turn would have triggered him to act rashly. Hence you decided to play along, taunting him mockingly with the aim of riling him to the point of slipping up, “Oh yeah? I do hope that that is indeed the case,” you muttered lowly, “— not because you’re catching feelings for me. That would have been such a low blow, falling for a mere mortal who feels nothing but vehemence towards you.”
Pressing his tongue against his cheek, he scoffed, lips curling agonisingly slow into a rather insidious grin. “Oh yeah?” he drawled, his hand sliding further, fingers curling over your side ribs with nails digging painfully into your skin like talons, “then why is your heart beating so fast? Are you scared of me?” he raised his brows smugly as he harshly pulled you closer up his body as if trying to assert his dominance and further grind your gears, “or are you attracted to me? Would be a low blow for you either way isn’t it?”
“Speak for yourself,” your hand had already travelled down his shoulder, resting on his chest, eyes boring into his, unyielding and challenging, “yours is matching mine. You should be careful Sunghoon, you might need more blood to keep that shrivelled heart pumping this fast.”
Just then the piece picked up, booming into the last chorus line as if trying to mirror the tension that was brewing and threatening to spill over between the two of you as you two obsess over one-upping the other, completely oblivious over the fact that sometimes, the line between hate and attraction are blurry. In fact, to many unassuming observers, it was very easy to mistake the both of you as being completely enamoured with one another especially with the proximity, hand placements, the locked gazes and the banters. But whose to say they were wrong when deep down the both of you couldn’t tell for certain either.
The music fortunately stopped just in time, preventing anything from escalating and as if utterly disgusted you immediately pried his hand off of your back, feeling his touch searing by the second. He wasn’t going to let you off easy though as he tugged onto your hand, causing you to slightly tip towards him, before bringing the hand close to his lips. You watched in horror as he pressed his lips onto the back of your hand planting a gentle kiss that caused shockwaves across the crowd. A devious smirk immediately tugged on that very lip, “you look beautiful tonight by the way. Ravishing. Would have told you that earlier if we weren’t constantly at each other’s throat.”
You yanked your hand back protectively, embarrassed and fuming. You hated how his every move are always so calculated with the intention delivering the biggest blow to you as if someone was keeping score. Sunoo emerged just in time from the crowd, hissing curses at Sunghoon as he wrapped a protective arm over you and took you away. “You okay?” he asked, lowering his face to meet yours. You plastered a smile, nodding, “I’m fine. He was just messing around.”
Just then, one of the staffs took over the podium, announcing that it was time for dinner, fortunately diverting everyone’s attention away from you towards the food and drinks that were being wheeled into the hall. “I should have kept a closer watch on you,” he said apologetically, “I didn’t know he was that determined to get to you. Kind of weird though. I mean after months of pretending you were nothing but a stranger?” Sunoo paused, eyeing you suspiciously, “you’re not… hiding anything from me are you?”
You shook your head, pretending to be unaffected and nonchalant, “None whatsoever. He’s just bitter that I beat him in the other essay. Classic Sunghoon.”
Thankfully, Sunoo didn’t press on further, readily buying into your lie. As he was busy eyeing the rich selections of food, you looked away, feeling your head spinning though you couldn’t tell if it was from the excessive socialising, dizzying waltzing, or maybe it was Sunghoon and the array of emotions he was capable of evoking from you all at the same time – fear, dread, anger, you name it. Eyes trained on the empty galleries decked out on the upper floors, you decided to slip away from Sunoo, who was busy socialising now, to find a momentary respite.
As you reached one of the galleries, which was decked in burgundy-gold colour palettes, you hunched over the wooden bannister, propping your elbow up and resting your chin in your palm, looking over blankly at the bustling crowd on the floors below. As if there was gravity pulling, your eyes ended up wandering towards Sunghoon, seated at the corner with his little clique, surrounded by other wealthy and popular kids as per usual.
You scowled as memories from earlier – from his taunts, flirtations, to his threatening remarks – flooded back in. If only people know what you are Sunghoon, you thought to yourself.
As you laboured over these thoughts, you soon found your mind treading dangerous waters, your other hand already slipping inside your purse, making a grab for something: an army swiss knife – something you had been carrying as of late for protection.
Your eyes flitted from the knife to Sunghoon, then back, thinking to yourself, theoretically, like sharks, the littlest drop of blood should be easily detected by him. You flipped the blade out as you gave Sunoo a quick text telling him to stay where he was and start filming the crowd if anything happens. A barrage of texts immediately came through from Sunoo but you ignored it as you slipped the phone back into your purse, eyes trained on Sunghoon as your resolve to cause havoc was strengthening by the second, if I’m lucky he would lose control right in front of everyone.
With no hesitation you slid the blade across a small section of your palm though in your haste, the cut went deeper than expected with blood quickly pooling and trailing down. You winced, feeling it sting as you looked back at Sunghoon who was still engrossed in a conversation with others. Then suddenly as if a switch had been turned in his head, he looked up straight at you in such a chilling precision as if he knew you were right there.
Startled and alarmed, you edged away from the railings, trying to escape his field of vision. The lights started to flicker then and you knew you got him. Heart hammering wildly against your chest with your fight and flight response kicking in, you quickly darted out of the gallery.
The lights had completely went out then, leaving the winding corridor illuminated ominously with a red glow from the emergency lights in the corner. You can hear the crowd below erupting in unrest. Just as you reached the staircase you saw a CCTV right in the corner and another risky thought brewed in your mind. You purposefully slowed down and as you anticipated, not a full second after, you feel someone’s heavy presence behind you though before you could turn around, you found yourself slammed to the nearest wall.
The corner of your lips lifted, forming a small triumphant grin at the sight of Sunghoon in front of you, “aren’t you too easy Park Sunghoon?” you mocked, gritting your teeth his hand grabbed your neck, threatening to choke you. It might look as if Sunghoon has all the upper hand right now but nothing could be far from the truth because if anyone knows anything about him, to be able to rile the calm, collected and calculative Sunghoon up to this point is a massive feat. After all, he was always the one who is a few steps ahead, the who orchestrates, the who puppeteers. But now, despite all his attempts, his efforts seemingly backfired with his eyes already lightening to Golden; fangs fully erupted; and breathing all labored, both out of anger and increasingly, hunger. “You must really have a death wish y/n,” he warned insidiously.
You would be lying if you said the sight of him glowering murderously at you with razor sharp teeth and glowing golden eyes did not terrify you but from the moment your memories had started to slowly return weeks ago, you knew your days were numbered and that realization struck something in you – turning you from the risk-averse and non-confrontational person you had always been, to someone who is more defiant and dauntless. After all, if you’re going to die – you might as well die fighting.
Hence why, instead of pleading for mercy, you were relentlessly trying to provoke him, “with an opportunity served on a golden platter like this,” you derided, smirking as you ran your bloody hand up his wrist that was on your neck, “you shouldn’t fumble again. It’s getting too embarrassing at this point. Aren't you supposed to be infallible?”
You could see the alarm in his face as he realised a second too late how you had effectively smeared your blood on his hand, which had by then seeped onto his cuffs. Just like how your blood slowly crept up his cuff, dying every fiber at the edge into a deep shade of red, he, too, was increasingly engulfed in a confusing mess of impulse and desires which was getting harder to fight. Juxtaposing his usual calculated movements and calm and controlled facial expressions, he was thrown into disarray now as he yanked your hand aggressively away, pinning it against the wall, only to have his senses and rationality struck harder, as your bloodied palm was now fully exposed, the blood of which was dripping down towards his own hand – the scent now becoming overbearing that he was seeing red.
“Or do you prefer to do it in alleys, leaving my bloodless, punctured, body to be the next cold case in town? Oh wait, it can’t be a cold case anymore since you’ve got someone else to throw all the blame to,” you goaded further, truly having no regard whatsoever for your own life, “poor guy. For all we know you might also be running a drug den – essentially a pool of black sheeps to tap onto should you need someone to throw under the bus.”
Almost snarling, you feel him tighten his grip over your wrist, his nails digging onto your skin, as he lunged towards you. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for what was to come. But instead of the prickle of pain on your neck that you expected to follow, you felt him crash his lips onto yours instead, aggressively devouring it like a man starved. Your eyes flew open, aghast, as you felt his hand crept up your back possessively, pulling your body flush against him with unyielding strength as if any space in between would have killed him. You yelped – the sounds of which he swallowed as he thrust his tongue inside your mouth and deepened the kiss so heatedly that you could almost taste the anger and bitterness in the way his lips ferociously and hungrily devour yours. You then felt your bottom lip getting tugged in between his teeth, the pain of which made you wince, before it sent you thrashing harder against him when you felt him nibble, lick and suck on it. Not that any of your efforts were fruitful for he was far stronger – completely unbothered and unyielding like a stone. In fact, the more you thrashed and protested, the more seemingly intoxicated and entranced he became as he completely pressed his body up against yours, effectively immobilising you against the wall.
Your mind was getting hazy from the lack of air and just when you thought you might pass out, he pulled back, staring down at you domineeringly with his penetrating and devilish golden eyes. “Who’s easy now?” he mocked in a show of dominance and power as his tongue sultrily licked his blood-smeared lips.
“You fucking psycho-“ you hissed breathlessly as you shoved him away with as much strength as you could muster.
“Next time you pull this kind of stunt-“ he warned, the colour of his eyes gradually darkening to his usual dark brown colour as the grin on his face faltered, “–actually, forget it. I’ll make sure that you won’t even have a next time.”
“Why don’t you put money where your mouth is,” you spat as your fists clench in fury, “or is your mouth too busy trying to chase mine?”
His brows shot up momentarily before he narrows his eyes menacingly at you. You were sure he was going to say or do something to you then when suddenly you hear Sunoo calling your name out repeatedly.
“y/n!”
You snapped your head towards the direction of the voice, seeing Sunoo appearing by the staircase, completely out of breath, hunched over the floor, as if he had just ran all the way up. When you turned back, Sunghoon was long gone with absolutely no signs of him nearby. You looked around haphazardly, checking each galleries, and looking over the bannisters, seeing absolutely no signs of him, as if he disapparated.
“y/n!”
Sunoo grabbed your hand, swivelling you harshly around to face him, “what is wrong with yo-“ he paused, gasping, eyes widening in alarm, “you’re bleeding!”
“oh right- it’s-“ you mumbled, snapping out of your thoughts, as you looked at your bloodied palm. Except instead of your hand, Sunoo dabbed his clean handkerchief againts the center of your lips instead. You edged your face away, surprised. When you reached and gently touched the stinging spot on your lips, true enough it was bleeding. You scoffed, reminded of Sunghoon’s bloody lips too, along with his mocking words “who’s easy now?” – realising only then what he had really meant as he had bitten your lips and sucked on it. That prick, you feel your shoulders dropping in defeat, your head splintering.
“Did you take a tumble or something?” Sunoo asked as he continued gently dabbing your bloody lips, “If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you had been making out or something. Look at the state of your hair and your lips-“
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you grumbled defensively, snatching his handkerchief from him, trying your best to feign nonchalance as memories of Sunghoon liplocking you started replaying in your mind like a broken film, “I tumbled on the stairs earlier, it was too dark.”
“You’re acting weird, do you know that?,” Sunoo eyed you suspiciously, “Actually – you have been acting weird. What was that text earlier? Stay there? Camera on? What were you up to? But anyway thanks to your heads up, I caught something interesting.”
“Wait- you did?” you asked, hoping that perhaps Sunghoon could have been caught in his film. The way in which he suddenly appeared behind you was something no human could do – not in such speed, not when he was in the midst of a crowd and not in that dimmed lighting.
“Oh-“ you managed, evidently disappointed when you watched the clip in Sunoo’s phone. He filmed everywhere and everything except for the area where Sunghoon was initially at. The camera suddenly flipped to selfie mode, showing Sunoo looking confused as the lighting flickered, “Sunoo I didn’t tell you to film yourse-“
“Hey, exactly because I filmed this that I caught something odd,” he grumbled, fast-forwarding it to the time when Sunoo started swivelling around in the dark, “look at that man at the far corner near the statue,” you followed his finger, focusing on the guy who stood rooted there. It was grainy and blurry but you can see that his head snapped upwards as if he saw something alarming before suddenly he vanished just a few seconds the lighting went out.
“Wait, what-“ you grabbed Sunoo’s phone, rewinding it back and replaying it. There was no mistaking it, the guy definitely vanished into thin air. You first thought that it might have been Sunghoon but that would be impossible. After all before the lights shut off, he clearly was at the to other end of the hall, by the sofas – you saw that with your own eyes.
That was when the horrifying truth dawned on you, that your presumptions weren’t that far off — that there really was more than one like Sunghoon, not just in your town, but in your campus.
— iv
“It’s done,” Sunghoon muttered as he re-entered the dining hall of their loft. Jake turned to him, catching a glimpse of the man slumped near the sofa in the other room before the door completely closed behind Sunghoon, “he should remember nothing about tonight except just how wasted he was.”
“Good work Sunghoon,” Heeseung nodded as he massaged his temples and checked his phone for the umpteenth time for updates, “I’ve had the victims already sent to two different hospitals too. There should already be someone there ready for to do all the necessary cover-ups so the accident tonight shouldn’t cause too much ruckus with the elders.”
“Good thing I was making out just outside of the Grand Hall isn’t it? Otherwise someone else would have found the bodies,” Jay wiggled his brows, looking proud.
“Well for someone who was near the vicinity, it really is a wonder how far gone you were with the girl you were snogging with to have missed out a stray vampire feeding on two students nearby,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head dismissively as he nudged Sunghoon, beckoning him to agree with him. Sunghoon just gave him a cursory glance, looking every bit as disinterested and indifferent as ever as if he, too, wasn’t liplocking around the time it happened.
“What if this stray vampire is the one responsible for the chaos earlier?” Heeseung asked aloud, tapping the edge of his phone against the marble countertop, “did anyone have a good idea of what actually happened earlier? I was too busy buttering up the Board of Directors.”
Feigning ignorance, Sunghoon just casually shrug, despite knowing very well who had sparked the whole chaos earlier: you. Unlike what is popularly depicted in the media, vampires aren’t really like sharks but some do have a keen sense of smell when it comes to blood especially if it is the blood that they are very well familiar with. This is the case of you to Sunghoon who, having dawned it himself, could smell it when you had hurt yourself earlier. Though in hindsight he could now see how foolish and rash he had been to be easily baited like that. Not that he wanted to divulge all that to the rest though, especially not to Heeseung.
“Regardless of what happened in the Grand Hall, I think we have another one in our midst,” Sunghoon smoothly changed the subject, “I doubt it’s a pureblood though – we’d have sensed them otherwise and the way he or she just leaves the bitten body like that is too amateur and sloppy to be one of us.”
Heeseung nodded grimly, “that’s one heck of a skilled ‘unnatural’ then – to be able to evade us for so long.” ‘Unnatural’ is what they used to refer to human-turned-vampires. Not that the term is anymore less condescending than the non-Pure Bloods that some would refer them as.
“Leave that to me, I’ll try to find out more about it. Skilled or not, we are still much more superior and powerful than they are,” Sunghoon offered though his intentions in finding the culprit differed from the rest. Heeseung gave him a brief appreciative smile before retiring to the drawing room to answer a call.
“We’re done here right?” Sunghoon asked, turning to the other two, “let’s crash a party.”
Jay and Jake turned to each other in confusion but gladly complied nevertheless since they loved having fun and loved nothing more than roping the most reclusive one of them, Sunghoon, to get wild with them. The party that Jay took them to tonight wasn’t just any frat party either – it was some upscale party at the city – filled with the hottest and wealthiest people from the upper echelons of society including those of their own kind.
“Feeling the burn again?” Jake asked quietly as they entered the lofty mansion.
“Weirdly, no,” Sunghoon replied, surprised at his own answer. Jake’s words from weeks ago suddenly ringing hard in his ears, realizing now how it was you who had effectively quelled the burn that had plagued him tonight. Though he didn’t really know which one did it: the blood or the kiss since he did both tonight. Not that he wanted to ponder about it though. Tonight, he wanted a distraction.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to become preoccupied, getting roped into one of the empty bedrooms no sooner than 10 minutes being in the mansion. By the hottest woman in the party too, no less, who also happens to be of their kind. It was perfect – it should be. After all, she’s hot and someone of his own would understand and withstand his needs the most with no need of him to restrain himself like he would on mere mortals. He remembered finding her hot too as she seductively run up her red-lacquered nails up his chest, eagerly unbuttoning his shirt while her short red dress hiked up dangerously high as she straddled him. Her lips quickly molded with his and the whole thing quickly turned into a messy make-out session that quickly escalated. It was going so well.
Except not really.
Because instead of getting delirious and high in the throes of such heat, his mind was constantly straying away from the moment, finding its way back towards you. As if branded, you were etched in his mind and he hated that. He was supposed to be the one toying you and the one etched onto your mind to the point of insanity. Yet here he was, being the one who is gravely bothered and troubled in a game that he himself had spun.
He really thought he got it all under control but clearly, if anyone is losing control, it has been him. The signs had been there all along but classic Park Sunghoon just never wanted to deal with it and now look at the way it festered. He went from watching you as if you were an experiment to keeping such a close watch and tabs on you almost protectively and possessively, as if you were his in the first place.
Then there’s the jealousy that he felt whenever he sees you with either Sunoo or Jungwon. Initially he thought the feeling and desire to get rid of them was simply borne out of wanting to eliminate hurdles along the way and subsequently isolate you. That was indeed probably what it was initially, but slowly the desire becomes tainted with a more emotionally-driven interest – the desire to be them – the be the one receiving all the smiles, the gentle touches and spend an inordinate time with you. The next thing he knew, you have taken root in his mind, growing so entrenched as if you were the one spinning some sort of web in the first place, and not him. You end up haunting him not just in his waking moments, which was torturous enough considering how he doesn’t really sleep, but even in moments when he was in the midst of reaching his highs with other women.
Even now, as he flipped the lady over for another round, even as she was screaming his name loud – all he could see, hear and feel was you. The way you called his name, whether softly or bitterly; the plumpness of your lips; the warmth of your neck; the curvature of your waist; the way you fit perfectly in his embrace as if you were made for him. Fuck, he cussed to himself again. Deep down, he found himself desperately wishing that it was you he was touching, it was you who was holding onto him, it was you that was begging for him.
Buried within those lecherous thoughts however lay something more innocent. Something he doesn’t dare nor wish to ponder: how he wanted you to not detest him. How he wished that you had a fraction of positive feeling for him instead of just the vehemence that you always showed.
By the time he was done, he was already putting his clothes back on, foot already out the door. If problems can’t be solved, he thought to himself on his drive back home, pressing the pedal to dangerous speeds, I should eliminate it altogether.
Afterall, he reasoned further, I can’t yearn for something that isn’t there.
— v.
“The Head of Security bumped into me on the way and is now treating me to coffee so I’ll be a bit late but I’ve already authorised my credentials earlier so just go ahead and log into my PC with the log-in details I’ve shared,” Jungwon explained through the phone as you settled inside the staff room in the library, switching on the PC there while thanking him profusely for the umpteenth time, “thank you so much Jungwon. You know what, I owe you big time. I’ll treat you to a meal next time alright? Anything you want, just say it.”
It was just this morning when you asked him for a favour to view the CCTV in campus, hoping to get your hands on the evidence of whatever transpired last night before it gets wiped out. Always so benevolent and dependable, Jungwon agreed almost immediately without pestering you about the reasons even when getting himself authorised required him sneaking about and accessing the main system discreetly over at the main wing. While sometimes you do feel uncomfortable at just how far he is willing to go for you so selflessly, he has always had a reputation for being obliging and dependable so you always chalk your cynicism to irrational paranoia instead.
Being proficient in IT yourself, it didn’t take you long to figure out how to navigate the system once you’ve logged in, after which you began identifying the specific CCTV angles that could trace Sunghoon’s possible steps. “Got you,” you murmured to yourself, grinning triumphantly as you found him in CCTV #81, which was around the area where Sunghoon was lounging about just minutes before the whole chaos ensued. As you expected, at one point in time, unlike everyone else, Sunghoon’s head suddenly snapped upwards, right towards the area where you were and within seconds after the lights went out, he vanished.
You switched the angle to the other one – the CCTV near the staircase where you were at – which somehow ‘conveniently’ glitched just moments before he suddenly appeared behind you. You watched in anticipation as he roughly shoved you against the wall, expectations shot through the roof as you remembered purposefully riling him up right there and then because you wanted to incite the worse in him and get it filmed. It was risky but you thought, if it was the only way to get him to reveal more of the kind of monster he was, it would be worth it. Except, the more you watched, the more dismayed you were. With his back facing the CCTV, you were entirely engulfed by his figure – the angle of which was completely concealing the struggle that transpired between you two – making it look as if you two were heatedly making out in the dark instead.
You rewinded the clip again, trying to find an instance that could have implied otherwise. None, you thought to yourself, sinking in your seat in utter dejection as you realised none of it was usable – leaving you only with that clip of him vanishing but that could easily be taken as some sort of glitch as well.
Who’s easy now? You remembered him saying that again, realising now just how double-laced those words really were and calculated his actions were. The hall was indeed too public so he knew ravishing you right there and then could get him exposed. So he decided to do it under the guise of a kiss – the least suspicious yet the most vexing way to get back at you – essentially delivering a double-blow to you. Or triple rather, since he fumbled your plan with the CCTV as well, maybe he figured the angles out too. You scoffed, feeling defeated. At this rate, it did not feel like you were trying to beat him in his game but it felt more like you were waltzing with the devil to a tune that only he knows the beat of.
Just as your eyes scanned all the other CCTV angles cursorily, the angle near the back exit caught your attention. It had the same statue as the one Sunoo captured in his phone, near where a man was seen suddenly disappearing. You enlarged the clip, zeroing in on the guy which is probably the guy in question, who walked past the statue while trying to wear his coat, looking as if he was just about to exit through the double doors when suddenly he turned around, head snapping upwards towards the direction of where you should be, just a few seconds before the lights flickered and went off. Then to your horror, he too, like Sunghoon, vanished.
You gasped as you zoomed in the clip to identify who he was though the graininess and blurriness of the clip due to the distance and the night vision was making it almost impossible. It didn’t help that you could only see his face for some 5 seconds before he disappeared. Amidst the graininess however, his eyes had that eerie tapetum lucidum glow which is common among nocturnal predators – the same glow you remembered seeing in the maniac who had attacked you in the alleyway as well as in campus. In fact his eyes glowed so much that it was almost similar the reflective stripes he had on the shoulder of his jackets, which you swore you’ve seen somewhere.
“Sorry, I took too long. Did you managed to find the clip you were looking for?”
You jumped, startled, turning around to see Jungwon beaming softly at you as he took his cap off and unzipped his jacket.
“No worries. I was just trying to figure out how to make the resolution better-“ your voice trailed off as you watched Jungwon turned around to take his waterproof Security jacket off and hang it on a nearby coathanger. The stripes, you stared in apprehension as you recognised it to be the same with the man in the camera – two stripes on each shoulders, both reflective.
“Hey, Jungwon? Did you bring that jacket with you yesterday to the Ball?” you asked carefully as you rose up, alert. He hummed in affirmation, “yeah, I changed in campus so the jacket was all I had to protect me from the sudden snow – why?”
“Nothing,” you plastered a smile as you grabbed your phone from the table, raking your brains for excuses to leave the room, “Oh, it’s getting late. I should head back soon, someone is waiting for me.”
You noticed the way his grin faltered, as if noticing something amiss, “so soon?” he asked, craning his neck, trying to peek at the screen behind you, “is that yesterday? anything interesting?”
“Oh nothing, I just lost my money and wanted to see if someone had took it from my purse but apparently not. I guess I must have misplaced them-” you turned around abruptly, about to close the window which showed CCTV angle you had enlarged earlier when suddenly you felt his hand over yours on the mouse, stopping you from doing so. You swallowed thickly as you felt his chest pressing against your back, feeling trapped between him and the table.
“You sure about that? Because you’re obviously zooming on someone else,” he muttered in a low voice before whispering raspily against your ear, “I guess I should drop the façade now.”
You jerked away from him, horrified, as it dawned on you immediately how his whispering voice was similar to that of the man who had pushed you down the stairs in the South Wing. You teetered backwards in terror – now realising, with his back against the light, how he bears so much resemblance to the man: the tapered chin, the bony wide shoulders, and the thin-lipped murderous grin. You wasted no second then, turning around and running for the door but Jungwon was quicker as he slammed the door back shut just as you opened it, “too slow,” he whispered before you suddenly feel yourself getting yanked and flung to the side, pillowing against a stack of empty boxes at the corner.
You groaned as you mustered all your strength to sit up – not that it would have mattered though for he had climbed on top of you and straddled you in place within seconds, “It was fun while it lasted-“
You feel your heart sink as you watch his face contort almost effortlessly into a wicked expression as if that could have been his resting face. His gaze, which always somehow lent you some form of comfort, was now glazed with malice. His lips which always curved sweetly like a form of reassurance was now all twisted devilishly. You realised then just how trapped and silly you have been – essentially jumping out of the frying pan into the fire – thinking you were safe with Jungwon, only for him to be as much of a hazard as Sunghoon.
“You’re—” you croaked, feeling the dread and trepidation rising as you saw the way his canines fully erupt into razor-sharp fangs now, “what have I ever done to you? Why are you doing this?”
“Initially, you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time…” he drawled as he brought his hand up to your face, finger tracing your jawline agonisingly slowly, “then I found out about your relations with Sunghoon and the power I seemingly have over him whenever you’re with me –“
“What are you saying?! We’re not together—”
“Don’t play dumb,” he growled, the grin faltering, “if it weren’t for wanting you all to himself, I wouldn’t have been left nearly bloodless by an alley, only to be picked up by some other freaks like him and turned into one-“ he heaved an exasperated sigh, hands clenching in frustration, “—doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t turn back the time and I can’t really beat him so-“ he grabbed your collar, tugging it to reveal your neck, eyes glazed in what looked like hunger, “I’ll just hurt him where it hurts the most.”
You feel your heart quicken, hand discreetly slipping into your pocket, grasping the swiss army knife which you had decided to carry along at the last minute earlier. “You’re mistaken, I am nothing to him,” you jabbered, trying to distract him and find the right time to attack him, “he hates me and if you kill me, you’re just doing the dirty work for him.”
“Stop lying,” he chastised, his hand fisting your collar, “he was the one who saved you that time when I almost killed you and yesterday too – ah fuck, if he hadn’t caught up to you, I swear you’d be shreds.”
Sunghoon what? You thought to yourself, eyes shaky in utter disbelief and confusion but as your time was ticking, you had more urgent things to worry about. With the way Jungwon had been bitterly talking about Sunghoon so far, you figured you could use that against him so you lied, “then you should know that Sunghoon is the one I am supposed to be meeting and since I’m not there, he’s probably heading here – you’re going to be the one torn to shreds Jungwon.“
He chucked devilishly as he wrapped his hand over your neck, using his thumb to strain it sideward for a better angle, “well I’ve got to hurry then…” his expressions darkened, “Look at that—your mark is still there. I knew it looked familiar. Well, I should bite you over here too then – that would drive your Sunghoon completely off the rails to see his toy got permanently re-marked and killed in such a way-“
“no you wont-“ you hissed as you drove the swiss knife onto his upper arm with as much strength as you could muster, causing him to back up in pain, groaning and muttering expletives. You took the opportunity to kick him off, scrambling quickly back to your feet though the victory was short-lived as he lunged towards you, knocking you down again. “Playtime’s over,” he growled, dragging you back and yanking your shirt off your shoulders aggressively before dipping his head onto the crook of your neck, sending you thrashing harder under his weight as he lapped on a particular spot on your neck.
“Fuck you, get off me, get the fuck off me-“ you protested but his hands around your neck only tightened, constricting your airways and your screams, as you feel the tip of his fangs press onto your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the worse. The next thing you knew however, the weight and pressure was lifted, and air rushed into your lungs so suddenly and rapidly, that you were reduced to a coughing mess. You could hear struggles and scuffles in the background followed by the sound of furniture toppling and glass breaking from the other end of the room.
Then silence.
Clambering back up to your feet, you stared in horror at the state of the room with files and furnitures toppled and a large broken window right at the corner, as if someone just ran through it, before you realise, as your eyes travelled down, legs peeking out from behind the shelves that concealed the area, seemingly motionless and covered in glass shards. Almost on auto-pilot, you hobbled towards the person – dread and trepidation rising at the thought that the person, who had saved you, might have been gravely hurt. Or worse, killed. Jungwon is after all a vampire with a body count.
As you rounded the corner, to your surprise, slumped against the wall on the floor, with shards of broken glass all over was Sunghoon – head thrown back, eyes shut, with a darkened patch on his shirt over the chest area. Realising how it was blood, you immediately flung towards him, any hatred you felt for him dissipating as panic seized you, “hey-“ you shook him, your hand almost recoiling at how cold he was to the touch, “Sunghoon, wake up- hey wake up-“
“I’m not dead yet,” you hear him mumble weakly, eyes opening to mere slits – the golden irises peeking through. You fell back in relief, exhaling sharply, “– that's a relief.”
He scoffed weakly, “you’re going to regret that and wished I was instead.”
“Shut up,” you reprimanded as you knelt beside him, dusting the shards of glass off of him as your eyes scanned around the room for something that could have stymie his bleeding. You grabbed a table cloth nearby, balling it, as you turned back to face him – alarmed at the way the patch had grown. "You're–" you pressed the cloth onto his chest, seeing it get rapidly soaked up, "– profusely bleeding. Aren't you supposed to be invincible?"
"I'm fine," he mustered but you weren't convinced at all and quickly you used your free hand to fish your phone out, about to dial the emergency services for help when you hear him groan weakly as he readjusted himself against the wall behind him, “no need to call for help- just go…”
“Go? Are you crazy?” you protested, scooting closer instead to apply more pressure, “what if you die?”
You watched in confusion as his hand slowly crept up your hand that was holding the cloth, his fingers lacing yours from the back of your hand, “I won’t die easily,” he muttered, bringing your hand close to your lips, as his eyes glowed brighter which you now understood like some sort of telltale sign of hunger or anger, “but you, y/n, will, if you stay any longer around me.”
You noticed then that there was blood dripping by the side of your palm to which Sunghoon suddenly licked. You flinched, not just from the action, but from the stinging pain, only realising then that you had unknowingly injured yourself, probably from the glass shards you were dusting off earlier, “do you see the predicament you are in right now y/n?”
You swallowed thickly, trying to look unaffected even as your heartbeat started picking up, “not until you get help Sunghoon. Just tell me who to call then if not emergency services—"
Suddenly he lunged towards you, toppling you over with ease, completely dwarfing you, “look, I think you’re mistaken,” he huffed, eyes flitting to your neck and you swore you could see murder in his eyes and it was all quickly engulfing you in a paralyzing sense of déjà vu to that evening when he bit you, “I didn’t save you out of some noble reason. I did it simply because you’re my meal and I won’t let anyone else ravish you.”
You breathing became increasingly laboured the longer you stared into his piercing eyes – almost as if he was doing something to your mind, conjuring the worst of memories, inciting the worst of emotions – as he prodded on, “Also, you’re my prey so no one else get to lay a hand on you even if that would have made my life easier.”
He suddenly backed up slightly, giving you enough space and chance to run away, “I love some cat and mouse game so I’d rather catch you when I’m at my best,” he brushed his hair back, brows raised threateningly, “so you better run now before I regain my full strength.”
You propped yourself back up groggily, eyes locking into his as if trying to probe the depth of his mind, as if not wanting to believe the sadistic things he has been sprouting, as if wanting to believe that he really had saved you for noble reasons and not for whatever possessive and obsessive bullshit he had been sprouting.
“I said... run!” he repeated, this time, more domineeringly and that somehow did it for you. As if a switch had been turned inside of you, your body assumed a life of its own, powering through self-preservation as you recoiled from him and made a run for the door. Everything after that was a blur — potentially distorted through a series of heightened fear, adrenaline, intense pain and disjointed confusion. All you could remember was running out of the library, out of the wing, out of the compound — not stopping once until your legs buckled from exhaustion by the side of a bus stop, landing hardly against the tarmac floor. The cut where he had licked now oozed even more blood, dripping onto the concrete floor – as if mirroring the way your mental state was fraying.
— vi.
You hardly left your home throughout Winter Break, coming up with all sorts of excuses not to join Sunoo in the library when it would have usually been the other way around – with you egging him to join you since exams were just around the corner. Eventually the new semester rolled in and fortunately or rather, miraculously, you have yet to bump into Sunghoon even now that you were entering your 2nd week. You could see his name in the registrar sometimes and even saw his clique but he was never around. The image of him bleeding out on the floor continuously burnt at the back of your mind – like guilt haunting you excruciatingly with every day he is absent, redirecting your mind quickly to the worst scenario possible.
But that isn’t possible, is it?
After all, he is a vampire – a being that is supposed to have superhuman powers and regenerative abilities that wouldn’t just die from what look like a stab wound on the chest. But then again, you would find yourself wondering sometimes much to your consternation, if that isn’t the case then where is he?
Jungwon, too, had disappeared. The official word is that he had moved abroad after being offered a prestigious scholarship though you doubt there is any truth in that. After what he did to Sunghoon, it is just possible that Sunghoon had him killed. Or worse, he could just be yet another pawn in Sunghoon’s grand scheme of things – used to torment you and then paint himself as the white knight.
“Hey, can I sit here?”
You hummed in affirmation though your affable smile faltered as you turned and looked at who it was – Jake Sim. You swallowed thickly, eyes wandering wildly for any signs of Sunghoon. Thankfully, it was just him. “You’re… alone?” you couldn’t help but ask. He nodded, sporting his usual radiant and infectious smile, “the rest aren’t joining this module – none of them are a fan of this much math.”
“Sunghoon too?” you asked before internally cussing at how loose-lipped you suddenly became, almost as your lips had begun to have a life of its own. Thankfully, Jake thought nothing of it, just shaking his head as he took out his iPad, looking over his notes, “nah, he is in this with me but he’s just a bit under the weather lately.”
You straightened up in your seat, suddenly wary as the image of him bleeding out replay again and again in your mind like a broken tape, “he’s… he’s not hurt is he?”
“Nah,” Jake reassured, beaming widely, “don’t worry about it.”
You opened your mouth, wanting to prod more out of guilt, but closed it immediately, realising how you shouldn’t worry for someone who should have been the enemy. Thankfully, the lecturer entered just in time, preventing you from engaging in anymore meaningless chatter with Jake.
Life continued on peacefully for another week and gradually you have started to loosen up – no longer jolting to every sound, no longer looking over your shoulder abruptly and no longer on a vigilant lookout for danger when you were in a crowd.
But troubles soon brew within your own circle.
“No, I’m serious, it’s legitimate!” Sunoo sighed exasperatedly, the frustration evident on his face and strained voice as he paced haphazardly in front of you and Ni-Ki, “I don’t know the exact connections they have to the cases, but they were wrought in it for sure.”
You handed back his file, which had now been filled with sightings report and pictures of Sunghoon and clique, trying to feign disinterest and nonchalance though your heart was drumming against your chest. “Sunoo, the culprit has been caught. There’s nothing we can do–” you looked away from him, shifting your attention back to your work as you feared that you might crack if you look any longer into Sunoo’s pleading eyes, “–unless you get more concrete evidence like I don’t know, them dragging a dead body or something.”
Ni-Ki nodded, leaning back against his seat unconcernedly, “yeah and come on this is Heeseung and his friends you’re suspecting – you need more than evidence to take them down.”
Sunoo scoffed, looking completely dejected and betrayed as he looked from Ni-Ki to you. You felt your heart sank when you met his eyes which was glinting with sadness and what looked like betrayal as he backed away, “Fine. I’ll just pursue this on my own then. Apparently two of my closest friends don’t have enough backbone to fight the status quo nor enough loyalty to support me.”
“Sunoo-“ you called out, hopping off your chair to go after him but Ni-Ki grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you, “he’s in an emotional doldrum right now and no amount of reason could get through that y/n. You might just get into a bigger fight with him if you continue.”
You sighed weakly, agreeing, looking forlornly at the swinging door that he had stormed off through – the guilt was gnawing inside of you. This would have been the perfect time to divulge what you knew about Sunghoon to Sunoo and perhaps devise a plan to get him now that you knew the truth about him and his potential weakness. But instead of doing just that, you lied to your own bestfriend and covered for the enemy for reasons you never dared to ponder about.
You tried to reassure yourself that night that this was just one of Sunoo's momentary outbursts – that he will come around, as he always does. He was after all one of the most non-egotistical and selfless person you have ever known – essentially the personification of sunshine. So it really boggled and worried you to see Sunoo adamantly still seething towards you and Ni-Ki even after a few days, ignoring you both very blatantly – especially you, as if you betrayed him.
But then again, had he known the truth you have been withholding, he wasn’t wrong. It would constitute a betrayal. Though you honestly don’t know who you were doing it for. You knew on one hand you were doing it to protect Sunoo. After all, he used to be a sickly kid whose condition can deteriorate rapidly even with the slightest ailment or injury. Hence knowing the kind of danger Sunghoon poses, you couldn’t help but be paternalistic over him. On the other hand, perhaps your boggling actions also stemmed from wanting to call it even with Sunghoon who has, after all, saved you numerous times. You understood very well that, as he asserted, he hadn’t saved you for noble reasons but still saving is saving, without his actions of which, you would have long been dead.
That evening however, as you were getting lulled into a sleeping state, your phone rang. You were going to just ignore it as it was midnight but with Sunoo on the caller ID, you immediately answered it, falling off the couch in panic, “Sunoo, I-“
“Hey calm down-,” he shushed you, “I told you I’ll get evidence.”
“What do you mean?” you asked warily, already getting an inkling that he was up to no good.
“Well, I’m loitering around in their hang-out place now and guess what? They have a secret door leading out to the basement-“
“Kim Sunoo!” you gasped, trying to reorient yourself as you were still groggy from the nap. You grabbed your coat, foot already at the door within seconds, fumbling with your keys, “you better step out of there now! What if they find you?”
“Well, they have no business having a whole ass secret basement in the first place. They should explain that to me first before anything,” he reasoned sassily, “also, don’t worry. My sources told me that they’re currently at a party in the neighbouring town so you know, this is place is free real estate right now.’
“Sunoo don’t-“ you sighed, stopping yourself, fearing that reprimanding him further will just make him distance himself again. “I’ll go with you then okay?” you lied, already shuffling past the hallways and out of your accommodation block, “Can you just get out of there now please? Wait for me in the courtyard or something. We’ll venture in together then. You said it yourself, I’m smart and two heads are better than one so–”
“Really?" he gasped. You can almost hear his signature smile from his tone as he cheerily agreed, "You’re the best- all right, I’ll go out now."
Except, after 15 minutes of waiting for him by the courtyard, he failed to show up nor pick up his calls, making you antsy. Fearing the worst, you headed to campus, marching towards the Wing where their hangout room was. You begrudgingly approached the huge door that lay at the end of the hallway, which was already ajar. The door, designed in a Gothic Architectural style, was imposing with huge columns on either side, gargoyles on top, intricate carvings on the arch and a golden wolf knocker by the center of the door, completing the grimness of it, as if blatantly warning of the danger that would befall the fools who dare to trespass. In fact, no one had actually been in the room except for the guys themselves so again, rumours are abound of what lay behind the massive door. But none of that mattered now – you needed to get to Sunoo, fast.
You held your breath as you push the door slightly, just enough to slip yourself in. You had to quell the gasp that automatically arose in you as you ventured further into the room – a massive, gothic architecture, common room that seemed more fitting for societies and clubs than just for some group of 4 rich kids to hang around in.
Despite the vaulted ceilings and tall windows, the room was grim and dark thanks to its monochromatic grey walls and furniture with the only splash of colour being from the curtains and rugs, of which were in hunter green; coat of arms, similar to what Sunghoon wore on his lapel during the Ball, of which featured a ruby gem in the centre; and an array of paintings – all of which had dark colour palettes and feature grim images that rhymes with death, despair, desolation, you name it.
You looked around frantically for any sign of door or staircase but all you see are windows, walls, arches and bookcases, wondering how in the world had Sunoo gotten to the basement. Reminded of the secret passage in the library, it occurred to you that perhaps the entrance is hidden.
As you looked around specifically for something out of place, your eyes couldn’t help but return to the tall bookcase in the corner. You approached it, eying every spot carefully and touching anything that looked remotely out of place before your eyes settled on a rather conspicuous book with navy blue spine and nothing but the symbol ' ; ' on it – an embossing that somehow bear resemblance to a bite mark. You tugged on it, wanting to see what kind of book it was when suddenly as you pulled it to a certain angle, the book case shifted, swinging halfway to reveal a winding staircase.
The staircase was anything but welcoming but you went down anyway with Sunoo in the forefront of your mind. Unlike the dark and sombre common room upstairs, the basement, still in gothic architecture was more brightly-lit but still barren and cold, resembling grimly more like a crypt. You looked around the maze-like crypt, firing off multiple texts to Sunoo to enquire on his whereabouts. Your ears soon perked up when you heard his notification sound softly echoing, seemingly coming from the other side. You followed the passage way, finding a door laying by the end as you round the bend, with muffled voices becoming increasingly audible as you get closer. You carefully positioned yourself behind the door, which was already ajar, holding your breath as you carefully tried to peak through the space. You hand immediately flew to your mouth, stifling the gasps that you almost let out, as you saw Sunoo laying unconscious on the floor.
“He should have heeded our warning—” you heard a familiar voice – the owner of which suddenly appearing into your field of vision, crouching down by Sunoo, inspecting the papers strewn next to his body. It was Heeseung. You gulped, positioning your phone in between the gaps carefully to record the scene in case anything happen. You listened to him continue to say something to someone else in the room, “—we’ve been delaying it too much. It’s time to get rid of him.”
You swallowed thickly, your hands shaking as you carefully edge your phone, trying to capture the other side of the room where the other man he was talking to were. Your breath suddenly hitched when you caught the man in your viewfinder – it was Sunghoon, whose attention suddenly then flitted from Sunoo to the door, as if detecting your presence. You immediately recoiled, holding your phone straight to your chest – fervently hoping that you hadn’t been caught.
“What is it?” you heard Heeseung asked, to which Sunghoon fortunately just shook his head to, “it’s nothing.”
Shit shit shit, you cussed in your head, the possibility of Heeseung also being a vampire now dawning in your mind – along with the rest of clique, Jake and Jay, who also frequents this room. It was only now, in hindsight, was it all falling well into place: the way some are part of the Student Union and therefore, Student Patrols; the way Heeseung was adamant in stopping Sunoo’s investigation; the way Heeseung warned you not to tell anyone of your attack in campus. Only now you realised that there was a reason why these lads were shrouded in so much secrecy and mystery in the first place – with an air that is difficult to place surrounding them, straddling somewhere between hypnotising allure and sinisterness.
You raked your brain for what to do next. Sunoo was lying unconscious in the hands of people who would be more than capable and ready to kill him. Yet if you barge in, you can’t save him either and the incriminating evidence you have as well as the knowledge of their true selves, would just die with you. Quickly you sent the video off to Ni-Ki along with a quick text on where you are, asking him to come quick, only to be hit by a notification that there were no service. Shit, you cussed again internally, deciding to hurry back to where you came from to get service, promising Sunoo in your head that you will definitely come back for him.
Except as you turned the bend, a figure materialised right before you. You gasped, teetering backwards. It was Sunghoon – his head tilted in such a condescending way, “Not sure if I should commend your bravery or foolishness for walking into the tiger’s den willingly like this.”
You were about to open your mouth to protest but found yourself shoved into a nearby room in a flash – a small reading room of some sort. “Stay back you psycho,” you hissed, backing away and maintaining the distance.
“Well you should have run when you could have. Should have snitched when you could have. Too late now is it?” he sneered, blocking the only exit in the room.
“Let Sunoo go,” you demanded, trying to mask the trepidation rising within. He scoffed disdainfully. He never actually planned to hurt Sunoo but he played along anyway, totally enjoying the power he has over you whenever Sunoo enters the equation, "he did trespass where he shouldn't have, you know."
"He didn't mean to. He's probably just curious like everybody else about what lies behind your lofty door," you tried to reason. He raised both brows, sarcastically feigning surprise and interest, "Oh? is that why we found some of our documents and a bunch of pictures in his bag? Just curiousity?"
"I'll get him to apologize," you offered, pleading almost, "or you know what, I'll apologize on behalf of him. I'll even get on my knees–"
"y/n, stop–" he rolled his eyes, "apologies and kneeling down may feed the egos and pride of humans but they mean nothing to my kind – not me at least and definitely not when it comes from a mere mortal."
"There is no such thing as free lunch," you blurted, stopping him as he was about to exit the room, "you quoted that aphorism to me remember? then I'll make you a deal in exchange of letting Sunoo go, unharmed."
He approached you at a glacial pace, the fireplace nearby casting his shadow ominously behind him, making him loom larger than usual, “and what could you ever offer that I possibly don’t and can’t have?”
“My blood.”
A quick twitch of the brow and slight tipping of the corner of his lips flashed almost imperceptibly across his inscrutable face, the interest and desire cracking through unwittingly. “Are you offering yourself as a bloodbag for him? How noble,” he scoffed, “and disgusting – what are you two, Romeo and Juliet?”
“Aren’t you being too mouthy for someone in need?”
“Back to you. I’m holding both you and your beloved Sunoo’s life in my hands and you’re still acting up?” he suddenly lunged towards you, shoving you against the cold wall. Though in the heat of emotions, he had failed to see that you had quickly grabbed the swiss army knife from the pocket of your jacket, flipped it open and now, just as his hands were wrapped around your neck, threatening to choke you, your knife was already pointing dangerously on his chest, threatening to re-puncture him where he was injured. His brows shot up, a grin of disbelief tugging on his lips – both amazed and vexed by your fast reflex and unrelenting defiance, “nice effort but that puny knife won’t do jackshit on me-“
His grin faltered as your expressions moulded into that of mocking delight, “sure about that?”
He looked down in a horrifying realisation that instead of puncturing him, you had turned the knife, grasping it by the blade instead, the blood now dripping onto his shoes, the scent of which was quickly engulfing his senses. When his eyes flitted back to yours, it was already golden and his canines were already elongating into full fangs. That was all you needed, “well, seems like I have the upper hand.”
He snarled, his hand tightening over your neck, like a snake constricting its prey before swallowing them whole, eyes narrowing murderously at you, “you know I can just kill you and drain the life out of you right?”
“Yes, but you never did. What's really stopping you?” you gritted your teeth, feeling the pressure suffocating you. Just when you felt the air almost knocked out of your lungs, he released you. You fell onto the hard ground, hunched up, violently grasping for air.
"Just because I haven't doesn't mean I won't. I like to saviour my meals," he crouched down in front of you. You stared back into his tantalizing stare through eyes that were still wet from your coughing fit, “your eyes are already glowing, I don't think you have the luxury for mind games right now. I meant what I said – leave Sunoo the fuck alone.”
The way you offered yourself was everything he had schemed for – even better than forcefully taking it away from you. After all, for someone rebellious and iconoclastic like you, giving yourself up like that is probably equivalent to stomping on your pride. This was exactly the kind that would feed his ego. At the same time, he also hated it. He hated how you were so willing to give yourself up just for that weakling Sunoo even when he wasn’t going to hurt him in the first place.
He wanted so bad to not yield in, to toy you further in the way that best butter up his inflated sense of self. But most of all, sillily, he wanted you to give in to him for him not for anyone else’s sake.
But you were right, he doesn’t have the luxury to hold on to his pride, not at the moment at least, when the scent of your blood was slowly engulfing his senses and tainting every bit of rationality he had left. It didn’t help that he hadn’t been feasting on live blood either which in turn slowed down the healing of his injuries – all of which just made your blood all the more enticing and irresistible. He grabbed your chin harshly, jerking your face upwards towards him, “Fine. I’ll take your offer but there would be no resisting and no excuses. If I want it, I’ll get it.”
You narrowed your eyes, grimacing at the thought, but you swallowed you pride, “only if you promise to get my consent first and not drain me lifeless.”
You know the fragility of words and promises but if there is anything you learnt from him is that he seemed to hold himself to such high dignified and noble standards that something as simple as breaking a promise would have been a blow to his pride. You thought too, perhaps it’s the chase that he was obsessed with – which you think would best be countered with perhaps, not outwitting and one-upping him, but rather, cutting the chase abruptly. If the chase is what drives him high, then your prickliness and defiance would just be feeding him – like an unending Waltz. Thus you figured that you needed to end his chase, even if your pride is on the line.
“You’re awfully demanding,” his hand slowly crept down your neck, his fingers wrapping over the back of it, “your blood is the same as everyone else’s don’t you know that? It’s highly substitutable.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” you mocked.
“Fine,” he muttered resentfully, eyes already trained on a spot on your neck, about to launch forward to you when you stopped him, “not my neck,” you raised your hand towards him, “until you free Sunoo, you’re not getting it from where you want. That’s part of the deal remember? Consent?”
He scoffed. Sunghoon should have hated this. The way you’ve played him instead of the other way around but just like Jake said, so intricate had he weaved his webs for you, he couldn’t help but be ensnared in it as well. In fact, at this rate, it just seems like he’s the one getting ensnared deeper. Had you been just anyone else, he would have just lunged towards you, draining you in the vilest way he could. Unfortunately for him, you weren't just anyone else. You have become a someone. Someone who has struck a chord in him in ways that managed to stop himself from fully succumbing to his animalistic senses, to hold onto any last shred of rationality and sense even when it's hanging by a thread.
Begrudgingly, he silently complied, yanking your hand indiginantly, his fingers lacing over yours through the back of your hand like talons. Your shoulders tensed up as he brought your hand towards his lips, wincing when you felt his cold tongue brushing past the wound before he started sucking on it. You swallowed thickly at the sight, increasingly unnerved, as you watched him shut his eyes, his brows knitting in pleasure, his adam’s apple bobbing rapidly.
“That’s-“ you stuttered, starting to feel lightheaded after a few minutes, “that’s enough.”
His lids fluttered open, the golden irises peeking through almost ominously. He lifted his head slightly, a smirk already adorning his lips reflecting some sort of satisfaction and conceit, his tongue making a quick swipe over his blood-stained lips, “you think that was enough?”
The next thing you knew he had lunged towards you, toppling you down against the cold cement. With his large hand wrapped over the back of your neck, he titled your head awkwardly to the side as if readying your neck. You wedged an arm against him, trying to stop him from descending further, though with the crazed look in his eyes you wondered how long could you fend him for, “Park Sunghoon,” you protested, “you promised.”
He scoffed, prying your hand off of him easily, “ever heard of The Scorpion and The Frog fable?” he smirked, dipping his head onto the crook of your neck. You shuddered, feeling his hot breath against your skin, his lips ghosting just inches away. You feel his grip tightening and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hand clenching his shirt as if bracing yourself for the pain.
But the painful prick never came. Instead you feel his lips softly pressed over your skin before he started sucking on a particular spot in a gentler way, right over where your original bite mark was. “Gotcha,” he whispered and you jerked away from him, your fingers immediately feeling that spot – confused when you felt no puncture marks.
“Take that as a seal,” he backed up, eyes reverting to its normal colour.
It was only at home later you realised what he had meant when you saw the deep purple bruise on your neck – a harmless love bite – as his words repeated in your mind like some sort of siren song, “take that as a seal. A seal that you owe me. And when it fades – the original bite mark that remains underneath should remind you that I own you.”
— vii.
True to Sunghoon's words, Sunoo returned unharmed – having absolutely no recollection of venturing into Sunghoon’s lair and having little to no resolve any more in pursuing the case that he had been so obsessed about, something you were sure was also of Sunghoon’s doing.
Sunghoon, on the other hand, was sparsely around. Months passed without him pestering you nor asking you for what you owe him – something you were grateful about. Perhaps, as you projected, all it took to extinguish his obsession with you was indeed to cut the chase because since then, he had stopped bothering you. Just as quick as the bruise on your neck faded, you figured, the deal would no longer matter to him. Eventually the bruise fade and seasons pass, leaving only the brown puncture marks on your neck which never fully disappeared, lingering now permanently like a birthmark.
As another semester rolled and ended, you soon approached graduation season. By then you were fully convinced that normalcy has indeed returned. Until, that is, you received a sudden text from Sunoo one night announcing that he was going to Sunghoon’s hang-out spot again. The panic that is reminiscent of that fateful night immediately engulfed you and when your calls returned unanswered and rejected, eventually, you hopped off bed and ran back to campus, bursting into Sunghoon’s lair.
The room felt so still and void with no sign of Sunoo so you figured that maybe he had ventured to the basement again so you made your way towards the bookshelf when someone broke the silence.
“Sunoo must really be your Achilles Heel,” Sunghoon appeared from the shadows before throwing a phone onto the couch near you. It was Sunoo’s phone.
“Where is he?” you demanded, “you promised me you wouldn’t-“
“And I didn’t,” he smirked, leaning against a column haughtily, “he’s safe and sound in his home. Just probably panicking over the fact that he can’t find his phone.”
“What?” you managed, still breathless from all the running, “So you tricked me?”
“How else can I get you to come to me,” he raised his brows, arms folded, “Anyway, I’ve held my part of the deal, it’s time for you to hold yours.”
You swallowed thickly. Of course you’d never back away from your promise, not when he has held his, but the way his voice dropped and his gaze darkened was unnerving you, making you feel as if you were walking up a guillotine for your head. “Of course,” you replied, feigning nonchalance, “you didn’t have to trick me with Sunoo, I’d have come to you either way. It’s a promise after all.”
“Oh really?” he walked up to you, his footsteps echoing ominously in the grim room as his eyes begin to lighten in colour – a transition you had seen countless times now but still managed to struck dread in you, “with the way your heart is racing, I doubt that y/n.”
You scoffed, “I ran all the way, of course it’s racing. I’m not you with your slow beating heart or dead heart – whatever it is.”
His brows shot up, slightly taken aback but amused nevertheless – your defiance and answer-backs have always been entertaining, even when it’s irksome, “glad you clarified, I would’ve mistaken it for you being flustered by me, if not intimidated.”
“Cut the chase Sunghoon,” you shot him down, offering your hand, “blood is blood right? it shouldn't matter where it comes from so can't you just make a tear here and take it from here instead of my neck?"
Eyes locked on yours, you can almost see a flicker of irritation in his golden eyes, as he trailed his hand up yours before he gripped it, yanking you close towards him while the other hand swiftly snaked around your back, enrapturing you with him. “are you trying to make discounts right now?” he glowered, his hold as string as iron, as he lowered his face down to yours, his breath hot on your ears, “your neck is where the prize is.”
You furrowed your brows, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stood up. “Fine,” you scowled, “then do it fast, I can’t stand being so close to you.”
“Doesn’t sound like my problem,” he smirked as he suddenly hoisted you up the piano so you’ll be near eye-level with him. "What are yo-" you complained, completely taken aback, your hands fisting his clothes.
“aren’t you going to bare your neck for me?” he eyed your button up, “or you want me to rip it open for you instead?”
“Fuck you,” you spat, begrudgingly unbuttoning your top buttons, staring back at those eyes which were growing luminous by the second as if reflecting the intensity of the hunger inside while his grin grew wider the more skin you exposed. His hand snaked further up your back as he dipped his head and bury it on the crook of your neck. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he muttered breathily against your neck as his other hand wrapped itself tightly over the back of your neck to tilt it slightly, already getting lulled by the warmth radiating from your body and your perfume which was deliciously and intoxicatingly blending with the scent of your blood. As his lips grazed your neck, he felt a spark of electricity – a hint of something more than just hunger.
You flinched when you suddenly felt his fangs puncture your skin – a prickle of pain which quickly diffuses as the weird feeling of haziness set in. Your breath hitched when you feel him bury himself deeper onto the crook of your neck, his nails digging onto your back as the taste of your blood engulfed all of his senses, igniting fire in his veins, setting it all ablaze. Feeling increasingly lulled, your hand automatically flew to his shoulders, holding onto him for support unwittingly.
Sunghoon could feel the hunger within him growing with every drop but perplexingly, the more he drank, the less satiating your blood became, and yet the hunger burns still – as if indicating that there was another hunger growing entrenched that needed sating and it wasn't blood. He pulled back slightly, confused, as he stared onto your neck – now freshly punctured, blood oozing down. You remembered feeling relief when he stopped as you really thought, at the rate at which he was frenzily feeding on you, he would have lost control.
The relief however was short-lived when you felt him plant what felt like a kiss on the spot. You furrowed your brows, utterly confused, only to be jolted back to reality when he did it again, now trailing kisses up your neck. You jerked your head away from him weakly, alarmed, only to be met by a gaze that was so searing and electric with desire – unnerving you more than his hunger-filled gaze ever had. "What are y-" you were going to ask but he never let you finished as he smashed his lips onto yours so hungrily, so urgently, so passionately – impatiently deepening the kiss with so much ferocity as if in a drunken stupor. Struggling to push him off, you leaned back slightly instead, just enough to wedge an arm against him to stop him from descending further while you extended your other hand behind you to prop yourself up against the piano lid. "Sunghoon, what are you doing?!" you demanded breathlessly.
"Isn't this a lesser evil than sucking your blood?" he muttered breathily, eyes completely glazed with lust. Suddenly you feel him grab the back of your thighs, pulling close towards him, causing you to lose your balance as he completely engulfed your frame, pushing you against the piano lid as he recaptured your lips in a fiery kiss. This time, more hungrily, more desperately, more aggressively – completely out of character for him – as if mirroring the unrelenting desire and yearning within, the repression of which was now overspilling uncontrollably. Crushing your body completely against his, he deepened the kiss further – almost urgently – parting your lips so adeptly and slipping his tongue into your mouth, causing you to protest harder though he easily pried your hand off of him, holding it with vice-like grip.
You eventually started to feel lightheaded, your strength quickly dissipating. As you floated in and out of your consciousness, you feel him trailing drunk and hungry kisses down your neck, then your collarbone, his hand tugging your cloths down your shoulders, his nails digging onto your skin possessively.
Then it all went to black.
— viii.
You jolted awake, sitting upright and panting as if you just had a really bad dream. Your hand instinctively reached for your neck and you felt some fresh puncture marks where the old mark used to be. That was when you knew, it wasn’t a dream at all. Well, at least I’m still alive, you were thinking to yourself before realising the unfamiliar bed you were sitting upright on and the unfamiliar black silk slip dress you were wearing. You stared up, aghast, only realising that the bane of your existence was seated on an armchair just opposite of bed, looking visibly amused.
You protectively gathered the blanket around you, trying to cover every inch of your exposed skin, “where am— why are you— what have you done to me?”
As if the circumstances you were in wasn’t questionable enough, the way he sloppily wore his ivory patterned silk shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned in a way that partially exposed his chest, was further shoring it. It was just too casual and leisurely compared to the usual Sunghoon, who had always been neatly dressed to the nines.
“Oh darling,” he drawled as he rose up, walking at a glacial place towards the bed before resting his hands against the top of the footboard, “I’m offended you forgot about what we did. It was pretty wild. Sorry about your clothes though, couldn’t help but rip them to shreds in the heat of the mome-“
You threw a pillow at him, not even letting him finish, as you feel the heat rising up your cheeks, reminded of the way he had ferociously kissed you, the way his lips had trailed over your skin, and the way his hands roamed possessively over you. “Stop playing around,” you balked. He scoffed as he brushed his dishevelled hair back. You realised then that was the first time you’ve seen him with his hair down, since it was always slicked or parted in a way that revealed his forehead, and it was somehow making him look softer than usual – as if he could do no harm though the sly grin and the taunting gaze on his face begged to differ.
He grabbed something from a nearby table, offering it to you, "Stop with the scowling now, I was only joking. Here, take this – it’s a silk robe to cover you if you want. Unless you want to stay under that blanket all day.”
You snatched it begrudgingly from his hand as he continued, “you passed out. Apparently, your blood hasn’t recuperated yet so even my meagre consumption last night caused you to black out. I had a doctor and a nurse over last night to check and replenish you. You should consider taking iron pills and multivitamins you know – you’re borderline anaemic.”
“And whose fault was it in the first place?” you remarked sarcastically as you put on the black silk robe, “anyway, that should be enough signs for you to find a better bloodbag don’t you think? This one is a dud.”
“not in your lifetime,” he quipped.
You furrowed your brows, “well you certainly weren’t just drinking my blood last night.”
“Ah right –,” his brows shot up, a smug grin tugging the corner of his lips, “apparently I wasn’t just hungry for blood. Not when your lips were in such proximity. Also, like I said, wasn't it a lesser evil compared to blood? you won't risk dying."
“I’d rather die, you insufferable prick,” you spat, plastering the fakest and most sarcastic grin you could muster. Sunghoon just smiled bitterly at that. Perhaps eloquence was never his strong suit. Perhaps all the deaths he had to take care of and witnessed over the decades had hardened him. Perhaps his rather strict and disciplined upbringing had skewed his personality in such a way that emotions are to be relegated to the bottom, beneath all else. Whatever it was, he could never compel himself to say the utmost truth to you – disguising everything instead in the most vicious and selfish nonsense he could muster. Sometimes, it almost felt as if he was trying to convince himself, not just you, that it was all just primal desires and nothing more.
“Give me my clothes back,” you demanded, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I’ve chucked it away – it’s all bloodied with some buttons ripped off. Hence, your current get-up—” he gestured, “don’t worry, a female housekeeper was the one who had helped you change but she misunderstood the context and put you into a rather seductive change of outfit. I’m not really complaining thou–” he trailed off, his eyes travelling down your body before you snapped him out of it, “my eyes are up here genius.”
“Sorry, it’s just a bit too distracting,” he cleared his throat, “— anyway, as I was saying, I had someone go and buy more change of clothes for you to change into. You would have to wait though, we’re currently far from the city centre.”
“Then lend me your clothes.”
“I don’t have any,” he replied instantaneously, “I just bought this mansion not too long ago so it's still pretty barren of my stuffs."
It was lie. A lie just so that he can make you stay longer – something out of character for him given how he never liked to linger around his partners. A lie that completely juxtaposed his belief that it was all just primal desires.
“I told you someone is coming with some new change of clothes. Just a few more minutes or hours of wait shouldn’t hurt. Unless you’re comfortable going out in that,” he cocked his head smugly as you eyed your get-up. It definitely was too revealing and probably too inappropriate for your standards as it looked more like a nightgown to be walking around in broad daylight in.
“As if it’s safe to stay here any longer than necessary with you,” you grumbled.
“Let’s just say if I wanted to do something bad to you, I would have already done it,” he muttered as a matter of factly, “you were, after all, passed out for more than 24 hours in a rather seductive dress.”
You glared at him, speechless now.
“Anyway, I’ll get you some food while waiting. You must be famished.”
Just primal desires, he repeated. As if he hadn’t personally tell his cook to make all the dishes that you liked, telling him in minute details how you liked your dish more on the salty side; how you didn't like broccolis and carrots; how you liked your steak medium rare – he knew it so well like the back of his hand. Just primal desires, he reassured himself. As if he hadn’t been selflessly nursing and caring for you all night, mind constantly occupied in worries and guilt for putting you in harm's way.
“I’m not hungry–" you retorted.
"You are. You passed out for more than 24 hours, you need to eat.”
“Well, I don’t want to. I want to go home,” you insisted, adamant.
Eyes locked onto you icily, he leaned down towards you, his hands resting against the mattress, on either side of your thighs, “look, we’re deep in the forest, away from the city. There are no public transport around here and little to no service, so your ticket out of this place is me and unless you eat, you’re not going anywhere.”
Just primal desires, he told himself again just as he spun the web further around you, getting increasingly lulled by the vision before him: you in his bed, in his mansion, away from the city. It was a perfect vision: just you and him, safely tucked away from all the noise, from everyone else. Just you for him.
“You can’t force me.”
“You want to try me?” he raised his brows tauntingly, “because I will carry you downstairs if you insists. I will spoonfeed you if I have to. Or better, I’ll just put the food in my mouth and pass it to you through-“
You shoved him away, vexed, as you rose up from the bed, “you’re such a domineering prick.”
“Only because you’re always so indomitable,” he quipped, looking satisfied even when he had just called you names. You begrudgingly followed him as he led you out of the room through a series of corridors, a grand staircase, past the living room and finally to the kitchen. Unlike his loft which was in modern architecture last time, this place was in Gothic Architecture, just like their hang-out room but with lots of painting, sculptures and books though no amount of adornment could offset the grimness of the place.
Over the dining table was a selection of mouth-watering food – the quality of which looked as if it came from a Michelin-starred restaurant. “I can’t eat these,” you muttered, arms folded, “how do I know you haven’t poisoned them? And how do I know if it isn’t human meat?”
“That’s a very uncivilised and savage take on us. We don’t eat human flesh,” he corrected.
“Still doesn’t root out poisoning,” you insisted, “if you want me to eat then cook something up for me now and let me watch. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”
“You’re very distrustful.”
“I’d be stupid not be after all you put me through,” you snapped.
“Fine,” he exhaled sharply as he moved to the kitchen. You took a seat by the island, watching his every moves like a hawk as he took ingredients out of the fridge and lay it all out in front of you, "happy now?" he asked, gesturing at the frozen chicken meat. He then proceeded to chop up some aromatics so adeptly, as if he had done this a million times, after setting a pot to boil.
"How you even know how to cook? you guys don’t really eat and even if you do I’m pretty sure you have a cook to do that for you, no?”
“We don’t derive any satisfaction from eating anything but consuming blood so yes, we don’t really eat. But we’ve lived alongside humans for so long, we’ve got to learn the trade somehow,” he proceeded to wash the chicken meat – cleaning it so adeptly and meticulously with salt, lemon and vinegar. You soon got distracted by the pictures that lined the walls in the dining room – some of which featured him and his clique in garbs from different eras though they looked the same physically – only slightly younger and shorter in a few pictures. You looked back at him, scrutinising him when his eyes flitted to you, "are you wondering how old I am?”
“No. Why would I be curious about you?”
“Around 120,” he smirked relishing in the way your eyes widened and the way you pressed your lips together to suppress a gasp, “that’s the equivalent of 20s in human age by the way.”
“Do you guys just stop ageing physically beyond a certain threshold or something?”
“I thought you said you weren’t interested,” he gibed as he began frying – the scent soon filling the air deliciously, making your mouth water, "We do. But physically, it kind of slows down once we enter our teen. Usually at a rate of 1 year for every 10 human years or something.”
Looking over his shoulders, he asked, “Anything else you’re interested about? I’ll entertain. I’d rather be interrogated than be glowered at. You’re starting bore holes on my back.”
You lifted both of your legs up on the stool, hugging your knees close to your chest as you pondered carefully. You had a lot of questions truth to be told but after insisting that you had nothing to be curious about when it comes to him – that would be embarrassing. That being said, one pertinent question continue to burn in the back of your mind and no amount of pride could quell the curiosity behind that. “Did you kill them?” you finally asked after bouts of hesitation.
He switched off the stove and turned around, placing the pan onto a mat on the island, his eyes meeting yours in that signature chilling precision, “you mean am I the actual town’s serial killer?” he stretched his hands against the marble island, brows raised expectantly, gaze locked onto yours, “what do you think?”
You stared back into his eyes, scanning his face for any microchange in expressions that could've served as a hint. "No," you answered.
“That’s surprising,” he leaned back, arms folded, “thought you think of me as the big bad wolf?”
“I used to think you might have something to do with it,” you muttered honestly, “but I no longer think it has to do with the killing. Probably more on the covering up.”
He turned his attention back to the stove, attending the sauce that he had already started cooking earlier, “You’re correct. I didn’t kill any of them.”
“Was it Jungwon?”
“He was responsible for a couple of them,” he muttered without looking at you, “but it was a combination of other stray vampires too – the ‘unnaturals’ we call them. They are human-turned vampires – which has been alarmingly on the rise in this town over the past few years. There aren’t really any good reason to turn human into vampires unless you’re psychotic because ‘unnaturals’ are hard to control as you need to keep them constantly guided, trained and supervised – without which they'd just run amok, turning into a bloodthirsty fiend that pose risks to both humans, and us alike, risking our exposure.”
“So you covered the murders?”
You could see him nodding briefly as he turned around, plating the food neatly onto a plate, “since we are the official pure bloods currently residing in this town – the council of elders sought our help both to maintain order and catch the culprit.”
“So you're doing something good in a sense?” you raised your brows, “but still, you did bite the head cheerleader and Jungwon.”
“And you, too,” he added nonchalantly as he placed the meal he had cooked up in front of you, “Well I never said I was a good guy in the first place. We still need blood to live – we usually could substitute it for animal blood or bagged blood but blood from a living human is different. It’s far superior in taste, satiety and nutrients if you will. So preying on human for blood was never really banned for us vampires but it has to be done responsibly. If accidents happen, we must also ensure that they are taken care of. Though it should be avoided because too many accidents would definitely reach the ears of the councils.”
“Hence why the head cheerleader, Jungwon and you,” he emphasized, “still lives. Though unfortunately Jungwon got picked up by another pure blood, that we didn't roamed around, as I left him unattended while he passed out. This might have been the same pure blood who had been stirring chaos around town too.”
“Then why is it that you keep coming back for me and not leave me alone like the cheerleader or Jungwon?” you asked boldly.
“Because you're so vexing,” he muttered back, deadpanned.
“Then you should’ve killed me the first time you had bitten onto me,” you shot back.
"You’re not wrong, that was indeed my biggest mistake".
Your blood definitely fitted his palate so well – something that was rare for someone so picky like him. But more than that, there was something about you that had completely dumbfounded him. He found that the more he drink your blood, the hungrier he became but instead of fully descending down the animalistic spiral as he usually would have, the more his consciousness re-emerged. This was the reason why he had always been able to stop himself from succumbing into a feeding frenzy with you. The hunger however would still be there, growing more entrenched by the second, burning him from within but the satiation of that apparently lied elsewhere: in your lips; in your skin; in your warmth – you.
Had he killed you in the first place, he could have saved himself all the troubles. He could have just ended it with fury and bitterness. But now he was in too deep.
“You had a couple of other chances too,” you continued prodding, “what’s stopping you?”
He sighed, swivelling your chair so you faced him, as he leaned down towards you, his hand on either side of you, “if something is delicious, it has to be savoured. That’s what I’m doing with you. It’s not often that someone comes along with blood that perfectly matches my picky palate.”
You scoffed, “then explain the kisses.”
“Well, the act of feeding is not really as innocent as the act of normal eating is it? Think about it,” he trailed his finger down your jawline, to your neck, “it’s my lips, on your neck. Then of course, there’s the proximity, the hands, the heat of our bodies – everything pretty much easily coalesce into lusts especially in the heat of delirium-“ his eyes begin to inadvertently flit from your eyes to your lips, the flicker of desire apparent.
Sure, he wasn’t lying but Sunghoon was no hormonal teenager who could easily be lulled with such desires and he knew it well. It takes a lot to incite something like that in him. But you don’t have to know that, he thought to himself.
You smacked his hand away. You didn’t expect him to say something sweet and mushy obviously but you would be lying if his words doesn’t sear. All the better, you tell yourself, reassuring that this way, you can stop feeling guilty or thankful to him beyond what is necessary. That you can just dampen any glimmer of thought that Sunghoon is different than what he present to be. “The deal was to offer my blood not to be your slvt,” you rolled your eyes as you swivelled your chair back towards the table, picking up the cutleries, "If I finish these, you’ll send me home immediately?”
He nodded, chin resting on his palm with his elbows propped against the table as he watched you, his lips curving unknowingly in such a gentle way as he watched you savour the food, your brows all knitted-up, your head nodding in satisfaction, “I take it that you like my cooking?”
“Only because I’m starving,” you grumbled, surprised at how hungry you actually were, finishing your meal faster than you usually would. You pushed the empty plates, staring back at him, “I’m full. Give me the clothes you promised me and send me home now.”
“Of course,” he gestured, fishing out his phone. Suddenly, an older man in dark suit and slicked-back hair entered the kitchen, carrying paper bags from luxurious brands. “They’re all yours, change into whichever you like. You can find me in the living room once you’re done.”
“These-“ you panicked, looking at the tags, each having more digits than you could ever afford, “I can’t accept all of them – they cost a fortune!”
“they cost nothing to me,” he shrugged, “treat it as a gift or something. You had, after all been, rather satisfactory.”
You scoffed, his choice of words always so offensive and searing. Begrudgingly you trudged up to the washroom, changing into the plainest one you could find out of the bunch – a simple ivory ruffle satin blouse from Hermes. You re-emerged from the washroom, dumping the bags in front of him, “I don’t want any of it. And this-“ you gestured to the blouse you were wearing, “I’ll repay you.”
“You’re always so stubborn, it’s just a token of appreciation,” he shrugged, rising up, guiding you through a series of corridors towards the main entrance.
“What we had was a deal,” you emphasized, “there is no need for any sort of appreciation there. It’s purely transactional.”
“You’re always so cold,” he muttered, opening the door of his G-Wagon for you, “and I’m insufferable – we’re perfect for each other.”
You glared at him as you entered his car, grabbing onto the door to close it before he could even close it for you.
If it was up to him, he wouldn't send you home at all. He would just continue to spin the web around you, keep you close with him, lock you inside with him. But he knew not to push buttons too far. He had plenty of time.
He had forever.
— ix.
Days turned to weeks then turned to months, and true to his words, Sunghoon really never let your deal nor you go. Being the insufferable prick he is however, he took to snatching you away out of the blue while you were in the campus corridors, into an empty class room, empty closet, empty toilet, dark and desolated library corners , you name it, just to feed on you in the most thrilling way.
“Blood tends to taste better when hearts race. How else can I do that than to take you by surprise?” he grinned slyly as he pushed you against the wall, completely unbothered that someone could have always walked in on you both. With eyes that had rapidly lightened to golden and canines erupting into full fangs, his hands would always be so swift and adept, already unbuttoning your top buttons or sometimes, tugging your shirt down your shoulders impatiently while the other hand seized your head like talons – as if he hadn’t already pinned you up against a surface with his massive frame.
While the prickle of pain that followed no longer made you jump nor flinch, you could never get used to the act of him sucking your blood through your neck. With fear and dread now subsiding, the intimacy of the act, like he had said before, was now too discernible to ignore: his soft lips on your neck, the way his hands and fingers roamed and gripped you, the way his head bob against the crook of your neck, the way his body was pressed up against you, and of course, the gaze as he pulled away – a gaze with smouldering intensity which never failed to make your heart race. It’s just transactional, you would tell yourself, you’re nothing but a bloodbag y/n, you reassured yourself.
Except you didn’t know how much longer you could tell yourself that especially after you bumped into Heeseung one day in one of the empty corridors. His eyes trained on the fresh puncture wounds on your neck, “I hope he’s not overdoing it.”
Your hand immediately flew to your neck, covering it – as if it was some sort of a hickey to be shameful about. You gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement before brushing past him though he grabbed your wrist mid-way with a grip that felt like iron – a stark contrast with the gentle and amiable image he was well-known for. But then again, you reminded yourself, he’s a vampire just like Sunghoon – it might all just be a façade.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he reassured, letting your hand go, “I just need a quick word.”
“Then be quick,” you relented, folding your arms defensively, maintaining a certain distance.
“I don’t how far you have gone with Sunghoon but let me tell you, you guys may be perfect for each other in a complementary way but,” he hesitated, “it could also coalesce perfectly into toxicity.”
"You've got it all wrong," you corrected, "we haven’t 'gone' anywhere. And we won’t. There is no way I would develop feelings for him and there is no way he would develop feelings for me when he could have anyone with the snap of a finger. Whatever we have, it’s completely transactional. So don’t worry about it.”
“It's you who I am worried for,” he sighed, eyes softening in such a way that conveyed genuine worry, “I can assure you that the fact that you went this far with him – breaking almost every guard he has and bending him in ways he had never allowed, meant something. I can’t speak for him but I’ve known him for decades to know a breach when there is one."
“That being said, obsession driven by attraction can be just as dangerous as contempt,” he continued as he fished out a crystal vial which was filled with dark red liquid, “it doesn’t matter if you like him back or not – if he wants you, he’ll make sure he’ll own you and the moment he feels like he’s losing you, his claws will just tighten.”
Suddenly he offered the vial towards you, “here's a chance for you to cut yourself from him.”
You eyed it suspiciously, "Is it poison? Are you asking me to poison him?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s kind of like a tranquiliser for us,” he beckoned you to take it, “it’s time for us to move away but he had been adamant in sticking around. I can’t let that happen but at the same time he’s too strong and too stubborn to listen,” he sighed, “so if you feel that there is any truth in what I have said, feed him this – however you see fit. It’s potent so just a drop is enough to incapacitate him momentarily. I’ll know when it works so I’ll quickly go to you when that happens and take him away."
You reluctantly took it from his hand, “and if I don’t?"
“Then I can’t save you anymore,” he mustered a weak smile.
"Why would you help me? He's your friend," you questioned.
"Exactly because he's my friend," he muttered despondently, "you both are poison to one another. Ive been through such tragedy once, I'm not letting him go through it."
You remembered tossing and turning that very night as Heeseung’s words replay in your mind incessantly like a broken record. Even when you’ve chucked the vial in the deepest corner of your drawer, under a bunch of other stuffs, you still can’t help but think of it.
Eventually, you rose up from your bed, reluctantly opening the drawer where the vial had been hidden away. Hugging your knees close to your chest, you held the vial in your hand up against night light.
Back then, you would have killed for this chance to rid of him. Yet now that the chance is right in your hand, you find yourself hesitating, thinking of reasons why you shouldn't instead.
— x.
Eventually you’ve reached the end of your academic year – all your hard work, labouring in the library and burning the midnight oil, culminated in distinctions. Not even waiting until graduation, you soon fell into another set of routine, from part-timing; volunteering to job-searching – already eager to start the next part of your life. This in turn had also limited the amount of times you bump into Sunghoon which was ideal, you thought, though he had now taken to appearing at your balcony at odd hours once or twice a month.
Like a loan shark, he just never missed asking for his due.
“Why can’t you drop by during day time or something?” you grumbled lethargically as you opened your balcony door at 3AM, "suddenly sensitive to sunlight are you?"
“You’re busy in the daytime,” he said as a matter-of-factly, closing the door behind him as if it was already a routine, “unless you want me to crash your part-time or volunteering places-“
“Okay, okay, I get it. Funny how capable you are of being considerate,” you sighed, gesturing him over, “let’s get it done with, it’s late.”
You don’t know if the new night routine was skewing your perception or if Heeseung’s words had started to sow seeds in your mind unwittingly but it was becoming alarmingly apparent to you how with every bite, everything felt less transactional from Sunghoon’s side. From the gentler touches; the possessive grasps; and the gaze that lingered longer – conveying more than the usual hunger within. Tonight, too, it felt all the more apparent as you flinched, suddenly feeling his cold tongue slid over your puncture wounds, catching the blood that trailed down.
“I told you not to do that,” you protested, edging your face slightly away from him, meeting his eyes that stared back with such smouldering intensity that it was making your heart flip.
“What if I want to?” he asked, face completely impassive, but gaze darkening by the second. You swallowed thickly as you stared back into those eyes while leaning back slowly, as if trying to probe the depth of his mind and test if there was any grain of truth to Heeseung’s words. He followed suit, face charging slowly towards you, as if chasing yours – his hands never leaving your waists and his gaze locking with yours yours in a gaze that was so electrifying.
You could have recoiled, you could have jerked away, you could have turned, you could have pushed him – but almost as if drawn by the gravity that seemingly existed between you and him, you just backed away slowly, eyes locked with his. You feel his hips pressing onto you as your back hit the countertop, giving you no more chance to back away. Face now only inches away from you with gaze that was so electric with desires, you can feel his breath hot against your lips and his body warm against yours – the warmth of which you didn’t expect from him, given how he was usually cold to the touch.
Again, you could have turned away. But you didn’t. Instead you let him draw nearer, his lips now ghosting over yours, his hand tracing the curvature of your spine, fingers folding protectively as it slid over the side of your ribs – the air crackling with electricity, with tension that is so palpable, it could have cut. If it was just primal desires on his side, he should have no problem breaking the tension by forcing a kiss on you – something he had done before. If it was just complete vehemence on your side, you should have shoved him away – something you had always done before too. But instead, you two just let yourselves bask in the moment of utter hesitance – just one move away from breaking the tension that warped the air and letting it all crumble.
His eyes flitted from your eyes to your lips, prompting you to do the same – the gaze from both of which was just oozing in repressed desires and bottled emotions. As if mirroring the restraint that was hanging by the last thread, his fingers had begun to dug painfully into your ribs and you had begun to tightly clench a fistful of his shirt.
You could see it then, in the depths of his searing gaze, that the flicker of desire, was catching flames. “No—” you weakly mustered, turning away just a fraction of seconds after he leaned in, evading the capture of his lips. You feel his breathing hot and laboured against your jaw, where he stayed rooted instead. You squeezed your eyes shut, disappointed at yourself for almost succumbing, "leave," was all you could managed as you pushed him weakly.
Perplexingly, and rather fortunately, he complied, weakly prying himself away from you though in such an agonisingly slow pace. “—now,” you insisted, daring to look back into his eyes – which was surprisingly gentle and pensive this time. You knew then, he was cracking.
You brushed past him, leaving your room, feeling nauseated as you wondered, if you had cracked too?
By the time you returned to your room, it was already empty though the tension from before still hung in the air, proceeding to haunt you for the remainder of the night over why and what could have been.
— xi.
Perhaps he had gotten bored of you. Perhaps the realisation that something was budding beyond normalcy was hitting his pride badly that he needed to step back. Perhaps, he had really moved abroad with Heeseung like what Heeseung had planned. Whatever it was, you hadn’t seen him since that evening – something you were of course, grateful for.
Sometimes, you feel his presence in the crowd and in the shadows as you go about your way, volunteering, working part-time, interviewing and so on – but he was never there. Just your imagination and skewed intuition. Tonight too as you attended the graduation after-party, you thought you saw his face in the midst of the crowd; his presence in the shadows; and his voice amidst the cacophony of noise. But again, you were wrong and you chalked it all up to exhaustion.
Eventually you slip away to the balcony, trying to find a momentary respite as your head had begun to splinter from all the socializing.
“Want me to take you away?”
You jumped, your train of thoughts came crashing.
Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself as you exhaled sharply, startled, at the sight of Sunghoon leaning against the door frame.
“You look bored,” he continued, letting himself in and closing the door behind him to shield you two away from any prying eyes, “of course you are, you hate crowds and you hate celebration”.
“You missed graduation,” was all you could muster.
“We’ve graduated countless of times so it means nothing to us,” he shrugged.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because you’re here,” he replied very quickly with no taunting smirk, unlike usual.
You sighed as you leaned back against the bannister, turning your head sideway and baring your neck, “don’t take too much, we’re in public.”
He scoffed, “that’s touching and all but I’m not a monster. You’re not just a bloodbag to me.”
You abruptly turned your head towards him, brows furrowed, "but I’m just supposed to be a blood bag to you.”
“that’s not for you to dictate.”
Suddenly, you heard a piercing scream from inside. You rushed towards the door, seeing the crowd clamouring over Nicholas who had been carried on a stretcher. Nicholas was the guy you had gotten close with over the past few weeks since you two had started interning together. You immediately rushed towards the door, about to re-enter the hall when Sunghoon stopped you, his grip over your wrist felt almost like iron, "he’s not dead yet. Just fainted.”
You looked at him in horror, “what do you mea- did you do this?”
“You probably didn’t realise it but he had underlying intentions towards you,” he muttered flatly, his grip unrelenting, “he spiked your drink.”
“He- what?” you stopped protesting, reminded of the way both Sunoo and even Ni-Ki had warned you against him, though you didn’t pay too much attention to it since he had always been so nice with you, “but that doesn’t- that doesn’t mean you have to take it in your hands and incapacitate him.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t drink a lot. I just exert certain pressure on his hand and neck to make him pass out. After hurling a bunch of threats to him, that is.”
"You really need to be careful with who you interact with," he cautioned, "human are very easy. They catch feelings very easily."
It suddenly dawned on you horrifyingly that perhaps your intuition had been right. That it had always been him, in the crowd and in the shadows, always closely following and watching. Heeseung’s words begin to flood your mind.
"Obsession driven by attraction is just as dangerous as contempt". "It doesn’t matter if you like him back or not – if he wants you, he’ll make sure he’ll own you and the moment he feels like he’s losing you, his claws will just tighten".
"Euijoo, from my part-time job-" you asked, voice shaky as you were reminded of how he had suddenly submitted his resignation letter without bidding you goodbye just a day after he confessed to you, "was that your doing too?"
"You've always hated receiving confessions and the guilt in your face throughout the whole night was pretty telling of it," he quipped, "I was just doing you a favour no? I didn't bite him though. Just told him off and offer him money. You can still find him in the bookstore near the mall, alive and annoyingly cheery as usual."
You looked at him, completely aghast. Realizing the truth a tad bit too late. Of how you are completely entrapped within his claws with other people being wrought in it as well.
He scoffed, looking hurt, “Why are you staring at me like that? I was only looking out for you – in both instances,” he tugged onto your arm, pulling you into an embrace that gradually tightened in a way snake constricts its prey, "can’t you see? the length I go for you.”
You wanted to push him off but almost like a muscle memory, it gave up after a few attempts, unwittingly melting into his embrace in defeat as the guilt filled you and the dread hounded you.
“Let’s head home,” he murmured softly into your hair.
Obviously you wanted nothing to do with him anymore tonight but you knew him – you knew that look in his eyes, you knew that grip around your hand, so you just obliged, excusing yourself to the restroom for a bit to collect yourself. He nodded, giving you a brief smile, “don’t run away okay?”
It was such a harmless sentence delivered in the gentlest way and yet, you could feel the way it’s laced almost like a threat.
The ride back home was mostly silent, your mind racing with a billion thoughts. He walked you up to your door silently. As you turned your doorknob, you muttered, “I’m moving in a few days.”
“I heard,” he replied almost instantaneously, “you landed a job at one of the big-3 right?”
You turned around, mustering the courage, “what would happen to our deal?”
“What about it? I’ve secured the unit next to yours,” he replied so nonchalantly, “it would be as if nothing had changed.”
“you what? But how–" Your brows knit in dismay. Only Sunoo knew about you getting the job and moving so for Sunghoon to have not just known the news but have also secured the unit next to yours was filling you with so much terror.
“You know me, what I want, I get.”
Heeseung's words rang in your mind deafeningly again.
He furrowed his brows, “what? You didn’t expect the deal to just end like that did you?” He scoffed, taking steps towards you, his footsteps echoed ominously in the hallway, “it won’t. I won’t let it.”
“Sunghoon, back off-“ you warned as you backed away into your home, swiftly about to close the door on him but he was faster as he wedged his shoe in between, pushing the door open, letting himself in, "you won't ever escape me y/n, I own you – that permanent mark on your neck should serve as a constant reminder for you."
Sunghoon didn't know why he was all riled up – perhaps it's the look of terror in your eyes. After all he had done for you, all the patience and considerations he had also imparted to you – what he got back was instead a look of fear. And he thought you guys were making good progress over the past few months, despite some hiccups now and then.
“Sunghoon, I am not yours and I will never be so you have no righ-“
He tugged your hand, slamming you against the door, not letting you finish your sentence at all. You shuddered as you looked up into his eyes – the steeliness of which you hadn't seen in a while that you forgot just how intimidating and paralyzing it was.
“you said it yourself, it’s all primal desires," you protested, writhing under his grasps.
“Haven’t I shown you enough? Displayed enough patience, enough consideration and enough restraint? Are those not enough as indication?” he asked, the disappointment so evident in the strain of his voice and weight of his stare.
“It’s all just obsession, you’re mistaking it,” you argued.
He scoffed, his eyes suddenly golden, his hand cradling the back of your head, “why don’t we see who’s mistaking what?”
You wedged a hand, palming him by the chest, “Sunghoon-“ your eyes were almost pleading but he was already seeing red – blinded by obsession, clouded by anger – as he crushed your body against his, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue soon pried your lips apart, deepening his kiss so desperately and hungrily, in a way that you could feel all the emotions he had bottled and repressed for you – from the anger, the bitterness, the yearning and the longing. You tried to shove him away, knowing very well you were of no match against him – not when he was completely overtaken by his his desires and impulses.
Suddenly he pulled away, his eyes staring back at you in alarm. By the time he realized something was wrong, it was far too late, as he teetered backwards unwittingly, knocking vases and books over, before he collapsed to the floor, breathing becoming more laborued. His face soon contorted in to a mixture of fury and hurt as he stared back at you, “you-“
Your legs buckled under you as you stared weakly at him, your eyes somehow misty as you watched him struggle. When you used the washroom earlier, you had mixed the red liquid from the vial that Heeseung had given you, with your lipstick – remembering how he said it won’t have an effect on human and that that it was so potent on vampires that even a drop would've sufficed. You then proceeded to apply it on your lips, your gut feelings telling you that you might need it tonight. As your gut feelings had told you, you indeed needed it.
A dark figure suddenly materialised behind Sunghoon – it was Heeseung, looking forlornly at the way Sunghoon was all hunched up over the floor, coughing, feeling his strength dissipating by the second despite his efforts. He glowered with every muscle he had left in his face, at Heeseung who was holding him by his arm, then to you. Locked to your eyes, his gaze hardened, almost that with utter fury though his misty eyes conveyed otherwise. Heeseung gave you a brief appreciative nod, before he wrapped his cloak over Sunghoon, both vanishing into thin air within split seconds after.
You should be elated that the bane of your existence was now gone, probably for eternity, but a tear soon rolled down your cheeks. Though you couldn’t tell, nor do you want to, if it was simply out of guilt, sadness or regret.
A/N: Hello everyone! If you've reached here then thank you so much for presevering through this massive chapter (and I -oop 💀) I hope it has been an interesting ride and thank you for sticking by and showing so much interest for this series. This particular chapter went through massive overhaul multiple times lol but thank goodness Dark Blood came in just in time to give me a new burst of energy and motivation wheee If you saw my previous post and had been waiting for it, I apologise for the delay huhuu I got stuck in some parts 💀 Ps. If you enjoy this, shower it with some love by leaving me some comments on it hehe I dont bite 🙆🏻♀️
Taglist: @axartia | @my5colours | @elinushka-ka | @nowjillsandwich | @leaderwon | @moniqueovermoney | @ashrocker123 | @soonyoungblr | @hydroyaksha | @ikayyyyyy | @asyleums | ((I hope I haven't missed out anyone huhuu :( ))
#enhypen vampire#enhypen imagines#enhypenwriters#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon imagines#park sunghoon#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon vampire#kpop imagines#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen sunghoon scenarios#kpop scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen vampire au
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"Apologies AU" Summary Part 1
-
Long, long ago, Earth experienced a radical climate shift that meant within as little as two generations, the planet would no longer be habitable for humans. A desperate humanity sought a new home for themselves and their progeny, eventually discovering the perfect place to start over, a planet they dubbed "The New World."
The New World was to be more than humanity's second chance at life. It would be an ideal society: all of humankind's greatness and triumph built side by side with nature, so the problems of the old world would not follow. Humanity began migrating in waves, the most privileged and wealthy and their loyalists first, of course.
Eventually, everyone would get a new lease on life.
Yes... surely...
One day, upon this fresh new world an alien life form crashed. Mysterious. Powerful. Dangerous. Also weak. Too weak to evade capture. And soon...life began to change. The people of The New World slowly turned their eyes away from those they'd left behind in their ugly past, their gaze fixed on a dream-like future. Advancement. Progress. Technology akin-to-magic. A galaxy of possibilities.
It could be theirs. It would be theirs. At any cost. Those in power would make sure of it.
Animal experiments... Human experiments...
Among these experiments was a woman with a voice so beautiful hearing her was to feel like your greatest Dream had come true... She would fall in love with a man with a Heart so great he left his home to try and return this troubled species to the right path...
...From their union, two children would be born.
The eldest, a boy, bore great Darkness within him. The abstract nature of his gifts proved of small interest to Lab Discovera at first, and he was tentatively returned to the care of his parents.
The second, a little girl, was a powerful vessel for Soul matter. The ability to create life, not just manipulate it. To bring something into being from nothing.
She, they wanted desperately! For they did not see a child or even a living creature, but a tool from which they could wrest their desired future of absolute control. The wielders of Dream and Heart would not hear of sacrificing their progeny for these twisted goals!
Considered fugitives from The New World for fleeing with precious "experimental equipment" they hid themselves the only place they thought safe: Old Earth, now little more than a dumping ground for exiles and failed or "disappointing" experiments, often sent down as trinkets to pacify the urban warlords who ruled over the depressed, powerless survivors of this slowly collapsing society.
The family of four lived as best as they could in the increasingly cold and harsh modern wasteland, seen as traitors to their neighbors for having worked closely with Old Earth's privileged oppressors. The children were able to avoid capture, at least.
But their parents would not live to see them grow up...
--
It is the beginning of summer, the only time of the year on "Shiver Star" where it is warm enough to be outdoors for most of the day. The planet awakens from another three season long hibernation...
Adeleine and Noir Fontaine are orphaned siblings, two young kids in their early and mid-teens just trying to survive amongst a tired and deeply bitter populace who knows that they, for one reason or another, are the ones humanity has chosen to die while the rest migrated to the bounteous and rich future of The New World.
Only Noir is old enough and wise enough to fully grasp that no matter how hard they pretend otherwise, there's no long-term survival for the two of them. And god knows, the day-to-day is hard enough.
Still, the two make it work. They thrive, even, due to Noir's endless tenacity and strong desire to save his little sister from the crushing despair he feels, even if he can save her no other way.
With society opening up again, the two quickly find themselves reunited with their childhood friend of several years. It is a happy reunion for Adeleine and an awkward one for Noir. Though even he can't help but admit, having Raquelle around makes the weight on his shoulders feel a little more bearable. Even if the slightly older girl's good-natured teasing flusters him in a complex way...
Still, they could have gone on like this together for many years, the three of them. Until the snow forgot how to melt and all life fell into a gentle sleep, buried under the white drifts. They could have.
...They could have but...
One fateful day, Adeleine's art supplies, her only personal treasure, are ruined beyond repair by people who did not care for their warm-hearted escapism. Alone, Noir follows a secret hunch and sneaks into the Museum of New World Technology, a wrecked and abandoned building formerly used to host hundreds of the broken and often dangerous tchotchkes left behind by the New World.
He finds just what he was looking for amongst the looted remains of this experimental display of new world glitz – the perfect gift for his sister. A "magical" paintbrush that ensures she will always have the tools to do what she loves. Adeleine now finds herself slowly able to bring her yet unrefined art to a fantastical new level!
While they start out as little more than animated sketches, she will in time learn to tap into powers deep within herself, powers as natural to her as breathing, to bring real items, even food, into being.
Noir finds a gift for himself as well. A sword with a strange dark aura. It speaks to him. To his soul. Anxiety. Dread. Anger. Negative emotions that Noir had been able to push aside for most of his troubled life with seemingly endless patience and resilience.
It tempts him: a weapon that does not require strength nor training to use, and effortlessly concealable as something no more noticeable than a chain necklace he can hide beneath the scarf he always has on him. Before he knows what he is doing, he has donned it.
Their summer takes a dramatic turn for the better. Long days of magic-fueled safety and silliness sponsored by "dream-like" technology. Adeleine continues to hone her skills. Noir trains with his gift as well and the inexplicable powers it grants him. He plays with being a hero, disappearing night after night to hunt "monsters."
...But this isn't a story about a hero...
Noir is disappearing more and more lately. He's tense. Frightened of something lurking just over his shoulder. He never takes his scarf off now, and he's begun to wear gloves over his hands, even inside.
One day, he reports to Adeleine that he and Raquelle had a bad fight; that she said she never wants to see him again. Adeleine, seeing the changes in her brother as a sign Noir's been deeply hurt by this experience, loyally sides with him and gives up her oldest friendship...
And so, things go back to normal for the two Adeleine...
What she cannot see is that Noir's hands and neck have begun to turn dark and withered; it is almost as if something other than blood is starting to run through his veins. Underneath his scarf, the chain necklace that gave him control over the dark sword has transformed into a collar he can neither remove nor destroy. His attempts to do so cause the sword under "his" control to attack him, violently.
Frightened, he manages to contact an exiled New World scientist, a man with a shattered mind who informs Noir of the horrible secret behind The New World's precious "miracle." That their wondrous advancements all stemmed from the extensive torture of an alien life form, a powerful psychic who even now, a planet away, is able to toy with the fates of those who gorged themselves on Forgo's pain.
Worse than the knowledge of what this information might mean for him is the realization that he has cursed his little sister to the same terrible end as he. Noir runs to her, frantic! Perhaps it is not too late! There may still be time to take it back!
Please!! Not Adeleine too...!!
And yet...
...She is fine! To his great relief! Adeleine shows no signs of the frightening, irreversible transformation he is seemingly undergoing!
Indeed, she hasn't changed one bit since her gift...
Time passes for the siblings. Slowly and quickly. Noir becomes desperate to continue to conceal and somehow free himself of his "gift." For if he were to die now, what would happen to his sister? She has no one left. But her joy at her growing abilities only makes his guilt worse. And negativity speeds along the change...
Realizing at long last that the fragile life he wishes he could return to is now forever out of reach, that he was the one who destroyed it, and that the monstrous transformation he is going through can only end in harming Adeleine as well, Noir makes a decision...
There is no escape for him. But Adeleine will be free.
At any cost.
Noir touches his sleeping sister's cheek with a hand she would recoil from if she knew what her "hero" has done and disappears into the night one last time...
Days later, Noir and Adeleine arrive at the spaceport. He has come along to bid her goodbye. He tells her not to worry. That he will follow once his paperwork is all sorted out. Unable to fully disguise his intentions, he smiles with tears in his eyes and begs her to be happy.
Happy enough...for the both of them...
Only he knows this is the last time they will meet in this form.
After she departs, Noir walks out into the snow, alone. The distant eye that had been closely watching the child born to Darkness from afar for years, that had begun to lurk inside him since he took the Dark Matter Blade, that sunk its claws into its prey for good the moment his unstoppable resilience finally slipped and he allowed himself, in his fear, to murder his best friend and consign her soul - along with the others he killed - to be enslaved to the darkness too, bursts forth, consuming his physical body.
His last thoughts are not for his own fate. He knows what he deserves.
No. They are for she whom he always thought of first. To the one he had given up everything for and knew, deep inside, he would give up his life for as well, the moment she gave him that scarf...
-
"Was I a good brother... Adeleine...?"
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[Apologies AU Masterpost] [Noir's Field Trip Masterpost]
#Apologies AU#Noir Fontaine#Noir's Field Trip#Don't want to read a comic + dozens of scattered asks...#...but DO want to read a long text summary?!#Then this post is for you!!#Kirby OC Tournament#Adeleine#Raquelle (Dark Rimura)#There’s a bunch of mentions of comics + stories I hadn’t gotten around to drawing/writing here too#FWIW on Noir's 'monster' hunting - he DID fight actual ‘monsters’ (dangerous New World invasive species) at first!#But his backstory (which I'll get to) kinda means he was always going to move to humans…..#Anyway poll is over + Noir Nation fought hard!! I didn’t think he would do as well as he did tbh#I’ve never been prouder of coming in 3rd! (And I mean that genuinely!) That said…rather than focus on the loser’s bracket…#…I’m going to try and power through to the proper end of his story now (give or take some necessary mental breaks)#Though if someone wants to ask him what's the story behind that scarf anyway (wink wink) that would help ^^#I should try to work the DL3 comics in too as they’re somewhat necessary as well (even though they’re tragic af…)
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No. 1 - Lufthansa
We begin with a large fish even by the standards of the large pond in which we operate. A very intentionally chosen large fish. Deutsche Lufthansa is Germany’s flag carrier and the second largest carrier in all of Europe by passenger volume. In 2018, they unveiled a new standard livery for their fleet of airplanes, and it...well. It’s this.
Even the presentation - good lord, is this an auto show?
My feelings on Lufthansa’s 2018 livery are visceral. There’s no mental evaluation required, no taking it in, thinking about the choices made - I look at the modern Lufthansa livery and immediately, profoundly know that I hate it. And that’s not just because of the specific choices made - which are bad - but because of the space they occupy amidst a creatively barren wasteland within livery design. This is going to be a very long post, which isn’t standard for this blog, but my goal for an introduction is to break down exactly the sort of design that made me feel the need to start doing this to begin with.
But in reality that’s only the beginning. Yes, Lufthansa’s livery is specifically disappointing, but it is so much more than that. It is the purest distillation of the greatest challenge aviation faces today, far weightier than scheduling issues, outdated IT, and runway incursions. It is not the worst example of it, not in the slightest, but it is a large airline which has a very textbook presentation of symptoms and thus feels like a great example to describe exactly what I hate about this sort of design. Let me explain.
Essentially, airlines have found a formula. It goes as such:
Almost entirely white body. (There is a name for this trend: Eurowhite.) In some cases, there may be a colour on the underside, generally either a light grey or whichever secondary shade the airline has committed to. In the case of this Lufthansa livery, it is just white.
Aside from the white body there will be either a single colour (generally some dark blue, or less often some sort of red) or a few colours, usually but not exclusively on flag carriers to match their national branding. (The proliferation of red, white, and blue flags out there means that a disproportionate number of airline liveries are these colours.) Unless it is literally just a white plane meant to be as generic as possible for short turn-overs when leasing, it will at least attempt to have some sort of design, but it will be minimal, and:
All of the detail will be on the tail. There may be coloured winglets or engine nacelles, but other than that it is only at the rear of the plane that you begin to see any interest. Usually this is just a logo, though it may be an abstract design which looks like a default tumblr header. It will often only be on the tail, with nothing at all on the body proper.
The name of the airline written in a sans-serif typeface which is set as default on at least one word processor. Rarely will anything creative be done with this. It will (usually, except in egregious cases) match the impotent attempt at graphic design which has been confined to the empennage and it will have all the charm of a large retail chain’s flyer describing the benefits you’ll definitely totally get if you work for them - sickeningly corporate. Low-cost airlines may slightly vary the theme by putting their website onto the livery, either towards the back or just instead of the airline’s name. The brave will also write it on the ventral fairing, but most don’t even bother with that simple act. Some airlines have their name written in the language spoken in the country they’re based in, usually beside the English text, but most are only in English despite operating in countries where this is not the most widely spoken language.
Not every livery which has these features is badly designed, as seemingly small changes can make all the difference. There is the occasional livery that fits most, if not all of these features that has some clever tweaks or design choices which makes me actually think it’s fine, acceptable, maybe even decent. (I have taken the initiative of making sure a few of these are among my early posts, just to demonstrate that it can be done). And some airlines depart from this entirely and come up with something even more hideous. Yet I somehow find myself respecting even these more than I do Lufthansa.
The Corporate Standard Livery Design (Lufthansesque design, if you will) is - and I do not think I am being dramatic at all here - an epidemic. Taxiing through most airports, you sometimes have to actually try to tell the planes parked around you apart in the sea of red, blue, and mostly white. And I spend a lot of time looking at planes.
These liveries do not only fail to inspire me. They instill in me a profound disgust. They are not trying to be good. They are trying to be what I described earlier - decent, not worth complaining about, because that’s cheaper and easier than designing something good. Graphic design is not anyone’s passion here. They’re just trying to toe the line. They’re so poisoned by the modern minimalist-design brain virus that they don’t realise that to be acceptable a livery this simple needs to do something interesting. There must be a creative decision made somewhere, a compelling feature, or you may as well be flying an MLA-formatted plane. In their striving for adequacy they become not just ambient, but lukewarm. They are a bottle of water which has sat in the sun for so long that when you drink it, even though you’re overheating and parched, it feels only negligibly better than the air you’ve been breathing in.
To be fair, I do not only hate the Lufthansa paintjob because it exemplifies whatever-ness. Even in an industry saturated with gross in-flight nothingburgers served with some stale biscuits and a paper cup of Lipton tea, Lufthansa manages to offend in specific and unique ways.
Throughout its long history Lufthansa has had a handful of different liveries, but from 2018 onwards this has been the situation. They’ve never been brilliant, but it’s only gotten worse over time. I normally would commit to a separate post for historical liveries, but in a move that I don’t foresee becoming particularly common I’d like to talk about the history and evolution of Lufthansa’s liveries from the golden age to now - the fall, if you will.
(image: lufthansa bildarchiv)
Their early liveries were already pretty much plain white or metal, but they still had a few features that made them seem a bit less like photocopy paper which was meant to be printed plain blue but only got through a tenth of the sheet before ink ran out. To begin with, they used a lighter blue and combined it with a vivid yellow to add some actual visual interest. The layering of the yellow over the blue where it curves around and below the nose and on the ends of the tailplane actually draws the eye. The font choice is nice and legible, spaced apart in the center of the fuselage. I imagine it was easy to read even from far away. (Shame it’s a bit blocked by the wings from some angles, though.)
(image: lufthansa bildarchiv)
This early 707 design keeps the cheatlines extending past the nose but makes them sharper than the ones on the Connie to match the sleek profile of the jet. Back when this plane was painted adding white to your plane was a choice rather than the thing everybody was doing, which allows me to respect it for the choice it was instead of considering it the factory default. The bottom half, denoted by the cheatline, is left unpainted, which only adds to the sleekness of the overall profile, and the text is clear and plain but still aesthetically pleasing. The 707 is by modern standards pretty antique-looking; you can take one look at one and tell it isn’t particularly streamlined. This paint scheme, though, makes the plane look sharp and aerodynamic, despite not being revolutionary. I would go so far as to say I like this particular livery. This is, unfortunately, as good as it gets.
Oh. Oh no...
Let’s assess the damage here. The cheatlines now simply meet at the front without wrapping down to the belly of the plane and the nose is a simple black tip. I like it when airlines paint their planes’ radomes, and I wouldn’t mind it here if not for what it was replacing. The font has been replaced with a generic sans serif font which is closely spaced and put up into a corner, like the name on a homework assignment - it’s not really part of the total package, just there for administrative purposes. Most upsetting to me is the tail. While I wouldn’t say I love the little section on the old plane, it at least felt like it belonged there, creating a second blue-and-yellow layer above the white. Its placement on the fin above where it begins to taper gives the plane a bit of an aerodynamic feel. It’s certainly not changing the world, but it feels at home in the livery.
The new fin is a sharp downgrade. With nothing to mark the transition the fin abruptly goes from the white of the upper fuselage to a shiny blue which contains an enclave of the only yellow to be found on the entire aircraft. This makes the yellow stand out, as it has nothing to tie it in with the rest of the plane, and the fin itself feels almost like it’s been Frankensteined onto the fuselage from a different plane by a different airline. There’s nothing to mediate the transition from a block of white to a block of blue, like how the cheatline separates white and grey. It just is blue now, stop asking questions. This also means that the only part of the plane that the eye is really drawn to is...the tiny portion of the whole that is the fin, which may as well be floating detached in midair.
This is foreboding. Knowing what I know now, it feels like looking back at when a romantic partner began to act strange years later, after the divorce, as you walk by the house he bought with his mistress.
(image: g najberg)
The most recent, and only, time I flew on Lufthansa was in 2014 and was aboard one of their 747-400s. (Actually, if you’d still like to fly on a passenger 747, Lufthansa is basically your only option.) At the time, they looked like this. This is...just sad. They got rid of the cheatlines, because that’s trendy now, and they painted the whole plane white and made an attempt at lip service to the old metal lower half by painting just a bit of the plane grey, like if a human stepped into a puddle of paint that only covered the very sole of their foot. And I’m being generous by showing a 747, a plane which inherently makes any livery look less boring by being interestingly shaped itself, instead of the classic slightly pointy single-decker tube. Not to mention the double-decker design makes the text vertically centered instead of the default Lufthansa look of awkwardly shoved nearly all the way up the fuselage.
In defense of the modern livery, it’s possible to argue it’s an improvement on this. Honestly, looking at them next to each other, it’s difficult to pick out which one I find less defensible.
But then you see D-AIDV, an A321 painted in a heritage livery, and you feel the immediate, visceral “no!!! no go back!!!” as you remember that this is a false dichotomy and we could have something so much better if they weren’t peer-pressured into generic modern design.
And for what? For this?
(image: hvdfonts)
For the third time, I remind you of what we have been reduced to. We have achieved a state of reductio ad absurdum where this barely qualifies as a design. This plane is more or less a white blot. You can put as many insets as you want and it is still a white blot.
I am relatively sure that the font used is literally Helvetica. EDIT: I have been informed that it is not, in fact, Helvetica, but a custom typeface that happens to look almost exactly like Helvetica. This is, in my own opinion, worse! They did apparently use Helvetica in the past, though. Here is a very detailed description of the design process of the font, which manages to contain a grand total of zero ideas.
I would hate this on its own already, but it’s also so closely spaced and located so far up that it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. In my own experience as a dyslexic person, kerning is the single weightiest feature when it comes to if I can easily read something or not. While Helvetica, ugly though it may be, is generally considered a very legible font, any benefits from that are more than cancelled out by committing to making sure the entire name of the airline fits between the frontmost two doors with room to spare. It feels almost hostile.
Now, all given, I at least somewhat enjoy the shade of blue used for this livery, which is darker than the normal fare. I do miss the way the grey broke up the endless white space, though, and I mourn the yellow even more - in addition to being something to look at, losing it has also lost any visible reference to the flag of Germany, the country for which Lufthansa is the flag carrier. They don’t even have the black part of the German flag despite that being basically free. If they went for black instead of dark blue I would honestly respect this a hell of a lot more. One of the most recognizable flags in the world and instead your airline looks like a discount SAS.
Yeah, I said it. If we want to go even further with comparisons by including airlines that aren’t Lufthansa, this is basically the SAS livery. Except not, because the SAS livery does a lot that this doesn’t.
This is about Lufthansa, not SAS. I’ll look at SAS soon enough, because comparing their look to Lufthansa’s has made me appreciate it in a way I never used to. But I don’t think I need to elaborate too much for it to be clear why SAS’s livery works and Lufthansa’s doesn’t, despite the superficial similarities. SAS took their absolutely horrid previous livery and turned it into something which might not wow anyone but at least feels uniquely theirs, while Lufthansa had something which accomplished much the same and then diluted it into nothingness, Eurowhite writ large. Two washes and you’d wonder if your Lufthansa flight is actually a Smartlynx lease.
The way that the blue slices into the bottom of the fuselage and doesn’t fully cover the tailfin is...something? It’s a design element. It’s not nearly enough to save it, but it’s a design element. However, this presents another issue specific to Lufthansa’s paint job, best demonstrated with a specific plane:
(image: lufthansa)
Lufthansa is the world’s largest operator of the Airbus A340, a somewhat eccentric airplane which is perhaps best thought of as a four-engined A330. I love this airplane, and am delighted seeing it overhead on my walk home from work, because Lufthansa is kind enough to operate a daily service with it to my home airport, but that’s beside the point. The point is this: what I have pictured is specifically the A340-600, which is the world’s second longest in-service airliner. Yes, longer than the A380 and the 747-400, and, in fact, only shorter than the 747-800. With a plane this long, the Lufthansa livery creates an incredible look of rear-heaviness. This plane looks like it should uncontrollably pitch up until it’s perpendicular to the ground every time it takes off. Of course this effect is less pronounced on shorter aircraft, but it’s still there, and I dislike it.
You can barely even tell there’s paint at all on a much smaller plane! And the white bit on the front of the rudder which looks okay on a conventional empennage looks downright horrible when it’s only on the very tip of the t-tail’s forward point.
Oh, and when you take the windows out for a freighter conversion it gets even worse.
This is a generic-brand airplane. It genuinely reminds me of generic branding. There is a specific brand that has this exact appearance and I can’t remember what it is but it’s right there and I’m fairly sure I’ve seen it at CVS. I don’t think that’s what you want to go for when designing an airline livery, especially for an airline representing a country, but if Lufthansa wasn’t going for that they’ve failed.
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Overall, Lufthansa’s livery is superbly boring and not terribly well thought out. It’s not worth this absolute dissertation on its own, but I’ve singled it out to complain about general trends, and for that I probably owe it an apology. Said apology is predicated on the fact that it is still a very underwhelming and bad design which could have used a lot more thought. There are a million ways this could have been made decent, and none of them were implemented because that would have taken effort and time and creative vision. I think this post actually required more time and effort than Lufthansa put into designing their planes.
That said, Lufthansa gets a final grade of D. It’s...bad, it definitely is. There’s the vague flavour of the start of something, like the very distant smell from a barbecue happening three blocks away, but is that really even a redeeming factor?
No. The second-largest airline in Europe should be able to do better. If I have to stare at rows upon rows of their planes any time I’m at a German airport, they should have the decency to make them interesting to look at.
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We were doing some intake and assessments at work for the beginning English classes, and--as I already knew--many or most of the women reported that they had never been to school in their home country. 0 years of school. They don't read and write in their first language.
This is old news. But.
When people say "Knowledge Is Power," that's not just a slogan about a general, abstract kind of knowledge and power. It's not just about keeping informed of your rights, or developing an awareness of the history and context of a political situation.
Imagine the power of someone who can read and write to fill out an application for a job, over someone who can't. Someone who can read and write to register to vote--or can't. Someone who can--or can't--read a lease, or a note from their children's school, or a safety warning in a workplace, or a legal notice about custody of their children. Someone who can apply for and verify their own official ID, passport, visa, etc--or not.
And imagine the power of the people who get to decide what essential life needs require reading and writing, and in what language, and who gets access to that literacy.
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#Financial Accounting#Lead generation#Accounting Services USA#Database Generation#Lease Abstraction#Payroll Outsourcing.
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Significantly for a book that excavates a history that has been received with shock and scandal to many of its readers, one of the most powerful senses that Ebony and Ivy conveys is the banality of slavery to the university and the social worlds that it was so crucial in maintaining. Colleges extended the normalizing reach of slavery, acclimating (and placing on equal footing) those students who arrived with no first-hand experience of slavery with those students whose lives were directly enmeshed with it, holding slaves in their person or family. Colleges also reproduced slavery to the extent that they served as pivotal sites in the production, legitimation, and dissemination of dominant ideas for emerging generations of the colonial elite. Study thereby became a vehicle for the enshrinement of emerging knowledges in the form of time-honored wisdom. he book’s final three chapters detail the practical operations by which the university’s accumulation and formalization of racial knowledge took shape in “the rise of scientific racism” (190). Academic institutions became the site of the alchemical transformation of highly biased and interested observers of African and Indigenous populations into legitimate knowledge: “Atlantic colleges took these myriad pieces of social information and forged ‘truths’ about human difference”.
Ebony and Ivy, in order to capture its subject, has to defamiliarize its reader with what the nature of a university is. In the colonial Americas, Wilder writes, “colleges were imperial instruments akin to armories and forts, a part of the colonial garrison with the specific responsibilities to train ministers and missionaries, convert indigenous peoples and soften cultural resistance, and extend European rule over foreign nations”. The communities and public trusts colleges served were social formations avowedly in step with the domination of Native nations; they too were specific articulations of the “public” that saw to it that slavery and racial formation operate not only to the well-being of individual owners, but to their collective benefit. Wilder’s study of the university employs a strategy that reads the university as an institution in the making. Colonial-era land grants and leases for colleges enabled their officials “to tap into the wealth being generated in the unfree agricultural economies”. Higher education in this context functioned as a key technology not only of the elaboration and extension of colonial rule in the Americas, but moreover in the construction of intercolonial relations between different settler outposts in the continental Americas and the Caribbean, as well as between the northern and southern English colonies. Entire institutions in the colonial North came to flourish by recruiting students from the plantation-owning elite in the South and the West Indies.
The division of university labor that took shape between the functions of the production of education and the reproduction of the immediate institutional conditions that made education possible corresponded to differential degrees of access to and expulsion from the category of the human. Wilder gets at the problem that the university itself must be socially reproduced even as it is positioned as a key instrument of social reproduction for capital and the nation-state. In so doing, his work allows us to glimpse a version of the university freed from the methodological injunction to view the institution in terms of continuous enlightenment and knowledge production in an abstract or distanced way. he focus on slavery does more than simply scandalize the historicity of the institution. Rather, it opens onto the question of what study itself leaves unthought— what are the social organizations of work and stratifications of humanity necessary to make the work of study possible? Of the many lessons that Ebony and Ivy teaches, one in particular is worth stressing within [Critical University Studies] at present: that there is no history of the university that is not also a history of capital accumulation and capital expropriation. The vaunted university systems of the United States did not simply import their structural models from Oxford and the great German state universities. Their mode of sustaining themselves was derived from and inventive of practices and structures of violence and captivity indissociable from the fact of their genesis as slaveholding settler institutions. Education is not reducible to simple instruction. It is a context constituted as much by students and instructors as it is by those who cleared furnace ashes and emptied chamber pots, by those whose communities were removed for campuses to take root, and by those whose bodies were used as the raw materials for scientific experimentation and discursive elaboration alike.
— Abigail Boggs and Nick Mitchell, "Critical University Studies and the Crisis Consensus", Feminist Studies 44, no. 2., 2018.
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#fridayquotes #quotefortheday #AdamContos . . . “If you’re committed to it, you’ll find a way. If not, you’ll find an excuse.” – Adam Contos . . .
#Springbord#CommercialRealEstate#FASB#IASB#Lease#Abstraction#Administration#Management#CAM#Reconciliation#Audit#Property#Accounting#Services#Outsourcing
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VD81
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this is for the carmen lore lovers okay i always think "i should complain less both irl and online since its probably not good to be so negative all the time" but anger really does keep me alive etc but good god this mold shit is driving me insane like thank god i live with all my irl friends cause no way in hell would i invite someone over like "yeah ignore the mildew smell and dont look too closely at anything and dont touch the walls theyre permawet" its humiliating and it's so shameful just having to exist here and who knows where im gonna be living in a month im soooooo sick of this bouncing around where i live the last so many years -_-
like i havent really had a proper home it feels since 2018 like it's just "this is where im gonna be for maybe a year and its just where i keep some of my stuff and sleep at" like cant even put posters up cause theyll die. i have one big painting i made in our room to add some color but we gotta clean off the mold every so often but its abstract so at least it's hard to see and i really dont care about it enough if the paint gets worn away.
still waiting on the landlord to finally get back to us considering the repair guy (who she lives with but idk if theyre a couple but thats not my business im just a nosey nancy) and he was like shocked and mortified at the mold (he used to live here and hadnt seen mold this way) and okay it's a concrete house with stucco exterior but the fact that the middle most wall is wet he said something like uh thats kind of impossible to dry. any professional/ legal ppl weve talked to have said this is basically hazardous living and unsuitable conditions (even with the semi illegal mold agreement we were forced to sign that was snuck small into the lease, if anything its incriminating) and like now what? will we get relocated since this is house needs to get torn down (it has 85% humidify with is like 10% over legal livable limit) but if not then how long do we have to move? if its condemned then what man. we have a backup plan but it's a long as hell drive and far from everything so at least we dont gotta worry about nowhere to live so im trying to not stress too hard and just let da wind take me where it goes. so maybe we will soon live in a real house thats dry and i really cant beleive im back to where i was like 6 years ago of "i just need a bed to sleep in" i want to live a normal life where our cutting boards dont get moldy.
fuck all life.
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