Prompt: “What will we do with the dead bodies?” “The vultures will swoop in soon enough, it isn’t our concern anymore.”
Word Count: 1,083
Pronouns: Gender neutral; they/them/theirs
Tags: Vampire!Korean line
A delicate film of perspiration appeared on the upper lip of the old lady, as she struggled under the burden of the innumerable leather restrains over her body. She paused to catch her breath, tremulous hands gripping to the arm rests to which she was bound to and nails digging out small chunks of the wood. She was trapped.
From the corner of the room, sunken into a Persian saddle-bag, a young vampire sat watching. Smoking, as was his custom, an unending amount of cigarettes, he could just about catch the scent of blood running through her veins; he’d occasionally take a deep inhale and close his eyes, almost moaning at the heavenly smell.
Watching as the autumn night breeze stirred the fallen leaves and other debris on the ground, the old lady once again whimpered. A look of disillusionment with the world across her face made the younger man scoff, standing.
“Shut up, hag. You’ll be dead soon so there’s no point in even trying.” He waltzed to her side, taking the final drag of the cigarette and stubbing it out.
“Fuck you!” She croaked out through suppressed tears, launching a spit at his feet, landing on the tips of his freshly polished dress shoes.
He laughed. “You’ll fucking pay for that, you bitch-”
“Jisung!” the younger flinched slightly at the sudden voice. “Leave it, Moon’s on his way.”
He couldn’t hide the annoyance on his face, but also knew his place. Head hung, Jisung almost marched out of the room, huffing like the moody eternal teenager he was damned to be.
(Y/N) looked at the poor sight in front of them, sighing as they take seat in Jisung’s chair. “Look at you, you’re all worked up.”
They took pity on the lady. She couldn’t help it, she was cattle fearing the prey.
“Please try and calm down, I know this is scary, but it’s not as bad as you think.”
-
From the heart of Songpa, where the usual money changers, pickpockets and disgruntled police officers did everything to make the atmosphere worse, (y/n) walked on towards their destination. After two days of going uphill, (y/n) arrived at their hostel, right on the boarder of Songpa and Gangnam. The air was cold and thin. Gasping for breath, (y/n) said goodbye to a life they had fallen in love with and entered a new phase. But in this phase, it seemed as though someone had dimmed the lights and turned down the volume. Gone were the smiles and the friendly cheers of encouragement from the roadside. Gone were the breathing lungs, beating heart, and all sense of humanity. Here the veins ran baron, and hearts were constructed of marble. It rained, it was cold, and they wanted to turn around.
Sheltering from torrential rain in the doorstep, (y/n) put down and shook off their umbrella. Before they could open the door and step inside, their stomach rumbled obnoxiously loud; “Just one more, one more human experience.”
The 7/11 in front of the hostel beckoned them in, (y/n) surveying their options for dinner; a few limp-limbed chickens did another turn in their mechanical rotisserie, a plate of worn-out humitas, a sweet tamale, waited for that unlucky customer to save them from another night under the heat lamp, a bored teenager with too much hairspray prodded and probed a row of disturbingly red hotdog sausages - not at all tempted by the usual suspects that made up their options, they began to wonder if their hunger could hold out forever.
But hello, what’s this?
At the end of the street, sheltering from the rain under a tatty parasol, an old man was fanning frantically at the coals of his small grill. (y/n) walked over, taking a seat on the cold steps of the grocery store from which he served, and watched him work while a steady stream of customers pulled in from the rain.
They completely lost sense of all reality, the atmosphere was almost perfect - so human, so real. It’s exactly what they needed.
“Enjoying your last night?” A voice softly questioned. It was Taeil, (y/n) didn’t even have to look to know; they knew his voice like they knew their own. He sat down next to them on the step. “You’re pretty, your soul is pretty. You’re pure, I guess, maybe like an angel?”
They sighed. “My body is the lint, the gasoline, and the matchstick; my body is a crime scene. I’m like a bushfire. I walk like an apology. My body is a hive for unfortunate circumstances. I think I drink too much and it’s because they broke me.”
“Don’t worry, my love, it’ll be over soon.”
-
“Are you almost done? It’ll be light soon, we can’t put a body out when the sun comes up.”
Taeil sighed with frustration, detaching himself from the old woman’s body and wiping away the tiniest drip of blood that leaked from his lips with his thumb. “I told you to stop bringing me old ones, they’re harder to feed from.”
“Actually, the kid brought her.” (Y/n) answered, quite matter-of-factly.
Jisung looked offended, “The kid? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Don’t talk to me like that, you little pest! Remember, it’s your turn to put the corpse out. It’s about time you started pulling your weight around here.” Jisung sighed loudly and folded his arms over his chest. “Jisung?”
“What?” Honestly, he couldn’t be more hormonal if he was alive.
“What will we do with the dead bodies?”
“The vultures will swoop in soon enough, it isn’t our concern anymore.” Those words left his mouth almost robotically. They’ve been drilled into him since he was turned. They were drilled into (y/n), too.
(Y/n) smiled like a proud parent, leaning over to pinch his cheek between their index and middle finger knuckles, mocking him; “Such a good baby bat.”, only to have their hand swatted away for embarrassing Jisung.
“I’m done. Jisung, dispose of it before sunrise.” Taeil sat in the younger’s spot almost the instant he rose, almost finding great entertainment watching the lifeless body of a fully grown woman pose much stress to lift and carry out of the room. That was his entertainment - stress, struggle, pain.
”(Y/n),” he said, snapping them from their thoughts, “you’re a great vampire, and a great mentor to the boy.”
“Thank you-”
“And you’re good to me,” (y/n) almost stifled a giggle in disbelief, “I mean it! I love you.”
I, chocolate-chip-rookies, take Zhong Chenle of NCT to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.
congratulations! you may now kiss the groom 💓 mar 23, 2018
