The boy stepped out of the dark, wrecked structure, his boots crunching on broken concrete.
One hand stayed in his pocket. The other held a black polythene bag, kept at arm's length like it was something contagious.
The wind carried the stink back at him.
He paused, sniffed the air near his shoulder, and grimaced.
"Still reeks…"
Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small spray can, shook it once, and misted himself from head to toe.
Some of it stung his eyes, but he didn't care.
He tossed the can aside and exhaled.
"Better. At least it doesn't smell like a butcher's bin now."
He walked deeper into the shattered lot, where the fight had clearly ended. Twisted steel beams. Scorch marks. Blood everywhere.
And there—
Lying motionless on the cracked pavement was a girl, barely conscious.
Her short crimson hair was matted with blood and dirt. Her clothes were torn, body battered, barely breathing.
He glanced around, found a rusted metal rod, and walked over.
With the end of it, he poked her lightly on the cheek.
"..."
No response.
She looked dead. Pale, soaked in blood, unmoving. But he knew better.
Between his experience and what the monster said, it was clear supernatural creatures are vastly different from humans.
They are far tougher than mundane humans.
Much harder to kill.
So, he waited.
And there he saw a twitch. Just a slight movement in her fingers.
"She is still alive. Good."
He dropped to one knee, tore a piece of plastic to wrap his hand, and hesitated as he reached into the bag.
The smell hit him again, worse than before. His lip curled.
Inside was a chunk of raw human flesh. Cold, slippery, and stinking of rot.
Indeed, it was from what he'd found on that discarded body near the entryway.
He clenched his jaw.
"Just don't think about it," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Without another word, he crouched lower, pried open the girl's bloodied lips, and began stuffing the meat into her mouth.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—her throat moved. A soft chew. Another.
She started eating it unconsciously.
It was slow and unconscious, like her instinct took over.
The raven haired boy watched, expression unreadable.
"So, She is what one would call a ghoul," he said softly. "Not bad. Sounds better than 'man-eater,' at least."
His eyes lingered on her face.
'So appearance really does matter huh.' he thought to himself. 'Even though I'm watching her eat human flesh, it doesn't look disturbing to me.'
Indeed, If it were that abomination doing the same thing, he was sure he'd have thrown up on the spot.
"Or maybe… I'm the strange one for thinking she looks cute while doing it."
Even covered in blood, dirt, and bruises… She was stunning. Her features were sharp and striking.
And the energy she gave off, even unconscious, felt dangerous.
Without thinking, he reached out and brushed her cheek with his pale knuckles.
Warm. Soft. Still human… kind of.
He exhaled through his nose.
"She's something else. Out of all the creatures I've seen so far… she's got the most potential. The strongest presence."
He paused.
"…Though she's not the only one."
He stood up, his gaze shifting.
On the other side of the broken lot lay another girl.
She was in worse shape.
Much worse.
A hole had been blown clean through her stomach, blood pooling around her like a dark halo.
Her dust covered black hair was scattered over the ground like silk threads. Her skin was pale, almost deathly pale—but maybe that wasn't just from blood loss.
Maybe that's just how her kind
looked.
Yes this girl was a 'Vampire'.
He crouched near her but didn't touch her.
Just observed.
"...She's beautiful too," he muttered. "But in an eerie way. Looks like she was carved from ice and fire."
He looked at the two girls.
Red and Black. Blood and Night.
He'd seen plenty of women before, mostly in places where no one smiled unless they were paid to.
But these two?
They didn't look real.
They looked like something out of a dream....Or a nightmare.
Predators pretending to be human.
He tilted his head, still crouched, hands resting on his knees.
"Well," he whispered, to no one in particular, "looks like I picked an interesting night to stay alive."
With a sigh, he reached into the bag again and pulled out another chunk of flesh, the stench already familiar to him.
He brought it near her mouth, hesitating just inches away.
Then he blinked.
".... I'm an idiot."
He looked down at her face, then at the bloodied meat in his hand.
Muttering a curse under his breath, he tilted her head gently upwards and squeezed the meat hard.
Thick, dark blood oozed out, dripping down the curve of her lips. It trailed along her pale chin.
"..."
But even after several moments.
There was nothing.
No twitch. No reflex. Just silence.
He narrowed his eyes, his hand drifting toward her bloody belly.
There, just beneath her ribs, was a jagged hole torn through her abdomen.
The flesh was torn and raw, the wound deep, but what caught his attention was the blackened veins spreading outward from the wound like charred roots, tainting the surrounding skin.
"Poison…?" he muttered.
Or maybe something worse.
He exhaled.
"Maybe she really is dead…" he said softly. There was something close to regret in his voice, though he wasn't aware of it.
"Shame. She had potential."
He was about to stand when he stopped himself, glancing back at her face.
But something tugged at him.
An indescribable itch.
"…Maybe my blood could...."
A pause.
Then he let out a dry laugh.
"fuckin' shit, I'm such a fool for even thinking this."
Still, he knew one thing—if he didn't at least try, his odds of getting that thing from them were going to sink.
If he wants to live, he needs that 'thing' urgently.
"Worth a shot, If I don't try, I will die anyway."
He pulled out a small dagger and drew it across his index finger.
The pain was sharp, a shallow cut.
Crimson blood welled up instantly.
With a grimace, he leaned over the girl and brought his bleeding finger to her moist lips.
Then, slowly, he slid it in.
It was warm and wet.
He gently twirled his finger inside, letting the blood mix into her mouth.
But somehow, It felt...wrong.
"What the heck…"
But before he could say any further,
He saw her eyes twitch.
Then-
BAM.
He was suddenly thrown back against the wall with a force that rattled his bones.
Before he could process what had just taken place, he felt something soft press down on his thighs, like the weight of a sleeping cat wrapped in a damp cloth, warm and real yet entirely unexpected.
His eyes shot up.
There she was, the vampire girl with black hair.
She was softly sucking on his finger, as if it were the most delicious popsicle she had ever eaten.
She shifted right in front of his eyes before he could react.
Her tangled black hair faded into a sparkling silver-blonde, with strands gleaming softly in the dim moonlight.
Her diminutive form matured before him, and her figure now resembled that of a lady in her late teens.
Every shape and contour appeared carved, too flawless to be real.
Her face was ethereal.
Delicate features, full lips stained with blood, soft cheeks touched with color.
Then her eyes fluttered open.
Alluring azure.
Bright. Hypnotic. Cold and warm at the same time.
The boy just blinked, frozen in place.
But the moment passed.
Her eyes shifted, and that calm blue deepened into crimson—a violent, beautiful red that made the hair on his neck stand.
And without a word, she leaned in and bit into his neck.
He stiffened—ready for pain.
But it never came.
Instead—
Pleasure.
Warmth flooded his body, his limbs going light, almost numb.
A strange sensation bloomed inside him, rich and thick, like a drug seeping through his veins.
He had heard from the addicts that drugs really felt like this.
But-
Would it even compare to this?
His jaw slacked. His body relaxed.
His eyes were half-lidded, his breath weak, and all he could feel was the softness of her chest against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso, and the biting embers of her fangs buried in the back of his neck.
And above all, Euphoria.
But amidst all the excitement, his eyes trembled.
His hand moved.
He pulled out the dagger and muttered, "Ignite."
A red glow lit up the blade.
He brought it to her neck, ready to stab it.
But he paused.
The euphoric feeling stopped suddenly.
Something soft brushed his skin. Wet and slow.
A lick.
He stiffened.
Then, after a few moments, he felt her breath on his neck.
Light and steady.
He moved his head sideways and looked at her gorgeous face.
She was asleep.
"…You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered, dagger still in hand.