Chapter Text
Blood. Screaming.
Who was screaming? Was it himself? No. It sounded like a girl. He was growling. A deep, feral growl emanating from deep within his chest. It was laced with pure instinct. The red haze that had settled on his vision only deepened. It felt better when they put up a fight. Felt more like a hunt .
Red ran rivulets down his chin, neck, down his exposed chest, mingling with the dirt of the streets he’d been prowling for god knows how long. The body he’d been pinning down finally went limp around him. He detached his teeth from its neck and let it slump to the ground with a loud thud.
He couldn’t think. Only the rushing sound of blood and adrenaline filled his head. Not his own blood. Never his own. Who was he? What was he?
Starving.
He was still Starving .
He sat for a moment on the wooden floor, eyes calmly closed, blood already drying around his chin. He looked the picture of serenity, almost as if he was asleep. Then, a sound caught his ears. The blood. His meal had made a noise and he was hungry.
His head whipped towards the sound, eyes shooting open, red and glowing ever brighter when his gaze latched on to the cowering form pressed into the corner of the room, an upturned table partially obscuring his view.
The red haze leaked from his eyes as he pounced towards the helpless man. Another scream. Clawing helplessly at his skin, his meal kicked and writhed, but it was futile against such a powerful creature. It felt invigorating.
His teeth sank into another artery, the streams of sustenance flooding his senses once again. This was what he was made to do.
The depleting pile of bodies cowering from him in the destroyed room wasn’t enough. He needed more. More than this.
Another lifeless body joined the pile.
He wrapped himself around his final victim and once again indulged in his fill of their blood before dropping them as if he hadn’t just massacred a whole room full of people. He used his wrist to wipe at the blood around his mouth. All that did was smear it further onto his face. His fringe had dried to his forehead, clumped together with old blood.
More.
Standing up, finally, he headed straight to the door and slithered into the long shadows of a setting sun.
He could smell it. His next meal. He could hear it. Talking to itself. It was definitely alone. One heartbeat down an isolated alley. What a fool.
He stalked towards his next target silently, using the shadows to shield himself from the sun. It was pressing something to its ear and talking to itself. So unaware.
And he pounced. More more more.
A scream. Indulgence and blood and he was drinking, it felt so good, it was just what he needed.
Then— Jeon Jungkook .
His name. His Name . His name.
He was Jeon Jungkook and what was he doing? The red fog lifted just as the latest body lost its fight.
He was Jeon Jungkook and he had become a monster.
No.
No no.
What had he done?
The only familiarity he felt was when the creeping panic began to claw at his bloody chest. He was so Hungry . Glancing down at his red, shaking hands, he knew. He had to leave. He was Jeon Jungkook and he had to run. Hide. From himself. Somehow.
And he did. He ran and ran until the bloodlust was long gone from his mind and all he could think was— sire . My sire. Where are they?
The midnight stars cast their judgemental eyes upon him as he looked up. They knew what he had done and they would not be so quick to forgive. They would try him for his crimes. He had to escape their glare.
Freezing rain began to pummel his bare skin, water obscuring his eyes. But it didn’t matter. His feet were carrying him mindlessly through the winding streets just fine.
Finally halting his incessant running, he stopped and looked around. He had to hide. He was so empty. Hungry.
He found himself in an alley, black bricks towering over him and cobblestones beneath his bare feet. A doorway caught his eye. It created an alcove that could shield him from the rain and the impending dawn. And those godforsaken stars. Huddling in a corner, Jungkook pulled his knees up to his chest. The blood coating his skin had been diluted by the driving rain and it was no longer tacky on his skin. He let his head fall onto his knees.
And he cried. The rain covered it up, but he sobbed. He was so lost and alone and he didn’t know who he was or what was happening to him. He didn’t feel like himself. He was so hollow. Where was his sire? He couldn’t feel him.
Sire? What did that mean?
His heart was yearning for something he didn’t even understand. But he knew sire was safety, he knew he needed whatever that was right then. The only thing that would make sense amongst the fear and confusion that clouded his otherwise scarily empty mind.
Nothing made sense. There were rushing noises a short distance away, a growl that crescendoed as quickly as it faded. There were wailing sounds both distant and close. And there were—lanterns, perhaps, of all colours reflecting a midnight rainbow in the puddles gathered between the cobblestones. Green reflected in his face from the puddle next to him. Jungkook remembered the boxy lantern hanging above the doorway he was now slumped against like a lifeline. It was strange, he’d never seen fire that colour before. He was sure.
Five brutal dawns passed and Jungkook could not make himself move from the safety of his alcove. He was hollow with hunger and a grief he could not place. He was dangerous. Wanted to rot where he sat. Deserved to rot. And that’s what he did. If he moved, he was convinced that that red haze would once again settle behind his eyes and he couldn’t think. Wouldn’t let that happen again. No matter how hungry he felt.
And so Jungkook sat. He began to shake and his muscles would periodically twitch and spasm, begging him to move even just an inch. But he would not. It was the only way to ensure the safety of everyone. He was rotting. He felt his life force begin to fade, his body slowly shutting down. He’d not had feeling in his hands for a good two days by then. His head never once lifted from the cradle of his knees. This wasn’t a bad place to die, he supposed. At least it was on his own terms this time.
His body eventually started breathing for him. The sun rose and set again and again, never having the chance to scorch his skin in the safety of his alley. The looming buildings wouldn’t allow it. Jungkook was taking periodic ragged, rattling breaths just to try to regulate himself. His lungs burned from disuse, and it felt futile. Yet his body still dragged in unnecessary air in its last grasp at life. It was pointless.
Jungkook knew it wouldn’t be long now. He no longer had the energy to open his eyes, not that he would want to anyway. His body had slumped even further into the corner and the rough brick had long since made its home dug into the cold skin of Jungkook’s back. He had tuned out the strange sounds and now the only sound that filled his ears were the occasional rattling breath coming from his own mouth. There was no telling how long he’d been curled up there, waiting for the sweet relief of death.
This was it. And Jungkook was okay with that.
Except, the usually faint sounds of footsteps suddenly sounded like they were closer. Jungkook’s dulled senses picked up the frantic shuffling of people running. And it was straight towards him. No. No, he just wanted to die peacefully and alone between the impossibly high buildings that now felt like the closest thing to safety Jungkook could remember feeling. He was so close to his goal.
Hushed voices echoed and bounced off the blackened walls. It was night again, and the quiet of the evening seemed to carry these voices closer to his location.
They would pass by, they wouldn’t notice him, Jungkook reassured himself.
The walls carried the panicked voices towards him, and he tuned in almost instinctively.
“ Here? Are you sure?”
“Shh. Yes. I can feel it. He’s around here.”
Shit. Were they looking for him?
Impossibly, Jungkook managed to muster up the energy to push himself further back into the wall with his legs, arms still limp and head still slumped uselessly. Unfortunately, his shuffling must have alerted the strangers of his whereabouts, and the running abruptly stopped.
“ Did you hear that? ”
“ Yes. Quiet. I think it came from down there. ”
There was a pause, and Jungkook had to hold his breath to stop his body from attempting to breathe. Except he was too weak to fend off the impending breath and he let out a shuddering exhale of useless air.
The footsteps instantly descended on him and Jungkook let out a faint whine of fear.
“ There! ”
“ Fuck, I thought he was dead. How is this possible? He was dead, Hyung. Is he dead?”
“ Namjoon, love, stop. You're going to scare him. Of course he’s alive, I can feel it. Barely, but he's hanging on. ”
The footsteps tiptoed towards him. Jungkook didn’t have the strength to move away. “ It’s okay, sweetheart, Hyung’s got you. You’re safe now. ” a hand tentatively touched his bicep.
No. He Just wanted to be left. But he recognised that voice. The soft hand resting on him felt familiar and he almost knew who this was. Amongst the muddy slog of heavy nothing in his rotting brain, a single thought fought its way to the surface.
Sire .
And he must have managed to voice that singular thought because there were two shaky gasps that followed, and a second, more certain hand laid itself on his knee.
“ Yes. Yes, baby, it’s me. Sire is here, he’s got you, love.”
And it felt so so good when the deep voice started to feel familiar again.
Except, then he was being grabbed at. Pulled from the safety of his corner. The corner he had chosen to die in. That couldn’t happen.
“No. NO!” Jungkook shouted hoarsely. He was going to lose control again. He was going to see that red and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to snap himself out of it.
Somehow, eyes still drooped certainly shut, he managed to scramble and bat the hands away from where they had begun to pull at his torso.
“ Jungkook-ah, it’s me. Please let me take you home. You’re safe now. Trust me. ”
“No, No. I was meant to die, please! I’m going to hurt someone. Maybe you, maybe someone else, but I-I can’t go. Don’t. Don’t!” Jungkook clawed weakly at the arms now trying to reach behind his back.
“ I won’t let you hurt anyone, lovely. I promise. I-I know I let you down before. We all did. But we’ve got you now. ”
“ Hyung, this isn’t working. What’s wrong with him? Why is he fighting you? ” The second voice asked, worry etching his tone.
“ I don’t know. Well—I think… never mind. I think he’s just scared. He’s been through a lot. I’ll just give him a moment. ” And the hands finally retreated.
“Can’t…go,” Jungkook argued weakly. But the meagre fight he’d just put up had drained him of what little energy he had left, and his body slumped, face first, into the uneven cobblestone below.
The last thing Jungkook remembered was those gentle arms scooping him up and pressing him into the safety of his sire’s chest.
⤝⤞
The strong scent of herbs was what Jungkook was greeted with when he finally stirred. It was an earthy rich scent that filled his head. He let out a faint groan.
“Hey, it’s okay, love. Don’t try to move. I just need you to drink for me. Do you think you can do that, precious?” a voice crooned at him from somewhere close by. It was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Somehow he felt like he could trust them easily.
It took a moment for the words to register in Jungkook’s exhausted mind. After a few beats of silence, Jungkook managed to hum a small affirmation. Then, there was a hand sliding into his matted hair to cup the back of his head ever so gently, and he was tipped forwards slightly. The warm rim of a cup touched his lips so carefully, and Jungkook parted his lips to let the liquid into his mouth. Gentle laps of steam licked at his cold cheeks and nose, warming him ever so slightly. The herbal scent was strong in his nose, it almost stung, but it was not unpleasant.
“So good for me, Jungkook-ah. Doing so well,” the man praised lovingly. His tone warmed Jungkook more than the herbal drink that was now gently trickling into his mouth. Bursts of ginger and something distinctly floral hit his senses, and he managed to make himself swallow it down. At least it didn’t taste too bad.
“That’s it, precious. This will help you heal. You can sleep again after this, just try your best to finish it for me.” And that made Jungkook so determined to fulfil the man’s wishes when he spoke to him so affectionately.
Jungkook found the strength to shakily reach up and grasp the hand that was feeding him his drink. That, and his periodic swallowing, were the only indicators that he was actually conscious, his body sunk uselessly into the bed he found himself lying on.
“Oh, sweetheart.” The man sounded close to tears, his voice taking on a slightly gravelly undertone.
The most tender praises reached Jungkook and he finally felt safe. Safe from himself, safe from the world, and he let his mind float on the lone thought that he was finally, finally, going to be okay. He didn’t know where he was or who was holding him so dearly but that didn’t matter when he knew deep in his bones that this man would take care of him. He didn’t know how he knew, but he didn’t care. He was safe and that was all that mattered.
Eventually, the last of the earthy drink had slid down his throat, and the man gently lowered his head back to rest on the pillow underneath him. A soft hand tenderly caressed the apple of his cheek and then brushed some of his hair out of his face. Jungkook wanted so badly to open his eyes and see the man who was treating him ever so gently, but he could not muster the energy. Instead, he let out a small sigh of contentment. This seemed to please the man, as he heard a faint chuckle, and his cheek was once again being brushed with loving fingers.
“You rest now, Angel, as promised.” And with that, the light source in the room was switched off, judging by the small click preceding deeper darkness behind his eyelids.
The sweet serenity of sleep overcame him and he fell into a dreamless rest.
⤝⤞
The next time Jungkook awoke was with his sire gently nudging his arm. He knew it was his sire because as soon as his senses came to him, he was enveloped in the sweet scent of safety and home. Of course, the man from before also smelled faintly of his sire but it was nothing compared to smelling it from the source. It was heavenly. He let out a groan and shifted as much as his weak body would let him. He still could not find it in him to open his eyes.
“Come on, dearheart. Do you think you could try to sit up for me?” the ever so sweet tone of his sire requested. And as much as it pained him to disappoint his sire, Jungkook did not have the stamina, and he knew it. So he meekly shook his head.
“That’s okay, I suspected as much. Can I lift you into my lap? No effort required on your part,” he assured knowingly, “but this next bit will be a little easier if I’m close to you. Would you be comfortable with that, sweetness?”
And oh, being held by his sire sounded heavenly right now. So Jungkook nodded in affirmation, and if he could have found the energy, he would have been smiling right then. He felt a foreign tug of affection deep in his chest that definitely didn’t belong to him. Some distant part of his brain supplied that it was his sire bond that he could feel. It was apparently wide open, and Jungkook figured that was done by his sire to soothe him in case he seemed distressed or uneasy. That thought warmed Jungkook as an arm snaked around his back and under his legs, and he was swiftly placed back down on top of a surprisingly warm body. His sire held him tight across his chest as Jungkook’s body lay limp horizontally in his lap.
“Now, you must be starving, my love, how about something to eat?” His sire’s voice never lost its ever-sweet edge. A fretting hand touched his forehead, apparently assessing his temperature. Except, that notion filled Jungkook with a bone-deep dread that startled his whole body awake. He tensed in on himself, eyelids finally shooting open. He didn’t even care that the sudden light flooding his vision stung his sensitive eyes.
It hurt every muscle as he recoiled in on himself, cowering away as best he could with the close proximity to his sire. “No. I’m not hungry,” Jungkook insisted urgently. His chest began letting out its treacherous rattles once more as he exerted himself with the energy it took to boost his body into sudden motion.
Finally getting to look at his sire was not as sweet a moment as Jungkook had been imagining, as he blinked at him with wide eyes, clearly startled at the sudden outburst from the previously docile fledgling. A sharp eyebrow was raised and that alone made Jungkook feel thoroughly chastised. But he could not back down. The increasing pressure of anxiety building in his chest would not let him.
“It’s alright, you can feed off of me. You don’t have to be afraid,” his sire coaxed, gently tipping his head to the side so that his pulse point was tauntingly on show, enticing Jungkook to take a bite. Jungkook recoiled further, and his sire had to catch him with an arm around his back so he would not fall and injure himself. “Woah, steady on, dearheart, you’re going to hurt yourself. What’s wrong, my dearest?”
And any other time, the sweet pet names and the ever so caring worry lacing his voice would relax Jungkook, but the fleeting memories of that uncontrollable red haze taking over his mind had him rattling out quicker more frequent breaths. “Slow down, sweetheart, everything is okay, you’re safe here, you’re safe,” his sire crooned, reaching his free hand out to cup Jungkook’s pale cheek. Jungkook flinched away, faintly smelling the blood that loomed in the vein lying just below the surface of his wrist. His sire’s frown deepened.
“I can’t, I-I can’t. Please don’t make me please .” Jungkook shook his head frantically, which was a bad, bad idea, because his world promptly began spinning, and his head suddenly lolled to the side with the onslaught of dizziness. It was quickly picked up and supported by his sire’s strong hand. Jungkook’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.
“Jungkook-ah? Are you still with me, bub?” his now slightly frantic sire asked him. Jungkook’s body had once again depleted what little energy it held, and his limbs dropped limply. The only thing that kept him from dropping to the floor like a potato sack was the tight hold of his sire that never wavered. He felt himself be adjusted and pulled tight to his sire’s chest. Jungkook’s rattling breaths filled the silent room, begging for some relief.
“This is why you need to eat. If you think I’m going to let you starve to death then you have another thing coming, young man,” his sire chided not unkindly but firmly. There was a small pause, and then the sweet, tempting scent of fresh blood filled the air. Jungkook’s body betrayed his panicked mind as he subconsciously drifted towards the source whilst vivid memories of bodies piled high, the insatiable need to feed flitted through his racing head.
Then, a wrist was being pressed against his dry lips and a few drops of warm blood landed on them. “Open up, sweetness. Drink up for Hyung. Hobi-ah told me you were so good for him. Can you manage that for me, too?” And oh, Jungkook wanted to. He wanted to so badly. The compulsion to blindly follow his sire had him prizing his lips open. And then the taste hit his tongue and his brain just stopped. Fixated on one moment in particular.
The petrified woman was shielding something small and warm behind her. She smelled like pure terror yet she would not back down from him and she was not running.
“Please, you can kill me, but spare my son. Let him go, and you can have me without a fight.”
But Jungkook wanted a fight. He tilted his head as if in thought, but of course, not much was getting through that thick red fog filling every corner of his mind. The red. It needed fresh blood. Her words never got past the sound of her blood rushing in his ears. Jungkook’s eyelids drooped lazily as he lunged straight for her neck, and when he was done, his blood-hazed sight was set straight on the small—
“—Kookie, Jungkookie.” Someone was shaking his shoulders roughly, but he couldn’t stop rocking. He’d somehow found his way to a corner of the room and had balled himself up as small as he could go, fingers gripped tightly in his hair, head buried deep in his knees. Jungkook’s rattling breaths had crescendoed into a loud, rapid series of choking sounds as he sobbed around his ragged breathing.
Jungkook gritted his teeth as he yanked at his hair harder, begging the memory to stop. The lingering taste of blood on his tongue made him shake harder, and his incessant rocking picked up in pace.
“Jungkook, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re here with me, love,” his sire coaxed lovingly, trying to urge Jungkook to stand by gently lifting him by his arms. “Come on. You have to eat, it’s been weeks, it’s not healthy—”
“I—can’t—” Jungkook managed to heave out through tightly gritted teeth.
“You’d have a hard time trying to hurt me, love, I promise. Is that what you’re scared of?”
Jungkook shook his head hard, which had his head spinning once again, and Jungkook almost fell forwards as his ears began filling with cotton and everything sounded muffled. “The—the red, it’s going to take over, I’m a monster,” Jungkook choked out, coughing violently from the effort.
“What red, sweetheart? Nothing can get you here. You’re home, can’t you see?” His sire didn’t understand, he didn’t know what kind of monstrosity lay just below the surface of Jungkook’s pale, cracking skin. His sire had no idea the atrocities Jungkook had committed, and when he found out he was going to hate him.
“I’m a monster. Please don’t—don’t hate me. Don’t. I didn’t mean to. I Promise,” Jungkook pleaded. He needed his sire to understand that nothing he did had been of his own will. He didn’t even need all that blood. The haze made him want it so bad.
And something must have clicked in his sire’s mind because a wave of foreign love and empathy flooded his tight and aching chest. “Oh, my dearheart. Are you speaking of your blood haze?” There was a pause as his sire waited for an answer, and Jungkook nodded unsurely. Haze. That was a fitting description of what had happened. “That wasn’t you, Jungkook. That was—that was my fault, love. Not yours. I’m so, so sorry. I should have known, when I felt that blood lust, that it was not my own. I failed you, Jungkook-ah. Now you’re paying the price for my repeated negligence, and I don’t know if I could ever make it up to you.”
Jungkook’s panic was residing slowly as the resonance of love and overwhelming calm radiating from their bond replaced the tightness in his empty chest. “You…understand? You don’t hate me?” he questioned hesitantly. His sire’s heartfelt plea for forgiveness was confusing Jungkook’s exhausted mind. Why was he the one apologising? Jungkook had killed all of those innocent people and worst of all he’d enjoyed it. Revelled in it.
“I could never hate you, darling. You are my strong, brave Jungkookie.”
Jungkook finally let his hands fall free from the grip they had on his blood-matted hair and he lifted his head to look at his sire. There was nothing but authenticity in the tight, worried frown pulling at his sire’s features. His waiting arms were spread wide and all it took was a small reassuring nod from his sire to have Jungkook tumbling into the safety of his hold with a small sob. He was effortlessly lifted up and gently placed back firmly in his sire’s lap on his bed, all the while small apologies kept spilling out of Jungkook as he cried into his shirt.
His sire gently shushed as pitiful sobs racked Jungkook’s shaking body as he clung to his neck tightly. Gentle hands stroked his hair flat, and he felt himself being gently swayed back and forth. His sire was so so patient as he waited for him to calm down, and sure enough, Jungkook’s crying slowly subsided to small occasional hiccups by the time he lifted his head up. His sire’s expression softened into heartbreaking pity as he took in the forlorn, pleading look on his tear-stained cheeks.
“There now. I bet you feel better now you’ve let it all out, huh?” His sire asked knowingly. His smile grew as Jungkook nodded sheepishly, his doe eyes growing wider with adoration for his sire’s comfort.
“Now, Jungkookie, you have to trust me. You need to eat, but—hey, listen to me now,” his sire cut himself off when Jungkook began to squirm, his brow creasing with fear once again, “Hyung won’t let you hurt yourself or anyone else, okay? Trust Hyung, he’s got you. You don’t have to drink from my neck if that’s too much for you, but take it from my wrist.” He made another puncture with his own fang in his free wrist and held it back up to Jungkook’s mouth once more. Jungkook eyed it warily. “Come on. For me, darling,” his sire gently coaxed.
And oh , the panic Jungkook felt when he finally latched onto the fresh wound on his sire’s wrist was so worth it for the bright, proud smile that set his sire’s features alight. He truly was beautiful, looked like he was made for the night, Jungkook thought as he let his mind slip far away and his body take over the ordeal of feeding himself. It was easier to just let go, and he felt a thousand lightyears away from his body throughout the meal.
He didn’t even feel when his sire was gently coaxing his mouth off of the vein long after he’d finished actually drinking. He didn’t feel the kisses being dropped onto his head, or hear the fountain of praises falling excitedly off of his sire’s lips.
The next time he was aware of himself was hours after his sire had gently manoeuvred his body under the soft covers and left him all alone in the dark. And the crushing guilt that came flooding in when he felt the familiar fullness of his stomach had him doubled over and sobbing into his pillow miserably. He’d done it again, he’d killed people. He didn’t remember and he’d killed people.
The door was flung open and the light hastily flicked on as his sire came tumbling towards his hunched frame.
“Jungkook-ah? Are you hurt? Talk to me, darling,” he pleaded, as he once again scooped up Jungkook’s thin frame.
“Killed… people…” Jungkook choked between wretched sobs.
“No, darling, I was with you the whole time. You just drank from me, remember? Right from this vein.” His sire held up a wrist with a faint, almost healed puncture wound right on the vein, just as he’d said.
Still coughing out miserable sobs, Jungkook grasped his sire’s wrist and pulled it closer to examine. Faintly, he remembered latching onto that mark. He trusted his sire, and that was enough for him to start taking deep breaths to calm down.
“That’s it, take your breaths for me, brave boy. I’ve got you,” his sire cooed.
“ I am safe. My sire has me now ,” Jungkook whispered to himself repeatedly as he willed himself to calm down. And his bond was once again flooded with calm and all the love that attempted to piece together the shards that stabbed him deep within his chest.
The feeling of firm arms encircling Jungkook’s exhausted body lulled him into a deep rest once again.