Bloodlust - JJK and OT7 x OC - BTS Fanfic ***COMPLETE***

Prologue

Blood, thick and crimson, dripped from her fangs and fingertips, the taste of copper and iron on her tongue as she smiled through the ease of tension in her muscles. The adrenaline began to ebb, but her mind had never been clearer, the sight of the fallen men within the temple making one thing clear.

She had her revenge.

They had dared to drag her from her home, from the vast fields of Phoenicia, wielded with her mother as otherworldly creations by the gods as a selling point to be used by wrinkled men with halitosis. Her life as a child in her homeland was a million times richer than the temples and palaces of Greece and Rome, the seasons of the sun casting its glow on her caramel skin. Since that day, she had been a princess in a gilded cage, just as her mother was a queen with no voice under the thumb of the wine-addled king who had taken them in the end. Pandora had gone from proud priestess to cowering waif, as bitter inside as she was beautiful on the outside.. The girl had lost her name altogether, called Phanessa in a horrible annunciation of her beloved home as it slipped and slurred from serpent tongues.

The legends later would speak of how Pandora unleashed the evil upon the world, a shy and meek girl who fell victim to her own curiosity, but that was not near the story.

In truth, Pandora's act laid in the whispers she gifted her daughter's ears. The evils of men, the pain of fists and forced affection, and the prayers she sent to the heavens to send a savior. Days were spent teaching the girl how to use herbs to create potions and brews that healed or hurt, helped or hindered as the case may need. Nights were for learning where to strike with a small knife, to cripple or kill a man in order to save her own skin...just before Pandora herself was dragged to her husband's chambers to sacrifice her sanctity for his salacious needs.

It wasn't until that night, forever known to Phanessa as her First Night, that Pandora's prayers were answered. Aphrodite gazed upon the scene: A virgin, small of stature, giant of pride, her rich brown skin powdered to look lighter to please those who would use her. The goddess' eyes burned red, hearing the girl cry out against her assailants as they tore at her clothing and struck her in an attempt to demand obedience. In a rage-filled wrath, Venus granted the girl every power she needed to escape.

But Phanessa didn't want to escape, not from men who could no longer hold their strength over her. She wanted their end.

And so she took it.

In the form of screams, begging, and finally death, she tore them asunder, bathing in their blood and drinking their power. She ripped their limbs from their bodies with fang and claw, plucked eyes from heads and rived tongues from mouths as she cried and laughed against the pain in her heart.

Later, when she found her mother beaten and bruised under the king, she served him the same dish, killing him without mercy or swiftness. She only paused her rampage long enough to mourn her dear mother, who begged for death so she wouldn't have to live with the memory of what she had done and what had been done to her.

Phanessa's tears fell heavy as she murdered her mother in mercy, yet dried before she reached the temples.

Blasphemous buffoons, hedonistic heretics they were, neither knowing or communing with their gods, always speaking of sacrifice but never practicing the art. Phanessa killed them all. She cleared the halls and sanctuaries of their duplicitous ways. Hands that wore golden rings while delivering dirt from their mouths to the masses, stealing from the altars of their gods while getting fat from the money they raked in tithe. Standing in the middle of the results of murderous mania, she smiled, drunk on her accomplishments.

The evil that Pandora had released on the world didn't come from a clay jar or a wooden box, it came in the form of a vengeful daughter with a debt to collect.

--{-@

Stepping out into the night, Vanessa licked the blood from her lips with a satisfied sigh. There was still beauty in the kill, even after millennia of living. The first of her kind, she had spent her first years saving other women from the wretched lives that had been too close to the one her mother suffered. Unfortunately, sad women were a product of their environment, and slaves to their hearts.

As such, they had shared their gifts with men they loved, and the modern myth of vampire had gone from the the vision of a woman to fear into one of a man to worship. Romantic stories of Vlads and Edwards, Stefans and Lestats, were the rage, the women in those tomes lost damsels for saving or demons of dark desire. All because Vanessa had hedged her bets on a few women of weak constitution.

Love. What a fucking joke.

Regardless, her kind were more popular than ever before, although as male-dominated as the crumbling empires of history. She could feed, kill, and fuck to her heart's content...and so far it had always been content enough. Now, though, she was summoned to hold conference with the Princes.

Princes. Imagine being summoned to a court of the very beings you created. it was as insulting as it was audacious. Vanessa had no cause to answer to anyone.

Still, it was worth it to see what the fruits of her thousands of years had culminated to. Pulling a handkerchief from the cleft of her ample bosom, she wiped the final dregs of her meal from her mouth, heels clicking on the pavement as she made her way to the ridiculous appointment set for her. Tossing the fabric in a street bin, her shoulders went back, chin up as she decided whether to let the boisterous brats live after she heard what they had to say. Chances were leaning toward another round of blood.