Velvet Necrosis • vampire tk

Six

He doesn't miss the sun much. Sometimes he awakens when there's the last gradient of gilt on the horizon, stinging his wistful gaze.

The isolation is also not so bad, Jimin bringing him all the material comfort he could ever wish for - books, exquisite volumes no matter how rare or antique; video games and music, speakers in every room, the sound glorious to his now hypersensitive ears.

The killing is something he tries not to think about. With animals, the momentary high always keeps him conveniently blinded. He's learned to pace the urge, using his mind and movements to charm and disarm as he approaches the prey slowly. And to stop when the vitae is almost all consumed, giving the animal some grace before their slow demise. Human though, is a different story.

While the outskirt of Ironwood is all scattered ruins and the occasional sprawling ranch, the tenants at the old town center mostly earn a living at the local cement factory, a glaring behemoth carved into the nearest hill, spluttering out grey clouds that leave a coat of fine dust on every surface. There are half a dozen bars at the east end of town, catering to the labourers that need to blow off steam after dark - booze, drugs, women, whatever they can afford. There, between the decrepit lowrise and cracked sidewalks, is where Taehyung brings Jungkook to feed.

It's easy to spot the out of towners, the transients that are there for work. Their eyes flit and tremble between all the sinful outlets, calloused hands rubbing absently at a loneliness that cannot be easily settled. Mistakes rarely happen, but if they do, it's best the vessel is detached from society, not missed when they disappear.

Dark alleyways, the smell of rotting trash and engine fumes, the distant streetlight flickering like a dying star. Sometimes they would each take one, sometimes Taehyung stays in the shadow and observes, a grasp away yet unreachable.

The sound and scent are almost too exquisite to verbalize, drawing a tinge of guilt right at the onslaught. It's like the essence of life materializing into a golden, all consuming moment, each shudder and crack fueling something deep within Jungkook. Fragments of the stranger's life glints on his mind as the blood trickles down his throat - drunken brawls, white blinding pain from touching the burning kiln, forgotten teenage dreams, a mother's embrace... All the bits blend with his own ravenous hunger, and before receding into a drowning gray that stretches and stretches into blissful infinity.

Jungkook learns to snap out of it right before the heart quits, physically ripping himself out of the serenity that threatens to overtake him. The collapsed body always looks so foreign afterwards, all ashen and blood stained, devoid of the radiant glow and intimate warmth they shared just a moment ago. A lifetime ago.

He's ok with feeding. It is who he is now, who they are.

Or so Jungkook tells himself, until the day all his suppressed emotions and internal lies catch up to him like a sucker punch to the guts.

It's another unassuming day. Jungkook wakes up gasping, a desperate dream still wringing through his thoughts. His arm reaches to his side absently, even though he already knows the answer - Taehyung is not there.

Jungkook pads upstairs, and gazes into the dark forest filled with the whispers of spring. The snow has long thawed, replaced by muddy animal tracks. Tree branches flutter with shiny new buds. The sky is muddled but he can sense every vibration with crystal clear motion.

They'll be gone soon, Taehyung mentioned a few days ago. Ready for the world out there.

Is he really ready? Jungkook wants to say yes, but his gaze betrays him, shifting towards the forest on their west, to the lone house hidden in the distance.