Young. Naive. Thirsty.
Three words to describe Jungkook, newborn Vampire surviving on his own in a huge tempting city full of danger and mystery. His resistance to kill makes getting what he needs a tad bit difficult, especially when he meets a hu...
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The engine purred softly as Detective Bowers sat in his car with the radio playing at the lowest volume. Night has just fallen and he's parked near the boardwalk, furthest away from the lights and commotion of the city. It wasn't uncommon for him to post up here from time to time. it was always a quiet escape and deep in contrast to what he had to deal with daily.
He exhaled a sigh, titling his head with a tired grimace as he examined the glossy 8x10 prints in his lap. A manilla folder is centered there, containing the detailed reports and photographs from the coroner's office. All depict the graphic findings of the autopsies conducted on the most recent bodies found abandoned in some alley, adding to the list of unsolved murders.
Bowers keys in on one in particular and lifts it enough for the conveniently placed street light to shine over the most peculiar detail of the case, the puncture wounds piercing the victim's neck. His frown deepens and the words used in the report echo in his mind.
Exsanguination.
The draining of all blood in the body.
Every single one of them.
Dry as a bone.
When his stomach turns at the thought, he knew it was time to close the file. Bowers didn't make a habit of taking his work home with him and it was mainly because he didn't want the grit of his profession staining the energy of his home or his family.
But there was someone who needed to see this.
As if on cue, a soft tap at his window has him flinching and his eyes lift to find a tall male standing outside of his door. Dressed inconspicuously in all black, the gentleman leans down just enough for Bowers to make out the lower part of his face, shaded eyes, pale skin, and sharp jawline.
The detective exhales sharply once he recognizes him, trying to conceal the fact that he was startled a bit by the figure's sudden appearance.
He'd never get used to that.
Glancing upwards through the tinted glass, Bowers nods in acknowledgment before turning the key in his ignition.
The cool ocean breeze hits him as soon as he emerges from his car and the smartly dressed henchman that summoned him extends his hand wordlessly, signaling for Bowers to walk towards the blacked-out Yukon that's parked several feet away.
Bowers complies and walks with purpose, overly conscious of how close the gentleman was and of his holstered service pistol against his left hip as he moved. Not that it could help him in this situation, but his instincts were telling him to reach for the handle the closer he drew to the waiting vehicle.
The gentleman steps ahead of him just as he's about to reach the backseat door, cutting in to open it for him. His sharp movements have Bowers tensing but he regards him with a stiff-lipped smile of gratitude before entering and the fresh scent of pine and expensive cologne welcomes the detective as he settles in the seat beside the window.
