One and a Half Vampires

1. Falsely Accused

Cold air bit in Hongjoong's lungs. It stung as if his chest were stabbed with a knife and the rest of his body echoed. He was burning up, heaving for the icy caress of the winter air to soothe his agitation. His legs flew across the ground, pumping scorching blood through his veins to carry him into the thicket. Bramble and broken branches grabbed for him with wicked hands, but he barely felt them. He broke through, hastened, and gasped. His sight blurred, and the night made the forest ground a death trap, but he couldn't stop.

He was dead if he stopped.

"Vampire!" A voice behind him bellowed. Every exhaustion that wore his body down evaporated when fresh panic sped up his pace. Like a bunny, he dashed between the looming trees, each appearing from the dark as if they wanted to put an abrupt stop to this ridiculous chase.

And perhaps splitting his skull open on a tree to bleed out was the kinder end than what his pursuers had in store for him.

A mob of people followed the boy through the forest. They stomped down the bramble and thicket and came crashing through with the noise of five boars in their pursuit. Their torches spent enough light for Hongjoong to find his way, but that meant they were close. Hongjoong had seen the murderous glint on their swords and pitchforks. They thirsted for blood, vampire blood.

"You can't run, monster!" The blacksmith heaved. Hongjoong knew them, each of their names and stories. They were the people of his village, the ones he grew up with every day. Now, their smiles had evaporated and ire threw ugly shadows over their grimaced features. They were just as blood-thirsty as their weapons and once they caught up, they would reap their prize.

Hongjoong had tried to argue with them. He still would. He would ask for forgiveness, would prove it to them by visiting their priest and receiving his blessing.

He was no vampire. This was all wrong. The story got twisted and fear blackened their pure hearts. Hongjoong ran with tears pricking in his eyes as they chased him from his home, but no one would hear him out. Not his aunt, not the girl living in the neighbouring house to whom he had gifted flowers with a shy smile, and not anyone else.

"I'm not," Hongjoong heaved. "I swear, I'm not." He barely had the breath to talk, but he was desperate. Even as he ran and the forest threatened to consume him, he needed things to be right. Those were his closest friends. He couldn't end up speared on their weapons.

But there was no mercy. Hongjoong had seen them burn women they accused as witches when Hongjoong thought their proof questionable. Once anger consumed their frightened minds, they wouldn't rest until they believed themselves safe.

Everything went wrong. In the morning, Hongjoong was at home, stretching languidly from a good sleep before making a fire to prepare a stew for breakfast. In the evening, Jongho came tumbling in, that big buffoon. He was the butcher's son, and he needed to show Hongjoong a mouse that had curled up in his pocket overnight. When he came rushing in, he still carried a bowl of pig blood from his family's work to provide their village with food. He tripped, spilled the bowl all over the floor, and shrieked loudly enough to alert the elders. They came rushing in, spotted a pale Jongho, Hongjoong unbothered, and blood all over the floor.

They lost two villagers to monsters just recently, be it a vampire or wild animals. Their bodies had been mutilated and strewn about a clearing, creating a similar mess.

The villagers hadn't listened to Hongjoong, and Jongho failed to explain on time. The next thing Hongjoong knew, he was running. By now, his legs started to give out on him.

He tumbled, towing against thorny bushes painfully. With a struggle, he launched back up. His legs begged him to stop, didn't want to take even another step, but Hongjoong forced them, pleaded so they wouldn't end on a spike. More tears spilled as he understood there was no way he could make it out of there. Too many villagers were after him and they knew how to hound animals to death.