Bite Marks and Butterfly Kisses Vol. 2

Jonathan Pt. One [Siren x Reader] M/F

Let's start with this;

I'm human,

I'm an anesthesiologist,

and I can't feel pain.

At a young age, I became captivated by my uniqueness, watching other kids get bumped and scraped, wailing like banshees for their parents but never relating - never understanding how or why they reacted in such a way. I'd been cut, sure, but other than the crimson blood stain on my skin or the purple, mottled flesh of a trademark bruise, evidence of injury didn't exist. I couldn't feel a thing, even when I hurt myself on purpose.

Of course, my parents were worried about my determination to feel what others felt. I was put through intensive therapy, and anything with a sharp edge or point within our home was kept under lock and key. I wasn't suicidal, and I didn't hope to derive anything from the self-harm other than the answer to one question;

What did it feel like to feel pain?

I thought that if I dug deep enough - if I cut deep enough - I could feel something, but no matter how many times I weaseled away a kitchen knife or scissors, I could never appease my curiosity.

By the time I graduated high school, I'd decided to pursue medicine. Anesthesiology drew me from a distance, seeing how it induced the same effect I couldn't seem to rid myself of on the everyday nervous system. If it weren't common practice, people would beg for it - hell, they'd give up their firstborn in exchange for a dose. Apparently, getting dissected on a surgical table without it wasn't very fun. I didn't understand, but I'd come to terms with the fact that I never would.

That is until I heard about Dr. Jonathan Castel.

Our society swirled with the blood of humans and supernatural alike, our world home to more than a few species, sirens included. On the outside, they resembled humans, except for their sharp nails and two sets of fierce canine teeth sharp enough to slice through flesh and bone alike. They ate humans, and if they had it their way, your friendly neighborhood siren would dine on a choice-cut teenage steak, probably with a side of steamed eyeballs tossed in garlic butter; however, for obvious reasons, if they wanted to participate in society, they couldn't entertain their natural diet. Most sirens had acclimated to raw animal meat, while others were executed for murder for disobeying the rules and chowing down on the girl next door. Their urges were insane, and only the most strong-willed could keep their sanity in the presence of blood and gore.

It sounds harsh, but we'd all had to make sacrifices to live as part of a functioning community, humans included.

Dr. Castel was an exceptional example of a siren tamed. The man was cool as a rocket-pop on a southern Texas Independence Day. Soft-spoken, charismatic, with a subtle hint of 'I'm smarter, stronger, and faster than you could ever hope to be, but even though I'm higher in the food chain, I won't hurt you because as much as I am a siren, I'm also a man with self-control.'

Honestly, just the fact he'd excelled enough to become the top neuro anesthesiologist in the country had piqued my interest, but considering he wasn't human, the feat was even more compelling, and I found myself wanting to get close. I suppose I was hoping that someone as knowledgeable as Dr. Castel could help me find answers. Though I'd long stopped trying to figure it out on my own, I still wanted to experience pain.

That exhilarating, nerve-electrifying sensation that brought people to their knees - literally.

It's dark, I know, but seeing how others reacted, it was almost ethereal. Just once, I wanted to feel it.

I wanted to know - to relate.

I worked day in and day out, studying till my eyes burned, losing sleep but acing exam after exam until I'd graduated with a 4.0 GPA and sky-high recommendations from each and every one of my professors. I was a model student, and where my social life had been lacking since childhood, my academic career landed me an internship at the same hospital as Dr. Castel and, eventually, a position on the siren's team of anesthesiologists.