𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄. . . kim sunoo ✔

𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲. dulce est mori

1640

Sunoo marvelled at the sight of such a genuinely sweet human. An unfamiliar ache stirred within him, a sensation he had not believed possible for his dead heart — tightening painfully as he witnessed her eyes welling up with tears. In a more rational scenario, he would have already feasted upon her, leaving the village undisturbed for another month. However, an internal conflict raged within him. How could he bring himself to end her life?

'What do they call you?' he asked her.

'Nothing—' she began, stammering between sobs. 'Grandmother calls me Sunny because she thinks I am as bright as the sun but — mother never named me.'

'Why not?' Sunoo found himself asking.

How odd.

A girl without a name.

'She is not here,' she said. 'She. . . died giving birth to me. And father shunned me for that, so grandmother took care of me.'

'Sweet thing,' he murmured, bringing her in for a hug.

Confusion gnawed at Sunoo as he questioned his own behaviour. Why was he acting with such unexpected tenderness towards his prey? He could not fathom this softness in his approach. He knew that Jungwon and Riki found pleasure in toying with their victims, pretending to offer comfort before revealing their true intentions, relishing the moment of betrayal etched across their victims' eyes. Yet, Sunoo diverged from such sadistic tendencies. Instead, he found himself apologising to those he took life from.

It struck him as strange, this deviation from the established norms of vampire behaviour. After enduring more than a thousand years in this relentless existence, Sunoo had anticipated growing accustomed to the vampiric ways, to their sadistic nature inherent in their immortal life. However, he remained an outlier, never embracing the ruthless demeanour of his fellow vampires. Despite the passage of centuries, he had never acclimated to their cruelty.

He had been prepared for death, ready to embrace Astralis's claim on his soul, eager for her to guide him towards the gates of eternity.

'Just make it quick.'

Her voice was a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

Sunoo pulled away and looked down at her. 'I could send you back.'

'Then they would kill me themselves,' she explained. 'No one escapes you.'

He chuckled. 'That is true.'

Teary eyes looked into his own. 'So? Will you kill me?'

'I already told you,' he said, taking a step back. 'I will not kill you.'

Her eyes went wide — but not out of surprise. It almost looked like she was panicking. 'But then—' she uttered. '—no you have to kill me!'

Sunoo's eyes went wide when she clung onto his shirt desperately. 'Please don't hurt them! Kill me instead of them!'

Realising what she meant, Sunoo gently took hold of her hands. 'I will find another village. Find someone else to kill.'

And with that, Sunoo dropped her hands and took a step back.

'But—' she looked beyond surprised. 'Why won't you kill me?'

'Because you deserve to live.'

And with that, he began to walk away from her.

'Excuse me, but I don't think that's up for you to decide,' she said and trudged after him through the forest, her tears were swiftly wiped as she tried to gather herself.

Amusement was evident in the way his lips were pulled into a smile.

'The village chose to sacrifice me. I don't—' she cut herself off. 'Well, I. . . thank you for not killing me, but I have nowhere else to go. I cannot go back. They will think I am cursed and simply send me out into the forest again.'

'Then don't go back.'

She stopped in her tracks to look at him, mouth open. 'But—'

Sunoo simply kept walking.

'I will die if I stay here,' she said, picking her skirts up to jog after him.

'Then come with me.'

The request was so simple.

'I do not think I am particularly suited for that, Sir Vampire,' she admitted. 'I do not do too well with blood.'

Neither did he. But he would never admit that.

They had been walking for about an hour now, the night still young and looming above them. Sunoo craned his neck to look at the inky expanse above. While the wind played the tunes of the sea, the sky had its own song.

Sunoo recalled when he was born that many stars were named at deities — larger ones at least ( Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn ) — who were recently discovered to be something other than stars. Truth be told, Sunoo did not keep up with the modern science.

Yet, he knew those deities were the painters of the sky. With their expertise, they wove the sky together with colours of the cosmos.

Together, they announced night and covered day.

What made him stop in his tracks was when the milky-white stars began to take a different appearance.

Like eyes, they stared back at him; crimson colour shaped them, somehow brighter and darker than his own.

'What's wrong?'

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

'You don't see that—'

Sunoo could feel her eyes on him.

'The sky?'

'No. . .' he whispered. 'The stars, they're like eyes staring back at me.'

It was her time to chuckle. 'Maybe Harrow's coming for you.'

Without waiting for him, she walked past him.

Harrow. . .