----
The moon was still full, its glow casting a cold, ethereal light over the crumbling walls of Mark's dungeon. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint metallic tinge of blood. Mark lay on the cold stone floor, his body coiled in pain, the silver chains around his wrists and ankles searing into his skin. He hadn't moved in hours, but the agony pulsing through his veins was relentless. The thirst—'his thirst'—was clawing at him, dragging him deeper into the abyss of his own curse.
Each breath felt like shards of glass tearing through his lungs, every beat of his heart was a reminder of the blood he craved—'Tong's blood'.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the thought away, but the craving had only grown stronger since the night he'd first tasted it. A single drop had been enough to awaken something inside him, something far more dangerous than the thirst for any mortal's blood. Tong wasn't just a man—he was the key.
But the key to what?
Mark's mind raced, unraveling centuries of memories. He had been cursed so long ago, back when the Moon Drop ritual had first marked him, granting him immortality at the cost of his humanity. It had seemed like a gift at first—eternal life, power beyond measure—but as the years dragged on, the true nature of the curse became clear. Immortality wasn't a blessing. It was a prison. An endless, hollow existence where life was meaningless and death was unreachable.
Yet there had always been whispers of a way out—a cure for those who had been cursed by the Moon Drop. The cure was said to be more elusive than the curse itself. Hidden deep in the annals of ancient texts, there was mention of the 'Golden Blood'. The blood that could break the chains of immortality. The blood born of purity and forgiveness.
Mark had searched for it, obsessed with the idea that his eternal torment could end. But the more he searched, the less he found. Until now.
Tong.
Mark opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling of the dungeon. 'Tong is the cure'. He had known it the moment he tasted his blood. It wasn't just that it was sweet, fragrant, and unlike anything Mark had ever known—it was the way it made him feel. Stronger. More alive. 'Human'.
The book had been clear: the only way to undo the immortality of the Moon Drop was to drink the blood of someone pure. Someone whose blood was golden.
But there was a price to pay. The ritual that had cursed Mark was one that required death, the blood of many sacrificed so that he could live forever. The Golden Blood, the antidote, came with its own sacrifice. To drink it meant to break the curse, but it also meant draining the life of the one who possessed it.
Mark groaned, rolling onto his side, the chains clanking against the stone floor. How could he do that to Tong? The man had no idea what kind of danger he was in, and even if he did, he wouldn't deserve the fate that awaited him. Mark's hands shook as he gripped the chains tighter, the silver burning deeper into his skin.
'Why did it have to be him?' Why did Tong have to be the one person in centuries to stir something inside Mark that resembled hope, only for that hope to be a poison? Tong's presence was a torment—he was the key to Mark's freedom, yet using him would destroy them both.
---
—Meanwhile, in Tong's Apartment
Tong paced back and forth in his apartment, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him since the full moon rose. He had barely slept, and his thoughts kept drifting back to Mark. It had been days since he last saw him, and yet, Mark's absence weighed heavier on him with each passing hour.
"Why am I thinking about him so much?' Tong rubbed his temples, frustrated by his own confusion. He couldn't explain the pull he felt toward the mysterious man. There was something about Mark that didn't make sense—something dangerous, and yet... alluring.
He found himself standing at the window again, staring out at the darkened streets below. The full moon hung in the sky, glowing ominously. Tong sighed, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with Mark. From their first encounter to the strange connection he couldn't explain. There had been something different about that kiss. Something otherworldly.
And then there was the blood. He shuddered at the memory of Mark biting him, the cold sting of his fangs sinking into his skin. Tong hadn't told anyone about it, but the bite had left more than just a physical mark—it had left him restless, as if a part of him had been altered. His thoughts were hazy, his emotions conflicted. It was as if some invisible thread now tied him to Mark, pulling him closer with each passing day.
"Where is he?" The question gnawed at Tong. He wanted to see him again, even though he knew it was reckless.
He walked over to the balcony, opening the door and stepping out into the cool night air. The moon was almost directly overhead now, casting an eerie light over the city. Tong leaned against the railing, staring up at it, feeling a sense of unease he couldn't quite place. It was as if something was coming—something inevitable.
'Mark...' His mind wandered back to that night, the way Mark had looked at him, the sadness in his eyes, the kiss that was both tender and filled with overwhelming sorrow.
---
—Back in the Dungeon
Mark groaned as the chains began to give way. The drop of Tong's blood had made him stronger than he anticipated. His body was rejecting the silver now, his immortality fighting against the restraints. It wouldn't be long before the chains broke completely, and when they did, there would be nothing stopping him from seeking Tong out.
His sense of smell had already sharpened—he could track Tong's scent from miles away, and even now, it was calling to him. The blood in his veins screamed for more. More of Tong's warmth. More of his life.
But Mark's mind rebelled against it. He couldn't allow himself to hurt Tong. Not again. But how long could he resist? How long before the thirst overwhelmed him completely?
The full moon's light seeped through the narrow window of the dungeon, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Mark stared up at it, the weight of centuries pressing down on him.
'Tong's blood is my cure.' But if he took it, he would be taking more than just Tong's life. He would be taking away the only chance he had at redemption. And that, he couldn't bear.
The thought of losing Tong—whether by his own hand or by the curse itself—filled him with a deep, suffocating fear. For the first time in centuries, Mark felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: vulnerability. And it terrified him.
---
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MY GOLDEN BLOOD - JossGawin FanFiction
Fiksi PenggemarI wrote this story as a bit of a vent for when I was feeling a bit down about My Golden Blood. I thought there might not be another novel I could read. Moreover, even if there is, it will be very disappointing because it must be written in Thai, so...
