Made for Min | SOPE

thirty seven | "let's just say we're going to be drawing you a nice, long bath"

When Hoseok had first learned about vampires, there was one thing his father had always made sure to emphasize.

"Vampires cannot control their thirst."

The way that humans needed air, vampires, needed blood. Whenever humans are placed in places deprived of oxygen, their first instinct is always to try to find it. Vampires, when deprived of blood, will take any means to get it, no matter who it is from or what the consequences can be if going too far. They'll tear to any human's neck without remorse, leaving their bodies paler than the whitest silk, their bodies mangled depending on the severity of the thirst. Hoseok remembered feeling the hatred coursing through him when he heard that from his father. He'd always ask himself how anyone could willingly drain humans of blood and leave them dead. It was a reason why his father had made sure that the vampires couldn't come into the human side of town— for safety and because the vampires were monsters.

If only childhood Hoseok could see him now.

He'd never been able to understand. Now, living it— being it, Hoseok could understand why Yoongi had warned him off drinking human blood. The pain was unbearable. When he'd only had animal blood, he was content. Never once had he felt a tinge of discomfort, a craving to consume it. It was more of a snack, something that he eased himself into. But humans? It was different. The seconds his fangs had pierced his father's skin and his mouth filled with the taste of Micah's blood; a fire ignited in him.

It was as if a primal instinct had been unlocked in him. His vision blurred, mind clouding as instincts took over, and he drank as if it were his final meal, ignoring the way his father seemed to claw at him, trying to get him to let him go. All efforts had been futile— Hoseok had made it so, and eventually, his father had stilled, leaving Hoseok to enjoy in peace. He thought that was going to be the end of it, but when he'd completely drained his father, all he could feel was the increasing need for blood. If he didn't get access to more blood, he would die. That was how it felt like. He wanted— no, needed more.

Though his father's blood had tasted of failure, Hoseok had fed off him. As long as it was human blood, Hoseok hadn't cared. Once he tossed his father to the ground, he found himself moving out of the door, his mouth latching onto the nearest unsuspecting guard. Now, this guard's blood was sweeter, and it hummed through Hoseok's veins, igniting his thirst even more. All he could see was red. All he could hear was the sound of the thrumming heartbeats slowly coming to a stop, leaving him unfulfilled. One, two, five, Hoseok lost count of how many guards he'd managed to worm through.

He'd only stopped when he could hear no more hearts. Hoseok licked his lips in distaste, his eyes momentarily clearing from the haze before jolting him back into it. It was like he had given up his reigns of control, his vampire instinct taking over, leading him out of the palaces and into places unknown. All he could remember was seeing Seokjin's eyes fall on him in shock, the scent from which he immediately recoiled. He could smell Seokjin wasn't a pure human, and he didn't want Seokjin's blood. He'd no idea if Seokjin had managed to see him before he had left, but Hoseok couldn't find it in him to care— not when his throat felt as if it were on fire.

With every drop of blood, the stronger he got. The lighter he became on his feet, the clearer he could see, and the sharper his senses were. He could hardly hear his feet touch the ground as he sped through the land, the wind whipping freely through his hair. He vaguely remembered his father telling him about the traits that made vampires expert hunters, and now, he was utilizing every single one of them to wreak havoc. He didn't even know how long it had been since he'd started his rampage. The time blurred into nothingness as he continued to feed, though he never once the sun rising. Maybe that was also part of his instinct— to go places where there was no sunlight to feed. Traveling past the water, through different time zones, all so he could continue to feed interrupted.