welcome to the first of the epilogues!
a little context...
five years shy of the 20th century, haseong, chan and jeongin arrive in canada. what — or whom — will they find...? :3
tw: mention of drug use, some unsettling scenes, general sadness, etc. caution when reading ♥️
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~ 1895, Chan's POV ~
I sat quietly, watching the sun rise over the mountains. My 79,677th time seeing it. Same sun, different mountains. By now I knew why the faraway flames burned, why the light shone so brightly. Understood why it bothered to rise everyday, and that every day it did, we were blessed.
Haseong came up behind me, sat with his knees around me, kissed my cheek. I leaned back into him.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"A little later. Clouds will be moving in soon, see?" I pointed to the sky.
"You're really sure about this? It worries me, you going out alone."
"I want to. I don't know what Toronto needs yet, but I can help, I can try."
"Can't you just snuff out the fire under your ass for a couple days? We just got to Canada. The forest is so nice and big — we could explore."
"Can we explore tonight?"
He made a gruff little sound. "A little spontaneity would be fun sometimes."
"Then we can take a swim later."
"But you just said it — now it's not spontaneous."
"Then we can go cliff diving, too."
"Chan, no." He laughed, shook his head against the nape of my neck.
"Chan, Seongie." Jeongin shimmied down the side of the hill and dropped down in front of me. "I think there's a bug in my hair."
Haseong and I carded through his hair.
"Maybe not the best place to set up camp," Haseong murmured. "In the brush."
"Best we could do," I said. "Who would've given us a hotel room? We're foreigners here."
"That's why I'm afraid of you going out there. Western countries have never been kind to us."
"You think I'll get hurt? I'm a vampire, sweetheart."
"Physical pain isn't the only kind of pain one can suffer."
"I want to help with other's suffering."
"You're making me feel bad for hanging back and picking bugs off myself," Jeongin muttered.
"You can come with me, kiddo — be my little helper."
"No." He got up and wandered back into the trees.
Haseong wound his arms around me, sighing into my shoulder. "Remember to trust your gut. Don't overextend yourself. Come back to us."
"Always." I kissed his palm.
Rain started to fall. I said goodbye to Haseong and darted into the forest. Toronto wasn't far away — half an hour southwest. I slowed to a walk as I came out of the forest, onto a grey street on the outskirts of the city. It was empty but I stayed on high alert. I'd learned that humans could be more perceptive than they seemed.
They tended to take it further around me, suspicious. I wore the same clothes as they did, a suit and bowtie, yet they kept their eyes on me till I was long past. I knew it was because of the colour of my skin, but I couldn't help wonder if I was doing something else conspicuous. Maybe I hadn't blinked in too long, maybe my fangs were showing. Was it strange that I didn't have an umbrella though it was pouring rain?
A noise caught my attention. Breath. So quiet, coming from the other side of the street. A heartbeat was there with it — weak and fast, in distress.
The hospital was only a few dozen blocks away. I didn't like the idea of straying from my original goal — procure a job, one way or another, one establishment or another. But I couldn't walk away from this. The heartbeat was familiar, a body's cry for help. It sounded so much like Jeongin's when we had found him, barely alive, floating face-down in a lake off the cliffs of the Seoraksan, or Haseong's when I'd found him laying on the beach, half-drowned with his ribs shattered to pieces inside him.
I slowed, crossed the street in front of a horse-drawn carriage. The beating heart led me to the mouth of an alleyway. I tried to look inconspicuous as I turned off the sidewalk.
I skulked down the long, dark alley until it ended at a tall wooden fence. There was a metal contraption — a bed frame, I thought — leaned against the wall, a material like that of an awning draped over it. I pushed the makeshift curtain aside.
A human — a boy around Jeongin's age — was bent into fetal position on the cold bricks. I knelt down next to him, brushed his unwashed black hair out of his face. His skin was too pale, lips cracked, heart racing, teetering on unconsciousness.
I leaned closer and smelled him. His blood vessels were damaged, discharging fluid into surrounding tissues, his blood pressure was deadly low. Septic shock. How long had he gone without treatment? His heart and kidneys were so close to failing, a blood clot was building in his lung.
He was all but dead.
I did the logistics in my head. Hospital? How could they possibly help? His organs were shutting down now. Did he have family? Were they near, far... would they miss him, would he them?
I noticed something under his head — a bag. I pulled it out and searched for information. Clothes, a couple cents, nothing else.
"Help... please," the boy groaned, voice quiet and croaking.
I took that as a sign.
I packed his bag, threw it over my shoulder, and pulled him up so I could get my arms around him. Something fell from his pocket and clinked against the concrete. A small glass bottle.
Heroin. When I looked around, there were bottles and needles everywhere, one syringe.
Who was this little human, falling apart in front of me?
I hoisted him up, cradled him in my arms, and leapt over the high fence, into a backstreet. I listened for passersby as I rushed back the way I'd come. I didn't want to run while I was carrying him — it could be disorienting, especially for someone already so frail.
But then a carriage turned onto the street. I held him tighter as I took off, blurred through the city, faster than humans could see, and into the surrounding forest. The boy started panting faster, his stomach seizing.
I stopped and let him down onto his hands and knees as he threw up. Nothing but acid — he hadn't eaten. His body was practically slack, only held up by my hands on his upper arms.
"You're okay," I lied. "You're gonna be okay, boyo." I picked him up again. His head fell back, arms and legs limp, still panting. I carried him deeper into the forest, set him down under a tree where the rain couldn't touch him. I stripped my jacket off and wiped his face clean.
"You're gonna feel better," I rambled. "I promise you will. In time."
I unwound the scarf from his neck, leaned down and sank my canines into his throat.
He was suddenly conscious, breath coming back to him in a frantic gasp. His voice built up to a scream, his weak arms tried to push me away. I didn't move, at the same time kept my ears peeled for hearts other than the boy's. These woods weren't as vacant as would be convenient.
His blood didn't taste right. The clot in his lung hampered proper oxygen levels, the heroin left it bitter. Soon I could taste my own venom in it. I pulled away, and his hands shot to his neck, cupped the wounds in his skin. His little body, so fragile when I first saw him, bucked and thrashed against the pain of changing.
I tried to pick him up, but his arm jerked in my direction — closest he could get to a punch — trying to fend me off. I didn't mean to hurt you, I wanted to say.
I tried to pick him up again, and he swung at me, almost kicked me below the belt. I sighed and rubbed my temples. I plodded around behind him, took him by the wrists, walked backward and pulled him toward our campsite. He kept thrashing and shrieking, kicking up the leaves, flinging his head around. At least his vitals were getting stronger.
When I finally made it home, hours later, Haseong and Jeongin were waiting for me, toes tapping. I dragged the boy into a shallow hole a deer had made, laid my coat over him. There wasn't much else I could do.
I looked up at my family. "Hello."
"Who's this?" Haseong said.
"I don't know."
"You just — found him?"
I nodded.
"Family?"
"He was alone."
"What happened to him?"
"He was living on the street. Must've gotten sick, bought heroin to ease a cough. He got addicted, blew all his money on his fix. Got an infection — perhaps through his injection wounds — which led to sepsis, and he couldn't afford treatment."
"You got all that but not a name?"
"It's an educated guess. And he was barely alive, Haseong, I didn't ask questions."
We were silent for a moment.
"So..." Jeongin swallowed. "I have a little brother now?"
~ * ~
It was days upon days of listening to the boy's screaming, his desperate pleading to die. Every day I got more anxious. What if I had done something wrong? What if I'd jumped the gun, turning him? What if a drug like heroin was chemically incompatible with vampire venom?
And then his heart really started to pound. Beating faster than I could count. He shrieked and cried and banged his head into the ground, and then — quiet. Finally. No living hearts for miles around.
He breathed in short gasps, stunned, staring at the sky.
Jeongin, Haseong and I were sitting in a row on a tree root. I moved the slightest bit, about to introduce myself, and the boy whipped into a crouch. Despite his stance, his dirtied, scarred face looked more reluctant than aggressive, like he was closer to running than fighting.
"It's okay," I said, palms up. "You're okay."
He opened his mouth. Words were on the tip of his tongue but he didn't say anything. His entire body braced, and he curled into a ball in the leaves, hands over his ears.
"Please stop talking." He flinched when he heard his own voice.
"You're all right," I said gently. "Take a deep breath, yeah?"
"Please, p-please, stop talking, please."
We obeyed, didn't speak, but his hands balled into fists in his hair.
"Stop!" he cried.
Strange. We weren't talking yet he was telling us to shut up. Were the voices in his head? Was he schizophrenic, hallucinating?
"Stop, I don't know!" he cried again.
Then I understood. He was special. I worked to quiet my mind as I walked closer to the boy, squatted a few feet away from him.
My name is Bang Chan, I thought. What's your name?
The boy read my mind and answered as if I'd spoken aloud.
"It-it's Han Jisung." His eyes were big, vulnerable, newborn red. His face was covered in acne, babyish and round despite his sickly-skinny frame. His Adam's apple kept bobbing up and down as he swallowed against the thirst.
You're a mindreader? I asked.
"I... guess."
How old are you, Jisung?
"Seventeen. What's happening?"
You're a vampire. You're alive. You're safe.
"Wh-what does that mean, what's a vampire?"
A human, except different. Your heart doesn't beat. You don't need to sleep or breathe. You will never die. You can only drink blood now — whether the blood is human or animal is up to you in the end.
His breath was getting faster again. "How... did it happen?"
I bit you. That's how it happens.
"You... you did this...?"
I nodded.
Little Jisung didn't seem to know that he could have ripped a tree out of the ground if he wanted to, thrown a tantrum to beat all other tantrums. He held his face in his hands and cried quietly, curling up smaller in his ratty shirt and slacks.
Haseong walked past me, crouched down to Jisung and took his hand. Jisung recoiled for a second, and then looked up at Haseong like he was listening.
"I didn't h-have enough money," he murmured, tears streaming down his face. "My parents... they're gone."
Haseong tilted his head, thinking again.
"I... won't?"
Haseong shook his head.
Jisung pulled himself up slowly, bowed his head. Haseong put his arms around him, let the boy fall into his chest and cry as much as he needed to. I knelt behind Haseong and petted Jisung's hair. Jeongin crossed his legs next to me, didn't speak.
"You're not alone," Haseong murmured to the boy. "We're here."
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not gonna front....... i cried when i wrote that last scene. yes, i am an infant
re haseong's ribs being broken when chan found him — i put that in because i have this headcanon that haseong was a pirate before he was a vampire, and an enemy fleet had fired a cannon ball right into his chest. i imagine that he was ruthless yet compassionate, and his signature weapon was a bayonet, and he hated the 'all pirates have parrots' joke, aaaaaand now i want to write a story about his adventures on the high seas 😗
folks — *claps hands* — i'm bored. i have nothing to write, except this outro, which i am currently writing by hand while listening to miles davis and drinking water. have y'all been drinking water? i swear to jeepers, if you haven't, i will CRAWL through your screen and fetch you a tall glass of municipal tap water >:(
i really really enjoyed writing this chapter. i liked getting the chance to write something more "serious" — however serious a vampire/kpop fanfic can be. and writing period pieces is super duper fun and i really wanna do it again sometime. hope you guys liked it too!
bye~