10. Mood to Burn Bridges
Title: Mood to Burn Bridges
Character(s): Heechul
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 5700
Summary: Tenth installment. Heechul has always been something of a black sheep.
References: Story Archive
Heechul is ten years old - and very proud of the double digits, thank you very much - when he first meets his Aunt Taemi at a family reunion. The woman looks old to Heechul's young eyes, though he learns later on that she's only in her thirties. Her face is lined and grim-looking while she talks in a fierce undertone with Heechul's mother. She isn't dressed for the occasion, sporting jeans that have seen better days and a plain cotton shirt under a worn denim jacket. Dirt clings to her boots and gets crushed into the immaculate carpet (Heechul is half-scandalized and half-thrilled at the very idea of tarnishing the pristine fibers).
He decides to introduce himself to his aunt in a forthright manner, feeling bold indeed as he confronts this stranger, this anomaly, in his home. Taemi has a sharp gaze and her mouth curves into a smile that gives the impression of a cat's clever smirk, to which Heechul grins back in kind. His aunt isn't soft at all, just lean and wiry and smelling of cigarette smoke. The hand she extends for Heechul to shake is rough with calluses on the palm and scars at the base of the thumb, which shows two crescent-shaped indentations.
"What's this from?" Heechul asks, pointedly ignoring his mother's silent - but nearly tangible - disapproval.
"It's a bite from a hunting trip," Taemi answers, still giving that same feline smile. Her voice has a subtle scratchiness to it.
Heechul rubs the pad of his finger over the marks buried in tough flesh, imagination taking flight. He thinks of curved teeth and powerful jaws. Wolves, maybe. Or a large cat (spotted leopards and striped tigers, sleek and sable panthers). "What were you hunting?"
"Monsters."
It's at this point that Heechul snorts and drops his hand. The awe is gone, replaced instantly by the pragmatic mind of a precocious ten-year-old who is Old Enough to Know Better. Taemi laughs, but Heechul doesn't know what's so funny.
* * * * *
He doesn't think about monsters again until he's fourteen, getting home way past curfew with the sharp scent of blood still thick in his nose and the image of gleaming white teeth imprinted in his mind. His wrist throbs where Sharon had grasped it tightly, her fingernails biting into his skin; his own hand had been clamped over her mouth while he bit his lower lip as they'd watched, scarcely daring to breathe, while Sharon's new boyfriend tore savagely into the throat of a girl at the park.
For the first time in his life, Heechul had been utterly speechless.
"I think you should start seeing someone else," he managed to say once they made it back to Sharon's house. "Because I don't hang around people who date psychopaths."
"I think I should call the fucking police," she hissed, pale and shaking, and he stayed with her while she did just that. Her recounting of the event faltered at the 'and then he opened wide and chowed down' part, but Heechul didn't blame her.
He recalls the sudden snap of bone and the girl's dangling head being cradled in a parody of gentleness, the wet sucking sound that followed and the spill of blood shining under musty yellow lamplight in the park.
Heechul staggers into the bathroom and falls to his knees in front of the toilet, insides churning as the memory replays. It's crazy, that's what it is, like Hollywood horror coming out of the screen and into his life.
Of course, his mother chooses that moment to appear at the doorway, mouth agape in shock. "Where have you been? Are you- You're not drunk, are you?"
"If only," he groans out, flushing the toilet with one hand and gripping the sink with the other as he pulls himself up. Turning on the faucet helps override the 'Do you know what time it is, young man?' lecture. He rinses the sourness from his mouth and splashes cold water on his face, trying not to think about (the monster) Sharon's psycho ex-boyfriend splattering blood onto the grass beneath the tree. It will have soaked into dirt and roots by morning.
"...and this is what happens when you associate with the wrong crowd!"
Heechul registers the end of the tirade while he wipes his face dry with a towel, fingers clenching in the plush cloth. "Okay, I got it. I'll be sure not to mingle with any druggies or pedos or cannibal murderers with big, sharp, pointy teeth." He all but flings the towel back onto the rack, and then he then catches sight of his mother's expression reflected in the mirror.
Her mouth opens to form an 'o' of shock and affront, fair skin blanching to a papery white. Her voice trembles when she speaks. "You've been talking to your aunt, haven't you? Since when? Oh, what is she thinking-" Heechul wisely keeps silent as she whirls away, robe fluttering behind her like a persistent ghost.
What does Aunt Taemi have to do with anything? He treads after her as she goes to the phone, but she glares at him and orders him to his room before she even dials. Even leaving the door open a crack, he can't hear anything beyond a hushed muttering of one-sided conversation.
Time passes, and he takes to watching the minutes go by on his digital clock, numbers shifting in bright red angles and lines. He turns the lights off and waits until he sees the shadow of his mother pass, hears her door close. Heechul counts off another ten minutes with agonizing precision before slipping out and stalking down the dark hallway, light as a cat.
He reaches the phone and holds it to his ear, pressing down firmly on the 'redial' button.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end has that unmistakable slight rasp he remembers.
"Hello, Aunt Taemi," Heechul greets.
"Heechul." There's a pause and slight crackle of exhaling breath. Is she smoking at this hour? "What can I do for you?" she asks straightaway, business-like and knowing. He breathes deeply, then relaxes his white-knuckled grip on the phone and folds his gangly teenage body into a nearby chair.
Can't go back now.
"Tell me about monsters."
* * * * *
He's at the park again, staring down at the struggling body of the vampire. It's nighttime, but he can still see the creature's face twisted into a snarling, bloody mess, long canines bared while black, glittering eyes glare hatefully at him. Taemi stands behind the hunched form, pulling both arms back by the wrists and planting a foot on top of its spine. Heechul braces himself. She gives one solid wrench that produces a sickening crack from each side of its body, and drops the howling thing facedown in the grass. It tries to bite at her ankle when she steps too close, but the hunter nimbly avoids the rake of fangs. She faces Heechul.
"Still think you can stomach this?"
"Just kill it already," he says, sounding bored, already learning to tune out the agonized, animalistic noises coming from the creature. "I have homework to finish, and you'd better explain to my mom why I'm late."
"Deal." Taemi removes a semiautomatic pistol from her holster and checks the magazine. Then she holds the gun by the barrel and extends it to him. "You do it."
Heechul reaches out, thinking, It's going to be heavy, and it is; the gun is a cold and unfamiliar weight in both of his hands. Off to the side, Taemi calmly explains how to stand (front stance, evenly balanced, he's not in a fucking T.V. show here) and grip the weapon (tight as he can, don't shake - he is absolutely still). He doesn't need to be told where to aim: Heechul lines up his shot, squeezes the trigger, and puts a bullet deep into the monster's brain.
He staggers from the recoil-
He strikes his elbow against the wall next to his bed.
Heechul rolls on his side and curls in on his arm, hissing at the jarring pain. He rubs at his eyes with his other hand and blinks into the darkness of his room, wondering what could have woken him up. A trilling noise - his cell phone - piercing through the constant drone of the A/C is the most likely perpetrator.
"Shit," he murmurs, making a grab for the thing and picking up. "Who the fuck is this?" His sole intention is to find out who has the gall to call him after he just got back from a seven-hour drive, tell them exactly what they can do with themselves, and hang up.
"That's no way to greet someone you haven't spoken to in three weeks!" accuses the female voice on the line. "Why didn't you call when you got back? Jerk."
Heechul groans and rubs a hand over his face. "Sharon. Sweetheart. You may have a couple years on me, but you're nowhere near old enough to be my mother."
"Good thing, too. Who wants you for a son? But anyway, I'm on campus with a few friends. Since you and Jay are back, you should come have a few drinks with us."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he drawls. "I have my beauty sleep to consider."
"Oh, come on! I didn't see you all summer, and now I'm in school again. Who knows when you'll need to leave for your next trip?"
"You have got to be kidding me. I have spent the better part of my day on the most mind-numbing stretch of dusty, never-ending turnpike in the world - not even the apocalypse could get me out of bed right now."
"Well-"
"And before that, Jay and I were playing the 'gee, I really don't know how that body ended up there, officer' game because of the gaggle-fuck afterwards."
"All right, then-"
"The bloodsucker led us on a chase across the entire fuckin' state, I swear. Do you know what the weather's been like out there? I thought I'd melt, it was so wretchedly hot."
There's a muffled sound on the other end and Sharon's voice, slightly distorted and laughing, saying, "No, it's okay, he's always like this."
Someone else chimes in - lower register, definitely male. "Who cares, he sounds like an asshole anyway."
"Hey," Heechul takes offense and cuts in, sitting up in bed and raking his fingers through his short hair in irritation. He looks scruffier than he likes, but long hunting trips don't lend themselves to clean, sleek styles. "Hey, Sharon, tell that bastard to mind his own business. What kind of poor company are you keeping?"
There's some more mumbling and a peal of laughter in the background ("What's so funny, Jungsu?" "Damn, is he drunk already?") before she responds, and she doesn't answer his question. "Listen, I think I'm free tomorrow evening, so maybe we can catch up- Whoa- Hey, easy on the freshie! Heechul, I'll see you later then?"
Oh, I don't think so. Heechul throws the sheets off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be there in twenty. Any party of yours is hopeless without me."
"Great! I'll introduce you to everyone. I've already been telling them about you - nothing but good things, I promise."
"Sharon Kwon," he says with a sigh and a little eye-roll. "You are such a liar."
* * * * *
The kitchen is warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the flurries and three inches of accumulated snow outside. Heechul shivers reflexively at the memory of Kangin (that infantile bully) dumping snow down his back just a few hours ago, and he smoothes his fingers over the sweater Leeteuk let him borrow.
Aside from Heechul and Jay, the kitchen is deserted, though other voices of friends and family can be heard around the corner. It's private enough for now, but Heechul takes care to speak in an undertone. If some of the others heard them talking shop during the holidays, well, it would just be a nuisance to deal with. What they don't know can't hurt them.
"Rumor has it that a certain distinguished family has been seen in Chicago," Heechul begins lightly with his gaze wandering over the countertop. A plate of sugar cookies catches his eye and he deftly swipes one, biting into it. Sharon had baked up a storm for the occasion - all four of the hunters home for Christmas.
"And what sort of disreputable source did you hear that from?" Jay wants to know, head bent over the counter to converse more confidentially.
"You're questioning the legitimacy of my sources?" Heechul asks in disbelief. "Who was it that started us on that wild goose chase in Atlanta? We spent weeks there, and all I got was sunburned. I looked terrible." He turns his nose up while popping the remaining bit of cookie into his mouth.
"Call it the voice of experience, then," Jay admits sourly. Heechul chews, swallows, and relents, patting him on the cheek.
"Well, I got wind of this straight from the higher-ups."
Jay's doubt returns in full-force. "They want us to go after the Choi family?"
"Don't make me hit the stupid out of you. It's not an official mission, but it's right there, ripe for the picking if you ask me."
"Sounds more like a warning to stay away."
"What next?" Heechul sneers. "Do we need to start wearing water wings before we get in the pool? So the Chois been around the block, so what? They die just as easily as the rest. Last I checked, hunting wasn't for the faint of heart to begin with."
"My friend, you are certifiably insane." But Jay cracks a smile as he says it. "Wouldn't it be glorious if we managed it, though? There has to be some decrepit old man on the Council from that lineage."
"Our biggest worry would probably be keeping that one alive long enough to question. The Council is supposed to be, what, all the old-fashioned, paranoid ancestors?"
"The Council was formed before the guilds, so there's not much recorded about its history. The families themselves are even older. Didn't you learn this already?"
"Oh, who cares, anyway?" Heechul brushes off the teasing. "Book learning doesn't amount to anything when you're facing a creature full of bloodlust and a huge pair of teeth." He grabs another cookie and motions to the rest of the plate. "Try one, or are you afraid of ruining your girlish figure?"
"My girlish figure. Right." Jay reaches out to sample one when suddenly they hear a commotion from the living room. A child's cry rises up over the rest of the noise.
Sharon peers around the corner, looking rather harried. Her eyes light upon Heechul. "Bring some paper towels out here, would you?"
* * * * *
The first thing Heechul does when he gets back to his cheap hotel room (after nervously jamming the cheap key into the cheap lock and shoving open the cheap fucking door) is kick the paint-peeling wall and overturn the wobbly table. Then he tries his cell phone - or he would, if he had the blasted thing on him. It's not in any of his pockets, but who would he even call? Miranda wouldn't want to hear about this. Miranda isn't supposed to hear about this; they'd already told him to back the fuck off on the Choi family after what happened with Jay, but he'd ignored those orders and tracked Shiwon down anyway. Heechul needs to do this, despite (no, because of) the casualties, and it would have been fine. It would have been fine if not for that one mistake, just an accident-
"I told him to get the hell out of there," Heechul snarls, kicking the wall again for good measure. Someone in the next room swears at him. "Fuck you!" he screams back.
He stands there and breathes heavily for a while, body strung impossibly tight, heart pounding, and with bruises starting to purple his skin. There's blood on his clothes - Shiwon's blood, and not enough of it to make him feel satisfied. There had been more blood on the rooftop, pooling rapidly even as he rushed away from the scene. He hadn't checked on the kid, but maybe he should have, shit, he'd just left him there with a goddamn vampire...
What was I going to do? he asks himself, peeling off his blood-stained coat and yanking open the door to the small bathroom. He clicks the light on and runs the faucet, shoving his hands under icy, sputtering water. Wait around until the police found me with the gun practically still smoking in my hands? Or until Shiwon tore my throat out? So I fucked up.
Twice. He's done it twice, including Jay.
Heechul cups his palms together and splashes water on his face, then pushes back his loose hair. Kangin had scoffed when he started letting it grow longer, "Like you weren't already girly enough." He remembers sneering back with a scathing remark about Kangin's ugly mug while Leeteuk smiled (complacently or with a hint of teasing?) and said that it suited him. Sharon had lamented that he was prettier than she was...
He grips the edges of the sink and watches his reflection's lip curl. A bead of water slides down his cheek to his chin. His eyes are wild and his expression raw, and the sound of a gunshot still rings in his ears.
"Everyone fucks up sometime," he says with conviction, and tries not to do something fantastically stupid like punch the mirror. Kangin would, and Heechul is so much more civilized than that. He's smoother than Leeteuk, and he's prettier than Sharon - Sharon, his childhood friend who first dated a vampire that almost killed her, then married a hunter and killed herself. Leeteuk isn't that smooth anymore - Heechul has hardly heard him say a word since then, and doesn't expect to hear much anytime soon. Kangin is still a violent brute - a comforting fact in its own way, and Heechul settles for slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.
* * * * *
He moves to another town quickly after that. God, he isn't that stupid. Heechul gets a new cell phone and a new number, but doesn't call anyone important. Common sense tells him to lay low and he does, but he keeps his eyes and ears open all the same. After a while, he can't help but stray into certain pubs, asking around. It's no wonder that Miranda catches up to him so fast.
"You have an obsession," Mithra informs him by way of greeting one day, sliding into the booth across from Heechul. They're located in a little dive called, morbidly enough, The Gallows.
"I don't see why everyone gets their panties in a twist over it," Heechul returns sharply as he thumbs through a notepad filled with information, old and new, concerning the Choi family. "I'm hunting, remember, it's in the job description. 'Obsession' is such an ugly word to use between friends. Honestly, I'm hurt. How are you? Still alive, I see, which is more than I knew five minutes ago."
"I'm good," is Mithra's reply. He continues, steady and unhurried, "We're not going to stop you, you know."
"How considerate, Miranda is finally quitting with the baby treatment. Do I get to ride the big kid rides next?" Heechul flips a page and crosses out a few lines, scribbling in an additional note.
"We're not going to help you anymore, either."
Heechul keeps writing. His pen doesn't waver and he doesn't blink, but his lips press together into a thin line. "I certainly didn't see that one coming," he says sarcastically, scrawling down another note in shorthand, his handwriting messier than before. "It's not like the guild is that helpful - all they do is tie themselves up with their red tape, and sometimes shit happens. I'm not exactly sorry. You can tell them that: I'm not sorry, but they might be after I exterminate these monsters. Do I need to spell it out? Draw a map? You know the Choi family is like a golden ticket to the Council. Wouldn't that just suck for the guilds, with all their resources, to be beaten out by an independent?"
A grin tips Mithra's lips as he eases back in his seat. "If anybody could do it, it'd be you."
"Why else would I subject myself to this kind of pencil-pushing torture - for brownie points? Miranda is as dead to me as I am to them. I don't need their restrictions to finish what Jay and I started, and I am going to finish that whole rotten lineage. Especially Shiwon. His face alone is cancer to my soul."
"I think you ran into him on one of his good days, actually."
Again, Heechul isn't very surprised. Of course Miranda knows all about that miserable escapade. It's been a few weeks. Heechul sighs and slaps his pen down on top of the paper. He meets Mithra's eyes evenly. "I fucked up, didn't I? Really fucked up."
"You're not the first."
"Oh, well, there goes my hope for unparalleled notoriety-"
"Fine: you fucked up. You always were shit at following orders, but this time you killed a human on a mission you were explicitly told not to pursue, and because of it you're getting dishonorable discharge from the guild. You can't work in a group and you have that personality that people hate. You're kind of an ass. You also have terrible taste in clothes."
Heechul grabs his mostly-full glass and motions threateningly with it, as if to pour its contents on his friend. "Who has terrible taste?" he demands, but Mithra only deadpans at him. Heechul sets the drink back down with a thump, composed again as if nothing had happened. "You're like a frigging rock, as always. Thank you - it's not normal without someone lecturing me on my misbehavior."
"It's terrifying," Mithra admits, "to think of you running amok under no one's authority but your own."
"Freedom at last," Heechul declares with relish, making a toast with his drink. His face pulls in a grimace after a sip. "Freedom tastes like dishwater. Hasn't anyone here ever heard of standards? God, what a dump."
* * * * *
"Well, fuck me."
Heechul keeps his voice low, but the sound still echoes faintly in the empty parking garage over a constant drip of water. The place is abandoned and partly crumbling on one end, revealing a smoggy sunset, but there's evidence of people using the space on a semi-regular basis. The remains of a fire, empty bottles and cans, folding chairs, and overturned crates... From kids, most likely, fucking themselves up with drugs and alcohol, or the homeless seeking whatever shelter they can get. Whoever comes here next will be in for a surprise when they drop by, unless Heechul can find a way to get rid of the two bodies. That's another thing Miranda was useful for: clean-up. The last thing he needs is a trail of suspicious corpses and even more suspicious cops following him across the country.
He crosses his arms and scowls down at the troublesome pair as he figures out his options. Fire could work, but he only has one lighter and it's out of fuel. His car is too far away, though he could go get it and hope no one stumbles upon the scene while he's gone. He sure as hell isn't going to carry the two bodies out of here.
"Shit," he hisses, narrowing his eyes. If he'd known that it would be this much of a pain afterwards, he wouldn't have bothered. He failed to save the human, anyway, as evidenced by the gaping wound at the man's throat. Shooting, stabbing, bludgeoning - all typical forms of violence and horrible in their own ways, but normal when you get down to it. Bite wounds wouldn't be too bizarre except it would be pretty clear to any professional that the shape of the jaw isn't a dog's. As for the vampire, a woman more resembling a hooker, she has a scattering of bullets in her torso.
"Need some help with that?"
Heechul spins, arm snapping up with his pistol in hand. The rush brings a grin to his face, though inside he's screaming at himself: How could you allow yourself to get caught?! He hadn't sensed a thing.
"Depends. What sort of help did you have in mind?"
The stranger, possibly feeling magnanimous, steps away from a concrete column and into the open. He's tall and lanky - no, more graceful than that, casually poised, letting his hands dangle at his sides instead of holding them up to placate. There's no alarm evident in his expression or posture, nor tenseness, though he's in the direct line of fire. Whereas the newcomer is relaxed, Heechul feels coiled like a spring, but his finger is steady on the trigger. At this distance, he could easily put a bullet in the other guy's skull.
The man inclines his head meaningfully toward the bodies, keeping his eyes (fearless or indifferent, or maybe it's the same thing) on Heechul. "Getting rid of that."
"Yeah, because that's not a weird offer at all. Does it come with an explanation?" In the man's following hesitation, Heechul hears a trace of uncertainty. "Tick tock, baby, I don't have all night."
"You've been asking about Shiwon. About his friends, his enemies, his city." There's something new in his tone - amusement? - and a bit of an accent Heechul hadn't noticed before.
The City, though... That was one of the easiest nuggets of information to find in relation to Shiwon. Heechul had gone there, but the place itself wasn't that helpful. Shiwon hadn't been in town, and there wasn't much new info to be gained.
"Uh-huh. So what about you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious?" Heechul tilts his head, an easy-going smirk on his lips. "Friend or enemy?"
"Both, to you," he says, and he might as well get points for honesty. "What do you think of a mutually beneficial arrangement? I can tell you about Shiwon's enemies."
An interesting proposition, to be sure, and something that would require a lot of thought, possibly some background digging.
But hunting isn't a cautious job, no matter what the guilds stand for. Procedure counts for nothing when it comes to the chase and the instinct. Heechul shrugs and says the first thing that comes to mind.
"Sounds fun." He lowers his gun and motions the other over. "So about clean-up..."
Heechul is watching carefully as the stranger approaches his side, so he catches the focus of the other man's gaze and the slight movement of his throat. There is an awful lot of blood, but the subtle response isn't one of fear of disgust. Suspicion spreads like a stain. Heechul grabs a fistful of the guy's coat to yank him down, then he pushes the muzzle of his gun under his chin.
"Let's try this again," he begins nonchalantly. "What is this about, vampire?"
There's no denial, no fear or surprise, which is annoying. Mild discomfort from the forced angle of his head is the only thing that can be read in his eyes.
"I figure it's about getting rid of Shiwon."
* * * * *
Click... Click... Click...
Heechul opens and closes the lid of Taemi's old Zippo lighter. He doesn't smoke, so it's of no practical use to him, but it's the only thing of hers that he possesses (unless he counts everything she taught him, then it's only a drop in the bucket).
He swipes his thumb over the faded image painted on the metal side. He wouldn't consider himself the sentimental type; the reason he keeps the lighter isn't for his mentor's sake, but simply because he's always liked this design. It shows a miniature depiction of three naked women with snakes entwined in their hair and bat-like wings unfurling from their backs. Blood drips from their eyes and their faces are twisted into harsh, hateful grimaces. They are the Furies, the ultimate punishers of Greek myth. Once summoned, their wrath is terrible and unceasing.
Monsters hunting monsters, Heechul thinks with a grim little smile. Aunt Taemi might be rolling in her grave over what he's doing now, but who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Maybe if the gift is a deadly one. He shifts in his seat at the bar. Checks the clock on the wall. Taps his foot against the stool in impatience.
But, then again, it could be profitable, too. In more ways than one.
Heechul looks up and pockets the lighter when a familiar form slides into the spot beside him. Still Tall, but not as Dark, and a lot less Mysterious after a couple months of correspondence. "Do you always make your dates wait? I think I have grey hairs."
Han Geng casts a skeptical eye to the clock. Five minutes after. "Don't worry," he assures. "You can hardly tell under the dye job."
Heechul gives his head a toss, and the flame-red locks fall back into place.
"Hey," says a new voice, and a skinny guy comes up behind Han Geng, resting a bony elbow on his shoulder. He peers intently at Heechul, who gazes back with a hint of disdain. "So you're Heechul, our helpful hunter."
"And you're cute. Oh, wait, I meant retarded."
Han Geng rolls his eyes and gestures between the two, paying no mind to the sneer and grin each of them are respectively wearing. "Heechul, this is Yoochun. Play nice, you two."
"No, I really mean it," Yoochun persists, walking around to plunk down in the seat on Heechul's other side. "We appreciate your help. With Vince busy, we can actually get stuff accomplished."
Heechul snorts, but accepts the praise. Not like it had taken much - he made one phone call, just enough to set Kangin and Leeteuk on the guy's trail. The last thing he wants is some crazy vamp offing Shiwon with some half-baked plan. It's too difficult to find out about the rest of the Choi family - Shiwon is the most public and therefore the most accessible. Also, the most insufferable. Heechul won't allow anyone else to cut in front of him in this line (he lets his gaze slide over to Han Geng, who is sipping a drink), not even if they had called dibs.
He returns his attention to Yoochun, focus snapping back like a rubber band. "So the game plan is what, exactly?"
"Ah, a delicate process," the vampire says with relish, like he's so glad Heechul asked. "But going smoothly so far. We're waiting for a few more pieces to fall into place. In the meantime, it's the usual: recruiting, training, watching. It'd be nice if your friends could really crack down on Vince and his supply system."
Heechul twitches. So much for the flattery, and it's not his fault if Kangin and Leeteuk are incompetent.
"But," Yoochun continues, "we're looking at possibly obtaining some inside information. Even if that falls through, though, we're still good. A lot of us want Jaejoong - have you met Jaejoong? You should meet Jaejoong - we want him to step up officially. That's when things will really get started."
Heechul finds most of the chatter boring; he isn't here for vampire politics. "What am I going to do while you scurry about? Twiddle my thumbs?"
"You could do some scurrying, too. Have you heard of a hunter named Yunho Jung?"
"Should I have?" This is still far from what Heechul considers relevant or interesting.
"He likes to keep a low profile. No guild affiliation."
"So, what? I get to look for a needle in a haystack? How thrilling."
"He's somewhat unique," Han Geng adds in, leveling with Heechul. "Have you run into any dhampirs before?"
Heechul's eyes narrow in distaste. "Oh, one of those. Miranda keeps one like a pet. Creepy little bastard." Tragically old-fashioned, too, but Heechul doesn't elaborate. If they want more information, they can offer something in return.
"Really?" Yoochun's brows climb. "We'll need to look into that. But about Yunho - if you can find him and get him to meet us, that will speed things along by quite a mark."
Heechul hums as he considers this idea, calculating the benefits in relation to his goal. Faster does sound better. "How do I convince him?"
Yoochun grins a conspirator's grin. "That's the easy part. Just mention Jaejoong's name. It's practically a password. He'll be all conflicted and indecisive at first, but he'll come."
"I see." Interesting, and perhaps risky. I wonder which way his indecision swings? "Do I get anything juicy out of this, or are you going to give me a spiel about patience and gradual rewards?"
"No spiel, but I will say this: Yunho has worked for Shiwon in the past. He's one of our possible insiders. Thought you might like to know."
"I appreciate it," Heechul says with assumed modesty, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. Now that's more like it. He'll be happy to lean on this half-breed, for his own purposes, of course. Getting Shiwon is only step one of his plan. As for step two...
Heechul catches Yoochun looking at him, and the vampire lets out an impressed whistle. "You're a rare sort of hunter, aren't you?"
"I guess I always was a black sheep." You don't know the half of it. Maybe his little obsession with vengeance has driven him to radical lengths like consorting with the enemy, but he never said anything about switching sides. Heechul's smile widens, showing teeth.
"Not a sheep at all," Han Geng corrects, eyeing him. "More like a wolf in sheep's clothing."
That will never not be a lame metaphor, Heechul thinks, and aloud he makes a disparaging remark about sheep in general. But I do plan to be the one laughing in the end.
end
It's been a while (again), hasn't it? Sorry, guys. Thanks for keeping up with us. ♥
We've owed Heechul some more attention for a while, and felt it would be good to get this out in the open before plowing ahead. If you're conflicted over which side to be on, then we've accomplished one of our goals. :D Pretty soon we'll also stop teasing everyone with Han Geng and his Mysterious Past in Relation to Shiwon (there's at least one hint in a previous installment)~
But don't worry, we haven't forgotten the highly-anticipated KyuMin reunion, either. That's next. I may need to breathe into a paper bag in between writing it.
Character(s): Heechul
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 5700
Summary: Tenth installment. Heechul has always been something of a black sheep.
References: Story Archive
Heechul is ten years old - and very proud of the double digits, thank you very much - when he first meets his Aunt Taemi at a family reunion. The woman looks old to Heechul's young eyes, though he learns later on that she's only in her thirties. Her face is lined and grim-looking while she talks in a fierce undertone with Heechul's mother. She isn't dressed for the occasion, sporting jeans that have seen better days and a plain cotton shirt under a worn denim jacket. Dirt clings to her boots and gets crushed into the immaculate carpet (Heechul is half-scandalized and half-thrilled at the very idea of tarnishing the pristine fibers).
He decides to introduce himself to his aunt in a forthright manner, feeling bold indeed as he confronts this stranger, this anomaly, in his home. Taemi has a sharp gaze and her mouth curves into a smile that gives the impression of a cat's clever smirk, to which Heechul grins back in kind. His aunt isn't soft at all, just lean and wiry and smelling of cigarette smoke. The hand she extends for Heechul to shake is rough with calluses on the palm and scars at the base of the thumb, which shows two crescent-shaped indentations.
"What's this from?" Heechul asks, pointedly ignoring his mother's silent - but nearly tangible - disapproval.
"It's a bite from a hunting trip," Taemi answers, still giving that same feline smile. Her voice has a subtle scratchiness to it.
Heechul rubs the pad of his finger over the marks buried in tough flesh, imagination taking flight. He thinks of curved teeth and powerful jaws. Wolves, maybe. Or a large cat (spotted leopards and striped tigers, sleek and sable panthers). "What were you hunting?"
"Monsters."
It's at this point that Heechul snorts and drops his hand. The awe is gone, replaced instantly by the pragmatic mind of a precocious ten-year-old who is Old Enough to Know Better. Taemi laughs, but Heechul doesn't know what's so funny.
* * * * *
He doesn't think about monsters again until he's fourteen, getting home way past curfew with the sharp scent of blood still thick in his nose and the image of gleaming white teeth imprinted in his mind. His wrist throbs where Sharon had grasped it tightly, her fingernails biting into his skin; his own hand had been clamped over her mouth while he bit his lower lip as they'd watched, scarcely daring to breathe, while Sharon's new boyfriend tore savagely into the throat of a girl at the park.
For the first time in his life, Heechul had been utterly speechless.
"I think you should start seeing someone else," he managed to say once they made it back to Sharon's house. "Because I don't hang around people who date psychopaths."
"I think I should call the fucking police," she hissed, pale and shaking, and he stayed with her while she did just that. Her recounting of the event faltered at the 'and then he opened wide and chowed down' part, but Heechul didn't blame her.
He recalls the sudden snap of bone and the girl's dangling head being cradled in a parody of gentleness, the wet sucking sound that followed and the spill of blood shining under musty yellow lamplight in the park.
Heechul staggers into the bathroom and falls to his knees in front of the toilet, insides churning as the memory replays. It's crazy, that's what it is, like Hollywood horror coming out of the screen and into his life.
Of course, his mother chooses that moment to appear at the doorway, mouth agape in shock. "Where have you been? Are you- You're not drunk, are you?"
"If only," he groans out, flushing the toilet with one hand and gripping the sink with the other as he pulls himself up. Turning on the faucet helps override the 'Do you know what time it is, young man?' lecture. He rinses the sourness from his mouth and splashes cold water on his face, trying not to think about (the monster) Sharon's psycho ex-boyfriend splattering blood onto the grass beneath the tree. It will have soaked into dirt and roots by morning.
"...and this is what happens when you associate with the wrong crowd!"
Heechul registers the end of the tirade while he wipes his face dry with a towel, fingers clenching in the plush cloth. "Okay, I got it. I'll be sure not to mingle with any druggies or pedos or cannibal murderers with big, sharp, pointy teeth." He all but flings the towel back onto the rack, and then he then catches sight of his mother's expression reflected in the mirror.
Her mouth opens to form an 'o' of shock and affront, fair skin blanching to a papery white. Her voice trembles when she speaks. "You've been talking to your aunt, haven't you? Since when? Oh, what is she thinking-" Heechul wisely keeps silent as she whirls away, robe fluttering behind her like a persistent ghost.
What does Aunt Taemi have to do with anything? He treads after her as she goes to the phone, but she glares at him and orders him to his room before she even dials. Even leaving the door open a crack, he can't hear anything beyond a hushed muttering of one-sided conversation.
Time passes, and he takes to watching the minutes go by on his digital clock, numbers shifting in bright red angles and lines. He turns the lights off and waits until he sees the shadow of his mother pass, hears her door close. Heechul counts off another ten minutes with agonizing precision before slipping out and stalking down the dark hallway, light as a cat.
He reaches the phone and holds it to his ear, pressing down firmly on the 'redial' button.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end has that unmistakable slight rasp he remembers.
"Hello, Aunt Taemi," Heechul greets.
"Heechul." There's a pause and slight crackle of exhaling breath. Is she smoking at this hour? "What can I do for you?" she asks straightaway, business-like and knowing. He breathes deeply, then relaxes his white-knuckled grip on the phone and folds his gangly teenage body into a nearby chair.
Can't go back now.
"Tell me about monsters."
* * * * *
He's at the park again, staring down at the struggling body of the vampire. It's nighttime, but he can still see the creature's face twisted into a snarling, bloody mess, long canines bared while black, glittering eyes glare hatefully at him. Taemi stands behind the hunched form, pulling both arms back by the wrists and planting a foot on top of its spine. Heechul braces himself. She gives one solid wrench that produces a sickening crack from each side of its body, and drops the howling thing facedown in the grass. It tries to bite at her ankle when she steps too close, but the hunter nimbly avoids the rake of fangs. She faces Heechul.
"Still think you can stomach this?"
"Just kill it already," he says, sounding bored, already learning to tune out the agonized, animalistic noises coming from the creature. "I have homework to finish, and you'd better explain to my mom why I'm late."
"Deal." Taemi removes a semiautomatic pistol from her holster and checks the magazine. Then she holds the gun by the barrel and extends it to him. "You do it."
Heechul reaches out, thinking, It's going to be heavy, and it is; the gun is a cold and unfamiliar weight in both of his hands. Off to the side, Taemi calmly explains how to stand (front stance, evenly balanced, he's not in a fucking T.V. show here) and grip the weapon (tight as he can, don't shake - he is absolutely still). He doesn't need to be told where to aim: Heechul lines up his shot, squeezes the trigger, and puts a bullet deep into the monster's brain.
He staggers from the recoil-
He strikes his elbow against the wall next to his bed.
Heechul rolls on his side and curls in on his arm, hissing at the jarring pain. He rubs at his eyes with his other hand and blinks into the darkness of his room, wondering what could have woken him up. A trilling noise - his cell phone - piercing through the constant drone of the A/C is the most likely perpetrator.
"Shit," he murmurs, making a grab for the thing and picking up. "Who the fuck is this?" His sole intention is to find out who has the gall to call him after he just got back from a seven-hour drive, tell them exactly what they can do with themselves, and hang up.
"That's no way to greet someone you haven't spoken to in three weeks!" accuses the female voice on the line. "Why didn't you call when you got back? Jerk."
Heechul groans and rubs a hand over his face. "Sharon. Sweetheart. You may have a couple years on me, but you're nowhere near old enough to be my mother."
"Good thing, too. Who wants you for a son? But anyway, I'm on campus with a few friends. Since you and Jay are back, you should come have a few drinks with us."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he drawls. "I have my beauty sleep to consider."
"Oh, come on! I didn't see you all summer, and now I'm in school again. Who knows when you'll need to leave for your next trip?"
"You have got to be kidding me. I have spent the better part of my day on the most mind-numbing stretch of dusty, never-ending turnpike in the world - not even the apocalypse could get me out of bed right now."
"Well-"
"And before that, Jay and I were playing the 'gee, I really don't know how that body ended up there, officer' game because of the gaggle-fuck afterwards."
"All right, then-"
"The bloodsucker led us on a chase across the entire fuckin' state, I swear. Do you know what the weather's been like out there? I thought I'd melt, it was so wretchedly hot."
There's a muffled sound on the other end and Sharon's voice, slightly distorted and laughing, saying, "No, it's okay, he's always like this."
Someone else chimes in - lower register, definitely male. "Who cares, he sounds like an asshole anyway."
"Hey," Heechul takes offense and cuts in, sitting up in bed and raking his fingers through his short hair in irritation. He looks scruffier than he likes, but long hunting trips don't lend themselves to clean, sleek styles. "Hey, Sharon, tell that bastard to mind his own business. What kind of poor company are you keeping?"
There's some more mumbling and a peal of laughter in the background ("What's so funny, Jungsu?" "Damn, is he drunk already?") before she responds, and she doesn't answer his question. "Listen, I think I'm free tomorrow evening, so maybe we can catch up- Whoa- Hey, easy on the freshie! Heechul, I'll see you later then?"
Oh, I don't think so. Heechul throws the sheets off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be there in twenty. Any party of yours is hopeless without me."
"Great! I'll introduce you to everyone. I've already been telling them about you - nothing but good things, I promise."
"Sharon Kwon," he says with a sigh and a little eye-roll. "You are such a liar."
* * * * *
The kitchen is warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the flurries and three inches of accumulated snow outside. Heechul shivers reflexively at the memory of Kangin (that infantile bully) dumping snow down his back just a few hours ago, and he smoothes his fingers over the sweater Leeteuk let him borrow.
Aside from Heechul and Jay, the kitchen is deserted, though other voices of friends and family can be heard around the corner. It's private enough for now, but Heechul takes care to speak in an undertone. If some of the others heard them talking shop during the holidays, well, it would just be a nuisance to deal with. What they don't know can't hurt them.
"Rumor has it that a certain distinguished family has been seen in Chicago," Heechul begins lightly with his gaze wandering over the countertop. A plate of sugar cookies catches his eye and he deftly swipes one, biting into it. Sharon had baked up a storm for the occasion - all four of the hunters home for Christmas.
"And what sort of disreputable source did you hear that from?" Jay wants to know, head bent over the counter to converse more confidentially.
"You're questioning the legitimacy of my sources?" Heechul asks in disbelief. "Who was it that started us on that wild goose chase in Atlanta? We spent weeks there, and all I got was sunburned. I looked terrible." He turns his nose up while popping the remaining bit of cookie into his mouth.
"Call it the voice of experience, then," Jay admits sourly. Heechul chews, swallows, and relents, patting him on the cheek.
"Well, I got wind of this straight from the higher-ups."
Jay's doubt returns in full-force. "They want us to go after the Choi family?"
"Don't make me hit the stupid out of you. It's not an official mission, but it's right there, ripe for the picking if you ask me."
"Sounds more like a warning to stay away."
"What next?" Heechul sneers. "Do we need to start wearing water wings before we get in the pool? So the Chois been around the block, so what? They die just as easily as the rest. Last I checked, hunting wasn't for the faint of heart to begin with."
"My friend, you are certifiably insane." But Jay cracks a smile as he says it. "Wouldn't it be glorious if we managed it, though? There has to be some decrepit old man on the Council from that lineage."
"Our biggest worry would probably be keeping that one alive long enough to question. The Council is supposed to be, what, all the old-fashioned, paranoid ancestors?"
"The Council was formed before the guilds, so there's not much recorded about its history. The families themselves are even older. Didn't you learn this already?"
"Oh, who cares, anyway?" Heechul brushes off the teasing. "Book learning doesn't amount to anything when you're facing a creature full of bloodlust and a huge pair of teeth." He grabs another cookie and motions to the rest of the plate. "Try one, or are you afraid of ruining your girlish figure?"
"My girlish figure. Right." Jay reaches out to sample one when suddenly they hear a commotion from the living room. A child's cry rises up over the rest of the noise.
Sharon peers around the corner, looking rather harried. Her eyes light upon Heechul. "Bring some paper towels out here, would you?"
* * * * *
The first thing Heechul does when he gets back to his cheap hotel room (after nervously jamming the cheap key into the cheap lock and shoving open the cheap fucking door) is kick the paint-peeling wall and overturn the wobbly table. Then he tries his cell phone - or he would, if he had the blasted thing on him. It's not in any of his pockets, but who would he even call? Miranda wouldn't want to hear about this. Miranda isn't supposed to hear about this; they'd already told him to back the fuck off on the Choi family after what happened with Jay, but he'd ignored those orders and tracked Shiwon down anyway. Heechul needs to do this, despite (no, because of) the casualties, and it would have been fine. It would have been fine if not for that one mistake, just an accident-
"I told him to get the hell out of there," Heechul snarls, kicking the wall again for good measure. Someone in the next room swears at him. "Fuck you!" he screams back.
He stands there and breathes heavily for a while, body strung impossibly tight, heart pounding, and with bruises starting to purple his skin. There's blood on his clothes - Shiwon's blood, and not enough of it to make him feel satisfied. There had been more blood on the rooftop, pooling rapidly even as he rushed away from the scene. He hadn't checked on the kid, but maybe he should have, shit, he'd just left him there with a goddamn vampire...
What was I going to do? he asks himself, peeling off his blood-stained coat and yanking open the door to the small bathroom. He clicks the light on and runs the faucet, shoving his hands under icy, sputtering water. Wait around until the police found me with the gun practically still smoking in my hands? Or until Shiwon tore my throat out? So I fucked up.
Twice. He's done it twice, including Jay.
Heechul cups his palms together and splashes water on his face, then pushes back his loose hair. Kangin had scoffed when he started letting it grow longer, "Like you weren't already girly enough." He remembers sneering back with a scathing remark about Kangin's ugly mug while Leeteuk smiled (complacently or with a hint of teasing?) and said that it suited him. Sharon had lamented that he was prettier than she was...
He grips the edges of the sink and watches his reflection's lip curl. A bead of water slides down his cheek to his chin. His eyes are wild and his expression raw, and the sound of a gunshot still rings in his ears.
"Everyone fucks up sometime," he says with conviction, and tries not to do something fantastically stupid like punch the mirror. Kangin would, and Heechul is so much more civilized than that. He's smoother than Leeteuk, and he's prettier than Sharon - Sharon, his childhood friend who first dated a vampire that almost killed her, then married a hunter and killed herself. Leeteuk isn't that smooth anymore - Heechul has hardly heard him say a word since then, and doesn't expect to hear much anytime soon. Kangin is still a violent brute - a comforting fact in its own way, and Heechul settles for slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.
* * * * *
He moves to another town quickly after that. God, he isn't that stupid. Heechul gets a new cell phone and a new number, but doesn't call anyone important. Common sense tells him to lay low and he does, but he keeps his eyes and ears open all the same. After a while, he can't help but stray into certain pubs, asking around. It's no wonder that Miranda catches up to him so fast.
"You have an obsession," Mithra informs him by way of greeting one day, sliding into the booth across from Heechul. They're located in a little dive called, morbidly enough, The Gallows.
"I don't see why everyone gets their panties in a twist over it," Heechul returns sharply as he thumbs through a notepad filled with information, old and new, concerning the Choi family. "I'm hunting, remember, it's in the job description. 'Obsession' is such an ugly word to use between friends. Honestly, I'm hurt. How are you? Still alive, I see, which is more than I knew five minutes ago."
"I'm good," is Mithra's reply. He continues, steady and unhurried, "We're not going to stop you, you know."
"How considerate, Miranda is finally quitting with the baby treatment. Do I get to ride the big kid rides next?" Heechul flips a page and crosses out a few lines, scribbling in an additional note.
"We're not going to help you anymore, either."
Heechul keeps writing. His pen doesn't waver and he doesn't blink, but his lips press together into a thin line. "I certainly didn't see that one coming," he says sarcastically, scrawling down another note in shorthand, his handwriting messier than before. "It's not like the guild is that helpful - all they do is tie themselves up with their red tape, and sometimes shit happens. I'm not exactly sorry. You can tell them that: I'm not sorry, but they might be after I exterminate these monsters. Do I need to spell it out? Draw a map? You know the Choi family is like a golden ticket to the Council. Wouldn't that just suck for the guilds, with all their resources, to be beaten out by an independent?"
A grin tips Mithra's lips as he eases back in his seat. "If anybody could do it, it'd be you."
"Why else would I subject myself to this kind of pencil-pushing torture - for brownie points? Miranda is as dead to me as I am to them. I don't need their restrictions to finish what Jay and I started, and I am going to finish that whole rotten lineage. Especially Shiwon. His face alone is cancer to my soul."
"I think you ran into him on one of his good days, actually."
Again, Heechul isn't very surprised. Of course Miranda knows all about that miserable escapade. It's been a few weeks. Heechul sighs and slaps his pen down on top of the paper. He meets Mithra's eyes evenly. "I fucked up, didn't I? Really fucked up."
"You're not the first."
"Oh, well, there goes my hope for unparalleled notoriety-"
"Fine: you fucked up. You always were shit at following orders, but this time you killed a human on a mission you were explicitly told not to pursue, and because of it you're getting dishonorable discharge from the guild. You can't work in a group and you have that personality that people hate. You're kind of an ass. You also have terrible taste in clothes."
Heechul grabs his mostly-full glass and motions threateningly with it, as if to pour its contents on his friend. "Who has terrible taste?" he demands, but Mithra only deadpans at him. Heechul sets the drink back down with a thump, composed again as if nothing had happened. "You're like a frigging rock, as always. Thank you - it's not normal without someone lecturing me on my misbehavior."
"It's terrifying," Mithra admits, "to think of you running amok under no one's authority but your own."
"Freedom at last," Heechul declares with relish, making a toast with his drink. His face pulls in a grimace after a sip. "Freedom tastes like dishwater. Hasn't anyone here ever heard of standards? God, what a dump."
* * * * *
"Well, fuck me."
Heechul keeps his voice low, but the sound still echoes faintly in the empty parking garage over a constant drip of water. The place is abandoned and partly crumbling on one end, revealing a smoggy sunset, but there's evidence of people using the space on a semi-regular basis. The remains of a fire, empty bottles and cans, folding chairs, and overturned crates... From kids, most likely, fucking themselves up with drugs and alcohol, or the homeless seeking whatever shelter they can get. Whoever comes here next will be in for a surprise when they drop by, unless Heechul can find a way to get rid of the two bodies. That's another thing Miranda was useful for: clean-up. The last thing he needs is a trail of suspicious corpses and even more suspicious cops following him across the country.
He crosses his arms and scowls down at the troublesome pair as he figures out his options. Fire could work, but he only has one lighter and it's out of fuel. His car is too far away, though he could go get it and hope no one stumbles upon the scene while he's gone. He sure as hell isn't going to carry the two bodies out of here.
"Shit," he hisses, narrowing his eyes. If he'd known that it would be this much of a pain afterwards, he wouldn't have bothered. He failed to save the human, anyway, as evidenced by the gaping wound at the man's throat. Shooting, stabbing, bludgeoning - all typical forms of violence and horrible in their own ways, but normal when you get down to it. Bite wounds wouldn't be too bizarre except it would be pretty clear to any professional that the shape of the jaw isn't a dog's. As for the vampire, a woman more resembling a hooker, she has a scattering of bullets in her torso.
"Need some help with that?"
Heechul spins, arm snapping up with his pistol in hand. The rush brings a grin to his face, though inside he's screaming at himself: How could you allow yourself to get caught?! He hadn't sensed a thing.
"Depends. What sort of help did you have in mind?"
The stranger, possibly feeling magnanimous, steps away from a concrete column and into the open. He's tall and lanky - no, more graceful than that, casually poised, letting his hands dangle at his sides instead of holding them up to placate. There's no alarm evident in his expression or posture, nor tenseness, though he's in the direct line of fire. Whereas the newcomer is relaxed, Heechul feels coiled like a spring, but his finger is steady on the trigger. At this distance, he could easily put a bullet in the other guy's skull.
The man inclines his head meaningfully toward the bodies, keeping his eyes (fearless or indifferent, or maybe it's the same thing) on Heechul. "Getting rid of that."
"Yeah, because that's not a weird offer at all. Does it come with an explanation?" In the man's following hesitation, Heechul hears a trace of uncertainty. "Tick tock, baby, I don't have all night."
"You've been asking about Shiwon. About his friends, his enemies, his city." There's something new in his tone - amusement? - and a bit of an accent Heechul hadn't noticed before.
The City, though... That was one of the easiest nuggets of information to find in relation to Shiwon. Heechul had gone there, but the place itself wasn't that helpful. Shiwon hadn't been in town, and there wasn't much new info to be gained.
"Uh-huh. So what about you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious?" Heechul tilts his head, an easy-going smirk on his lips. "Friend or enemy?"
"Both, to you," he says, and he might as well get points for honesty. "What do you think of a mutually beneficial arrangement? I can tell you about Shiwon's enemies."
An interesting proposition, to be sure, and something that would require a lot of thought, possibly some background digging.
But hunting isn't a cautious job, no matter what the guilds stand for. Procedure counts for nothing when it comes to the chase and the instinct. Heechul shrugs and says the first thing that comes to mind.
"Sounds fun." He lowers his gun and motions the other over. "So about clean-up..."
Heechul is watching carefully as the stranger approaches his side, so he catches the focus of the other man's gaze and the slight movement of his throat. There is an awful lot of blood, but the subtle response isn't one of fear of disgust. Suspicion spreads like a stain. Heechul grabs a fistful of the guy's coat to yank him down, then he pushes the muzzle of his gun under his chin.
"Let's try this again," he begins nonchalantly. "What is this about, vampire?"
There's no denial, no fear or surprise, which is annoying. Mild discomfort from the forced angle of his head is the only thing that can be read in his eyes.
"I figure it's about getting rid of Shiwon."
* * * * *
Click... Click... Click...
Heechul opens and closes the lid of Taemi's old Zippo lighter. He doesn't smoke, so it's of no practical use to him, but it's the only thing of hers that he possesses (unless he counts everything she taught him, then it's only a drop in the bucket).
He swipes his thumb over the faded image painted on the metal side. He wouldn't consider himself the sentimental type; the reason he keeps the lighter isn't for his mentor's sake, but simply because he's always liked this design. It shows a miniature depiction of three naked women with snakes entwined in their hair and bat-like wings unfurling from their backs. Blood drips from their eyes and their faces are twisted into harsh, hateful grimaces. They are the Furies, the ultimate punishers of Greek myth. Once summoned, their wrath is terrible and unceasing.
Monsters hunting monsters, Heechul thinks with a grim little smile. Aunt Taemi might be rolling in her grave over what he's doing now, but who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Maybe if the gift is a deadly one. He shifts in his seat at the bar. Checks the clock on the wall. Taps his foot against the stool in impatience.
But, then again, it could be profitable, too. In more ways than one.
Heechul looks up and pockets the lighter when a familiar form slides into the spot beside him. Still Tall, but not as Dark, and a lot less Mysterious after a couple months of correspondence. "Do you always make your dates wait? I think I have grey hairs."
Han Geng casts a skeptical eye to the clock. Five minutes after. "Don't worry," he assures. "You can hardly tell under the dye job."
Heechul gives his head a toss, and the flame-red locks fall back into place.
"Hey," says a new voice, and a skinny guy comes up behind Han Geng, resting a bony elbow on his shoulder. He peers intently at Heechul, who gazes back with a hint of disdain. "So you're Heechul, our helpful hunter."
"And you're cute. Oh, wait, I meant retarded."
Han Geng rolls his eyes and gestures between the two, paying no mind to the sneer and grin each of them are respectively wearing. "Heechul, this is Yoochun. Play nice, you two."
"No, I really mean it," Yoochun persists, walking around to plunk down in the seat on Heechul's other side. "We appreciate your help. With Vince busy, we can actually get stuff accomplished."
Heechul snorts, but accepts the praise. Not like it had taken much - he made one phone call, just enough to set Kangin and Leeteuk on the guy's trail. The last thing he wants is some crazy vamp offing Shiwon with some half-baked plan. It's too difficult to find out about the rest of the Choi family - Shiwon is the most public and therefore the most accessible. Also, the most insufferable. Heechul won't allow anyone else to cut in front of him in this line (he lets his gaze slide over to Han Geng, who is sipping a drink), not even if they had called dibs.
He returns his attention to Yoochun, focus snapping back like a rubber band. "So the game plan is what, exactly?"
"Ah, a delicate process," the vampire says with relish, like he's so glad Heechul asked. "But going smoothly so far. We're waiting for a few more pieces to fall into place. In the meantime, it's the usual: recruiting, training, watching. It'd be nice if your friends could really crack down on Vince and his supply system."
Heechul twitches. So much for the flattery, and it's not his fault if Kangin and Leeteuk are incompetent.
"But," Yoochun continues, "we're looking at possibly obtaining some inside information. Even if that falls through, though, we're still good. A lot of us want Jaejoong - have you met Jaejoong? You should meet Jaejoong - we want him to step up officially. That's when things will really get started."
Heechul finds most of the chatter boring; he isn't here for vampire politics. "What am I going to do while you scurry about? Twiddle my thumbs?"
"You could do some scurrying, too. Have you heard of a hunter named Yunho Jung?"
"Should I have?" This is still far from what Heechul considers relevant or interesting.
"He likes to keep a low profile. No guild affiliation."
"So, what? I get to look for a needle in a haystack? How thrilling."
"He's somewhat unique," Han Geng adds in, leveling with Heechul. "Have you run into any dhampirs before?"
Heechul's eyes narrow in distaste. "Oh, one of those. Miranda keeps one like a pet. Creepy little bastard." Tragically old-fashioned, too, but Heechul doesn't elaborate. If they want more information, they can offer something in return.
"Really?" Yoochun's brows climb. "We'll need to look into that. But about Yunho - if you can find him and get him to meet us, that will speed things along by quite a mark."
Heechul hums as he considers this idea, calculating the benefits in relation to his goal. Faster does sound better. "How do I convince him?"
Yoochun grins a conspirator's grin. "That's the easy part. Just mention Jaejoong's name. It's practically a password. He'll be all conflicted and indecisive at first, but he'll come."
"I see." Interesting, and perhaps risky. I wonder which way his indecision swings? "Do I get anything juicy out of this, or are you going to give me a spiel about patience and gradual rewards?"
"No spiel, but I will say this: Yunho has worked for Shiwon in the past. He's one of our possible insiders. Thought you might like to know."
"I appreciate it," Heechul says with assumed modesty, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. Now that's more like it. He'll be happy to lean on this half-breed, for his own purposes, of course. Getting Shiwon is only step one of his plan. As for step two...
Heechul catches Yoochun looking at him, and the vampire lets out an impressed whistle. "You're a rare sort of hunter, aren't you?"
"I guess I always was a black sheep." You don't know the half of it. Maybe his little obsession with vengeance has driven him to radical lengths like consorting with the enemy, but he never said anything about switching sides. Heechul's smile widens, showing teeth.
"Not a sheep at all," Han Geng corrects, eyeing him. "More like a wolf in sheep's clothing."
That will never not be a lame metaphor, Heechul thinks, and aloud he makes a disparaging remark about sheep in general. But I do plan to be the one laughing in the end.
end
It's been a while (again), hasn't it? Sorry, guys. Thanks for keeping up with us. ♥
We've owed Heechul some more attention for a while, and felt it would be good to get this out in the open before plowing ahead. If you're conflicted over which side to be on, then we've accomplished one of our goals. :D Pretty soon we'll also stop teasing everyone with Han Geng and his Mysterious Past in Relation to Shiwon (there's at least one hint in a previous installment)~
But don't worry, we haven't forgotten the highly-anticipated KyuMin reunion, either. That's next. I may need to breathe into a paper bag in between writing it.