Switchblade - Prologue
Masterlist | Notes | Prologue | 1
Many of the city's streets were deserted due to the heavy snow storm. The white flakes appeared especially bright against the black night sky. It looked almost as cold as it actually was. Taemin was violently shaking, his voice a nearly incoherent gasp as he begged, "God, Onew, don't let him die.."
He was babbling on and didn't even understand his own words any more. Only a few feet away from him, Minho laid on the ground, bleeding red into the snow underneath him. He looked horrifyingly pale. Taemin had seen enough dead bodies now to know when someone was close to death. "Don't let him die.." he said it quietly, as Onew walked towards Minho.
It happened way too fast, but seemed agonizingly slow at the same time. Jonghyun was there, warning Onew. If Taemin wasn't frozen where he was, he might have made a move against the vampire. It was enough that Jonghyun tortured him in the past, but right now, he was trying to stop Onew from saving Minho. Saving Minho was all that mattered.
"He'll be alive," Onew said, his wrist bleeding over Minho's mouth. "He'll be alive, he'll be alive.."
Taemin's heart was raised with hope until Jonghyun spoke, cursing at Onew. "He'll be a fucking vampire," Jonghyun said, and Taemin's heart fell. He knew already that if Minho became a vampire, he'd have no memory of his human life. In fact, as a vampire, if he was reminded of his human life it would only cause him pain. Minho would be alive, but never the same.
Taemin covered his mouth, as if any sound might come from it now anyway. He could barely breathe. As cold as he was, his heart was having trouble keeping up with his emotion. No. Taemin didn't want Minho to be a vampire. Minho just needed to be alive. A human, and alive...
Onew lowered his head to Minho's chest and pleaded to hear the sound of his heartbeat again. Denial made the moment surreal. Taemin very simply wouldn't believe what was happening. Minho was his best friend. Minho couldn't be dead.
Switchblade
No matter how often you sharpen a blade, it becomes old and tarnished. Especially when you frequently use it to slice vampire skin. Taemin's switchblade is made of silver, making it a deadly weapon for vampires. It used to shine, but now the metal looks foggy, and the blade is so dull that...
"You think you're gonna cut me with that thing?" The vampire leans back against the building, right where Taemin wanted him - right where Taemin put him. However, it doesn't matter that Taemin is one of very few humans that can force a vampire into a compromising position on his own. This vampire looks more amused than afraid, smirking up at Taemin while waiting for an answer. They never learn...
Taemin pushes the dull blade hard into the smooth skin of the vampire's neck, threatening. "You wouldn't be the first." he says it with a smirk of his own, and his eyes are sharp and glaring at the so-called immortal. "Tell me what I want to know."
It takes that pressure to get the vampire showing even a glimpse of nerves. He scowls at Taemin and finally admits, "I haven't seen Jonghyun. Not in months."
"That puts you ahead of me by months," Taemin responds with a steady tone. "Get specific before I get hungry." It's a threat that always seems to work. There's probably not a vampire in Seoul who doesn't know what Taemin's been up to. A human drinking vampire blood is about the most scandalous thing that can happen, apparently. In fact, Taemin quite likes the horrific figure he's become to the undead. He's special. He's different. Besides, it's useful. Especially in this type of scenario, when just a few little words can have a vampire spilling.
"He came to me directly. Asked where he could find Lee Joon."
Taemin slumps a bit, alarmed to receive information of potential use. It had been a little more than a year since he'd seen Jonghyun himself, disappearing into the night with Minho's body in his arms. After that, Taemin was on the hunt, but it was rare he got a trace of anything real.
His heart leaps in his chest. It's a moment of vulnerability, and the pinned vampire notices. Before he can form his next question, the vampire knocks him backwards. Taemin is still gathering himself when the vampire takes off running. With a grunt, Taemin takes off after him, but comes to a sudden halt after a breath of cold air that hits the back of his throat like a knife.
He stumbles back and coughs. The cold shouldn't effect him so much. After drinking vampire blood, he should be a part of the cold, but again, he coughs. It's irrelevant. There's something much more important to worry about. Taemin wipes a hand over his mouth, not thinking anything of the blood that transfers to his glove, and he runs again.
It's too late. He spends several frustrating hours more looking to find the vampire again, but the end of the night draws near and before long he feels weak, and cold, and tired.
Lee Joon. Maybe the name alone is enough.
The place that Taemin calls home now isn't even a house. You do what you can when you can hardly even afford to eat. (To eat actual food, anyway.) It's a warehouse just somewhat outside of the city, emptied apart from what he keeps there himself. Actually, it isn't quite a whole warehouse. The building is charred where a fire once ran through it. If it weren't made of thick stone, now blackened with ash, it would surely no longer exist.
Where the front used to have a giant garage type door there's now just wide open space that does anything but keep out the cold. Taemin uses the back rooms, and though it's still cold, it at the very least is insulated.
He steps into what was likely once an office. The door is one that he stole himself, and it's a good door, heavy and lockable. He pulls it close, dragging it squealing across a cement floor, then he locks it as usual. The room isn't big, not that he needs much space. On the floor, there's two heavy blankets, and in the corner there's a cabinet atop which sits a heavy pile of newspaper clippings and notebooks, some of which have spilled down to the floor, not that Taemin minds. It's not exactly a nice enough place to keep clean.
Without unzipping his thin coat, Taemin hurriedly sits down in front of the cabinet and jerks it open. Inside, there's a bottle. It's nearly half full with vampire blood, and he picks it up quickly, taking just a sip - and then another - and then one extra. An energy floods through him, warming him up and relaxing him just as much as it's waking him up. He knows he shouldn't drink so much, he knows he shouldn't waste it. Sometimes it's hard to help.
He returns the bottle to his cabinet, certain he'll need to refill it soon. Without vampire blood, he would have been dead long ago, and he would surely stand no chance against the dozens of vampires he's now faced. If he isn't looking for them, they're looking for him - just about the one and only who appears to have gotten away. Still, if they were putting a little more effort into finding him, they might have him by now. It seems vampires in general lately - Taemin glances toward the stack of newspapers, all filled with speculation and concern towards the unknown.
When Taemin learned about vampires, he was in a small percent of humans who knew anything. Now, vampires are common knowledge. In fact, humans think that they're at war with vampires - and they're wrong. Vampires are at war with each other, and humans are just feebly fighting against the inevitable, more likely.
It's depressing and it's scary. Taemin sits himself down on a blanket, pulling his knees up to his chest. He isn't so cold now that he's had blood, but he's certainly empty. Alone, more than anything else. Vampires have taken everything from him, everything but, he thinks perhaps, Minho. He's not sure exactly what he might do once he finds Minho, although he's sure he has nothing else left.
After a moment of rest, Taemin stands and goes to a tiny bag in the corner that carries all of his essentials, things he grabbed while they were still available to him. Before everything changed...
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