Chapter Text
The world always seemed brighter from up here.
Vast rooftops and urban sights stretched as far as the eye could see, its sheer immensity enough to make anyone’s head spin painfully. The buildings were dizzily high, reaching out toward the sky now perpetually adorned with that darkened, murky color that obscured the deadly sun and shielded them, allowing them to roam free without a care. The entire modern city was bathed in red neon, their glow eerie and gloomy- fitting, in a way. Even up high, in this privileged zone, chaos ran rampant and crimes were benign- though perhaps this was even more true for the filth residing down there.
It was pitiful, really. They all cowered before them, hiding in their glorified sewers like some common rats, crawling and reproducing incessantly as they refused to go extinct. It was futile to try and resist, as they were all property. Something to be acquired, possessed and disposed of. Was that too hard to ingrain in their underdeveloped minds? Too complex for their ridiculously low intellect? Humans were, fundamentally, creatures of instincts. They did hold a consciousness (it was hard to refute that), but their reason would always get overpowered by an animalistic and base feeling that would make them revert to something more primitive.
Fear, hunger, greed, sadness… all compounds of their inferiority. Humans were unable to get rid of these despicable feelings, this empathy they advocated and claimed was their strength was, paradoxically, their biggest weakness. Unable to bypass the emotions that would weight down their beating hearts and rewrite their minds, they were rendered a slave to them- utterly powerless and defective. Sentimentality was what held them back as a species, and the reason why humankind would never rise above the soiled depths they had been shunned into; only ever useful when pure of blood and ready for consumption. But there was one feeling, one that was surely the most dreadful of them all…
Love.
How sickening.
Shadow Milk’s fingers drummed over the armrest, restless and most of all- “I’m bored.”
His voice reverberated around the empty room, its sheer size completely disproportionate in his opinion. It was tacky and a petty demonstration of opulence and prestige, one that his inhuman- hm. He didn’t want to say comrades nor anything that sounded too positive as he hated their guts, but… acquaintances. That he tolerated- at most. He wasn’t a saint, and his patience had its very defined limits.
Shadow Milk was someone who was prone to boredom. When one had lived for as long as he had (still infuriatingly low in his species’ standards), they tended to hardly be surprised or entertained by anything as they had had the occasion to see everything. There wasn’t much to do out of the city’s confines, the large and imposing walls encircling it protecting them from terrifyingly empty and arid wastelands that he had very little interest in visiting. So, he was bored. And hungry, too- he licked his lips, grabbing a nondescript coat laying around and wasting no time in leaving the lavish building.
See, vampires were not barbaric creatures. Ruthless? Surely. Cruel? Certainly. Bloodthirsty? In the most literal of ways. Still, grand and gory profusions of blood weren’t really their cup of tea (it was crass, they said, and they were all pompous idiots), and so a much cleaner way to collect blood and provide for them had been invented, taking advantage of the humans’ desperation to use them more efficiently. Ha. All you had to do was dangle basic necessities in their faces, and they would all throw themselves at you without any hesitation, arms extended and necks presented docilely. They really had no shame- no better than the cattle they slaughtered to eat.
Finding blood wasn’t hard; the blood banks were filled to the brim with it, and one had to be completely daft to let themselves starve- or suicidal, but to each their own. He wouldn’t judge, no. Shadow Milk wasn’t like that, of course not. The real issue here was the quality.
Shadow Milk walked through the busy, paved streets, grimacing when he saw how dense the crowd was. Humans had been efficiently categorized according to (as stupid as that sounded) their tastiness. Well, their blood types, really, but Shadow Milk preferred to use the childish term ‘tastiness’, as they were after all goods to be consumed. It was also funnier, and grated on everyone’s nerves whenever he used it to discredit his peers. They were all sick of his theatrics, but he was a performer before everything else, and he would be damned if he ever failed to fulfill his role.
Where was he again…? He rudely pushed someone who had been standing in his way, making them violently crash to the ground. He paid no mind to their offended hiss, barreling forward without a care while humming a little tune under his breath. Right, the classification and all that. Humans were plentiful in the lower part of the city, where they had established their wide and precarious settlement, but finding the higher quality ones was a chore in itself. They had tried to make an inventory of them, but the infuriating vermin never ceased to copulate and were too many to be properly accounted for.
The blood types O were the rarest among humans- a pleasant oddity that was very coveted by the high vampire sphere. Their life spans were ridiculously low, because once found out, very few had any hopes of ending up as something else than a refined meal by the end of the week. It was every vampires’ dream to be able to, once in their immortal life, have a taste of this heavenly savor that everyone described as immaculate and pure, one of the reasons these so sought after types O were commonly called the Pures. Shadow Milk wasn’t deluded. He knew that it would forever stay a dream- but he liked to indulge in his fantasies from time to time.
He stepped inside the passage point to the Sewers (Shadow Milk called them that, because no way these disgusting farces of habitations could be called anything else), the security and line thankfully very light. Vampires didn’t travel down often, but Shadow Milk was an oddity in everything anyway- too extravagant for his own good. He liked to fetch his meal while still alive; seek the thrill of the hunt, and watch as he cruelly reduced their chances of survival to none. The pest would miserably squirm and plead, but Shadow Milk was merciless and so his fangs wouldn’t hesitate to sink inside its brittle neck, his hands firmly keeping the lowly one immobile while he-
“Going down?” He rapidly blinked as he was addressed, the customs officer handing him back his papers. He grinned, taking them and pocketing them.
“How perspicacious.” He didn’t wait for the man’s answer, going down the spiraling staircases (he loved them, and any architecture that twisted and was elaborate in general) to board onto the giant and sturdy elevator. It wasn’t long before he reached it, again, rather devoid of anyone else. He absently tugged down his sleeves, stepping inside and taking a seat. His stomach rumbled. Ugh. He always procrastinated feeding until his hunger was starting to make itself known in the most unpleasant of ways, torturing his stomach. Whatever. He would get to eat soon anyway.
The engine rumbled deafeningly, the complex mechanical system of cogs and corks and steam and whatever it was that made it work creaking shrilly. Its initial movement was bumpy, as always, but the rest of the descent was smooth and agreeable. He let his head thump against the window, his eyes vacantly staring out of it. Progressively, the red neon gave way to a complete and pungent darkness, and he had no doubt that the atmosphere outside would be stifling and overall very uncomfortable. He didn’t know how they managed to even bear existing in such a sordid place. He guessed that it was the natural order of things.
Phew. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on one, and maybe he wouldn’t drag out its suffering for once and opt for a more straight forward approach. It would have the added bonus of cutting off its incessant wails because God, they were irritating. Couldn’t they just die in peace and let Shadow Milk do as he pleased? No? Was that too much to ask from them? They could at least try to keep their nonexistent dignity intact until the very end, but even that was too hard for them apparently. He wanted to squeeze it until it burst, splattering its gore onto the filthy ground of their sewers. It would mingle in with the trash. Poof, gone without a trace. Ha.
His leg bounced up and down. He just wanted this to be over with. While he took great pleasure in eating and methodically picking his victims out, he was a very busy vampire. He didn’t have the time to frolic around like he wanted to, no- he actually had responsibilities. How shocking- that deserved a round of applause, especially since he had a meeting with his despicable sister later on- to discuss about the recent human insurrections emerging from beyond the walls. That- that wrench. If it had been up to him, he wouldn’t even have shared a parent with her. She was embarrassing.
The elevator ground to a halt, the oppressive obscurity disappearing under the harsh glare of the humans’ lighting system- artificial, white and greenish lights illuminating the darkened underground depths of the sewers. Shadow Milk stepped into them and, predictably, the air was humid and hot, sticking to his skin. Ugh. That was why no one descended down there, and he honestly understood them. He was lucky that he wore mainly dark and sober clothing and hadn’t picked something too fancy, because the moment he stepped outside of the elevator, his boots plunged inside the dirty mud or whatever gunk it was, making a hideous squelching sound. Amazing.
He whistled, walking forward to leave the tunnel of the passage point. His side was empty, only a few vampires mulling and probably down here for the same reason as he was, but the humans’ side was packed. Their annoying cries and shouts assaulted his sensitive hearing as they all tried to board onto the elevator to go upward, the vampires officers pushing away the crowd. Shadow Milk had never gotten the concept. Why try and go upward illegally, without any papers (because they didn’t have them, as citizenship was extremely hard to obtain if not born vampire) if you would get arrested within a second of getting to taste the fresh and unpolluted air? It was idiotic, and so he paid them no mind, leaving the area with nothing more than a nod to the officer, who opened the gates.
He stepped outside, and immediately winced from the sheer noise alone. While the higher zone was always dreadfully devoid of any activity and perpetually gray and mundane, here, it was the exact opposite problem; everything was too much at once. Varied smells and sounds and views all clashed together in a disharmonious disaster- a living hell for someone like Shadow Milk, who favored aesthetics and good taste over practicality. The streets were dimly lit and the lights flickered, casting harsh shadows. The roof was rather low, jagged rocks and metal beams substituting the sky; the ‘buildings’ and infrastructures were ugly, a mesh of scrap and metal shaped together into something that would crumble down with a single push.
He aimlessly wandered through the streets, his hood pulled over his head; pointed ears were quite the obvious tell about his nature, and he wanted to avoid causing a general panic that would only make his work here harder. The large and main street was littered with stalls and merchants shouting at the customers to attract them- a marketplace, then. Huh. It hadn’t been here last time he had descended. He peered at the products- food that he wouldn’t make any use of, various other trinkets and objects that humans surely coveted… He absently looked around, searching for his meal. He was a picky eater, and wouldn’t settle for anything. At least a type A plus- a regular A if he was particularly hungry and had lowered his standards.
His face scrunched up when he had to push through a crowd, humans bumping shoulders with him. How did they manage to live in huge communities like that? Did they have no concept of personal space? He snarled when something ran into him, not even apologizing. Really, maybe he should make it his first victim-
He paused, narrowing his eyes.
He could smell something… sweet.
He was following the scent without even noticing it, his feet carrying him through the Sewers’ disorganized mess. It smelled something peculiar that he couldn’t quite name, stoking his appetite and leading him to take the more secluded paths, weaving through the deserted and narrow alleyways. He wracked his brain to try and name it accurately- it was sweet, that he could confidently affirm. Delicate, too, subtle and yet distinguishing itself from the humid and suffocating underground air. It wasn’t fruity nor heavy. No, it was something more akin to…
Vanilla.
He followed the alluring scent, licking his lips. It was strange- nothing but the scent of blood had ever made him feel this deeply rooted hunger that overpowered his mind. Where could it be coming from…? The closer he got, the stronger it became, and he hardly had to think for his body to lead him toward it. Even the most refined of products he had gotten to eat in his life hadn’t smelled so heavenly, like the scent belonged to the most delectable meal he had ever gotten to taste. See? There were perks of enduring the Sewers and coming down there to hunt- he never could have gotten his hands on anything good from the blood bank without having to complete a horribly enormous amount of paperwork; and even his more privileged status didn’t get him out of it.
He hissed when he accidentally bumped into a trashcan, sending its contents spilling on the ground. He looked up (after cursing it out vehemently) and was met with the sight of the most pitiful habitation he had ever seen, right in the middle of the slums. It was shoddily built, a part of a closely knit row of other similarly built habitations with no proper delimitation between houses. He would have been disgusted usually, but the enticing smell had gotten even stronger and clearer and it was getting a little hard to think straight, hence why he lifted his hand and rasped his knuckles on the door.
He waited. He was getting a bit antsy when-
The door creaked, slamming open.
He cleared his throat, plastering a grin on his face. The heady smell had gotten even more potent when the door opened, making him falter for a second. “Hello there-”
“Who are you?” The human who had opened the door crossed its arms, its face hardened and closed off as it assessed Shadow Milk. Its complexion was a dark color, its build strong and its hair black and streaked with white, similarly to Shadow Milk’s own.
His eye twitched. Had it really cut him off? The nerve. He rapidly glanced down, seeing its hand clenched over the handle of a sword strapped to its waist. Ugh. He hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. “Who raised you? Don’t you know that it’s the polite thing to do to greet a guest?”
“I do not have time to waste.” If Shadow Milk had been in a worse mood, he would have killed it already. But- that tantalizing scent coming from inside the habitation strangely calmed him and quieted the deafening roar of his hunger, making it more tolerable.
“Ow. So cold. Did I do something wrong?”
“Go away, vampire.” Ah. Maybe he wasn’t as subtle as he had thought himself to be. He removed his hood, since it was useless now; he had always been atrociously bad at pretending to be a human, his dignity preventing him from really trying to mingle with them.
“So angry. I didn’t do anything.” Yet. “Can I look inside?”
“Go. Away.” Its fingers wrapped around the handle, its grip tight.
“Just a peek…? I don’t bite, I swear!” He cackled, wiping his eye. He leaned forward, trying to see something past the human and peer inside.
“I said-” He didn’t know if it was brave or just fucking stupid, to brazenly defy him like that, and perhaps Shadow Milk could have an appetizer before getting his hands on whatever had this mouthwatering scent-
“Dark Cacao, what is it?” A soft spoken voice echoed from the precarious habitation’s interior, and another human stepped forward, ignoring its companion’s warning cry-
Shadow Milk’s rotten heart menaced to implode.
He had found it. The owner of that inviting aroma.
It had beautiful features for a human, ones that Shadow Milk could only dream of properly encapsulating with words alone. Everything about it was bright and soft, sticking out like a sore thumb amid the depressing poverty of the Sewers. Light blond hair fell over its shoulders in graceful waves, stopping at its chest with some of it pinned back in a loose hairstyle. Its eyes- their mismatched shades were striking, framed by thick rimmed glasses in perfect condition; which were a luxury, and incredibly hard for them to get. Its nose was slightly crooked, and yet still nauseatingly appealing. Rounded cheeks, calloused fingers, neat nails and sun-kissed skin (despite the lack of sun- genetics, for sure)…
What was wrong with him?
“-bout it.” The first human’s gravelly voice snapped him out of his delusional reverie. It was talking to the work of art, its violet eyes keeping the vampire in its line of sight. Shadow Milk was too distracted to care about it, his vision blurring a bit because- it smelled so good. He didn’t even know it was possible for a human to be this appealing, but maybe it was his hunger talking. His stomach growled.
“It’s not the time for harvest yet, is it?” The embodiment of grace spoke, its voice trickling inside Shadow Milk’s ears like the richest of bloods. He wondered if it would taste just as sweet as he smelled- how easily his fangs would pierce through its supple skin. “I thought we had a few more months left…”
“You’re right.” The dark haired one narrowed its eyes, its hand never leaving the handle of its sword. “There are no reasons to be coming down here.”
Shadow Milk took an embarrassing amount of time to answer, his eyes transfixed by the blond. Said blond squirmed uneasily under the intensity of his stare, the other human stepping slightly forward to shield it from view. As if it would be useful in any way. If Shadow Milk wanted to kill them, he would be able to do so without any problem. It was already taking a lot of restraint to not just pounce on it and take what he had every right to take, but… he found himself frozen on the spot, unable to reason very clearly due to the proximity- the sweet scent overpowering his mind and turning it to mush.
Before he could say anything, though, the other made to close the door, taking with it the mesmerizing human-
Shadow Milk bolted forward and stuck his foot in the doorway, stopping it from sealing itself shut fully. He smiled sweetly, snickering when the human sent him a murderous stare. How amusing. “That’s rude. You’re not even gonna let me finish-”
“No.” Asshole. Shadow Milk would have a field day ripping it apart limb from limb-
“Dark Cacao.” The angel descended from the sky reprimanded the other quietly, pushing the door open again. “It’s okay. Let’s listen to what he has to say.”
“What it said.” He nodded, sticking his hands inside his coat’s pockets if only to stop them from burrowing themselves inside the vanilla scented human’s chest and rip out its heart, its slick and warm blood dripping down from the open wound. It would taste amazingly good, that he was sure of. Was it a type AB? AB plus? It was strange that it hadn’t been carted off already and served to the higher ranked, with how tempting its scent was. Not like Shadow Milk was complaining- he much preferred to have it for himself.
The dark haired human didn’t sound too pleased at the use of the objectifying pronoun, its jaw clenching painfully. It obliged nonetheless, stepping back and allowing Shadow Milk to gaze better at the uttermost form of perfection ever created. It had really nice lashes. The vampire licked his lips. “If he tries anything-”
“Don’t worry.”
“I won’t.” He blatantly lied, already imagining his fangs tearing its flawless skin. “I won’t try anything, I swear.”
“What brought you here?” The blond smiled amiably, though it couldn’t quite mask the minute tremors wracking its hands or the sound of its heart beating rapidly, something that only his sensitive hearing could pick up on.
“This place is really horrible.” He bemoaned, salivating a bit. Who could blame him? Its fear would only make it even more delicious. Shadow Milk liked it better with a little thrill- where was the fun in drinking out of an administrated blood bag? “You could at least make an effort and clean up a bit.”
“Ah… if I had known someone of your standing would come visit us, I would have. It doesn’t happen very often.” It sheepishly admitted, fiddling with the sleeves of its cardigan. The thing was in a remarkably pristine state, the wool a mellow shade of yellow. Its entire outfit was relatively clean, especially when compared to the other’s dark and worn down attire, streaked with blackened soot and dust. A miner?
“It’s okay, I forgive you.” He crooned, extending his hand only for it to be smacked away by the taller human. His fingers twitched. The audacity. It was a wonder it hadn’t been blown to bits already, what with its atrociously bad attitude.
“I doubt that you came here to chat.” The humans that had been loitering around had all fled or hidden deeper in the slums, some of them fearfully spying on their conversation. They really lived on top of each other, huh?
“What if I did? Hmmm?”
“Spare us the theatrics.”
“Do you need something?” His future meal kindly asked, its brows furrowed concernedly. “We don’t have much, but…”
Shadow Milk grinned, taking a meaningful step forward, ready to spring into action because he had waited enough now and he couldn’t resist its alluring pull any longer. The dark skinned human noticed the shift, judging from the way its eyes widened minutely and its hand clasped around the sword’s handle firmly, beginning it to unsheathe it from its belt-
“I-”
“Would you like to drink some tea?”
Huh.
“…Huh?”
“Are you stupid-” The other hissed, grabbing its peer’s forearm and squeezing it. “Can’t you see? He wants to-!”
“Dark Cacao.” The blond stressed. Shadow Milk was too taken aback by the nonsensical proposal to notice the pointed stare it sent to the stronger one, and the look of realization that painted the latter’s features. “He’s a guest. Come now, let’s all get inside-”
“Wait-” The rude one was all but dragged inside, the captivating one sending a smile in Shadow Milk’s direction before disappearing inside.
The vampire rapidly blinked, squinting his eyes. Was… what was that? What should Shadow Milk even do now? The sensible thing to do would be putting an end to this senseless farce and just take what he had wanted to take initially, but… hm. What a shame it would be to waste such an attractive human, by treating it like every other dish he ever had. It was only logical, after all, and that was why he stepped inside the shoddy habitation, dutifully trailing after that divine scent.
Shadow Milk would entertain it…
And then enjoy his well deserved meal.
____________________________
Pure Vanilla had always known that he was different from others.
He might be a bit ditzy and airheaded, but he wasn’t naive. Ever since he was young, he had noticed how differently he was treated compared to his peers- no matter how close to them he was, there seemed to be an unsaid consensus every human had agreed upon, one that no one would ever dare disobey.
Pure Vanilla was protected, because he was the biggest target out of them all. If he was found out, then it would be over for him, without a doubt.
There was a vampire in his house.
He added the mint and sugar as well as a cup of boiled water, letting it simmer in the teapot.
He was doomed.
It was getting progressively harder to ignore Dark Cacao’s infamous death stares that promised a long and dreadful lecture later- well, if he did live long enough to see it. The thought made him swallow nervously, his fingers drumming the counter. He didn’t even clean up a thing- the house was in a state of disarray (as always, but there was little to do down here to make things more presentable), and he could feel the tips of his ears redden in embarrassment- what would the vampire think of him? He looked like a pretty high ranked one, too, and he had no idea what brought someone of his standing in the slums.
He looked so out of place here. Pure Vanilla had very seldom seen a vampire, but there were no doubts that the man was one. If the pointed ears, deathly pale complexion and sharpened teeth weren’t already proof enough, then his pristine and sophisticated attire surely was. Even though most of his outfit was obscured by his heavy coat, the fabric looked very qualitative and expensive. The human felt more than embarrassed with his patched up cardigan and his loose robe, even if he had always favored practicality above everything else.
His azure eyes were sharp and striking, taking in his surroundings as he sat down around the table- it would be more accurate to describe it as a polished slab of metal, though, one that Dark Cacao had managed to salvage while rummaging around the junk and scraps. Said man looked seconds away from jumping at their guest’s throat, his teeth gritted in an obvious show of displeasure. Couldn’t he stay civil? The vampire’s stare was already putting him on edge, never lifting off his figure. Was it because of his scent…? He had always been told that he smelled abnormally sweetly and of vanilla (which had earned him his name), but maybe it was even more noticeable for a vampire, who surely had a much more developed sense of smell? He hoped it wouldn’t give his nature away.
“Sorry, if I had anticipated your visit, I would have prepared it sooner.” He bit his lip, wringing his hands together. He didn’t remember it taking this long for the water to boil sufficiently. What if it angered his guest…?
“It’s nothing.” The vampire drawled, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. He was really handsome, with his sharp features and his natural ease- he was charismatic. He also had a really sharp set of fangs. Pure Vanilla unconsciously rubbed his neck. “If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing for coming here so suddenly.”
“Nonsense-”
“Then perhaps you should have spared yourself the trouble of descending down here.” His stupid friend retorted, the vampire’s lazy smile twitching dangerously downward.
“I like it here. It’s authentic.”
“I’m sure it is much more agreeable upward, in your privileged little coven.”
“Ha. You should really think twice before-”
“The tea’s ready!” He loudly blurted out, effectively cutting off their terse and tense back and forth. It also made them both unpleasantly turn toward him at once, and he fretfully carried the tray to the table, pouring them all a glass. The vampire followed his movements attentively, watching as he lifted the teapot high in the air and poured the scalding tea from a high distance, his gesture quick as he righted it and set it onto the table, handing them all their glasses. “Here. Tell me if it needs more sugar.”
“That’s a strange way to pour tea.” He remarked, wrapping his hand around the glass. He hissed sharply when it burned him, the liquid hot even through the glass.
“I’ve always done it like that.” His hands trembled, the tension in the room unbearably suffocating as they waited for the other shoe to drop- for the moment the vampire would drop all civilities and either devour Pure Vanilla whole right here or register him as a type O, effectively reducing his chances of survival to none. These weren’t very bright and hopeful possibilities. “Is it sweet enough?”
“Very.” His eyes bore into Pure Vanilla. He wasn’t talking about the tea. “No need to add anything else.”
“I-I’m glad, then.” He sat next to Dark Cacao, the older man briefly looking at him before swiveling toward their impromptu guest once more, watching over him like a hawk.
He felt a chilling fear progressively seize his lungs and take a hold of his heart, his eyes shamefully flitting down. After all the effort that everyone had put in order to conceal and protect him from the vampires- was that how he would be uncovered? Because of his scent? Because he was too enticing? Too noticeable? He had seen the others get raffled by the vampires during blood shortages; the families heartlessly torn apart without a care, the arbitrary arrests, the elevator filled to the brim with not enough space to even breathe properly… it was a hellish sight, a scenario that he had always dreaded. Everyone’s kindness and consideration would be vain, because today was the day Pure Vanilla would be taken away forever.
It scared him.
Dark Cacao took a sip. “You’ve truly mastered it.” He mumbled into his drink, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping it.
“Thank you.” He brought his own to his lips, tasting it. Hm. He could have done better. The vampire had never once turned away from him, his attention always on the human in one way or another.
“Do you work?” He absently mused, his stare piercing.
“He does not.”
“I wasn’t addressing you. I think it has a voice and a brain now, doesn’t it?”
“He’s a man, not a toy.” His dear friend spat out vehemently, his body language aggressive.
“It’s as pretty as a doll.” He grinned crookedly, swirling his glass around. “Aren’t you just a handsome one?”
“A-Ah.” He floundered, not really knowing what the right answer was. He didn’t want to provoke him (as he was the one disadvantaged here), lest he gave him another reason to kill him. “Really…?”
“Do I look like the type to lie?” It was hard to get a read on him, but Pure Vanilla had never been good at discerning others’ true natures, so maybe that was to be expected. Still, he liked to think that vampires weren’t all inherently rotten and perverted, even if it was perhaps a bit foolish from him. Surely behind that apathetic and apparently indifferent attitude, emotions lied within their hearts? If. If they did have hearts. Did they…? Was that even important to know? Oh, Pure Vanilla was panicking alright.
“Um.” What was he meant to answer to that? He silently sipped his mint tea. It was a bit amusing how the vampire mimicked him, sticking his tongue out when he burned himself with the hot liquid. The blond liked to drink it hot, though Dark Cacao preferred it lukewarm.
“Lovely home, by the way.” His eyebrow twitched, sending a dirty look at the burning beverage.
“Didn’t you say that it was horrible before…?” His friend stomped on his foot under the table, making him wince. Ow. He faltered under the dark haired man’s warning stare, and perhaps he was getting too comfortable with their impromptu guest- he couldn’t help it! It was ingrained into his very being to be hospitable to newcomers, but… ah. It was all going down catastrophically.
This improvised tea party was the most awkward and tense one he ever had had the displeasure of having, and the idea hadn’t seemed too bad in the moment. A decoy to delay his impending death and maybe distract the vampire from any thoughts he might be having about snacking on the blond- Pure Vanilla didn’t think that he would be too appetizing. Still, now he was stuck with housing the very being who might be the cause of his death, serving him tea. It wasn’t even cold outside.
“Did I now?” His eyes were frighteningly intense, roaming over Pure Vanilla’s inconspicuous figure. Why was he so intent on looking at him…? He wasn’t anything special. He unconsciously tugged his sleeves down. “Maybe you’re the one making it lovelier.” He purred, his gloved finger absently tracing circles onto the table’s surface.
Dark Cacao looked minutes away from an aneurysm. “T-Thank you…?”
“Stop fooling around!” His friend abruptly snarled, slamming a hand on the table and making his glass shatter as it fell to the floor. It startled Pure Vanilla, making him nervously look at the vampire. His gaze was unreadable, only momentarily shifting to Dark Cacao before starting back its creepy and attentive observation of the blond. He wondered what he was thinking about.
“You’re funny.” He cackled, his eyes squinted mischievously. He didn’t look the littlest bit intimidated by his companion’s angered outburst, and perhaps he knew that he had the upper hand in every way possible. Maybe Dark Cacao shouldn’t provoke him so much. “What an interesting human you are- thankfully- or unfortunately- for you, you’re not the one I’m after.”
Just like that, a cold and oppressive feeling washed over him as the vampire smiled at him, flashing his sharpened rows of fangs. Pure Vanilla’s hands trembled around his glass, and he must have been looking very terrorized and ashen because his expression turned more predatory, his chin resting on his hand as he contemplated him hungrily. The blond swallowed, the motion immediately tracked by the other. “A-Ah. And… who-”
“You.” Pure Vanilla’s eyes barely had the time to widen before he was suddenly grabbed by the collar, hoisted up and slammed against the wall so harshly it made him cry out in both pain and surprise. He had moved so fast- one second he had been sitting at the table, and the next thing he knew, a hand was wrapping around his neck to pin him in place and prevent him from breaking free. He winced when his face was roughly grabbed and turned to the side, trying to angle it up.
Pure Vanilla was- terrified would barely encapsulate the frightful feeling that paralyzed him and rendered him unable to move, the vampire’s strength incomparable to his. Was this the end? Would that be it? He squeezed his eyes shut when the vampire’s fangs brushed over the skin of his neck, at the junction between it and his collarbone-
His aggressor let out a loud hiss, his grip around Pure Vanilla faltering. The latter opened his eyes blearily, his glasses sliding off his nose. A sword had been stabbed right through the immortal’s middle, making Pure Vanilla a bit nauseous at the sight of the metal resurfacing from his pale flesh. He was promptly released, falling to the floor with a loud thud. He clenched his jaw, his sides and knees throbbing weakly as he righted himself up, his vision swimming a bit. He had some trouble keeping up with everything that was happening, and so he raised his head to see what-
A guttural scream.
The blond slowly looked down, something rolling on the floor with a squelching noise and stopping right in front of him. It was darkened in color, wrapped in fabric and twitching feebly, something wet and viscous gushing from one of its ends-
Oh.
A severed arm.
Pure Vanilla fainted.
____________________________
What a pain.
Shadow Milk kicked the motionless human, experimentally pushing it with his foot. Huh. It didn’t look ready to get back up anytime soon, its blond hair obscuring its face as it laid curled up on the floor, its hands lax and its legs bent. So sensitive- but he had learned that it possessed a gentle soul, one as delicate as its exterior was, so perhaps it was to be expected that the gory sight would understandably make it freak out. It looked refined even in a state of unconsciousness, and Shadow Milk’s fingers ached to brush the strands apart and see what expression it was making in its slumber. That mind numbing scent was even more potent inside the ‘house’, and Shadow Milk was plunged in a bizarre and foreign state where he couldn’t seem to avert his eyes from its figure, transfixed by it. Ew.
The other human was agonizing on the ground, clutching the spasming remnants of its arm, warm and thick blood spurting from the open wound. He scrunched up his nose, the acidic and nondescript scent briefly clashing with the delectable, vanilla one for a moment. Yuck. It smelled dreadfully awful, and Shadow Milk wouldn’t even call it a type B if it hadn’t been the lowest designation possible. He licked his lips, his eyes predictably straying back toward the blond, as if attracted by a strong and potent magnet. He needed to wash the taste out of his mouth- replace it with something sweeter.
He bit his lip, tapping his foot on the floor and ignoring the other’s blood curling screams. But- ugh. He was now facing an important dilemma, one that required all of his brain power.
Should he eat it now?
Don’t get him wrong- there were no doubts that consuming its blood was something inevitable and ineluctable, and Shadow Milk would be damned if he let a product as divine as this one escape from his grasp. It was just that… hm, how could he put it… should he really act so hastily and ordinarily? After all, this was a once in a lifetime occasion- shouldn’t he enjoy it to the fullest and not let it go to waste? He had always preferred it when his prey squirmed and pleaded, aware while he mercilessly shredded them apart. He wanted to savor it like a remarkable gourmet dish- let its intoxicating flavor flood his palate and bless his senses. It would be a shame to treat it as any other one of his previous preys.
He took a step toward the blond, hissing as he was reminded of the sharpened blade still very much embedded in his stomach, sending numb twinges of pain shooting up his body. It would take a lot more to seriously harm him, but he could acknowledge the effort. It took a lot of courage to actually try something against a far more superior aggressor, and… he didn’t know if it was brave or idiotic. Well, Shadow Milk had cut its arm off in a knee-jerk motion, but didn’t it have two of them? It would manage.
He yanked the blade out in a smooth, sharp gesture, sending it clattering on the floor. The wound throbbed weakly and he paid it no mind, though he felt a bit lightheaded as he crouched down next to the attractive human- he had already been a bit weakened by his previous hunger, so the steady flow of abject blood trickling from the injury only exacerbated his faintness. He pushed at the unconscious human’s body, now laying on its back. Its face was serene except for the slight furrow of its brows, plush lips slightly parted open. His mouth watered, and his resolve faltered immensely. Perhaps he could have just a taste…? A little, tiny, barely noticeable bite that would only confirm its quality. After all, what if its scent was deceitful? What if it didn’t hint on its tastiness? Shadow Milk wouldn’t go through all the trouble of waiting for it to properly wake up and toy with it for a bit before feasting on its blood if it turned out to only be an elaborate farce and a waste of time.
He poked its cheek, just because he could. Predictably, it didn’t react. Shadow Milk bent down, his knees hitting the (horribly dusty) floor, careful not to accidentally step onto the puddle of tea and glass shards littered on it. He licked his lips, his face deliciously close to its alluring aroma. He could only dream of imagining how delightful it would be to just reach out and sink his fangs inside its malleable flesh, breaking the human’s fragile skin to reach what was hiding underneath it. Was he developing an obsession over it? Yes. Yes, he totally was. And so, he grabbed its limp head by the hair, angling it up and getting closer because despite his earlier spiel about waiting and savoring the moment, Shadow Milk was a very impatient man-
The human abruptly sat up with a gasp, its forehead butting with Shadow Milk’s. Ow.
Its eyes wildly looked around, a bit dazed from the impact. Its hands shakily reached up to cover its forehead, surely throbbing painfully. They were so fragile. It took some time before it took notice of its proximity with Shadow Milk, the latter crouched near it with their faces hovering less than a meter apart. The vampire grinned. The blond loudly squeaked, mortified and terrified as it hurriedly tried to scoot away, held back by the other’s pale hand yanking its forearm. It was a dreadful and chaotic scene- the taller human was still writhing on the floor, though much more subdued and erratic now, laying in a puddle of its own blood. At least it wasn’t insufferably screaming anymore. The blond’s bronzed complexion had turned an ashen and washed out color, its eyes widened and reddened. Geez. So dramatic.
“Where are you going?” He hummed, his nails digging into the other’s sleeve. It winced, its body shaking for some reason. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
“I-I-” It babbled, its eyes vacantly stuck on its friend’s prone and twitching form. Shadow Milk didn’t like that, so he squished its cheeks and roughly snapped its head toward himself, its terrified eyes meeting his azure ones. There. Their mismatched shades were striking, even more so in its horrified stupor, their irises almost swallowed by the white of their scelera.
“What should I do with you…?” He pensively muttered, turning its face around like he was examining a fine piece of china- or a particularly scrumptious meal while trying to decide if he should eat the best parts first or last. Hm. Truly, he was stuck now. “Keep you and bring you up? Eat you now? It would be a shame to waste something as refined as you.”
It didn’t seem to pay his absent musings any mind, its trembling hand covering its mouth as the other arm was still gripped firmly by the vampire. They really were a sensitive species. Shadow Milk groaned and stood up, yanking the human upward and making it stumble clumsily on its feet. Its robe and cardigan were stained with blood, some of it having messily spilled over the fair fabric, and its body was shaking too badly to remain steady without Shadow Milk’s assistance. Really, perhaps he should just swing it over his shoulders and carry it- would spare him the hassle of dragging its frozen body all the way back upside. But… he didn’t want to risk damaging it.
His throat annoyingly choked up from the proximity, its heavenly scent invading his mind and weakening his resolve. He fought off the very odd urge to bury his nose in the crook of its neck, instead tugging it forward and stepping out of that dreadful ‘house’. The entire thing shook on its foundations when he slammed the door on his way out, whistling a nondescript tune under his breath. A few humans had drawn closer, all hidden inside the shadowed corners (surely at the sound of the other human’s bloodcurdling screams of pain), but they were quick to fretfully scamper when Shadow Milk emerged with the blond in tow, the latter not looking too… responsive. Whatever. It wasn’t like he actually needed it to talk, or God forbid converse with him.
The stroll back to the elevator was- pleasant, because everything seemed to avoid him like the plague, the humans giving his path a wide berth. The previously deafening and roaring cacophony of the crowd had disappeared, giving way to hushed murmurs and quiet rustling. Shadow Milk was tugging his prize along, its delicious aroma wafting through the air and almost managing to make him forget the hot and humid air of the repulsive Sewers. Almost.
Said human was entirely silent, its steps hurried and stumbling as it tried to keep up with Shadow Milk’s ample and meaningful strides. A futile task, because the vampire was powered by impatience and anticipation, thus not caring about moderating his pace to let the blond follow without being dragged. He couldn’t wait to get out of here- he had had enough. Each second he spent in this place was a couple of years taken off his ridiculously elongated lifespan. Huh. Was he immortal? He didn’t quite know, as he had never seen a vampire die from natural causes (most often killed either by rebelling pests or by their own peers), and the oldest he knew had since long reached the few millenniums of existence. Who knew. Certainly not him.
He hummed a tune under his breath, something that happened often whenever he was carrying out a menial task or lost in the confines of his own mind. Music was nonexistent in the vampire’s society, something deemed vulgar and too much likened to human culture to be truly appreciated. He had never been exposed to one, except the dreadfully grating revolutionary chants and other musics the humans indulged in, so it was a complete mystery why Shadow Milk knew some songs in the first place. He didn’t give it much thought, his grip tightening around the human’s wrist when it almost tripped over a jagged piece of metal sticking out from the ground, its (once) white shoes completely muddied and dirty.
He entered the dimly lit passage point, the tunnel just as blissfully empty as it had been when he had first arrived. The humans were still screaming like cattle to be given access to board onto the elevator, a few of them detaching themselves from the mass to send concerned and revolted looks at the both of them. They must make quite a pair- he didn’t know what expression his captive was making, but it mustn’t look very agreeable to see, its beautiful traits surely contorted in anguish. Or maybe it was the opposite? Completely devoid of any of these ‘emotions’, mind numbed from the shock of seeing its friend’s severed arm gushing blood or from being so suddenly ripped away from its previous life? Humans’ minds were an unnecessarily complicated thing, and Shadow Milk would keel over and die if he ever tried to properly understand it.
He stepped onto the platform, the officers giving him nothing more than a glance before they closed the gate behind him, sending the elevator upward with a powerful shudder. The vampire sighed, taking a seat and harshly tugging his refined meal alongside him, making it very maladroitly land on the seat in front of him. The shift in pressure must not have been something that the human was accustomed to, because it winced when it began its ascent, trembling hands covering its ears. Huh. Right; it would technically be the first time that it would be able to taste the fresh air of modernity, though not for very long. Shadow Milk’s eyes couldn’t help but stray toward its neck, uncovered and tantalizingly in his reach. Patience.
“Nice view, hm?” He turned his head toward the window, his eyes meeting a disorienting blackness. “I bet that you don’t get to experience this very often. Aren’t you the littlest bit excited at the prospect of getting to see what a proper city look like?” Ah, he hadn’t managed to keep the bitter disdain for its race out of his voice.
The human stayed silent, and perhaps the vampire should start to get concerned. It was unresponsive, its gaze down and its hands wringing over its lap, and Shadow Milk hoped that it wouldn’t influence its taste negatively. Contrary to popular belief, many factors resulted in whether or not a human was qualitative- not just its blood type, as it constituted only the… hm. Reference, in a way, because no matter how much it could vary, it always stayed within its assigned classification. The psychological compound was important, too, as it had been researched and proved that stress reduced its quality- hence why the humans destined for grand meals were always put in optimal living conditions before their inevitable consumption. The humans farms were successful, too, because young humans had a tendency to not fully grasp their situation, thus only ‘stressing out’ in the immediacy of their execution.
The blond looked plenty stressed now. Hm. Something to relax the atmosphere. “Don’t worry- you’ll barely feel a thing when it’s time.” He was so bad at this, it was a little funny.
What was even funnier was the way its eyes comically widened, its already washed out complexion graying further. It let out a strange, squeaking sound, its hands flying up to cover its mouth- it did that a lot. A compulsory reaction associated to horror? While he could understand that the prospect of an imminent death wasn’t very… enjoyable, he didn’t understand why it was making such a fuss about it. With a scent as marvelous as its, it was a wonder that no one had scooped it up the filthy streets a long time ago. If the blond really wanted to avoid ending up as a meal, why didn’t it just kill itself? It could use its shoelaces, its face turning a peculiar shade of violet as it suffocated. What a waste it would be.
“Do you know what your type is?” He tilted his head, crossing a leg over the other and leaning back in his seat- the perfect picture of the arrogant and theatrical individual that he was.
“N-No.” It pushed through gritted teeth, its voice barely more than a whisper. The rumbled of the elevator almost drowned it out, but Shadow Milk’s sensitive hearing could pick up its soothing cadence anytime.
“C’mon. I’m sure you do.” He grinned, stretching out his foot to rub the human’s calf up and down. It made a frightened sound, trying to scoot away as far as possible as it could. If Shadow Milk wanted, he could pounce on the other at anytime and rip its neck off its pretty head, reaching for the warm and sweetened blood residing underneath the layers of skin. “No no- wait. I’ll guess.”
It stayed silent, its feet anxiously tapping the floor.
“AB?”
No answer.
“Wait, no, I’m sure it’s AB plus.”
The blond hiccuped, its eyes watering.
“There’s no way you’re any less than that.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh, squinting his eyes. “Y’know, I have a lot of experience in tasting, and I can guarantee that type As don’t smell this good nor do they taste as sweet as you surely do.”
“A-Ah.” It was crying now, its hands pushing up its glasses and futilely trying to wipe its eyes out. The tears rolled down its cheeks, crystalline and shimmering stunningly under the artificial and whitened lighting of the elevator’s interior. Its eyes were reddened, and really, Shadow Milk marveled at how easily humans displayed their emotions. He personally didn’t know if he could ever imagine crying in front of someone else, let alone possess the ability to cry in the first place.
“What is it? Huh?” He prompted, curious. “Why are you crying? It’s useless. You’re wasting water.”
It didn’t seem too intent on responding to him, hiccuping and taking in painful breaths that didn’t sound too pleasant to experience. Its glasses’ lens were carelessly smudged by its fingers, and Shadow Milk wondered if he should let it have them in the first place. It didn’t need them for the purpose that Shadow Milk had newly given it, and they were merely a heap of plastic. But… hm. As silly as that sounded, they served to enhance its beauty, framing its mesmerizing eyes and softening its features.
The ride was less bumpy than the initial one, and relatively devoid of anyone else. Shadow Milk would have preferred to remain alone in the entire cabin, but alas, a handful of other vampires were occupying seats, and he didn’t like the way some of them were ogling his prize- their interest no doubt piqued by the human’s extremely alluring and mouth watering scent. It made irrational and complicated feelings grip his throat and squeeze his lungs, making it a little harder to breath through the thick haze of his offense. Wasn’t it clear that Shadow Milk had staked his claim on this human? Did he need to make it anymore obvious? He wished that he could reach out and rip their greedy eyes out, but he didn’t want to risk the human going into cardiac arrest because of shock.
The blond shivered, wrapping its arms around its middle. The fabric of its cardigan looked soft- wool? He wondered if they (the appetizing one and the one he had severed the arm of) were among the more fortunate humans, the ones who managed to possess few belongings in spite of their overwhelming misery. Did they have some sheep? He didn’t know if humans still used currency to trade, or had just reverted to a more primitive form of bartering. Its feet didn’t touch the ground from where it was seated, the seats tailored to vampires (who had a height and strength advantage over them).
He narrowed his eyes, sending the nearest vampire a nasty glare as he saw them lean over the seat to try and get closer to the blond’s delectable aroma. He was about to make a scene and teach them not to covet what he already owned when his phone started ringing. He fished it out from his pocket and flipped it open, the human’s cries reduced to light sniffles as it curiously looked at him.
“What is it?” He said in lieu of a greeting, irritated. “I don’t have time to waste.”
“How rude, for someone who is late.”
Oh. It was her.
He scowled, his mood visibly drooping. He must have looked scary, because the human hurriedly averted its eyes, visibly swallowing. “I’m coming, aren’t I? That’s already an honor in itself, you old hag.”
“Wow. I’m immensely grateful that you decided to grace me with your presence. But why the tardiness?”
“I had things to take care of.” If she wasn’t technically superior to him, he would have obliterated her already.
“What kind?”
“The kind that you don’t need to poke your dirty nose into.”
“Weren’t you just fetching something to eat?”
“Maybe I was.” He drawled, the gears of the elevator audibly creaking. “Why does it matter? I’m coming anyway- that should satisfy you enough.”
“Mhm.” Her absent humming told him that he would get interrogated about this very thoroughly upon arriving, in an hour long gossip session that he didn’t have any interest in partaking in. “You will come straight to me, won’t you?”
“I’ll have to make a little detour.” He looked at the human. He didn’t trust it anywhere inside his own domain- he couldn’t risk it escaping from him, or discovered by one of his peer and whisked away before he even had the chance to taste what he had been daydreaming about ever since… an hour or so ago. “To drop something off.”
“Oh my. Can I know your plan?”
“No.”
“You’re no fun-”
He hung up.
Now, he assessed the trembling human, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs as the elevator loudly creaked and came to an abrupt stop, the cabin shaking.
I really hope it tastes as deliciously as it smells…