Chapter Text
Hoseok watched from his perched position on his bed as raindrops raced down the window, the rain outside pouring down hard and fast.
He curled into himself tighter, his knees against his chest beginning to dig into the cavity. He shivered slightly from both the lack of insulation in the room as well as the chill given off from the window. The bed beneath him creaked as he shifted in an effort to grow more comfortable. The boy in the bunk next to him shushed him angrily before turning over with a huff, disappearing under his thin blanket.
When Hoseok was young, he thought he’d be living a life like the ones he’d seen on TV—constantly partying and hanging out with friends and dragging himself to work the next day, only to do it all over again. It’d be fast paced and filled with life—a sharp contrast to his reality.
Never in a million years did he think he’d be trying to adapt to life as a vampire—an abandoned fledgling at that.
It’d all happened so fast. One minute Hoseok was getting off the train, the cool night air nipping at his face as he climbed the subway steps, the next he was being dragged into an alleyway, the grip of his attacker too strong to escape from. At first, he thought he was being harassed by a crackhead—an unusually jacked nut who’d probably shot his veins full of some hallucinogenics moments ago.
He was proved wrong when the man shoved his face into Hoseok’s neck and bit down, the pain searing and unlike anything he’d ever felt. The fire in his veins spread throughout his body, his muscles seizing up as his neck bent back painfully, his head hitting the brick wall so hard he saw stars. With every suck the man took, he could feel his grip on reality slipping, his body slowly dying. He never wanted to feel that helpless ever again.
When the man had decided he was done with him, he threw Hoseok’s limp body to the side, the nearly lifeless figure landing on top of a few bags of trash. He was in so much pain and agony that he was almost grateful to have some sort of cushion to lie on, no matter how disgusting it may have been.
Hoseok had tried to move his limbs, but it was as if his brain and body were disconnected from one another. It took too much effort to form a thought, let alone move a limb. As the seconds passed by, he could feel the blood drip from the holes in his neck in a steady stream, the foul stench of the trash assaulting his nostrils. He sniffled half-heartedly. Not only from the pain, but also the weird feeling of emptiness in his chest.
Later on his matron had informed him about sire bonds and all that they entailed. The man had drank enough from him to initiate the throes of one but left long before it could take hold, leaving Hoseok’s vampire confused and hurt. He had scoffed at the information. Biology didn’t tend to care about circumstances.
He leaned his head against his knees as his eyes scanned the darkened room. He didn’t need a light to map out the various rows of bunks within it. Hoseok had been here longer than anyone. It’d been two years since that night in the alleyway, since the night he’d lost his humanity and gained immortality.
It seemed to be more of a curse than a blessing.
His matron, Teresa, was the one to find him in his battered state and deem him worthy enough for a spot at the orphanage—not that it was prestigious or anything. In fact, it was quite dreary and run down, scarily close to violating basic health regulations, if that was even a thing in vampire society. All the new customs and rules were too much for Hoseok to keep up with.
She didn’t need to suck his blood or give him some special serum like in the movies. Hoseok was already in the process of turning after the man had sucked him nearly dry—some sort of vampiric initiation she said.
Her company, although quite cold and detached, was comforting in a way. She was somewhere between a grinchy neighbor and a school nurse, more one than the other depending on the day. She’d been hoping just as much, maybe even more, than Hoseok for his adoption into a vampire coven. Beds were limited and well-coveted. The more fledglings they took in, the better they were paid by “The Council” which Hoseok had come to know was the ruling court in the vampire world.
Most covens these days were closed off, instead opting to turn humans of their own choosing rather than pre-formed fledglings. Some didn’t want kin that wasn’t theirs through their own turning, others flat out viewed them as less than for being abandoned by their sires, as if it was their own doing.
Half of the fledglings Hoseok had been with when he first arrived were gone by now, each of them having had found a placement within a coven, the other half being returned after finding what they thought was a permanent placement only days later.
Hoseok had never been picked, not even once.
The others had told him it was because of his looks, some told him it was his unlikeable personality. Most pointed out his malnutritious appearance and his blaring obvious stunt in development. Hoseok scoffed at their notions—how could anyone expect him to thrive in these conditions? Especially considering how long he’s been here?
A fledgling of his age should have grown full fangs by now, ones that were long and durable enough to puncture small prey and pierce blood bags easily. The fact plagued Hoseok daily, even more so whenever he ran his tongue over his blunt, short canines.
Nobody wants the extra work that comes along with adopting a fledgling with his set of flaws. Vampires come in with questionable intentions, adopt a fledgling or two, and head home, ready to share the news with all their friends. Weren’t they such good, generous vampires? They didn’t have to adopt these poor, homeless fledglings but they did anyway.
How nice of them.
Hoseok scoffed. He had stopped caring a long time ago. It was easier to cope with the outlook of the rest of his eternity when he did. He wrapped his blanket around himself, letting it swallow him up. His eyes were burning from his lack of rest, one that spanned days.
Fledglings were supposed to sleep for sixteen hours a day and fed around every four. Hoseok couldn’t remember if there even was a time when he’d fulfilled those quotas. He usually slept for three hours at most every couple of days, drinking a sterile blood bag every other day if the other fledglings failed to snatch it from him and he somehow managed to make a slit in it.
Although the orphanage wasn’t ridiculously lacking in resources, it wasn’t exactly rich either. The bare minimum was met with each fledgling to the best of each matron's ability. Hoseok’s poor condition wasn’t entirely a product of his environment, it was his own doing as well.
No matron could understand why. By now, they’d stopped caring. Everyone knew Hoseok was gathering dust in that bunk, each day becoming more and more like a husk of a fledgling before eventually withering away completely.
There were other fledglings to focus on—too many babies to adjust to vampiric life. They couldn’t bother with him.
Sometimes, Hoseok wishes they did—wishes he had someone to lean back on and depend on. Other times, he willingly simmered in his own pain, finding comfort within it. He ran his tongue along his teeth once more. Defective. Unwanted.
Hoseok stared into the window for the rest of the day, watching as the moon rose silently, signaling the ringing of the morning bell.
—
No one said anything about the dark circles under his eyes. They were all used to seeing them by now, and besides, they were too busy with chores to care.
Fledglings may have slept a lot but when they woke up, the matrons made sure to put them to work. Running an orphanage wasn’t easy and they learned that vampires were more likely to adopt second-rate fledglings when they saw they could handle basic household responsibilities. This knowledge was abused more than appreciated once the fledgling was adopted.
Today, Hoseok was on laundry duty. He lugged one of the many hampers towards the designated washroom, his muscles screaming. The ways of doing things around the orphanage were old, so old that Hoseok was crouched over a washbasin with a bar of soap scrubbing the dirty clothes by hand.
Over his time here, he’d built up quite the tolerance to the vigorous activity, callouses appearing on the surface of his palm. He tried to get lost in his thoughts like he usually did in an attempt to make the mundane task more exciting. Hoseok took a deep breath and waited.
.
..
…
Nothing.
He kept scrubbing. There wasn’t anything to think about. No prospects for his future, no possible way to romanticise the life he currently led. He let himself get lost in the sound of the fibers rubbing against the washboard.
Scrub
Scrub
Scrub
The freshly washed clothes dripped water on him as he hung them up. His part of the chores were done for now. The bell in the washroom rang, similar sounds being echoed across the building in other rooms. Feeding time.
It was their second blood bag of the day, Hoseok having skipped his first in favor of looking at the moon some more. He tried to ignore the grumble of his stomach, the way it cramped painfully.
The young fledgling sighed before making his way through the halls towards the cafeteria. It was cold, the chill outside breeze creeping into the building through its cracks and seams. Hoseok wrapped his arms around himself and tried to blend in with the dark stone walls.
He heard the faint sound of chattering echoing throughout the halls. He paused and listened closer. It was coming from the west side of the orphanage—where the common room was. Although many things may suck about his new life as a vampire, Hoseok appreciated his heightened senses.
Two girls rushed by Hoseok, almost knocking him over.
“...and apparently he’s looking to adopt! Can you believe it? They say no one’s ever even seen all of the Bangtan Coven—we could become its newest members!” They squealed and chittered to each other.
Oh.
It was only a vampire looking to adopt. Nothing special, really. If it had happened a year ago, past Hoseok would’ve been just as excited as the girls, been on his best behavior in hopes of being chosen. But, Hoseok didn’t care about that kinda thing anymore. It just wasn’t attainable for him. At this point, he was waiting to age out of the system.
He continued his journey towards the cafeteria, the news of the arrival of the vampire spreading faster than he expected. Fledglings sat around the various dining tables in huddles, their own little cliques, and murmured hopeful words to each other while they sucked on their blood bags.
Hoseok shivered once more, the air in the cafeteria not any warmer than in the hallway. He grabbed a blood bag from one of the matrons, and took a seat in the corner of the room against the wall. In his opinion, it was the best seat in the whole cafeteria.
Not only did its shadows cover him comfortably, no one bothered to interact with him. No one ever did, really. He’d become more of a pity case—or a laughing stock depending on the fledgling you asked. He’d become a warning for the new arrivals, his name uttered to keep fledglings in their place. [“You don’t want to end up like him, do you?]
Hoseok stared at the bag, its cold temperature seeping into his hand. He watched as the liquid sloshed around.
Sigh.
He pulled out a pair of scissors from his pocket and snipped open a hole at the top of the bag. He put them away quickly before any other fledgling saw, not that they didn’t already know and make fun of him for it, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with their mockery today.
The frigid liquid hit his tongue and instead of gulping it down, Hoseok took small, baby sips before scrunching his face. The blood didn’t taste good, it never did. It tasted sterile and bitter, like sanitized gloves. He got through one-fourth of the bag before deciding he was done despite the grumble of his stomach. He’d rather starve than force himself to drink that sludge.
Right as he went to throw out his blood bag, the cafeteria exploded into excited chitters and screams. Hoseok froze and scanned the room; what was going on?
Oh.
There stood a vampire, most likely the one the girls were talking about earlier, at the entrance of the cafeteria talking to matron Teresa. He was unlike anything Hoseok had ever seen. His skin was pale, his shoulders broad. The vampire's plump lips caught the attention of everyone—he was beyond handsome. The room exploded excitedly once more.
They traversed down the tables, matron Teresa keeping him engaged in conversation while she pointed out certain fledglings. Everyone tuned into their conversation. It was too general and safe to give hints about their true intentions for being here. Fledglings grumbled and instead took to observing the pair.
Hoseok said nothing as he ignored the situation and went to discard his blood bag, passing the mysterious vampire as he did so. A strange prickle went up his spine, goosebumps spreading across his skin. A small spark ignited in his chest before flickering out just as quickly as it’d came, leaving Hoseok confused.
It was probably just the effects of his poor diet. Or well, his poor everything.
He continued walking out of the cafeteria and headed towards his bunk, desperate for some time to himself.
Hoseok was oblivious to the pair of eyes that had followed him out of the cafeteria, a small spark of his own igniting in his unbeating chest.