A car passes, blowing a gust of misted air past the two as they stared at each other curiously.

This woman, who'd seemingly appeared out of nowhere, regarded Deja with an unnerving interest. Almost as if she knew her.

Another chill blows over Deja and she tightened her clutch on Apollo.

"Um.....thank you?" She chuckles breathlessly and the woman's smile slowly goes bashful and she blushes as she took a step back.

"I'm sorry...that was weird and random." She shakes her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Deja's confused expression melts to one of mild bewilderment and the tension in her shoulders fade a bit as she exhaled.

"No...I mean..compliments are nice. I just wasn't expecting one." She admits, glancing down at her attire. The woman does the same, eyeing Deja's skin more intently.

"Especially now right? In the middle of the night after chasing your dog up the street.." the woman adds and Deja huffs in embarrassment. Just then, the wide sketch pad that's been tucked under her other arm falls loose and hits the dampened concrete.

It lands so that the cover lifts and the delicate pages bend against the wet sidewalk and Deja groans in exasperation as it settled against the ground.

"Lordy...." she mutters, attempting to bend over to reach for it. Before she can, it's snatched up from the sidewalk by the woman nearby.

Deja blinks rapidly in surprise as she watched the pages of her sketchbook rustle in the wind as the woman shook it out. Her brow creases with mild concern for the condition of the sketchpad's pages and she tilts her as she made sure nothing beyond the corners were wet.

"Oh..thank you." Deja frowns and the woman glances up distractedly as she located the book's cover.

"No worries. Seems like your hands are already....." she trails off when her eye catches on a familiar face amongst the sketches. Her brow twitches and her gaze hardens at the smudged charcoal for a moment before she blinks and resumes flipping the pages until the cardboard cover is back in place.

A face so notable with features even her unaging mind couldn't forget. So perfectly recreated, it's haunting to witness him immortalized in 2D in such detail.

Lips she once kissed.

Eyes that once regarded her with devotion and lust.

A face she wouldn't dare admit to missing but denial sizzled in the pit of her gut like acid.

Like venom.

Him...

"Full..." she completes her sentence, resuming an indifferent expression as she lifts her head. She offers the sketchbook back to Deja, who takes it gratefully while readjusting her hold on Apollo.

"Right.." Deja chuckles in agreement, the soft sound making the woman's lips perk up into an interested smirk. Even more interested now.

"I'm Giselle" she offers the name casually and Deja nods in greeting.

"Deja." She responds, almost awkwardly and Giselle's smirk widens into a friendly smile.

"Deja... that's pretty. Sorry again if I startled you before. I have a habit of saying the first thing that comes to my mind." she fans off and Deja shakes her head.

"It's completely ok. Trust me."

Giselle nods sharply before giving Deja another quick once-over from head to toe with purpose and scrutiny.

She's young.

Pretty.

She knows him?

Thirsty

How?

She definitely
knows him

Smells good

Bitch..

Where is he?

I'll kill her

Jungkook

I bet she tastes good too

Thirsty

Want her

Want him...

Where is Jungkook?

"You live nearby?" she asks suddenly, cutting the barrage of voices now reminding her of her true nature despite the innocence in her gaze.

Apollo grumbles anxiously as he watched the strange woman's dazzling eyes subtly appraise his owner and she inhales the scent of his fear with a smile.

She senses Deja's hesitance to respond, remembering what it was like to be human and in the presence of a stranger.

"I'm only asking because of the time. It's kinda late for a walk don't you think?" She jokes as if she weren't out at a peculiar hour herself. Deja couldn't help but roll her eyes in embarrassment before glancing down at Apollo, who kept his eyes on Giselle.

"Girl...This damn dog. It wasn't planned. Lil fucker just took off after begging to poop. But yea Im not far. " she sighs and Giselle's soft laughter comes off more convincing than forced.

"Animals... So impulsive," she remarks, her smirk finally making the pup break eye contact in defeat.

"Well, I hope you make it home safely Deja. Perhaps we'll see each other around," she remarks, almost hopefully, and Deja couldn't help but sense a friendly yet flirtatious undertone to her statement. It made the apples of her cheeks tingle a bit in flattery as she nodded.

"Yeah..maybe. It's a big city though so who knows.." he chuckles and Giselle's lips perk into a suggestive smirk that entailed more than Deja could fathom.

Giselle, although dauntingly attractive, didn't pose a huge threat to Deja upon first impression. None more than any other unassuming woman she met on the street.

"Eh...Not big enough, apparently"
Her gaze drops to Deja's sketch pad, her tone then taking a cryptic turn that has Deja's brow creasing curiously at Giselle's distracted gaze.

After a beat, grey eyes lift to meet hazel.

"Good night." is all she says before turning away smoothly with her hands tucked in the pockets of her coat. She eyes Apollo ruefully one more time before tucking the same lock of hair tighter behind her ear and heading back in the direction she came.

Her heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, being the only sound apart from the distant cars peeling over wet concrete and crickets chirping from the bushes.

Deja watches her head up the sidewalk, catching the confident sway of her hips with an acknowledgeable envy before tucking Apollo and her sketchpad higher beneath her arms to turn in the opposite direction.

Once she's disappeared around the corner, the echoed clicking of heels falls silent.

Meanwhile...

Thirsty...

Go find her...

Enough wasting time...

Feed...

Want her...

Thirsty...

Jungkook moves with less coordination as he shook away the damned voices buzzing between his ears.

His steps were heavy and solemn against the sidewalk the further he was from Gerald's, occasionally leaning against the bricked walls of buildings as went.

He was happy to leave after finishing his coffee, begrudgingly of course, but it felt wrong not to be there.

As if something were trying to pull him back.

Thirsty...

"Why..." Jungkook whimpers aloud, aware that no one was around or close enough to hear him.

That grit-flavored caffeine pissed his thirst off more than he'd anticipated, resulting in a raging need for blood that became nearly impossible to suppress.

He inhales slowly, testing to see if the telltale burn would present itself but he felt nothing worth any alarm. Which wasn't surprising since he'd just fed only hours ago.

But something was off.

An intangible force pulled him by his throat like an alternate tether that led him further away from the diner. He tries to level his steps to avoid unnecessary attention, and he inhales sharply as he straightens his spine.

Thirsty...

"For what? We fed...." He trails off, glancing over his should self consciously as a car passes.

If he had a heartbeat, he'd be hearing it in his ears right now. He swallows down the pooling venom and clenches his teeth.

"Fuck.." he exhales.

Thirsty...

"I don't know what more ......you want.." He trails off when a scent has him halting at the mouth of an alley. He's compelled to inhale deeply and, his brow creased and twitched tiredly as he tested the air.

Something sweet. Something warm.

Something close.

He turns his head reluctantly and his pupils expand as he peered into the darkness ahead of him.

Steam and moonlight mixed in the depths of the wide alley, cluttered with rusted dumpers and cardboard boxes. From a human vantage point, that's all there is to be seen. But tucked behind one of the dumpsters, laying against a tattered twin-sized mattress that smelled of mildew and smoke was a man.

He had to have been between his late 50's and mid 60's. Unkept and malnourished with bare sore-ridden feet.

But his heartbeat is strong and his blood was clean.

Not a scent of drugs or alcohol.
Warm and healthy despite his appearance.

It's as if he teleported from the sidewalk to the puddle that rippled over the concrete only inches from where the man slept.

From the condition of his skin and the amount of facial hair, Jungkook had no idea

Jungkook stares at him intently, falling into a hole that nothing but his own weakened humanity could pull him from.

"Wha..." he exhales and the burden groan tickles the shell of his ear.

Kill...

His brow twitches at the word and his muscles tense with an off-putting combination of caution and excitement.

"What? Why? I fed...I'm not..." he responds in his head frantically but he's cut off by another groan of impatience.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

No one will know

No one will miss him...

He's old.

He's weak.

It'll be easy

Thirsty...

Kill.

"No..." Jungkook exhales but his protest is met by the resistance that brought him to his knees. He grunts in surprise at the sudden change in position and the brunt of the old man's scent hits him in the face.

No one is around...

Easy...

No one would know...

"No."

Jungkook's voice is firm, tainted by the strained growl of his thirst as he planted himself against the damp concrete.

The man stirs slightly but doesn't wake, much to Jungkook's relief. He remains planted though, fisting his pockets and clenching his jaw against the tingling in his gums.

He knew his body was replenished far beyond his normal intake. The blood Yoongi had saved for him could keep him satisfied for a while.

Theoretically.

But this need.

Burning in his chest and churning in his mind was deeper than blood.

Kill...

It almost presents to him as desperate mewl, impatient, and wanting. Jungkook swallows and his lips part ever so slightly to accommodate the descent of his upper canines.

He exhales.

Kill...

Kill...

Kill...

"No," he growls inwardly, this time with more conviction.

"He's innocent. He's helpless."

....and you're hopeless

Her voice blotched the ledger in his mind and Jungkook could practically hear her snarling in disgust as he backed away from the slumbering man.

Resentment guided his steps but shame kept his eyes locked on his former prey.

"Fuck you..." he huffs at the faceless beauty that still haunted him.

As he's turning away, another presence approaches him from behind suddenly. So distracted with restraining himself, Jungkook hadn't even noticed the scuffed footsteps and galloping heartbeat until the hard nose of a pistol is pressed against his spine.

"Don't fucking move" a shaky voice warns and it's no less intimidating than how Jungkook recalled the inconsistent pubescent tone of his mortal youth.

The cool steel is pressed firmer into his jacket and a moderately firm grip tightens over his shoulder. Jungkook's expression remains unaffected by the threat though.

He almost laughs at it, mostly at himself.

Here he was refraining from giving into a bloodlust that festered deep within a part of himself he barely knew.

Treading the line of life or death and here comes some idiot with a gun, offensively sweaty underarms, and a death wish.

Jungkook turns his head slightly.

"Seriously?" He sighs and the assailant squeezes his shoulder so harshly that if he were human, it might have hurt him. The nozzle of the gun is pressed harder into his back.

"I said... don't move.."

Jungkook sighs again.

"Let me guess. You're down on your luck. Times are hard and money is scarce. So you're desperate..." Jungkook begins casually and the mugger furrows his covered brow.

"I get it....but Im telling you, this is really not the path you wanna take." He finishes, ignoring the ravenous whispers of gore scraping at the dome of his skull.

He could kill him. At least he might feel less guilty about it later considering.

Feed.
Kill.

But Jungkook heard the fluttering rhythm of the mugger's heart and an unpleasant sweetness mixed with his blood to seep through his pores.

He was afraid.

"Shut up...j...just give me your wallet and empty your pockets..h..hurry up." The man seethes, his stutter merely confirming his fear.

Jungkook sighs again and with a roll of his eyes, he turns around abruptly to face the mugger fearlessly. As he does, his exaggerated brow of blackened gaze locks with the mugger, his fangs bared in a warning.

"The fuck?!" The startled gunman exclaims as he stumbles backward, tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground. As he hits it, the gun goes off accidentally in a flash of aimed light.

Jungkook barely flinches as hot pressure juts through his chest, and he glances down to find a bullet hole piercing through his sternum.

He frowns but it's more in wonder than shock.

Tanya told him they were invincible or immune to physical harm or pain, but less affected if they remained sufficiently fed. He'd never tested out the theory, although it crossed his mind a few times in the past.

But to be looking down at a hole in his chest, sliced through by a bullet that he could still smell the heat from, and it feel like virtually nothing.

Jungkook blinks and then glances up, finding the shooter staring back at him with eyes wide enough to see the full shape of his dark irises. He was masked from below his cheekbones and wearing a beanie to cover his head. His trembling hand still held the gun pointed at Jungkook's chest, but the longer the invulnerable male pinned him with his glare, the lower the gun's muzzle fell.

"What....what the hell..." the shooter mutters, his eyes now trailing from Jungkook's face to the obvious hole cutting straight through to the other side of his body.

Anger broils in Jungkook's chest and the iridescent flash at the back of his eyes stills the shooter. It's a look only seen when staring into the void of a predator's eyes as it watched you in the dark.

With clenched fists, Jungkook takes a step toward the mugger.

"You're a kid...a fucking kid.." Jungkook remarks, noting the size and pubescent scent still rolling off the young man. Couldn't have been more than 18.

Jungkook sighs, allowing the tension in his body to dissipate as he regained some control.

"Get out of here..." he huffs in exasperation and the shooter hesitates.

"Huh?" He says dubiously.

Suddenly a demonic growl rumbles up Jungkook's throat and darkness crosses over his eyes and brow as they locked with the cowering young male.

"GET OUT OF HERE! NOW..." he roars, and the scrawny ingrate scuffles back until he can scramble to his feet. Jungkook narrows his menacing gaze at him as he darted out of the alley to disappear around its corner.

"Fucking punk..." he scoffs, grimacing at the mild sting now singing in his chest from being shot.

He presses at the wound, coating his finger in the dark maroon fluid leaking from the hole.

As far as he knew, he wasn't alive, but he and others like him retained the ability to bleed when wounded. Perhaps the blood in his veins was no more than what remained of his last feed, mixing with venom and plasma.

He wasn't a doctor or a man of science, but it still intrigued him to feel the cold wetness of his wound soaking the material of his shirt. But as at any other time, Jungkook could already feel himself healing.

He sighs bitterly, lifting his finger to suck away the dead blood just as the shifting sound of movement has him freezing.

Jungkook turns slowly as the garbled sounds of struggle pull his attention to the man who lay still against the alley floors.

He's no longer sleeping but he's not completely conscious of what was happening to his body as warm blood spills and spurts from the bullet wound in his throat.

Jungkook blanches as realization swoops over him.

The bullet.

It must have gone straight through him and hit the poor defenseless man as he was sleeping.

"No..." Jungkook whispers, approaching the source tentatively.

The homeless man grunts and gasps, all while coughing up copious amounts of blood.

It runs over his mouth and chin, the scent of it traveling instantly to Jungkook's overactive senses.

FEED.
NOW.
WARM.
FRESH.
FEED

"Hel..help..."

A garbled plea sputters from the homeless man's lips, though his blurred vision could only pick up Jungkook's looming shadow.

The voices prevailed, relentless and obnoxious as ever, but the winded sound of the homeless man begging for his life went off like a land mine.

Without thinking, Jungkook goes to him and kneels beside his bed mat with concern and conflict etched on his brow.

"So much....too much..." he says to himself but his lips don't utter a word as he placed his hand at the man's throat.  For reasons unknown, Jungkook decided he would try to save him.

"Help....please.." he rasps again, his eyes fluttering as they rolled off focus and he applied pressure to the leaking hole, the flow of blood becoming less aggressive as the seconds passed.

But despite it, Jungkook held firm and prayed silently to a God he knew was no longer listening that he could make a difference in this stranger's survival. This was his fault after all.

If he hadn't been in the alley, the mugger wouldn't have mistaken him for an easy target. The gun would have never gone off and this man would live another day.

Jungkook had no idea what quality of life he must have had before, living cold and alone on the streets. But it was a life.

"Come on..." he exhales roughly, now squeezing the man's throat in almost a chokehold to stop the blood from escaping.

But to no avail.

He was suffering.
He was dying.

The man's breathing goes jagged, his heart rate slows, and his jaw falls slack.

"No...come on man..please..." Jungkook nearly sobs but no matter what he did, no matter how strong he was, there was nothing he could do to stall the inevitable.

If you feed now...

He won't have to die for nothing...

He wouldn't be in any pain...

There's still time.

Jungkook glances towards the street frantically, blinking rapidly at the sound voice in his head.

This wasn't the normal tone of his thirst.
The thirst's dialogue was staggered and broken. More barbaric and primal like the thoughts of an animal.

But this other consciousness was intentional. It was calculated and somewhat rational.

This was something else.

This was the killer's voice.

Just do it and it'll all be over for him.

It's the least you can do.

You owe him this...

Jungkook pants as he contemplated, glancing briefly toward the street before looking back down at the dying human beneath his hand.

His gums ached, and his mouth pooled with venom.

His pupils expanded and the prickle of his deathly scowl pulse with every heaping inhale of the blood coating his trembling fingers.

Do it.

Before it's too late.

After a few labored breaths, Jungkook shuts his eyes tight and leans into the mans leaking throat with his jaw slack. He did his best to keep his fangs from piercing his skin
but pressed his lips in to latch over the open artery.

Then he begins to suck.

The average human holds approximately 8 to 12 pints of blood, putting the average 200-pound 6-foot man at 1.5 gallons max.

Imagine that. Tipping over a gallon of milk and watching how fast it empties down a drain...

Or how fast you could drink a gallon of water in one sitting, highly discouraged by the way.

But if you had to...it wouldn't take long, would it?

It never took long for Jungkook. Something he could either attribute to his natural ability or what Tanya taught him about killing.

"Always make it quick. Never stall. Never hesitate...."

He growls bitterly at the sentiment despite him hastening his intake. Gulp after warm gulp, blood fresh from the body filled his.

Igniting and arousing his demon all at once. His eyes burst open, red and dilated with his prickled veins pulsing as they always did during a feed.

It was disgusting how much he knew his body enjoyed this more than the consumption itself and he's teleported back to a bleak chapter of his new existence when this was all he knew.

Flesh and venom, dancing between his lips and tongue as he pulled every bit of life from someone he'd tried to forget. If he could cry, tears would be brimming in his primal gaze as he knew it would be over soon.

The poor mortal's heart stops and the flow of his blood slows to a resistant stream as Jungkook sucked his corpse dry of every drop.

He pulls away with a gasp and he pants huskily as the haze swam around him in waves of heat and color.

For once, his thirst was quiet and seemingly sated but his guilt pounded heavily the more the fog lifted.

He looks at the motionless male inches away from his face with lifeless eyes that had to have opened as Jungkook fed from him.

But Jungkook knew better than to look into the eyes of the dead. He looks away somberly but decides that leaving him there like this wouldn't sit right with him.

So very carefully, Jungkook readjusts the man's position and lays him flat on his back. He covers immediately with the tattered blanket that was pulled from his weakened grip and a swelling sense of grief overcomes Jungkook.

"I'm sorry..." he whispers, pulling the blanket over the male's face and shielding the lifeless gaze that no doubt would visit him when the sun came up.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...." he repeats.

Jungkook lifts his head to survey the mouth of the alley. The streets are quiet and he hears no one nearby that seems interested in turning down his alley, let alone anyone who heard what happened.

With a speed only he could manage, Jungkook vanished into the night and puts as much space between himself and what he'd just done.

Upon returning to his apartment just as the birds began to sing, he had to constantly remind himself that he didn't kill that man.

The ice-cold water ran over his head, washing what lingered of his mess in diluted streams of red and maroon down his body. He watches it swirl down the drain hopelessly and he lifts his hand to run his fingers over what used to be a gaping hole.

He rubs the spot mindlessly, allowing his eyes to fall shut as he let the water drown out everything that wasn't his sorrow.

Although if Jungkook hadn't been there, that innocent man would most likely still be breathing and the tinge of his blood wouldn't still be lingering at the back of his throat.

He would have died anyway.

Tonight.

Tomorrow.

Ten years from now...

Inevitable.

Jungkook scoffs at the remorseless voice's attempt at reason.

The darkness of his bleak apartment was the only comfort he could claim as he trudged over the creaking floors. Starkly naked, still dripping and defeated, Junkook found his way to his bed and made himself one with the cheap threads now covering his shell.

And the voice prevailed, lulling him to sleep with its semi-comforting mantra that Jungkook had no choice but to accept now that what was done, was done.

It was necessary...

He was losing too much blood.
and it didn't matter if help came along minutes after.

He was dead either way.

He would have suffered, cold and alone and filthy alley.

It was necessary.

It was necessary.

It was necessary.