42 days. A new dawn awaits us (UnHo/Junsoo)
The moon looked out modestly because of the thick heavy clouds, shed light on the sad lands of the ancient country, long immersed in the darkness of superstitions and past wars. Transylvania's dreary face captured the scars of unhappy nature, which were destroyed by axes and fire, and soaked in the human blood of those who died in the senseless war for God.
"A betrayer of God who curses his faithful children".
The dull air hasn't moved since the first arrival of the army to these lands, so it is soaked in rotten and dryness, burning the lungs that were tormented for many years. They were soaked in the poison of this damn country that every breath brought unthinkable pain that no man can cope with.
"But I'm not human anymore".
On a pale face, devoid of paint, lies a shadow of an evil ruthless smile, which became a double-edged blade, which ruthlessly walked on the remnants of the rotting soul. To torment himself was the best entertainment for an immortal being because listening to the fierce groans of his night companions is more unbearable.
"I'm tired of living like this".
Can you call it life? Is this miserable, sluggish existence on a damned dying land that has been soaked in the darkness of his own curse, maybe life? He can only laugh loudly, exposing the sharp fangs that shine white, and stretching his exsanguinated lips in the shard. He wanders through the earth of the past, recreating images of happy days of life around him. When there were goals, faith. Love. When the soul trembled and was full of light almost like the sun - bright and hot, which he was ready to give everyone. He gave away everything, leaving himself a tightening void. The sun had left him forever. Now the path in the blizzard could only illuminate the cold disk of the distant moon.
Until this happened.
Until on the threshold of his terrible castle, a young notary with a gentle look and a tender smile, kind laughter and friendly words, which did not have any fear or reproach, appeared carrying life and light.
"Lord Junsoo"
One treatment caused a long-forgotten trepidation, which gave rise to a feeling of warmth at the tips of the fingers and cheeks. He hid an almost insane, greedy look and hid from the living in the endless corridors of his own home, which had long been a cage. The torture began to encounter this man every day in the halls immersed in the evening darkness, where danced shadows, enveloped in the warmth of candlelight. In their flaming flames, it seemed that all his ugliness came out, and the animal wild appearance fell over the human mask.
"Don't you dare touch him," he sizzled at his dirty servants, who could smell hot blood under his dark, soft skin as well. But their hunger was different from his - they only needed food that was real, not fake, in the form of small game blood. He had to live his life.
He wanted to live as he had done before. As a man with dreams, hopes, and love. They took away everything they could from him, and the burning need for it was torn from the inside.
"Junsoo"
With this name, the Lord began to fall asleep before dawn and wake up with this name on his trembling lips before dusk. It penetrated the consciousness, forcing him to think only of himself: a beautiful deep voice, thin wrists, and strong hands, a strong wide back, black soft hair, a sweet long neck ... In which so much wanted to stab his fangs, so that life finally rushed into his dead soul, filling it with echoes of distant happiness.
But still, something stops him before it. Conscience? Ha, she bent down with the faith in God, whom he so faithfully loved. Rather, the same feelings - admiration, tenderness, trembling, which are intertwined in one thing that holds the immortal hungry monster on the chain.
But they are short-lived. And yet their hands shiver, wrapping around powerful shoulders, pressing against a strong body. Eyes shine madly, catching fear and impatience in someone else's darkened eyes. The tongue slides too often over the dry lips of your lips, which are tired again and again touched the warm skin. That's what's so necessary for a lost creature.
And the only thing that Junsoo, who has lost power over himself, can say is quiet and almost pleading:
- Forgive me.
The fangs cross a fine line separating life from death, and its hot stream rushed to the fading flower of another's soul, gradually restoring the dried petals that once shone with whiteness. The wheezing breath above the ear becomes slower and the skin under cold hands becomes pale.
- You won't die, my YoonHo," JunSu whispers, touching the bloody lips of his tall forehead, leaving a hot imprint. - A new life awaits you. Where the earth does not need graves, and our happiness will last forever.