ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ ꜰꜰ (ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀᴜ) xx reader BTS Fanfic
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
╋━ summary: Alice(you) was once an innocent, kind-hearted girl, bullied relentlessly at school and abused by her father while neglected by her mother. Quiet and withdrawn, she never fought back—until she met Taehyung, a vampire who changed everything. When he turned her, Alice’s true nature emerged: sociopathic, cunning, and fiercely ambitious, hiding a brutal, manipulative personality behind a flawless, alluring facade.
Together, they became unstoppable. Taehyung taught her to embrace power, fearlessness, and revenge. Using her intelligence, charm, and newfound abilities, Alice meticulously made those who tormented her pay for their cruelty. But vengeance and darkness are never simple, and along the way, an intense, complicated romance blossoms between them and someone else
A gripping story of trauma, transformation, and the intoxicating lure of power and love.
Side note: you will play as Alice in the story.
╋━ Genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, supernatural/ Paranormal, Drama.
╋━ Warnings: 18+ verbal and physical),Emotional abuse,Physical abuse/domestic violence, Alcohol and drug use,Mental health struggles (depression, isolation),Strong language, bullying/harassment, sexual assault, dark themes, Death/Supernatural violence, su!c!dal thoughts…and love triangle…please read with care
Cast Members : Park Alice, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, park Jimin, Min Yoongi, Kim namjoon, Kim seok-Jin, Jung Ho-seok, Kim Jennie, park rose, Kim Jisoo, Lalisia, Woo do hwan, Cha eun, Kim Ji-won, Lee Soo-hyuk, Bae Suzy, Choi San, Go Min-si, Baek Ah-Jin, Heo In-gang
═══════ ═══════ ═══════ ══════
Alice learned early that silence was safer.
Silence didn’t provoke questions.
Silence didn’t invite hands.
Silence didn’t make people notice her.
At seventeen, she had perfected it.
She sat in the back row of her classroom, shoulders slightly hunched, dark hair falling like a curtain around her face. Her notebook lay open, untouched. The words on the board blurred together, white chalk bleeding into nothing.
Laughter rippled through the room.
“Hey, Alice,” a voice called from two rows up. Sweet. Fake. The kind that always came before something sharp. “You gonna talk today, or you saving your voice for your imaginary friends again?”
Alice kept her eyes down.
Her hands curled slowly into fists beneath the desk.
This had been her life for as long as she could remember—being present but never treated as human. She wasn’t loud enough, pretty enough, rich enough, or cruel enough to survive the ecosystem of high school. She existed somewhere between target and entertainment.
“Oops,” the same girl laughed. “My bad.”
The teacher didn’t look up.
Alice swallowed. Her throat burned, but she forced the feeling down, packing it away where everything else lived—fear, anger, grief. She told herself the same thing she always did.
Just make it through the day.
She stared out the window, absently spinning her pencil between her fingers, wishing she were stronger. Wishing someone—anyone—would see her.
Save her from the quiet misery that followed her everywhere.
That night, she walked home alone.
Her shoes scraped against cracked pavement, each step heavy. The sky above her was dull and gray, clouds hanging so low they felt like they might crush the world flat.
She didn’t notice the bruise forming on her arm yet.
The front door creaked open.
The house smelled of cigarette smoke and something sour—alcohol, maybe. Her stomach twisted.
Her father’s voice echoed from the living room.
She closed the door carefully, her heart pounding. “School ran—”
His hand came fast, cutting her off before she could finish.
Her head snapped to the side, heat blooming across her cheek.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled. “You think I don’t know what kind of girl you are?”
Her mother sat on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered automatically, a tear slipping free.
That was her role—to apologize for existing.
Her father grabbed her arm, fingers digging in too tight. “You’re useless,” he spat. “Just like your mother.”
Her mother flinched—but still said nothing.
Alice learned something important that night.
There was no rescue coming.
When she finally locked herself in her room, she slid down the door and pressed her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying. The walls were thin. Everything in that house listened.
She lifted her gaze to the mirror across the room.
At the girl staring back.
“I won’t always be this,” she whispered.
But she didn’t believe it.
She forced herself up and stepped into the shower, letting the water run over her skin. She moved slowly, methodically, washing away the day as her fingers threaded through her hair. A quiet sigh escaped her lips, swallowed by the steam.
Her eyes drifted down to her arms.
The bruise stood out against her skin—another mark she hadn’t asked for. She rubbed at it absentmindedly, as if pressure alone could erase it.
The water turned cold without warning.
She shut the shower off and stood there, dripping, staring blankly at the wall. Her chest felt tight, heavy with thoughts she didn’t have words for.
Some days, the weight felt unbearable.
Some days, simply existing felt like failure.
And yet—she wrapped a towel around herself, stepped out, and kept going.
Because somehow, even now, she was still here.
She dressed slowly, pulling an oversized shirt over her body, the long hem swallowing her frame and hiding what felt too fragile to show. She tucked her long hair behind her ear with trembling fingers.
Bare feet padded softly against the cold floor.
She dragged herself down the hall, shoulders slumped, and pushed open the door to her bedroom. The room was cold, dim, the sun sinking low and staining the walls in fading orange light.
She sat at her desk and pulled out her diary.
Inside, she had written every name.
Every person who had hurt her. Every person who had laughed, touched, pushed, or stayed silent. She poured her feelings onto the pages—anger, resentment, pain—words sharp with the wish that they would one day feel even a fraction of what she carried every day.
As she wrote, memories flooded back in brutal clarity.
Minsi—always mocking her, always waiting for the next chance. Shoving her in bathroom stalls. Pouring water over her head while others watched and laughed.
Kim Ji-won—never alone. Always with Minsi. Their words cutting, their hands cruel.
San—Minsi’s boyfriend. Part of it all. Teasing her, cornering her, smiling when she shrank away in discomfort.
Lee Soo-hyuk—hands where they never should have been. Touches she never asked for. Boundaries ignored.
Bae Suzy—another face in the crowd. Another laugh added to the noise.
And then there were her parents.
Her father—violence disguised as authority, anger disguised as discipline.
Her mother—watching. Always watching. Never stepping in. Telling her, again and again, that she wished she had never been born.
Alice closed the notebook and let out a slow breath.
She looked at herself in the mirror—her face blank, eyes dull, expression hollow. Somewhere deep inside, she clung to the quiet hope that one day, they would all face what they had done.
She moved to her bed, her body heavy, and curled into herself beneath the covers.
The kind of crying no one ever hears.
I wake up slowly, my body heavy and reluctant, eyes swollen from another night I couldn’t stop crying. I stare at the ceiling for a moment, letting the shadows settle around me, before pushing myself upright.
Dragging my feet, I shuffle to my wardrobe and pull out my uniform—white blouse,blue skirt, blue vest, blue-and-red bow at my neck, my name tag pinned neatly to the side. I slide my socks on carefully, feeling each cold thread against my skin, then put on my black shoes, lacing them just tight enough to feel secure.
In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face, the cold water shocking me awake for a moment. I grab the elastic on my wrist and pull my hair tight before tying it back, keeping it out of my face—out of sight, like I always try to be.
I go back to my room to pack my school bag, each movement mechanical, slow. Every step feels heavy, weighted down by the thought of leaving—but also by the thought of going back to everything that waits.
Walking past the living room, I see him—Dad—passed out on the couch, his presence filling the space even in silence. Mom is at the sink, scrubbing dishes, her movements brisk and mechanical. Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second, and she rolls hers at me.
Nothing is said. Nothing needs to be.
I nod slightly and keep moving. I’ve learned that day-to-day survival doesn’t require words—it only requires getting through, step by step, until the walls stop pressing so hard.
I grab my bag and leave the apartment quietly, keeping my head down as I step into the cool morning air. The streets are empty, but my chest feels heavy as if everyone’s eyes are on me, even when they’re not. Each step toward school is slow, careful—like I’m walking through a minefield no one else can see.
By the time I reach school, the hallways are already bustling, but I stay close to the walls, avoiding the main streams of students. I know the drill: keep my head down, don’t make eye contact, don’t give them a reason.
But even with precautions, I can feel it coming. I always do.
I walk into class and sit quietly. No one ever pays attention to me—unless I’m the one being picked on.
Minsi and San sit next to each other, whispering. His hand slowly slides up her leg, and she giggles under her breath.
Kim Ji‑won and Bae Suzy talk about their plans for the weekend, laughing like they own the world.
Then there’s Lee Soo‑hyuk.
He winks, dragging his tongue slowly across his lips.
My eyes drop instantly. My fingers tighten around my wrist, nails pressing into my skin. I hear him chuckle before he turns back around, talking to San like nothing happened.
I hate everything about them.
But there’s nothing I can do. I’m not strong. I’m not brave enough to face them.
The teacher finally walks in, greeting the class. Everyone responds in unison.
A few minutes pass, and suddenly my stomach cramps. The pain hits hard, sharp enough to make me flinch. I’d hoped it wouldn’t start yet, but it did.
I glance at the clock. Ten more minutes until the bell. I could wait it out… but every minute that passes makes the pain worse.
My hands shake as I slowly raise one.
The teacher pauses. “Yes, Alice?”
Every head turns toward me.
“Can I go to the nurse’s office?” I ask quietly, holding my stomach. I can feel the stares. I can hear the whispers.
“Can you wait until class is over?” Her expression is stern.
I hesitate, then nod slightly, wishing the pain would just disappear.
I hear Minsi whisper, “What’s her problem?”
Ji‑won mutters under her breath, “Weird bitch.”
I lower my head onto the desk, trying to focus on anything else—anything to make the cramps stop. The moment the bell rings, I grab my things and stand quickly, heading for the door.
My body trembles at his touch. Memories flash in my head—his hands, his forced closeness, the feeling of being trapped.
He slips something into my shirt pocket, winks, and walks away, joining the others as they smirk back at me.
When they’re gone, I let out the breath I’d been holding and pull out the note with shaking fingers.
My stomach twists. I shouldn’t go.
But I know if I don’t… it’ll be worse later.
I grip the straps of my backpack tightly and force myself down the hallway.
The gym is empty when I arrive. My footsteps echo across the floor.
And there they are—Minsi, Kim Ji‑won, Bae Suzy, and San. I can feel their eyes on me before I even look up.
“Finally,” Minsi sneers. “I was getting bored.”
I don’t answer. I don’t dare. My fists clench at my sides, trembling.
Kim Ji‑won steps forward with a smirk. Suzy laughs behind her. San leans against the wall, watching, waiting for the moment I flinch.
They corner me near the bleachers. There’s no one else here. No teacher. No friend. No escape.
“Don’t look so scared,” Minsi says, pushing me lightly. I stumble but don’t fall.
“Did you enjoy your little moment with Soo‑hyuk?” Ji‑won mocks, shoving my shoulder.
Soo‑hyuk’s voice comes from behind me. “Was it good?”
I don’t turn around. I can feel the tears building in my eyes.
All the memories hit at once—the water in the bathroom, the whispers, the shoves in the hallway. I want to fight. I want to scream. But the words get stuck in my throat.
“I heard you told the nurse about us,” Minsi says. “That you accused us of hurting you. Is that true?”
It is. I told the nurse, but I never expected her to say anything—let alone tell them.
“You know she called my parents,” Minsi laughs.
“But it won’t matter. Unlike your parents, ours actually care about us. My father puts a lot into this school. There’s nothing you can do.”
She jabs her finger into my chest. “You understand that, right?”
I nod, stumbling back slightly.
Minsi holds out her hand. Suzy hands her phone over. A video plays on the screen.
A video of me and Soo‑hyuk.
“So don’t think you can hide from us,” Suzy hisses. “We see you everywhere. We own you.”
I press my back against the cold wall, trying to make myself small—like I could disappear if I tried hard enough. My chest pounds. My hands shake.
Minsi steps closer, her smile sharp. “Don’t worry, Alice. We’ll make sure everyone remembers who you are.”
I close my eyes and force myself to breathe.
Then the sound of the gym doors opening startles everyone. A teacher’s voice echoes down the hall.
They scatter, hissing insults as they leave, each one throwing a final smirk in my direction.
“See you later” Minsi say smiling softly
I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor, my back pressed against the cold surface. The tears come quietly.
She moved through the halls unnoticed unless someone wanted to hurt her. She ate lunch alone. She learned how to disappear in plain sight—how to make herself small enough not to invite attention.
But pain has a way of accumulating.
Each insult stacked on another. Each slap, each shove, each word meant to carve her down. It all layered itself inside her, forming something dense and heavy.
At home it was always the same the constant beatings and the hateful things out of her mother’s mouth. She wakes from dreams soaked in sweat, memories clawing their way up from the dark. High school lockers slamming shut. Her father’s breath in her ear. Her mother’s silence screaming louder than any blow.
She started staying out late—not because she had anywhere to go, but because being home felt worse. She wandered the city streets, headphones in, music loud enough to drown out her thoughts.
That’s when the feeling started.
The feeling of being watched.
At first, she told herself she was imagining it. Trauma does that. Makes shadows stretch longer than they should.
But sometimes, when she glanced at dark alleyways or reflective windows, she swore she saw movement.
Yet that feeling didn’t scare her.
Because whatever it was she wished it could kill her now.
It had been weeks, yet the feeling was still there—like someone was close, watching. Near, yet impossibly far.
In class, I stare out the window and swear I see someone standing behind the trees. A presence. A shadow. I force my eyes away, sliding my hair behind my ear. Earbuds in, music low, I tap my pencil against my notebook to ground myself.
I keep staring, lost in my thoughts.
My leg bounces under the desk as I look down at my diary.
Suddenly, a hand yanks my earbuds out.
I look up to see Ms. Lee standing over me, her expression sharp with irritation.
“I’ve been calling your name,” she snaps, “and you still haven’t answered.”
Every eye in the classroom turns toward me.
“Sorry,” I mumble instantly, already regretting it.
“Yeah, sorry,” Ms. Lee repeats. “Why don’t you come up here and finish this problem.”
Snickers ripple through the room. From the corner of my eye, I see Minsi smirk.
I dig my nails into my palm and, with reluctant steps, walk to the front of the class.
The problem on the board is massive—numbers stacked on numbers, symbols I barely recognize. Fractions, variables, steps I can’t even begin to remember.
I grip the chalk tighter, but my fingers feel numb. My mind goes blank—completely, painfully empty. I know everyone is watching. I can feel it. Waiting. Expecting me to fail.
Ms. Lee shifts beside me. She senses it. She knows.
I don’t know how to do this.
I never was good at math.
With an irritated sigh, she snatches the chalk from my hand. “Next time, pay attention,” she says sharply.
Then, under her breath—but not quiet enough—she mutters, “Useless.”
The word punches a hole straight through my chest.
Even the teacher thinks I’m useless.
I step back, my vision blurring, and turn toward my seat. Minsi and her friends are already smiling, pleased, satisfied.
As I walk past them, a foot sticks out.
My head slams into the edge of a desk before I hit the floor. Pain explodes behind my eyes, white and dizzying.
I sit there on the floor, my palm pressed to my head, staring at shoes and chair legs, listening to the laughter like I’m some kind of joke. Like this is entertainment.
My chest feels too tight to breathe.
I push myself up and bolt for the door.
I don’t hear the teacher call after me.
I run down the stairs, heart pounding, tears blinding me, one hand still pressed to my head. I shove the heavy back doors open and burst outside, the cold air hitting my face as I run—run like I’m trying to outrun everything.
The word useless echoing in my head.
I don’t know why I run this way, only that my legs carry me without thinking—past the back doors, past the fence, and straight into the woods behind the school. There are trails here, half-hidden paths students aren’t supposed to take. I don’t slow down.
Branches scrape at my arms. My lungs burn. My chest aches.
I keep running until my legs finally give out.
I stumble to a stop near a small clearing and spot a worn wooden bench tucked between the trees. I collapse onto it, my body shaking as the sobs finally break free.
I lift my hand from my head.
Blood coats my fingers, warm and sticky, and my stomach twists. I press my palm back against the wound, trying to steady my breathing, trying to quiet myself.
I try to muffle my cries.
The woods feel too quiet—no birds, no wind. Just me and the sound of my own broken breathing.
My heart stutters. I freeze, every muscle locking as I stare into the trees. The shadows between the trunks feel wrong—too deep, too still, like the forest itself is holding its breath.
A blur cuts through the trees, higher than it should be, faster than my eyes can track. Leaves lift violently, spiraling into the air as if something passed straight through them instead of around them. I blink hard, my vision swimming, and look again.
No footsteps. No snapping branches.
Just my breathing—ragged, loud, betraying me.
I clutch the edge of the bench, my fingers slick with blood, and force myself to look around. My instincts scream at me to run, but my legs won’t move.
I don’t know what this is.
And I’ve never been this scared.
The air feels colder now, heavier. Like something unseen is circling me, moving just beyond where I can see. I turn my head slowly, scanning the trees, the shadows, the empty spaces where something should be.
The word barely leaves my lips before the world shifts.
The air beside me changes—pressure, presence, wrongness.
Every nerve in my body screams as something stands next to me, close enough that the cold seems to seep into my skin. I don’t dare look at first. My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else.
As if he’s always been there.
And I know—deep in my bones—that whatever is standing beside me is not human.
He stands just a few steps away.
He’s dressed in black—head to toe. A fitted turtleneck hugs his frame beneath a tailored blazer, its sharp structure giving him an unnervingly precise silhouette. Nothing about him looks casual. Everything looks intentional. Controlled. Like he belongs to the dark rather than simply wearing it.
A thin gold chain rests against the black fabric at his throat, the pendant catching what little light slips through the trees. On one hand, a dark ring sits heavy against pale skin, a deep red jewel embedded at its center—too dark to be just decorative. It glints faintly, like something alive beneath the surface.
His skin is unnaturally pale. Not sickly—cold. Smooth. Untouched by warmth.
They lock onto me, deep and intent. Brown, but not ordinary brown. Warm. Honeyed. Too warm for a face this still. His lashes are long and dark, framing a gaze that doesn’t flicker, doesn’t rush—just studies. Patient. Heavy. Like I’m something he’s been waiting for.
I jolt backward, scrambling to my feet, a sharp cry tearing from my throat.
Instead, his gaze drags slowly over me—from the blood on my hand, to my shaking knees, back up to my face. Then, impossibly smooth, he straightens to his full height.
A slow smile curves his lips—not kind. Not cruel. Knowing.
“Careful,” he says softly. “You’re hurt.”
He clasps his hands behind his back and takes a single step toward me.
I’d forgotten about the blood. About the pain. Until now.
I step back. “Stay away from me.”
The air between us tightens.
I move again. So does he.
My back hits a tree, rough bark digging into my spine. There’s nowhere else to go.
“I’ve been watching you,” he says.
Not threatening. Not gentle.
My heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s screaming.
“You don’t belong in that place,” he continues, his eyes flicking briefly toward the direction of the school. “They’ve broken you.”
Tears spill down my face before I can stop them. “You don’t know me.”
For the first time, he pauses.
“I know enough,” he says quietly. “Enough to know you’re not weak.”
“You’re just surrounded by people who want you to believe you are.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
Something ancient settles into his expression. Something dangerous. Calm. Unmoving.
“My name,” he says, “is Taehyung.”
The woods fall completely silent.
And for the first time, the presence I’ve been feeling for weeks doesn’t feel distant anymore.
It’s standing right in front of me.
Alice stood frozen beneath the trees, her back pressed to rough bark, her breath shallow and uneven. The air around him felt different—colder, heavier—like the forest itself was bending inward, listening.
Taehyung watched her in silence.
Up close, his eyes were wrong. Still warm brown, still human at a glance—but when the light shifted, they caught something else beneath the surface. A faint gleam. Honeyed and dark, reflecting more than they should. As if they were pulling her in rather than simply looking at her.
From the cold that seemed to radiate from him.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he said quietly. “That pull. That sense that something isn’t right.”
She swallowed, nodding despite herself.
Time felt strange around him. The seconds stretched and folded in on themselves, like the moment refused to move forward unless he allowed it. The woods were silent—too silent. Even her heartbeat felt muted, distant.
“You’ve been given two paths,” Taehyung continued, his voice calm, controlled. “Most people never realize they have a choice.”
He took one slow step closer—not threatening, not rushed.
“I didn’t have a choice, but you can.”
“You can let things stay the same,” he said. “Endure. Survive. Fade quietly into the life they’ve decided you deserve.”
Her fingers curled at her sides.
“Or,” he went on, eyes darkening, “you can change.”
The word settled deep in her chest.
“You can take vengeance,” he said. “You can become something they can’t touch. Something they can’t break.”
“To change,” he added softly, “is to lose the girl you were.”
“To stay the same,” he finished, “is to lose yourself anyway.”
She stared at him, fear and desperation twisting together inside her. “Why are you telling me this?”
A faint smile curved his lips. “Because you’re standing at the edge already.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then he tilted his head slightly. “Would you like to see something?”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Before she could stop herself, she whispered, “What?”
His smirk deepened—slow, deliberate. He extended his hand toward her, palm up.
She didn’t know if she could trust him. She didn’t know if he meant to save her… or end her. But when she searched herself for reasons to refuse, she found none.
There was nothing left to lose.
With trembling fingers, Alice placed her hand in his.
His skin was cold. Not unpleasant—just unnatural.
He didn’t move right away. He held her hand there, steady, his gaze locked onto hers as if memorizing her.
In one smooth motion, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
She yelped in surprise, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Hold on,” he murmured against her ear.
And then the world broke.
The forest exploded into motion.
Trees blurred past them at impossible speed, the ground vanishing beneath his feet as he ran—no, glided—through the woods. The wind roared in her ears as he leapt effortlessly, landing on tree trunks, pushing off them like gravity was optional.
Her stomach dropped as he vaulted upward, higher and higher, until the ground was far below them.
In seconds—seconds that felt like both nothing and forever—they reached a cliff overlooking the forest.
Taehyung slowed as if nothing extraordinary had happened and gently set her back on her feet.
Alice staggered, backing away, her heart racing, her legs shaking.
She stared at him in shock.
At the calm in his expression.
At the faint, inhuman gleam still lingering in his eyes.
“What… are you?” she breathed.
And the night seemed to lean closer, listening.
The wind stirred around them, tugging at Alice’s hair as she stared at him, her heart still racing from what she’d just seen.
Taehyung watched her carefully.
“You’re wondering what I am,” he said, his voice low, almost indulgent. “Not who. What.”
She nodded, unable to look away.
“I exist between moments,” he continued, taking a step closer. “Between heartbeats. Time bends around me because it has learned to.” His gaze softened slightly. “I don’t age. I don’t weaken. And I don’t forget.”
The air felt colder as he spoke, but not uncomfortable—like stepping into shade after standing too long in the sun.
“I drink blood,” he said simply, watching her reaction. “Not for pleasure. For survival. For strength.” A pause. “And for control.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t step back.
“I’ve lived long enough to see what humans do to one another,” Taehyung went on. “Cruelty doesn’t shock me. Fear doesn’t interest me.” His eyes settled on her. “But resilience does.”
She swallowed. “What does that have to do with me?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Because you’re already standing on the edge of becoming something else.”
“You can stay as you are,” he said. “And let them keep hurting you. Or you can change. Become stronger. Untouchable.”
Her hands trembled—not with fear this time, but with something sharper.
“Once it happens,” he added, his voice dropping, “there is no going back. No halfway. No regret that can undo it.”
She looked at him, really looked at him.
“I want to change,” Alice said. Her voice didn’t waver. “I want to be stronger. I want them to feel what they did to me.”
Taehyung searched her face, as if looking for doubt.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “This path costs you everything you were.”
She nodded. “That’s what I want.”
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he inclined his head. “Very well,” he murmured. “I’ll show you my world.”
He held out his hand again.
This time, she didn’t hesitate.
Alice placed her hand in his, steady now, unafraid. He pulled her gently into his arms, one arm secure around her back.
Before she could speak, he leapt.
The cliff vanished beneath them.
Alice gasped, instinctively pressing her face into his chest, her arms tightening around his neck as they plunged downward. The rush of air screamed past them, her stomach lurching as they fell—
They were standing safely at the base of the cliff, untouched, as if the fall had never happened.
Taehyung set her down carefully, his hand lingering in hers, his grip gentle now.
They walked through the woods at an unhurried pace, the forest no longer feeling hostile—just quiet.
“What do you think of me?” he asked after a while.
Alice hesitated, then smiled nervously. “I think… you’re amazing.”
His lips curved faintly. “Dangerous answer.”
She let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “I don’t think you’re dangerous to me.”
He glanced at her, something unreadable passing through his eyes. “We’ll see.”
When they reached the road, a black SUV waited there, engine idling.
Two tall, pale men stood beside it, unmoving. Each wore a dark ring—identical to Taehyung’s—its red jewel catching the light.
They’re like him, she realized.
Taehyung noticed her pause. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and continued forward.
One of the men opened the back door for them. The other slipped into the driver’s seat. Moments later, the second man entered the passenger side.
Alice sat back, heart pounding.
She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into—but for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of what came next.
No music. No conversation. Just the low hum of the engine and the soft hiss of tires against wet pavement.
I looked down at my feet and froze.
My book bag sat on the floor between my shoes.
My chest tightened. I hadn’t brought it with me. I remembered leaving it in the forest—back where I’d met him, where everything had shifted. How… how had it ended up here?
Taehyung noticed the confusion in my eyes. “I had my men bring it back to you,” he said quietly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I nodded slowly, clutching the strap. My hands shook. My thoughts felt scattered, my head still foggy from the adrenaline and the blood that had trailed me.
I glanced out the window. Rain had begun to fall, drizzling first, then heavier, streaking the glass. The sky was gray, low, and heavy, pressing down on the world.
I could feel the men in the front seats—watching me. Not overtly, but with a presence that made my skin prickle. Like predators who didn’t need to look at their prey to know where it was.
Taehyung’s gaze shifted slightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black handkerchief. Without a word, he pressed it into my palm.
“For your head,” he murmured.
I stiffened. The blood. I’d forgotten it entirely. My scalp throbbed where the wound had opened again. My stomach twisted. The scent must have reached them. Must have called to them.
I swallowed hard. This was insane. Everything about this was insane.
But beneath the fear, beneath the uncertainty… something sharper burned in me.
I was done being small. Done being weak. Done being invisible.
If becoming a monster meant never being powerless again, I didn’t care. I would accept it.
I looked up. Confusion twisted in my chest. There were no buildings. No streetlights. No passing cars.
Endless, towering trees, their branches tangled like they were hiding something just for us.
One of the men stepped out and opened the door. He bowed slightly as Taehyung exited first.
He turned to me and held out his hand.
I hesitated. Only for a second.
Then I placed my hand in his.
“Where are we?” I asked, my voice small.
He looked at me with those eyes—honeyed, deep, almost too aware—and said, simply:
We walked, the other man trailing behind us as the SUV disappeared into the distance. The deeper we went, the quieter it became.
A narrow stone path appeared beneath our feet, worn smooth by centuries of passage. The trees pressed close on both sides, branches arching overhead to form a canopy. Light barely filtered through. The air was damp, heavy, and smelled faintly of earth and moss.
At the end of the path, a gate of black iron rose before us. Beyond it, a gothic mansion loomed, dark stone, sharp towers, windows narrow and watching. The gates creaked open on their own as Taehyung stepped forward.
Inside, an ornate gazebo stood among manicured hedges, twisting metal vines climbing its columns. At the center, a dark statue seemed almost alive, frozen mid-motion, reaching toward something unseen.
This place didn’t welcome. It claimed.
The doors of the mansion opened before we reached them. The man behind us held them, silent, watching.
I lowered my head slightly and stepped inside.
The room stole my breath. Ceilings soared impossibly high. Black marble and shadows stretched along the walls. A chandelier glowed warmly above, reflecting on the polished floors. Black leather sofas and low tables created a strange, cozy center, but it did nothing to ease the cold weight pressing down from the walls.
The fire flickered, but it didn’t chase away the shadows.
And somewhere deep in my chest, beneath the fear, something stirred.
Like I had finally stepped into the place I was meant to find.
I looked around, taking in the massive room, the shadows clinging to the corners, the firelight flickering across dark stone walls.
Taehyung’s presence filled the space, pulling my attention like gravity. He walked slowly toward the couch, his movements smooth, deliberate, almost hypnotic.
“There are others like me,” he said quietly, eyes scanning the room as if the shadows themselves answered him. “Some… good. Some… not. The world I live in…” He paused, turning his gaze to me, and I felt it like a weight pressing against my chest. “…comes with rules. Rules that must be followed. Rules we live by.”
“We?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
He nodded, not taking his eyes off me. “Yes… we. My family. I do not live here alone.” A faint smile touched his lips, cold and knowing. “And you’ll meet them soon.”
I shivered involuntarily. The thought of meeting others like him—immortal, powerful, predatory—made my stomach twist.
“What… what are the rules?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
He moved to the table, his fingers brushing over something metallic until he lifted a slender, sharp blade. It glinted in the dim light. I flinched instinctively.
“One rule we follow,” he said softly, almost reverently, “is never to take an innocent life.”
He let the knife rest on the table again, turning to face me. “We’re not like the vampires the humans fear in their stories. We only feed on those who deserve it. Those who have hurt, corrupted, or destroyed. Innocents are off-limits. Weak, harmless… the innocent are protected.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.
Another rule, he said, unspoken but clear in the way he moved: control. Every movement, every thought, must be measured. To lose control is to become the thing you despise.
“And,” he continued, taking a slow step toward me, “we do not interfere with one another without reason. There is a hierarchy, a balance. Chaos is… dangerous. Order is survival.”
My pulse raced as he stopped just a few feet away. His eyes, honeyed and deep, locked onto mine. “If you choose to walk this path,” he said, voice low, deliberate, “you must follow these rules. Or you will… fall.”
I shivered again, the words sinking into me. The knife glinted faintly behind him, a reminder that this world was not forgiving.
“I understand,” I whispered.
He smiled faintly, satisfied, and tilted his head. “Good. Then perhaps you’re ready to see more.”
He turns and walks out of the living room.
I follow quietly behind him.
His steps are slow, almost silent, as he guides me through the mansion. He shows me everything—the long, shadowed hallways, the kitchen with its dark marble counters, the bathrooms, the guest rooms, and other bedrooms clearly lived in by people… or things… like him.
Each room feels different, but they all carry the same quiet weight. Like the walls are listening.
Then we stop in front of a door.
“This will be your room,” he says softly, his eyes drifting across the space.
The walls are deep charcoal, the curtains heavy and elegant, the bed large with soft, black sheets that almost shine in the dim light. It feels calm, quiet… safe in a strange, unfamiliar way.
I step inside slowly, taking it all in. My fingers trail along the bed frame, then over the cool, smooth fabric of the sheets. I move to the nightstand and notice a small plush bear sitting there.
It looks soft. Gentle. Out of place in this dark world.
I reach out and trace my fingers over it.
He speaks from behind me.
My hand pulls back instantly. I turn toward him.
Something in his eyes has changed.
They’re not intense or predatory now. Not cold.
They’re soft. Distant. Sad.
Like a memory just passed through him.
I move toward the window instead, looking down at the view of the dark trees outside.
“We should take care of your wound,” he says after a moment.
I touch my head lightly and nod.
He leads the way again, and I follow him down the hall until we reach another door.
The space is enormous, with towering stone walls and high, arched ceilings. A massive stained-glass window dominates one side, letting in cold, muted light. Dozens of candles flicker around the room, their glow warm but not enough to chase away the shadows.
At the center sits a large canopy bed draped in deep burgundy velvet. The curtains fall heavily around it, the fabric rich and soft-looking. Beneath it, a dark red rug stretches across worn wooden floors.
Everything feels old. Intentional. Like this room has seen centuries of secrets.
He motions for me to sit on the bed, and I do. Only then do I realize I’m still wearing my school uniform.
He pulls out a small kit and begins tending to my wound.
Up close, he’s… beautiful.
His lashes are long and dark. His skin is pale and smooth, almost flawless. A small mole rests on his cheek, and another sits just beneath his eye.
I don’t realize I’ve been staring until he suddenly looks up and catches me.
Even that small sound sends butterflies through my chest.
He finishes cleaning the wound and wraps it carefully. Then he closes the kit and tosses the bloodstained towel into a bin.
“Does… blood not bother you?”
He answers without looking at me.
“I’ve learned to control it. It was hard at first… but I mastered it.”
Then he looks at me, his expression calm.
“If I hadn’t, I would have taken you out the moment I saw you.”
I stare down at my hands, picking at my nails, trying to slow my racing heartbeat.
He walks toward me and crouches down to my level, his head tilting slightly, as if listening.
“Calm down,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you. Not unless you give me a reason.”
I look up into his eyes and feel myself getting lost in them.
He stands again, stepping back.
“Once you graduate,” he says, “that’s when your transformation will happen.”
“Why that long? I thought… we were doing it now.”
“I need to make sure you’re ready for this. You told me you were, but I have to be certain.”
“And when it happens… you cannot go back to your normal life. You’re still in school. If you suddenly disappeared, it would cause questions. Problems.”
He looks at me more seriously now.
“You’re still a minor. You’re seventeen. But when you graduate, you’ll be eighteen.”
“And when you graduate… no one will be looking for you. You’ll be on your own.”
The words settle heavily in my chest.
A strange mix of fear… and relief.
"I only have a few more months until I graduate," I say quietly. "Two... to be exact."
For a moment, he doesn't answer. His hand rests on the door handle, fingers unmoving, like he's listening to something beyond the walls.
I tilt my head slightly. "What is it?"
He turns the knob slowly. A small, intrigued smile touches his lips.
He holds his hand out to me again, palm open, inviting.
"Come," he says softly. "Let's meet the family."
We descend the staircase together.
Each step feels heavier than the last.
When we reach the bottom, I see them.
The living room is no longer quiet. It's filled with people—some sitting on the black leather couches, others standing against the walls or near the windows. They look relaxed, almost casual... but there's something about them that makes the air feel sharper.
Nervous is an understatement.
The moment I step into the room, every head turns.
It's like they can sense it—
a human inside their home.
Their eyes land on me one by one, slow and deliberate. Some curious. Some amused. Some... unreadable.
Taehyung's hand is still wrapped around mine.
A girl with sharp features and cold, beautiful eyes. She's dressed in black, her posture stiff and controlled. Her gaze drops immediately to our joined hands.
Before I can even react, she disappears.
A blur of motion—too fast to follow.
And suddenly she's right in front of us.
She stares at our hands, then lifts her eyes to Taehyung.
"What is this?" she asks, voice flat but edged with something sharp. "Who is she... and why is she here?"
Her eyes are emotionless, but there's something simmering beneath them.
Taehyung gently moves her aside, not rough, but firm enough to make space.
"Jennie," he says calmly.
He walks forward, pulling me with him until we're standing in front of everyone. Now all eyes are fully on me.
My fingers tighten around his.
These aren't normal people.
They don't breathe like humans. They don't blink as much. They don't move unless they want to.
A man sitting in the center of the room catches my attention. He's dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit, one leg crossed over the other. His posture is relaxed, but his presence fills the entire space.
His eyes are fixed on Taehyung.
Calm. Intelligent. Dangerous.
“What is this, Taehyung?" he asks quietly.
Taehyung squeezes my hand once before speaking.
"This is Alice," he says. "She'll be staying with us for a while."
A murmur moves through the room.
Another man—broad-shouldered, with a serious expression—leans forward.
"That's because she is," Taehyung replies.
A cheerful-looking man with bright eyes grins from the couch. "Well, this is new. We don't get visitors very often." He nudges the woman beside him. "Right, Jisoo?"
Jisoo gives him a stern look, though her voice is gentle. "Hoseok, this isn't a joke."
Hoseok just laughs softly.
A tall, composed man with sharp eyes—clearly the one in charge—uncrosses his legs and stands. His presence is commanding, and the others instinctively quiet.
He steps closer, studying me carefully.
"You brought a human into our home," he says to Taehyung. "You know what that means."
Another voice cuts in—smooth, quiet, almost lazy.
"If she's here," the man says from the shadows, "then there's a reason."
He sits slightly apart from the others, dark hair falling over his eyes.
Near him, a friendly-looking girl gives me a small, reassuring smile.
"Hi," she says softly. "I'm Rosé."
Beside her, a charming-looking man straightens slightly, clearly paying attention to her.
"That's Woo Do-hwan," someone mutters. "He's one of Taehyung's guards."
Woo Do-hwan offers me a small, polite nod. I saw him before inside the car.
Near the back of the room, two younger-looking men stand close to Taehyung's side. One of them crosses his arms, glaring at me.
"That's the human?" he scoffs. "She looks like she'd break in half."
The other smirks, eyes playful.
"Be nice, Kook. You're scaring her."
Near the doorway, another tall, elegant man stands beside a girl with sharp, confident features.
"That's Cha Eun-woo," someone whispers. He's the other male that was with us in the woods.
Closer to the center stands a handsome man with a warm but serious expression.
"That's Jin," Rosé says quietly. "He's the oldest."
Jennie still hasn't moved. Her eyes remain locked on me, cold and calculating.
She's standing too close to Taehyung.
And she doesn't look happy.
Namjoon finally speaks again.
"So," he says, voice calm but firm. "Why is she here, Taehyung?"
Taehyung's grip on my hand tightens slightly.
"Because," he says, "she chose our world."
Every pair of eyes returns to me.
And for the first time since entering the mansion...
I realize there's no going back.
The room felt heavier now, like the shadows themselves were holding their breath. Every eye was on Taehyung... and me. I stayed frozen, my hand still in his, trying not to look too small, too human. But I could feel it—every predator here could smell my fear, sense my fragility.
Namjoon's sharp gaze swept across the room. He leaned forward, fingers steepled together. "Taehyung," he said, voice calm but firm, "you brought a human into the house. That is... unprecedented. What makes you think she belongs here?"
I swallowed, my throat dry.
Taehyung's grip on my hand didn't waver. His eyes flicked to mine, reassuring, though I wasn't sure how. Then he turned back to the family. "She's different," he said slowly, deliberately. "And she's ready. She's... chosen this."
Jennie's dark eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. She stepped closer, and I instinctively flinched, but Taehyung didn't move. "Chosen this?" she repeated, her tone dripping disbelief. "Taehyung, do you even know what that means? Humans are fragile, weak... they will die here. Or worse, they'll break under our world. Why risk it?"
Hoseok let out a low laugh, his voice like a bell cutting through tension. "Come on, Jennie. She's not going to break our world. If she's ready... maybe it's time she learns the rules."
Rosé, standing near the edge of the circle, added softly, "She's nervous... but she's brave. There's a spark in her. I can feel it."
Woo Do-hwan's sharp gaze flicked between me and Taehyung. "Brave? She's a human. A small, fragile human. If she stays here, we're all taking a risk."
Jimin, leaning lazily against the wall, smirked. "Do we even know she can survive? I mean... she's never seen anything like this before. And what if she panics?"
Jungkook scoffed from the corner. "She'll panic. Guaranteed. She won't last a day."
Taehyung's voice cut through them, low and controlled, but it carried a weight that silenced even Jungkook. "Enough. I've watched her. I've seen what she's survived. If anyone can adapt... it's her. And I will make sure she doesn't fail."
Jennie's gaze flicked to me again, sharp and assessing. "And if she falters?" she asked, her tone almost a dare. "If she can't follow the rules?"
Taehyung's hand squeezed mine slightly. "Then I'll take responsibility. she won't be left to fail alone. I will guide her. And if necessary, I will protect her. But she will learn. She wants this."
I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes, the tension in the room pressing in. But something in Taehyung's presence steadied me. A flicker of courage sparked inside me.
Namjoon finally nodded, though his expression remained stern. "Very well. She will stay... on the condition that Taehyung personally trains her and ensures she follows the rules. Any deviation, and she leaves immediately."
Jennie's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue further. Hoseok grinned faintly, and Rosé gave me a small, encouraging nod.
Taehyung released my hand just slightly, turning to me with that faint, approving smile of his. "Do you understand?" he asked softly.
I nodded, my heart pounding. "I... I do."
"Good," he said. His eyes scanned the room, landing on each of them. "Then she stays. And she learns. Every rule, every limit, every part of this world. Agreed?"
One by one, they murmured their consent, the tension in the room slowly easing—but the weight of the world they lived in didn't lift.
I realized then, with a mix of fear and excitement, that there was no turning back.
a/n Thanks for reading come back for chapter 2 !!
