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It was yet another night for Nichkhun to feed, it was only a week ago when he found himself feeding upon a homesick farm boy with not even a book in his room. Pity, Nichkhun found, was going to be a common feeling for the next few months.
He sighed before pulling out his phone, he decided to take the number of minutes to be the room he would enter that night to feed.
"Forty-five." He sighed and began walking up the stairs. Why had he chosen the Institute? Perhaps for the reason that happiness flowed as much as the pain from the past did. In the Brotherhood the rooms were filled with people that didn't dwell on what happened, instead they fight it off and move on with their calloused exteriors. Nichkhun grew tired of it really, there was no such thing as genuine on this island.
He passed each door with caution, if he were caught it was likely he'd be speaking to Dongwook the next morning, "Forty-three," He stopped and eyed the door with the number forty-five. A heavy sigh left him and as he closed his eyes he dissapperated with ease, opening his eyes to a dark room and yet another sleeping kid. He looked angry as he slept rather stoically, like a doll placed in the bed to look seemingly perfect.
Nichkhun stepped closer and with one single inhaling he could already taste the foul bitterness of fear.
The new location was darker, somehow Khun found that impossible. To his left there was the sound of chains on concrete, then a small moan - most likely the victim himself.
Khun's night vision kicked in when the victim began to wrestle with the chains, as if he could break free with the simple human strength. Then a whimper escaped the boy, Nichkhun too saw the cause of his fear.
The victim's hands were completely covered in blood, the vital fluid seemed relatively new considering it still dripped and trickled down his arm.
Shock, that's all Nichkhun saw. Fear, confusion, the usual is what Nichkhun felt. Then to his right there was the faint sound of a snore as well as a shuffle. Khun bent down and found a man completely drenched in water, from head to toe- yet unlike the blood from the victim- there was no trace of water on the concrete as easily as it should have been seen.
Nichkhun too was confused, perhaps this was a ghost of the victim's. Never the less he began to feel full, the memory began to blur and he exhaled deeply as he knelt beside the sleeping victim.
He suddenly felt nauseas, as if all the feelings he had just now clashed together to create on bit twist in his stomach. Nichkhun stepped away as the victim awoke, he was out of breath and looked troubled- angry.
Khun clenched his eyes together and pictured his room, where he opened his eyes to. He stood directly by his bed, he would've collapsed on it if he wasn't so befuddled.
Chains was one thing, a few giveaways there but they weren't exactly the strongest for his thesis. The blood was another, it looked as if it were still new- coming from his own hands even. Again there was no strong clue to back him up.
That man however, dead asleep only a snore and a small adjustment while drenched wet and the concrete completely dry.
If only there weren't such a thing as strange, Nichkhun thought, I wouldn't have to be so disturbed.
The only problem with that statement is the fact that Nichkhun himself is the cause of the disturbance. He'll learn that with time, hopefully.
