"Where is Dr. Kang Soo-jin?"
"She's in a meeting with the director. She told me to say goodbye on her behalf," said Ms. Wang bowing with a polite smile.
"I see." Said Taeha still scanning the corridor for a glimpse of her.
***********************
Meanwhile, Teha and his father rode back to their apartment in near silence. The air between them was thick with unspoken words.
Taeha's mind was a whirlwind.
Why did Father fake his hospital discharge?
Why did he lie?
Taeha wasn't clueless, he knew his father didn't want him to cancel the fan meeting just because of a hospital stay. But still, this silence gnawed at him.
Thanks to the evening rush hour, it took nearly an hour to get home. By the time they reached the apartment, exhaustion clung to Taeha like a second skin.
The very first thing he did? A long, hot shower.
Steam fogged up the mirror as he dried his hair with a towel. That's when it hit him.
A familiar scent.
Iron-rich.
Heavy.
Blood.
His eyes widened. He tossed the towel aside, hurriedly threw on some clothes, and dashed into the living room.
The scent grew stronger.
And there he was, just as Taeha feared, his father, Kang Moo-ha, was seated calmly at the dining table, extracting blood into a sterile container.
"Father! What in the world are you doing?"
Taeha covered his nose instinctively.
His gaze was lowered, refusing to meet Kang Moo-ha's eyes. He didn't want his father to see the red bleeding into his irises.
"Father, please stop. You just got discharged today…" he pleaded, voice trembling.
But his father didn't answer. The syringe kept working. Blood flowed, steadily, quietly.
"Father, I can't accept your blood when you're in this state. Please… don't make me feel like I'm some kind of monster."
That word hung in the air.
Monster.
Kang Moo-ha's hands paused. Then he turned slowly.
"Taeha… look at me."
But Taeha's eyes stayed glued to the floor.
"Taeha," his voice softened, "it's okay. Look at me."Reluctantly, Taeha lifted his head. Their eyes met.
"You're not a monster," his father said gently, as he always did when Taeha spiraled into self-loathing. "You are special."
Taeha blinked. His throat tightened. His gaze dropped again.
Silence stretched between them, thick as midnight fog.
Then, without a word, Kang Moo-ha tossed a newly sealed packet of blood across the dining table.
It landed with a soft thud near Taeha.
Taeha's fingers curled around it hesitantly. A sharp sting of guilt pricked his chest.
Like a child unwrapping candy, he tore a corner and began to slurp quietly, awkward, vulnerable, like a boy with his first lollipop.
He usually hated being seen like this. Hated the vulnerability, the shame.
But not with his father.
Never with him.
Kang Mooha- his father, had been watching him consume blood since he was a child. And somehow, that made it feel… okay.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It all began just a week after Kim Taeha's adoption.
During that first week, Kang Moo-ha and his wife did everything they could to make little Taeha feel at home.But no matter what they did, Taeha remained the same; quiet, withdrawn, and sudden, as he had been in the orphanage.
It was a weekday evening when Kang Moo-ha returned home from work, holding a small bag in his hand. He had made it a habit to bring something for Taeha every day, hoping to melt the boy's cold walls.
"Taeha, look what I got you…. apples, you like them right?" he called cheerfully, setting the bag down on the kitchen table.
His wife was doing the dishes nearby.
"Where's Taeha?" he asked.
"In his room," she replied without turning. "Honey, should I make you some tea?"
He nodded but didn't wait. He headed straight for Taeha's room.
Taeha was seated at his small desk, scribbling on a piece of paper with a crayon. He glanced up as Moo-ha entered.
"Let's go, shall we? Dad brought you delicious apples."
Then he smiled warmly and scooped Taeha up for a piggyback ride. The boy didn't resist. He carried him to the kitchen and gently placed him on a chair. Since his wife was busy, Moo-ha didn't ask her for help.
Instead, he took a small knife from the rack, rinsed an apple, and began slicing it himself.
Taeha was watching him. His eyes were blank with no emotion , followed every movement.
Then,
"Ouch!" Kang Moo-ha gasped.
"Ah!" his wife screamed.
Blood streaked from his finger and dripped onto the counter.
"Honey, you should've been more careful!" she cried.
"I'm fine. It's not that deep," he insisted. But dripping blood told he was wrong.
"Get me a towel, quickly," he said.
His wife turned, flustered….just for a second.
"Taeha, wait!" she suddenly screamed.Moo-ha turned, but too late.
Taeha lunged at him. They both crashed to the floor.
Shocked, Moo-ha stared at his adopted son in disbelief.
Taeha grabbed his injured hand and began sucking the blood from the wound.
"Taeha…! Aghh!" Moo-ha groaned in pain.
Mrs. Kang screamed. Paralyzed by the sight.
Moo-ha struggled. Tried to pull away. But Taeha's grip was unnaturally tight.
Finally, with his wife's help, he managed to break free.
And then they saw it.
The eyes. Blood-red.
The fangs. Sharp and glinting.
Mrs. Kang covered her mouth, trembling. She collapsed to the floor, shaking.
Moo-ha stared at the boy….his son…now covered in blood.
He didn't look like a child.
He looked like a creature.
From that night on, their once peaceful home turned into a battleground.
Mrs. Kang, consumed by fear, tried to call the orphanage to return Taeha. She forced herself to feed him homemade food, desperate to pretend he was normal.
But Taeha threw up almost every time.
Moo-ha, on the other hand, drowned his shock in alcohol. He barely spoke to his wife, especially when she brought up what happened.
The house fell apart.
Fights broke out constantly.
Their home became a living hell.
Mrs. Kang stopped caring for Taeha. She locked him in his room whenever they were alone. Some days, she didn't even give him food, fed up with cleaning up after his vomiting.
Then one day, Moo-ha came home early.
He found Taeha unconscious on his bed.
His heart stopped.
Rage. Guilt. Fear.
All of it hit him at once.
He confronted his wife, trembling with fury.
"That's it! I can't take this anymore!" she screamed. "I don't want to live with a bloodsucking monster!"
"If you can't stay, then just leave!" Moo-ha shouted back.
He didn't mean it. But the words were already out.
She stared at him, eyes cold with fury, and stormed off to their room. Hours later, she left with her luggage.
The next day, divorce papers were filed.
Moo-ha signed them. He had no choice. He was terrified she'd expose Taeha's condition in court.
From that day forward, it was just him and Taeha.
And for the first time since that awful night, Moo-ha made a decision.
He would raise Taeha alone.
He would protect him, love him, Not because he had to, but because Taeha was his son.
The bond between them, once fragile, grew stronger year by year…
Until the present.
"Father, why did you tell Il-soo about what happened that day? You know I don't like getting them involved," Taeha said, setting the empty packet on the table.
"About what?"
"Don't act like you don't know," he snapped, glaring.
"Taeha, listen. You don't have to hide anything. They already know everything about you. Besides, you've all been working together for years."
"So?"
"So, they'll be the ones helping you in the future… when I'm no longer around," Kang Mooha replied with a gentle smile.
Taeha's eyes darkened. He rolled them in frustration, his jaw tightening. He hated it when his father talked like that. "Father, I told you to stop saying things like that. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Kang Muha simply smiled again, that same irritatingly calm smile that always got under Taeha's skin.
But he couldn't stay angry for long. His father's cheesy pickup lines slipped into the conversation, catching him off guard. Taeha burst out laughing, despite himself.
They continued talking for a while. It was close to 11 p.m. when Taeha finally collapsed on his bed. After such a long day, all he needed was sleep- deep, uninterrupted sleep.
*******************
Meanwhile, Kang Seo Jin was just finishing her shift, all thanks to a sudden meeting with the director. The meeting forced her to delay two surgeries, and she was not in the best mood.
She grabbed her handbag, phone, and car keys, then stormed out of her room without wasting a second. When she reached the hospital parking lot and got into her car, she turned the key only to be met with a horrible grinding sound. The engine coughed and sputtered… then died.
She tried again. And again. Ten times. Still nothing.
"Holy shit, you really decided to do this here of all places?" she shouted, smacking the steering wheel.
She glanced at her wristwatch and nearly had a heart attack. It was late. Too late. "A taxi or a bus at this hour? Great. Just perfect," she muttered.
"May be Minci is still at the hospital...."
She quickly dialed Minci's number, hope flickering as her pale face coming back to normal. But just as fast, she remembered Minzy hadn't even come in that day. Her face paled again as she hung up, sighing in frustration.
For a few more seconds, she sat in the car, debating her next move. Then, with a resigned breath, she got out and decided to take the bus.
It was 11:30 p.m. when she finally reached the bus station. To make things worse, the bus was late by twenty minutes. And once she got on, it moved so slowly she felt like she could've crawled home faster.
But things weren't going great for Taeha either.
He had hoped for a peaceful night's sleep but that was asking for too much. Even in slumber, peace didn't come to him. He found himself trapped in a vivid nightmare.
He was drowning in a vast, endless ocean.
Darkness surrounded him, consumed him.
He tried to fight it, to swim upward, but thousands of sinister hands reached out from below, dragging him deeper. His limbs felt heavy. His eyelids drooped. The eerie sound of shrieks and screams filled his ears.
Then came the pain.
A sharp, slicing pain in his chest.
His eyes snapped open only to find a silver dagger pierced through his heart. Embedded in its quillon was a glowing red diamond, pulsing with a sinister light.
The pain intensified. The glow burned brighter and brighter, until, Taeha bolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. But the pain… it was still there.
Clutching his chest, he staggered out of bed, gasping for breath. He stumbled into the kitchen, yanked open the fridge, and grabbed a packet of blood.
He drank it in seconds.
Still weak. Still hurting.
He slid to the floor and leaned against the kitchen wall, eyes closed, willing the pain to fade.
His breathing slowed… the pain dulled…
Then he heard it....footsteps.
And a familiar voice approaching, thanks to his heightened senses.