Chapter 52 Chapter 52
Chapter 52 Chapter 52
The following night fell without warning.
I woke not because of a sound, but because of a feeling. Something was wrong in the air. Not a great threat, not the presence of another vampire. It was subtler than that. Restlessness.
Dahlia was already awake. She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs swinging gently, her fingers twisting together.
“You feel it too,” I said.
She nodded. “I’m not hungry like yesterday. But my chest feels tight.”
“That’s survival instinct,” I replied. “Your body knows we’re not completely safe.”
“But we’re not being followed.”
“Being safe and not being followed are two different things.”
I got up and opened the window slightly. Night air slipped in, carrying the sounds of the city. Music from an old radio, loud laughter, small arguments, hurried footsteps. This city never truly slept.
“I’m going out for a bit,” I said.
Dahlia stood up immediately. “Where?”
“Just outside. Buy some water. Look around.”
“Brother.”
I turned to her. “I won’t be long.”
She bit her lip. “Don’t take too long.”
I nodded and stepped out, closing the door quietly.
The boarding house corridor was livelier tonight. A man sat on the stairs smoking. Two women laughed too loudly at the far end of the hallway. I lowered my gaze as I passed them.
“Hey,” one of them called. “You’re new, right?”
I stopped. “Yeah.”
“Living alone?”
“With my sister.”
“Oh,” she said with a crooked smile. “Be careful around here.”
“Thank you.”
I walked on. That word—careful—wasn’t an empty warning. This place wasn’t a palace with guards and thick walls. It was a nest of desperate humans. Just as dangerous, only in a different way.
Outside, a small food stall was still open. I bought bottled water and a cheap packet of rice.
“You look tired every time I see you,” the vendor said as he handed me the plastic bag.
“I work nights.”
“Alone?”
“Not always.”
He nodded as if he understood, though he didn’t. Humans often think they understand simply because they stop asking questions.
When I returned to the room, Dahlia was standing near the door, clearly not sitting still like she had promised.
“You took a while,” she said.
“Just a bit.”
She took a deep breath. “Someone walked past our room. Stopped. Then left.”
My body tensed. “Human?”
“Yes.”
“They didn’t come back?”
“Not yet.”
I placed the food on the small table. “Let’s eat.”
She sat down but didn’t touch the food right away. “Brother.”
“What is it?”
“If one day we really have to hunt.”
I looked at her sharply. “That’s the last option.”
“I know. But if the choice is me dying or a human we don’t know.”
I stayed silent. The question wasn’t fair, but it was real.
“We’ll find another way,” I said finally. “Donors. Hospitals. Leftover blood. There are paths that don’t involve killing.”
She nodded, though she clearly wasn’t fully convinced.
We ate in silence. Afterward, I sat on the floor, leaning my head against the bed. Dahlia lay down, her back to me.
“Brother,” she said softly. “You never say it. That you’re tired.”
I smiled faintly. “If I say it, you’ll be scared.”
“I’m already scared.”
I turned toward her. “I can’t fall apart. If I fall, you fall with me.”
She turned around and looked at me. “We can be scared together. Just not alone.”
Her words were simple, but they cut deeper than anything else.
I nodded. “Alright.”
We turned off the light earlier than usual that night. I didn’t fall asleep right away. I listened. Counted. Footsteps outside. Heartbeats inside.
This isn’t the life I chose. But it’s the life I have to protect.
And for the first time, I didn’t think about the past or the future. Only this night. Only this narrow room. Only one promise looping in my mind.
Survive. Tomorrow, we can be afraid again.