Crimson Hunger

The night was thick with the scent of rain and neon light. The city pulsed with life—drunken laughter, heartbeats pounding, the ever-present thrum of mortality.

Haruna walked among them, unseen, unnoticed. A shadow wrapped in black lace.

Her hunger was subtle at first, an ache in the back of her throat, a quiet whisper in her veins. But as she passed through the streets, weaving between humans—warm, fragile, alive—the hunger grew sharper, deeper. Unignorable.

And then, she saw her.

A woman—dark-eyed, delicate, with a throat too exposed for her own good. She leaned against a lamppost, lips painted deep red, her gaze distant as she took a slow drag from her cigarette.

Haruna stopped.

The woman looked up. Their eyes met.

And just like that, they both knew.

Haruna smirked. "You're waiting for someone?"

The woman exhaled smoke, her lips curling slightly. "Maybe." A pause. "Maybe I was waiting for you."

Haruna stepped closer, her fingers grazing the woman's wrist—barely a touch, but enough. Enough to feel the pulse. The heat. The promise of blood just beneath the surface.

"Come with me," Haruna murmured.

The woman didn't hesitate.

They disappeared into the shadows.

—

The alley was dark, secluded, the hum of the city fading into the distance.

The woman's back hit the cold brick wall, her breath shaky, excited. Haruna leaned in, trailing her fingers down the woman's throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her fingertips.

The woman sighed, tilting her head slightly. "You're dangerous, aren't you?"

Haruna smiled. Fangs glinting. "Very."

Their lips met—a slow, burning kiss, all teeth and heat and quiet, breathless desperation. The woman's hands tangled in Haruna's hair, pulling her closer, pulling her deeper.

Haruna's lips traveled lower, her breath cool against flushed skin.

Then—she bit.

The woman gasped, her body tensing, then relaxing—completely at Haruna's mercy.

Warm, rich, alive—the blood spilled onto Haruna's tongue, filling her with a slow, intoxicating heat. It was always like this, always better than anything else. A hunger that could never be satisfied, only eased.

The woman whimpered, her fingers tightening in Haruna's hair.

Haruna licked the wound, sealing it with a slow drag of her tongue before pulling away.

The woman slumped against the wall, breathless, dazed, completely under the spell of the bite.

Haruna wiped her lips, smirking. "Sweet."

She left the woman there, still alive, still breathing—just a little less than before.

And then—

She turned the corner and walked straight into someone.

Haruna hissed, fangs bared instinctively—ready to strike.

But then—

She froze.

The figure before her was pale. Familiar. Too familiar.

Midori.

Her ex.

Standing under the streetlight, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Haruna's breath hitched.

Midori smirked. "You haven't changed."

Haruna didn't move.

The past had just caught up with her.

The End of Chapter 16.