The sun was out, but Jayden felt no warmth.
He stood outside the Adelwins' home, his hands clenched in the pockets of his hoodie, staring at the window he had stared through for sixteen years. A simple brick house. Ivy-covered porch. Faded blue curtains.
Inside, Mrs. Adelwin was humming as she folded laundry. Her hair in rollers. A worn apron around her waist. Just another quiet Saturday morning.
Jayden's chest tightened.
She had raised him like her own. Mr. Adelwin, too — firm, patient, always calling him "son" even when he got into trouble at school. They never made him feel different. Never treated him like he didn't belong.
But he didn't belong.
Not anymore.
Not with fangs growing in his mouth.
Not with hunger tightening in his throat every time someone pricked their finger or kissed someone's neck too close.
He was a vampire, and they were prey.
---
The Reflection
In the bathroom mirror, he studied himself.
Same brown eyes. Same soft curls. Same faint scar under his left eye from when he fell off his bike at ten.
But there was something… colder now.
Something deeper.
His eyes looked sharper. Hungrier. His skin, too pale. His heartbeat, too still.
"You're not human, Jayden."
The words from the Crimson Hotel echoed again and again in his head. He wanted to believe it was a dream. A prank. A lie. But it wasn't. That night changed him.
Since then, everything felt louder. Brighter. Smelled sweeter.
Especially blood.
---
Dinner Table Silence
That evening, they all sat around the dinner table.
"Jay, how was school today?" Mr. Adelwin asked, sipping tea.
Jayden didn't answer at first. He forced a smile. "Good. Just tired."
"You've been quiet lately," Mrs. Adelwin said. "Not sick, are you?"
Yes, he wanted to scream. I'm sick. I'm not who you think I am.
But he just nodded. "Nah. Just haven't been sleeping well."
They both watched him for a second longer than normal. Concern in their eyes.
He couldn't take it.
He dropped his spoon. "Sorry. I'm not really hungry."
He left the table, their voices calling faintly behind him, but he didn't turn back.
He couldn't eat human food anymore anyway.
---
Midnight Confession
That night, he went to the backyard — the same spot where they found him all those years ago. The wind was cold, but he didn't feel it. He just stood there, arms folded, staring into the trees.
"Why me?" he whispered to the dark.
"Why did they leave me here? What am I supposed to do now?"
The night said nothing.
Only a soft rustle in the woods.
---
The Letter
When he returned to his room, another envelope sat on his desk.
Same seal.
Same red ink.
"It begins with choice. The blood doesn't have to own you. But you can't live in both worlds forever. —V."
Jayden's hands trembled.
What did that mean?
Was this a warning?
A threat?
Or a test?
---
The Craving
At 3 a.m., he woke up sweating.
His throat burned.
His heart pounded.
He could hear the blood in the walls — his foster parents' hearts beating on the other side of the house.
One. Two.
Thump. Thump.
He clutched his chest and bit down hard on his tongue.
He wouldn't go to them.
He wouldn't hurt them.
He curled into a ball on the floor and waited for morning.
---
The Realization
By sunrise, Jayden knew one thing:
He couldn't stay here much longer.
Not without putting them in danger.
He loved them.
But love wasn't enough to stop the blood inside him from waking up.
And something deep down told him — this was only the beginning.