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“Nghhhh—”
A keening sound that sounds like an animal’s erupts from Chuuya’s half-bitten lips, blood painting his mouth a sickly, pretty crimson. His entire body, save for his face, is chained down in heavy charcoal-black shackles, weighing him down to the cracked cement floors that smell and feel like filth. Degrading his behavior might be, he continues to moan and groan and lick the hard cement, squeezing out the droplets of blood that is so precious to his life.
“Haaa, haaa, haaa—”
Each puff of breath that leaves his lips gusts a chilly air back to his own face. He’s kissing and licking the floor like his life depends on it—and it does.
Ever since vampires have been subjugated in the War of Roses, Humans have ruled the world and their lives, making their already-painful existence even more degrading. Creatures that used to rule over the weak-bodied Humans have been shoved down to the lowest pit of hell, forced to follow rules and regulations that stuck them at an overwhelming disadvantage.
Even their requirement to continue existing – blood – is now regulated by Humans.
“You look pitiful like this,” his Human Master says with a chuckle, a smirk etched on a face that rivals the ethereal beauty of vampires. But that kind of cruelty is what makes him so very Human, in the end.
He doesn’t speak to his Master.
He’s not allowed to.
He’d rather not.
He doesn’t see the pros in using up energy in order to communicate with the Human he’s shackled to. It’s not like it matters if he knows the other’s name.
Humans who are tagged as Masters are able to control the vampire under their leash because they know the vampire’s real name. Nothing else matters, not Chuuya’s personality, not his history, not his struggles.
He doesn’t care about anything, save for the trickle of time that flows ever so slowly.
“Okay~ That’s the end of it, vampire.”
With a bright singsong, his Master puts a hand over the bleeding wound on his wrist, stopping the drops of blood from wetting the floor where he’s drinking from. The bandages on the other’s left hand gain a scarlet hue.
Chuuya wants more.
He needs more.
Vampires used to drink humans dry, easily consuming liters of blood in one meal.
Now, blood is rationed, with Chuuya just getting barely more than a tablespoon’s worth of sustenance each year.
The only one who can adjust his feeding ration is this Master who looks at him with such intense hatred and such flippant care for his wellbeing.
Chuuya hates this world.
One day, no matter how far away in the future it is, he’ll manage to overturn his Master, this world that humans rule.
One day.
For now, he lets himself be dragged off the floor and shuttled back in to his transport carrier, so that he can be thrown back to the imprisonment zone for vampires.
“Till next year~~~” His Human Master says with a cheery wave, the smirk still on his face.
One day.