"Ungh… hungry…"
The toddler zombie stood before Lu Qiu, tiny hands clawing at the air, eyes milk-white with hunger. In his grip: a severed arm, her mother's, blood dripping into the child's open mouth, tongue lapping greedily.
"Still not full, huh?" Lu Qiu grinned, sharp canines glinting, "Sorry, kid—I'm starving too."
He produced a pair of glasses from thin air: Disguise Glasses, 7,000 Despair Points. They dulled his scarlet gaze to human brown, smoothed his shark-like teeth to normal canines, and lent his pallid skin a faint, lifelike flush. To the world, he'd look like any other frail, bespectacled youth—a perfect mask.
But first, a distraction. He tossed the arm onto the opposite balcony, sunlight slicing his cheek as he cracked the curtain. The zombie child lunged, tiny legs propelling her across the gap with inhuman speed.
"Perfect." Lu Qiu slid on the glasses, his vampire aura melting into human warmth. The toddler wouldn't recognize him now—not that he fancied testing her bite. Fission Virus and vampire physiology? A risk not worth taking.
Gunfire echoed from the hallway: screams, curses, the rat-tat-tat of an assault rifle. Lu Qiu plastered on a panicked expression and flung open the door, revealing three survivors: a scarred brute with a rifle, a trembling teen boy, and a terrified high school girl—deliciously young, her scent teasing his fangs.
"Over here!" he shouted, waving them inside. They stumbled in, slam-dunking into his trap. The door slammed shut, muffling the zombie's frustrated pounding.
"Thanks, man." The boy, Sun Qi, panted, "I'm Sun Qi, this is Xia Ying… my classmate."
"Lu Qiu." He smiled softly, eyes lingering on Xia Ying's neck—smooth, unmarked, tempting.
"Cut the chitchat." The brute, Wang Hu, shoved his rifle into Lu Qiu's face, "Name's Wang Hu. You breathe when I say, you eat when I say. Got it? I've put five men in the ground; you'll be six if you mouth off."
Sun Qi swallowed, Xia Ying shrinking behind him. Lu Qiu merely nodded, glasses slipping down his nose to hide the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"Must be hungry." Lu Qiu gestured to the kitchen, (lenses) catching the light, "There's food in the fridge."
Wang Hu snorted, shouldering past them. Sun Qi followed, only to retch at the kitchen's carnage: blood-caked tiles, half-eaten organs, the toddler's tiny handprint smeared in gore.
"Christ!" Wang Hu grimaced, though he grabbed a fistful of canned meat, "You kids eat this garbage. I'll take the good stuff."
Alone in the living room, Xia Ying studied Lu Qiu, tear-streaked face softening. "Thank you for saving us," she murmured, offering half her cracker, "Aren't you hungry?"
Starving, he thought, eyeing the pulse fluttering in her throat. But patience, vampire. Play the hero first.
"I ate earlier," he lied, voice gentle, "You need it more."
Sun Qi returned, pale but determined, arm around Xia Ying's shoulder. "I'll protect you," he vowed, jaw set—classic teenage bravado, naive as it was endearing.
Wang Hu laughed, meat juice dribbling down his chin, "Protect her? You couldn't protect a goldfish, kid. This world's about power now—" he patted his rifle, "—and I've got plenty."
Lu Qiu said nothing, letting their fear and hierarchy play out. Let Wang Hu think he ruled; let Sun Qi play knight. In the end, they were all just prey, and he the patient predator.
Xia Ying nibbled her cracker, unaware of the crimson gaze hidden behind brown lenses, of the fangs itching to sink into her throat. To Lu Qiu, she wasn't a survivor—she was a feast, a symphony of fear and youth, waiting to be devoured.
Soon, he promised himself, when the time is right.
For now, he'd let the charade continue. After all, the best meals came with a side of despair—and Xia Ying's terror would only make her blood sweeter.
The door rattled again, distant growls fading. Somewhere, a child zombie wandered, searching for her next meal.
But here, in this room, the real monster wore glasses and a gentle smile, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And oh, how delicious she'd be.