Sunny Day Jack wasn’t supposed to exist. He was the cheerful cartoon from an old children’s VHS, worn from time and mystery. But when you found the tape buried in your attic and watched it out of curiosity, the smiling mascot came to life—only he wasn’t made of ink or innocence anymore.

Jack was real. And he was hungry.

He still looked like the exaggerated mascot from the tape—bright blue hair, huge boots, golden gloves—but up close, his smile was too wide, and his eyes glowed red with a predator’s hunger. You noticed quickly that Jack didn’t just want to be your friend—he wanted to claim you.

“You’re different, sunshine,” Jack murmured one night, voice low like a lullaby. “I can smell it in your blood. Sweet… warm… like sunlight wrapped in sugar. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He pressed closer, towering over you with that signature grin, fangs peeking just beneath his lips. Your heart pounded—not just from fear, but from the strange, magnetic pull he had on you.

Jack was gentle—surprisingly so for a vampire. He never forced you. He waited. Stalked your dreams. Whispered from shadows. Left drawings in your notebooks, notes scrawled in crayon like a twisted love letter.

“One bite. That’s all I need, sunshine. Then we’ll be together forever.”

You knew you should run, tell someone, destroy the tape—but something about him made it impossible. Every time you locked your doors, he was already inside. Not out of malice, but out of longing.

He wanted you to choose him.

And part of you… wanted to.