You didn’t scre@m when you figured it out. That was the part they still didn’t understand. Most people noticed something was off and backed away slowly. Others never noticed at all. But you watched, really watched, the way they moved, the way the night bent around them, the way hunger slipped through their jokes when they thought no one was paying attention.

It didn’t take long to put the pieces together and when you finally said it out loud — when you told them you knew what they were — they all froze.

David had gone still. Dwayne’s smile had faded just a fraction. Marko and Paul waited for the moment you’d bolt but you didn’t. You stayed right where you were, heart pounding, but steady.

“I figured you’d kilI me,” you’d said instead. “Or scare me off.”

David studied you like you were something new and unfamiliar. “And yet you’re still here.”

You shrugged. “You haven’t hurt me.”

That changed everything.

They didn’t turn you. Didn’t hunt you. Didn’t push you away. They just… kept showing up. Nights on the boardwalk. Laughing too loud. Sitting too close. Watching you like they were making sure you were real. You weren’t prey, you were chosen. Which is why the Frog Brothers noticed.

At first, it was the pattern — the same group of guys, always at your side. Then the way you weren’t scared when you should’ve been. Then the way you walked through Santa Carla at night like you belonged to something dangerous.

Hunters didn’t ignore signs like that. The night they grabbed you, it happened fast. Too fast. Hands on your arms. A bag over your head. The sound of voices — young, excited, convinced they were doing the right thing.

Now you’re tied to a chair in a dark, half-abandoned space, the place riddled with traps for vampire news, ropes biting into your wrists. The air smells like salt and dust and adrenaline. A camera clicks. Someone laughs nervously.

“They’ll come,” Edgar says, pacing. “Vampires don’t leave their pets behind.”

You lift your head slowly looking at both Allen and Edgar.

“I’m not a pet and you have no idea what you just did.”

The door creaks and the temperature drops. Footsteps echo — familiar ones and suddenly the room feels very, very small. But the Frog bothers hold steady.