Chapter 71 - 70 : Accusations

The flight back felt heavier than the fight itself. The wind carried the stench of vampire blood, and my wings ached from the chase. By the time the base came into view, I was running on fumes. I landed hard, talons digging into the dirt, feathers brushing the ground before I let the beastification slip away. The crunch of bone, the stretch of skin—my body folded back into its human shape. But the sound that followed wasn’t relief. It was silence. The moment my talons hit the ground, I could feel it. Fear. Suspicion. Every eye in camp was glued on me. Survivors stood frozen in place, their breaths caught in their throats. Some clutched each other, others gripped makeshift weapons, but they all had the same look—fear. Fear of me. I could almost read their thoughts: Monster. Not human. What if he turns on us? I lifted my hands slowly, half-heartedly, like I was surrendering. "Relax. It’s still me. No feathers, no talons. Just your charming neighborhood babysitter." No one laughed. Not even a nervous chuckle. Before I could say more, a voice cut through the air like a blade. "Where’s my wife?" Do-hwan pushed through the small crowd, his eyes bloodshot, his face twisted. He looked at me like I had already confessed. "Where’s my wife?" His voice cracked, echoing across the tense courtyard. "Where is she, Ye-Jun?" The murmurs began immediately. I didn’t answer, because how could I? She was gone. A casualty. Do-hwan’s finger jabbed at me like a spear. "You killed her, didn’t you? You... monster." I hesitated. And in that hesitation, he found his answer. His expression broke, grief exploding into rage. "You killed her!" The words ripped the air apart. Murmurs spread like wildfire. He killed her... He’s a vampire, isn’t he... We need to leave from here, what if he attack us next? I clenched my jaw. "No. She was already a —" "Liar!" Do-hwan screamed, spittle flying. He jabbed a trembling finger at me. "I saw you up there! That beast—no, that thing—was you! You tore my wife apart like some demon, and now you come back without her? What else am I supposed to believe?!" The logic was ridiculous, I saved his life—yet the way their eyes shifted, the way suspicion bloomed, I could see it becoming truth in their minds. Ye-Rin’s voice cut through the tension like an axe. "Stop it, Do-hwan! He saved you! He’s the reason you’re even standing here right now!" "Believe the truth," Ye-Rin’s voice snapped like a whip. She stepped forward, standing between me and the crowd. Her axe was still strapped across her back, her stance sharp. "Your wife had already transformed into a vampire Behemoth. My brother didn’t kill her. If it weren’t for him, more of us would’ve died." But her words bounced off the survivors like stones thrown at a wall. Do-hwan’s grief turned into poison, seeping into their hearts. The survivors nodded, whispering, glaring. Somehow his trembling voice carried more weight than Ye-Rin’s certainty. Then a screech broke the tension. Junior, the spider monkey, scampered to my side, baring his teeth and snapping his tail thread against the ground like a whip. Roger, the owl, swooped down from a beam and perched in front of me, wings spread wide, glaring at the humans as if daring them to move closer. The crowd flinched back. But their whispers only grew louder. He commands monsters now... How can he be trusted? We should drive him out before he drives us to our graves. I could feel the accusations pressing down like chains. That’s when In-Ji stepped in. "Shut your mouths."he cocked his pistol, the metallic click echoing through the courtyard. Hyun-tae joined her, shotgun resting casually against his shoulder but his gaze was hard. "You want to start pointing fingers, fine. But you point them at us too, because we were there. And you won’t like how that ends. If you have a problem here. You can always leave but don’t expect us to be there for you when something terrible happens to you." The survivors stiffened. Fear of monsters was one thing. Fear of guns was another. Panic rippled through them like a wave. No one dared move closer. One by one, they backed away, muttering, then shuffled into the safety of their buildings, slamming doors behind them. The courtyard was left with only the sound of Junior’s chittering and Roger’s sharp clicks. Finally, Seo-yeon stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "Are you alright, Ye-Jun?" I forced a smile, though my chest felt heavier than my wings ever had. "Fine. Just another day being everyone’s favorite scapegoat." Her frown deepened, but she didn’t push. We retreated to our own building, the atmosphere heavier than any battlefield. Inside, the air smelled of medicine and damp cloth. Young Da-e lay on a mat, pale, her breathing shallow. Bandages wrapped her arms and forehead, stained faintly red. Mother looked up as we entered, worry etched deep into her face. "I tried healing her. It closed the wounds, but... she won’t wake." My fists tightened. Another one slipping through our fingers. Hyun-tae set his shotgun against the wall, his tone calm but firm. "Don’t let their words crawl under your skin. They’re scared. Scared people will always look for someone to blame." I didn’t answer. Because part of me wondered if they were right to be scared. That night, nothing happened. No monster attacks. No screams. Just silence, broken only by uneasy breathing and the occasional creak of old wood. But sleep never came easy. Seo-yeon stirred from her mat, glancing at the shadows, then quietly leaned toward In-Ji. Her whisper was barely audible. "Something’s wrong. When Do-hwan spoke... I almost believed him. I almost wanted to accuse Ye-Jun too." Her brows furrowed. "It was like his words slid into my head and made sense even when they shouldn’t have." In-Ji frowned, finger tapping the side of her pistol. "An ability?" "I think so. Something that can bend thoughts, emotions. Make people side with him." "Then we keep it between us for now," In-Ji said firmly. "We accuse him without proof, we tear the group apart ourselves. Let’s watch. Gather more. Then we tell the others." Seo-yeon nodded, though unease lingered in her eyes. The silence stretched again. And in that silence, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing tomorrow the whispers would only grow louder.