This is an old story, i haven't wrote it in a while. I know it's not top notch or anything like that, but please be kind and gentle. Hope you'll enjoy it. Back in 2005, i was going through a heart break, and didn't know anything about the asian culture. Sorry if its not good.

Prologue:

Modern Times

Song Min-Sung:
The sun sets low as I sit down on the wooden chair, drinking black coffee at a local Starbucks. “You sure you want only black coffee?” The old woman with a wrinkled forehead and a toothless smile says. “We got lots o’ flavors.”

“Yes,” I reply. “I like black coffee, a lot.”

I don’t reply to anymore of her questions, but the fact is, I’m waiting. I’m waiting until Ku Soo-Yun shows up. The hour passes as I pause at each sip of my coffee, swallow the blackness and then lick my lips hungrily. I honestly do not like coffee, never could stand it since Columbus or some other European explorer discovered the cocoa beans. I only drink it because that’s the only thing my body could tolerate.

Young lovers catch my attention, for they are sitting in a booth next to mine, holding hands, laughing, drinking white creamy coffee together. My heart wrenches at that sight. I never could do that with any woman I have met.

The sky gets darker, and just, as the sun was about to disappear, as if on cue, many people began to leave Starbucks. Maybe its because its near closing time. But just as all leave, except the old lady, Ku Soo-Yun enters, wearing high black heels, sunglasses, and a long leather coat with black skirt. It wasn’t odd to see her dress in black.

“Hello,” she greets the lady. Her voice was soft as the coffee that the lovers shared, and, twice as delicious. “Vanilla Latte please.” Without a word, the woman began making her a Vanilla Latte. I don’t respond. She knows I’m here.

Slowly her head turns around, and she sees me. “Min-Sung,” she greets me and her voice, which before was a velvety smoothness, turns harsher with every letter she says out loud.

“Soo-Yun.” I greet her back. She looks the same, almost the same when I first saw her during the reign of General Yi Song-gye in 1392. I was seventeen then, and am still even now.

With a ferocious move, she angrily takes off her sunglasses and now I could see her eyes, those deep black pools of hatred. While I have existed as a vampire for 708 years, Soo-Yun was probably a vampire for more than a thousand years.

Finally, after a staring contest of wills, she turns her head away as her serenity returns to her in small steps. “It’s been a long time,” she replies.
I nod my head. It has been one hundred years since we saw one another last. I saw her in 1800s and pretty much had to pose as being Chinese. I was being imported to USA to work at building railroads at the time. “How did you find me?” I ask her carefully. Dealing with Ku Soo-Yun is dangerous. Ku Soo-Yun could be as fast as a legendary dragon, and her thoughts are never revealed. When Ku Soo-Yun finds a person, it could either be for one thing; to kill or to hear update. 90% of time, its usually to murder someone. Ku Soo-Yun, despite her delicate looks, is as deadly as venom of a snake.

“I always do,” she replies, brushing off dust from her long leather coat. She put her sunglasses on and brushed her black hair to the side. She sits down across from me, insignificantly the tip of her shoe touching my knee as small electric flashes fly. I bite my lip, still nervous to be around her. I go to great lengths to hide my identity. Song Min-Sung is my real name. I’ve had this name since childhood. Song, my last name, I took it when my unknown descendants took the name.

I shrug. So she has found me again, broken all the codes, hacked into all computers. Its odd how little I care for my life now. 708 extra years can do that to you. “Okay,” I replied back, using my left hand to brush back my hair. “Why do you want to meet with me?”

Ku Soo-Yun shrugged. “It’ll be clear soon, Song Min-Sung.”

“Is it to kill me?”

Ku Soo-Yun laughed, a trill sound. I didn’t fall for it, as she probably would’ve expected me to do it. I’ve grown up since last time we met. “Song Min-Sung,” she began, her voice holding high amusement. “No, I’m wondering if you know a girl named Ching Tsao-Lin.”

“I don’t,” I reply.

She looks at me thoughtfully, her thoughts more dangerous for me. I’m not lying. “All right,” she finally replies. She picks up her cup and drinks it down delicately, the lips not touching the rim. Only someone with her grace can do that. I still hadn’t mastered the skill yet. “I shall see you around then,” she gets up, on her way throws the cup away, and exits Starbucks, leaving me sitting alone, sighing in relief that she was gone.

I did feel relief that she was gone, but I felt pity for Ching Tsao-Lin, whoever the poor girl was. I knew she was Chinese. I wonder her relation to Ku Soo-Yun.

Tangwongsan Chai:

I hide underneath the world, not leaving, just lying still. I’m not lucky today, when I received that accursed phone call, I knew she had come to find me, to get rid of me. Ku Soo-Yun had finally found me, and, instead of facing her as I had one thousand years ago around 1000 A.D., I became a coward and just let her make me into her. My current age, 1,021. I was 21 when I became what she became.

On the hot day of April, I was sitting down, a phone near my hand when my secretary called and said, “A woman wants to talk to you.”

I wasn’t startled at first, expecting my client Sarah McCall. She told me she’d call me once she gets enough money to pay my team and me. I picked up the phone casually. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hi,” the voice on the other end was sultry, thick and inhumanly smooth. No human voice could be as smooth as hers. It was she, my worst enemy, Ku Soo-Yun.

I cursed inside. How did she find me? I went to great lengths to hide from that treacherous woman! I know that one day she’d find me. It has been one thousand years since last I saw her. Ever since that day, I’ve been hiding out, not wanting for her to find me.

But now, I hear her footsteps, her high black boots striking the glass tiles, almost with force. Instead of being worried about my life, all I wonder and hope is that she didn’t break the glass tiles. When I’m in trouble, I always focus on small details rather than big details.

Her footsteps came closer and closer to where I crouched down, blending into darkness. All of a sudden they stopped, and I know she found me. “Well,” Ku Soo-Yun said. “Look who’s here.” Her voice wasn’t jovial, but in fact it was angry. I took away the time she had.

I got up, dusted off my clothes and presented myself to her. I don’t know anything about her, not even when she first made me who I am. “Hello,” I greeted her as if it was an everyday occurrence.

What is she here for? For nothing, I hope. “Lets go to Starbucks,” she offers me. I gesture outside and the time shows its 10:00 PM.

“Its dark, and Starbucks is closed.”

She looks thoughtful. “All right.” I still have no idea what she’s doing here, or what she wants. I was nothing to her, just as she is nothing to me. I may have been a coward back then, but I don’t think of myself as a coward now. But I’m being a hypocrite. Hiding from her is a true sign of being a coward.
“How’s life going?” I sound controlled, which I pride on myself for doing, but deep inside all I could do is quiver at the thought of her killing me. I don’t want her to kill me. Odd that despite living one thousand years, I want to keep on living.

She slightly cocks her head in confusion and using her right arm, with controlled stroke, brushes her hair away. “I’m not here to exchange pleasantries,” she says right off the bat. “I’m here for information, Chai.”
“What information?” I ask her.

She doesn’t answer, instead licks her lips slowly and roughly.
I repeat my question. She’s probably a master of suspense. But I know little of her.

“Might you know Ching Tsao-Lin?” She asks.

I shake my head. “I never had such customer Ku Soo-Yun,” I tell her. “I’m sorry that I don’t know you’re talking about.”

No emotion or control outside her peaceful countenance. Its as if she expects me to say no. I don’t disappoint her. She remains quiet, and I know she’s searching me out, trying to find out my lies from my truths.
Finally she stands up. “Well, nice seeing you again Chai, I hope to talk to you later.”

I nod my head as if I actually believe her lies. Both of us know she’s lying straight through her teeth. I don’t say any more words as Ku Soo-Yun gets up leaves. All I could do is sigh with relief.

Takigawa Fujimoro:

Curses, curses! I thought as I picked up my ancient katana angrily. Why today of all days? Why not tomorrow or better yet, never. I still miss those carefree days of being only sixteen, a promised husband to Isako Fukushima. But, the days have gone by, never to be regained.

I keep my katana above the computer that lines my desk. I pace back and forth, my shoes striking the tiles of my private office. It was only just now that Ku Soo-Yun called, informing me of the surprise visit. “Just to talk,” she told me before I hung up the phone. To talk, right. Last time we talked back in 1100s in Japan, she turned me to be similar to what she is, never aging, never becoming older.

I’m not afraid of her. Sure her powers are more powerful than mine could ever be, but I never am afraid of that skinny Korean. I should’ve died on that long ago day, but no, I shamed myself by choosing life, and, very soon, I exiled myself from Japan and lived in the mountains.

I didn’t return until 1300s when everyone for certain had passed away. But, enough of memories I order myself. In my office, where I expect Ku Soo-Yun to show up, I pour in a bottle of light champagne, the light bubbles breaking the surface and popping into two tall-stemmed glasses. I drink champagne nearly everyday. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane and reminds me of Sake, a Japanese alcoholic drink.

The hour grows late, nearly 12:00 AM when the door opens roughly and in enters Ku Soo-Yun. She looks very smooth, and very black. She stands up, until with my hand I motion a chair for her. Being a gentleman, I sit her and give her a glass of champagne. “Thank you,” she replies in a smooth inhumane voice. I hope she didn’t come here to kill me. I’d rather kill myself than let a Garlic Eater kill me. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” She begins.

“You are not,” I reply, aware of my manners and how I should behave around her. “In fact, Ku Soo-Yun, is there anything that is bothering you?”

“No.” she replies. Both of us know she lies, but the pleasantries and manners are important to me. Always have been.

I pass her the sushi, picking up chopsticks and oh so carefully, using a tiny piece of fish pick it up with my chopsticks and eat it. I ask her three times if she wants to eat. She says no three times, and then finally she takes a piece of sushi, just as carefully as I, and places it in her mouth. Our conversation then begins. It mostly is over pleasantries. After we’re done however, she springs the news.

“Do you know Ching Tsao-Lin?” She asks delicately. I pick up and put away the tall-stemmed glasses and wash them by hand.

“No,” I reply, stopping for a minute before resuming again. “I’m sorry to say I do not.”

Ku Soo-Yun looked slightly put off for a minute. I wondered why that Chinese woman was important to her. I wasn’t lying. I didn’t know her. She sat there for a minute, scanning my thoughts, I know and then she got up and for the first time, paid me a 100-dollar bill. “Thank you,” she said then she closed the door and exited. I don’t concentrate on too much of a person’s movement or looks. I felt sorry for the mentioned woman, just as I felt sorry for Isako Fukushima.

I picked up the plates, threw away chopsticks and slowly washed the dishes. I refused to hire servants simply because I felt if I did human things, then my humanity would remain.

Ku Soo-Yun never scares me. To me, she’s a spoiled child who never knows what she wants. I never see any mystery in her. But it doesn’t matter. All I can hope is that I’ll never see her again.

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Once you go Asian, you'll never go caucasian

I feel like your characters, starting to have a distaste for Ku Soo-Yun.

But I like your story I can feel your character anxiety and tension when she comes to see them.

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I'd rather be out in the summer rain
Getting soaked yeah I wouldn't complain
But I think too much and I'm left to blame
Feeling strangely the same
I'm drawing pictures around your name
Conversation slowly sketched away
With the words I could not say
Couldn't find anyway

Wow Did you write that by yourself ?

awsome!

I hope i can write something like this. But apparently my grammar isnt as good. Great job sveta!

What do ya think? She had a ghost writer or something? jk.

LOL, wrote it myself actually, and proud of it hehe. Glad you guys like it. Let me know if you'd like to read more of it. Guess i'll continue writing more of the story. Thanks for helping me reach the decision.

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Once you go Asian, you'll never go caucasian