Jimin Oneshots and Sickfics

A Fraction Too Late

Requested by @Krotan

warning: descriptions of injury, violence, blood

-------

Jimin's heart caught in his throat. Someone was following him. In the pitch dark of night, he had no way to defend himself either.

In his pocket, he had cash that he had gotten from the ATM. He had been planning on getting a new book from the bookstore down the street. They only accepted cash.

That probably wouldn't be the fate of those bills, now that he was in this situation.

Hurried footsteps came closer and closer to him. Jimin froze. He knew he should keep moving, keep trying to flee, but panic prevented him from doing anything.

And by the time he figured out what to do, it was far too late.

------

Jimin still wasn't home. Hoseok sighed, looking at his roommate's empty bed. His eyes were closing already. Jimin wouldn't come home faster if he stayed awake. Jimin also was the world-champion at never checking his phone, so texting or calling wouldn't work either.

With a sigh, Hoseok turned out the lights. He curled up in his bed and went to sleep.

-------

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jimin could only swear.

"Money, do you have money?"

Somebody grabbed him and pressed him against a building wall. Jimin gasped and choked. He couldn't breathe. His lungs seized up and flooded with pain.

"I need money, give me money," the person holding him said. "I know you have some."

Their voice was low.

"Ye-yes, money, yes," Jimin choked. He twisted out of the person's grip, his chest and neck throbbing. He reached into his pocket and took the bills out. He didn't have time to feel sorry for himself. The person grabbed the bills. Jimin thought he saw dollar bills shining in their eyes.

His hand was grabbed. Jimin didn't have time to make a run for it.

"Please let me go," he begged. "Please don't hurt me, I'm begging you..."

The person didn't say a single word. They only kept breathing heavily. Jimin felt like he was the verge of tears. Their grip on his wrist was so strong.

They pulled something out of their pocket. It glinted in the streetlight. Sharp, pointy, shiny... Jimin's heart stalled. Oh no, oh no, that was a blade. Oh no. Run. Go. No.

Jimin tried to yank his hand free. He pulled and twisted himself around so he could get out, but the person had an iron grip on him. Jimin couldn't move his hand even an inch. Panic overflowed his mind. His heart was thumping at what felt like two hundred miles per hour. He tried to run, he tried to flee, but he couldn't move at all. And soon enough, it was too late. He watched in slow motion as the person stabbed him in the chest. Jimin let out a scream and toppled over. The blade was ripped out of him.

They fled right after.

Jimin was gasping. The pain started making him dizzy. He couldn't breathe. He was going to die here. His money was gone. He was going to die. His shirt was wet with blood. Oh no, that was a lot of blood. Jimin screamed again. His voice was weakening. So this is what his fate was, dying alone in a back lane.

His phone! He could call for help! He felt around his pocket. Jimin slid his hand down his left one and pulled his phone out. He tapped emergency call in a panic.

The call beeped. The pain worsened. Jimin gritted his teeth. This was his only option.

"Hello, emergency, how may I help you?"