vox diabolus. » bts

QUADRAGINTA QUINQUE

"what?"

out of confusion, seokjin rubs his eyes. it was still jeongguk sitting on the floor, propped up by the wall. he blinks hard. it was still jeongguk. he blinks again. it was still—no. 

it wasn't.

he could feel the effects of the drug clearing inside his brain when he realized jimin was bound by a rope—one was wrapped around his ankles, and the other was wrapped around his arms. seokjin backs away, his head throbbing—he could feel panic and confusion boiling up inside.

"was jeongguk... just somebody you... made up?" jimin groans, speaking softly. "it was... it was only you inside... here. the door was unlocked... i... walked in... and something hit me from the back... and i blacked out. when i..." jimin coughs. "when i woke up, i was... i was t-tied up. and you... i can't believe that you..."

"no," seokjin shakes his head violently, his hands trembling. "i didn't do this."

jimin's eyes stare back at him almost menacingly, full of betrayal, hurt, and blame. jimin's lips quiver, attempting to use what was left of his strength to tell seokjin something. his blood soaked lips stop moving, and life was sucked out of his eyes. jimin looks back at seokjin emptily, his big, round, glossy eyes resembling one of a dead fish boring a hole into seokjin's head.

seokjin could feel his stomach thud to the ground. his heart races out of panic and fear. he looks down at his hands, and it is soaked in blood. he looks down at the floor. it was also soaked with blood.

and it wasn't jeongguk's. it was jimin's.

all the rage inside of him seemed to dissipate. he ran to jeongguk's room, opening the door and looking around. everything was still there.

no. not everything. the suitcase was missing. everything that mattered was missing.

had he been imagining everything this whole entire time? no, no. he possibly couldn't have. he wasn't insane. he wasn't. he wasn't!

"i'm not crazy!"

seokjin huffs, clenching his teeth together out of frustration and repeatedly balling his hands up into fists. another wave of a migraine hit his head, and so he crouched down, his head in his hands.

seokjin could feel his heart thrashing against his ribs uncontrollably when he heard police sirens approaching. he hurriedly looks outside, and a couple of police cars were already stationed around the entrance of his apartment building. he could feel a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face.

he stumbles across the room in panic, tripping over furniture in given haste. he pulls at his hair in distress, his breathing quickening at an unhealthy speed. seokjin hears a knock at his door. seokjing doesn't answer. then two. seokjin still stays quiet, hanging on to a centimeter of hope, hoping they would leave if he did so. 

then, his door was knocked down, accompanied with a loud crash.