Pretty Little Thing || PJM || ✔️

16.

"No," Jimin's voice was little more than a whimper. He could already hear the footsteps coming up the hallway towards his room, and he felt his muscles freeze in terror. The door was open.

Why was the door open?

Why was he even home?! He had fallen asleep in Dr Mins office, covered up by Jungkooks jacket.

"My pretty little thing," The croaky, gurgling voice cooing gently up the hallway snapped him out of his terror. He ran to the door, and slammed it shut without looking out into the hallway. He clicked the lock shut and stumbled back when the demon began to bang angrily on the other side.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang.

Remembering Yoongis words, Jimin quickly dropped to his hands and knees, searching around the floor for the eye mask. He found it outside the wardrobe on the floor, and pulled the bunny shaped mask over his eyes.

The banging and scratching on the door were more insistent now, and with a whimper of fear, Jimin quietly slipped into his wardrobe, closing the door tightly and curling up in the corner, resting his face on his knees.

The sound of his bedroom door crashing open made him jump, but he slapped a hand over his mouth. He was not going to let her find him.

"I'm here, pretty little thing," The voice was deep and quiet, sending shivers down Jimin's spine. The hair on his arm was standing up, and he felt a single tear roll down his cheek when he felt the vibrations of the demon running its long, sharp fingernails over the wardrobe door.

"Malam will find you, pretty little thing. You're mine now. There's no escape,"

---

"What's he doing?!" Jungkook had tears in his eyes as he watched his friend slam the bedroom door and lock it, before dropping to his hands and knees on the floor, searching for something.

"The eye mask!" Yoongi exclaimed, spotting it sticking out from under the bed. He picked it up and placed it carefully just infront of the wardrobe. Seconds later, Jimin found it, and with a whimper that made their hearts break, pulled it on and climbed into the wardrobe.

"How can we help him?!" Namjoon cried, grabbing Hoseok's shirt, "He's trapped and we're doing nothing!"

"There's nothing we can do!" Yoongi cried, pulling Namjoon away from Hoseok, "All we can do is look for the thing the Kamatayana is attached to! We can't do anything to help him, because everything is li-"

Yoongi was cut off by the bedroom door being thrown open. All four of them jumped, but there was nothing there, even when Yoongi went to look.

"It's here," Hoseok hissed, staring around the room with serious eyes, "It's in the room with us,"

"What do we do?" Jungkook whispered, reaching out and clinging to Namjoon, "We have to help Jimin!"

They turned their heads as the desk under the window lifted a little, before flying and crashing into the opposite wall near the bedroom door. 

"Fuck, what do we do?"

"We search!"

---

Jimin was clenching his teeth so hard together that his jaw was beginning to ache.

Why hadn't he woken up yet?

Where were his friends, why hadn't they woken him up?"

Suddenly, he realised what had happened. He was trapped here because of the tablets he had taken to help him get to sleep. There was no escape until the tablets effects wore off.

It wasn't just a dream.

It was reality wrapped up inside a dream.

There was no escape.

"Malam will find you," The voice called out again, and he held back a whimper as he heard the loud crash of something heavy hitting the wall.

It hadn't even thought to look in the wardrobe yet. But what was 'Malam'?

He lifted his head, his hand reaching to his pocket. Malam. The Demons name. 

As quietly and carefully as he could, he lifted the eyemask just a little and pulled his phone from his pocket. It had a battery warning, but he quickly swiped it away and opened up his text messages. It might not work, but it had to try.

He sent a message to Namjoon, and turned the phone off, just in case it started making noise.

He could hear the demons footsteps echoing around in the room just outside where he was hiding. He held back a sob as he heard the nails scratch along the wardrobe again.

If he stayed hidden, he'd be fine.

If he stayed quiet, he would be fine.

The footsteps had stopped.

He'd be fine, don't look at it, keep quiet.

The fingernails were gently dragging up and down the wardrobe doors.

He'd be fine, just don't look. Don't make a sound

It knew he was in there.

Don't make a sound, don't look.

The slow creak as the door opened. 

He could feel the tears running hot down his cheeks.

It had found him.

The heavy, ragged breathing got louder, and he felt hot air on the bare skin of his face.

"Such a pretty little thing,"