Sin City | Yoonmin Mafia AU [VKook]

Ephialtes

Jimin can hear a music, a choir of some sort. He's never been into a real church. The deep sound is intimidating but Jimin moves forward, ignoring the shiver that runs through his spine. Across the church right in front of a large painting of Pieter Bruegel, The Fall of the Rebel Angels, were eighteen children not older than ten standing in three rows, all wearing white one-piece gowns. Their singing is loud, creepy and as hollow as the deepest darkest pits he's only ever heard tales about.

It takes him a few seconds to notice this is a different church from the one in prison.

How did he end up here?

The room suddenly gets colder.

Something feels wrong.

His gaze fell upon a young boy standing at the center of the front row. His pupils have filled most of his eyes. Cold just like the room, an eye without soul. It makes Jimin quiver in fear. He doesn't like the kid.

Jimin's eyes travels to the kid's hands. Red. They're so red. Blood dripping down the floor creating a pool of crimson. The smell of iron is so strong he feels sick and he really really wants to leave this place.

Jimin tries to takes a step back as the kid moves forward but he can't. His body disobeying his mind. He feels paralyzed, naked, cold as the kid comes closer. The choir gets stronger and stronger the closer the boy gets.

Louder and louder.

The boy is only two steps away.

They're almost screaming.

Jimin whimpers as the boy stands just an inch away from him.

He is too close. Too close Jimin doesn't like it. And he notices how there is no white spot in his eyes anymore.

The kid raises an arm and Jimin whimpers as he feels a warm sensation on his forehead, the kid trails his palm across his face, smearing it with blood.

Jimin wants to scream for help and he feels he might die from pure terror. It's too much, everything is too much. The choir is too loud, the smell of blood is too strong and the kid... the kid's lips part and his voice comes out in a strange hissing sound. Jimin can't figure out his words. It's not Korean.

And then suddenly he's not cold anymore.

It's too hot.

It's too hot he feels as if his clothes are melting on his skin.

The kid stops talking, eyes narrowing as he slams his palms against his chest and this time Jimin screams as he falls.

He falls and he goes down...

Deeper...

Darker...

There aren't words to describe the feeling of utter doom and desperation...

It's too dark...

His eyes snap open and as cliché as it sounds, he really wakes up with a jolt. It takes him a few seconds to notice that no, it's not the room that is hot. But he is. His body is clammy and sweet is literally dripping down his forehead, mixing with tears as they cascade his burning face and onto the pillow.

The voices are gone but It's still too dark, he doesn't like it.

He lifts his hands from where he is tightly clutching the sheets, checking them under the minimum lights that comes from the projectors in prison's yard.