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Namjoon in all his lifetimes could not recall a moment in his life where the scent on the walls and carpet stains smelled more like blood. A feat in itself considering the many memories fogged from his former's self drunken on the nectar taste. He had not entered the catacombs but from the darkness laid a lifeless hand peeking through. Loss of any color other than the redden crescent marks on the palm notifying the old vampire that the victim laid in agony as it lost its life.
Where he stood he was safe. Safe from the torments of his passing literally coming back to bite him in the neck. He was safe from the memories of himself, of a version of himself he was not fond of. Now, he was Kim Namjoon: surprisingly young history professor down at the local college. An apple in his student's eyes and a reclude with his colleagues. He was normal, normal—
But he wasn't really. The dark pit alluring him in proved that to him.
Which part of himself called him into the darkest corners of a closed-off cave that his once human self could recognize as the caves he and his brother hoseok would play in when they were younger? The same caves where his brother lost his life so that by the hand of a monster he may live the life of eternity? The caves that expanded to a labyrinth holding more horrors than anyone realized.
Was it the former human in him that wanted to stop the evils from exiting? Keep them buried as nothing more than unpleasant memories?
Or was it the immortal being inside him that was at his master's beck and call even after a century has passed? The bond between a master and maker no matter the relationship was forever strong, forever devoted to one another. Was that the part of him that leads him back to a piece of his old life?
Back to the prison he and his former witch friends had created for the two strongest evils in the world?
A severed head, eyes shot with fear showcasing redness among the eyes and the still wet stains down her cheeks painted the whiteness of her face. Lips stained with her own blood, painted with his last remanence of torture. The head rolled and landed to his feet calling him from his thoughts.
"No, please, take your time explaining yourself. S' not like I've spent an entire century locked up mummified." The velvet voice that once enticed him in echoed through the walls of the caves.
Even with his 1000/1000 vision, Namjoon's sight could not pick up on any shadow that melted with the darkness of the caves. He heard the steps of marvelously fitting dress shoes meet the rocky substance of the cave flooring as the steps came closer to where he stood until the face of an angel crossed the buried from shadows to the glows of the sunshine from the outside.
