Bargain (Not Met) (JungHope)

Interlude - Greetings

Wind and howls of the damned whipped around Hoseok's ears. His gravity whirled and swirled until he could no longer tell which way was up or which way led to Hell. Nausea threatened to breach through his composure, and he had to release his death grip on Jungkook's hand to press a palm to his parted lips.

Following his actions, a muted shout escaped Jungkook, drowned out by the moaning souls around them. Hoseok couldn't see his figure clearly, shadowed in the rapidly encroaching void of midnight that surrounded them. So, he blindly reached and grasped for Jungkook's outstretched hand, prayed that he could be steadied into a sense of comfort with Jungkook's familiar touch.

Instead, beyond Hoseok's wildest imagination, a sudden force separated Hoseok from his companions, dragging him to the furthest clutches of pitch night.

Slicing through the wails of the damned, Jungkook cried out, "Hoseok!"

And then the void consumed him.

--

Hoseok wasn't aware of when he had lost consciousness. The last thing he remembered was that he had been floating, lingering in the Hellmouth, surrounded by the miserable laments of haunted souls. Time had passed slowly, sluggishly in that pocket of Hell. Hoseok's sanity withered and threatened to diminish altogether until his body forced him into a state of acceptance, losing tension and eventually allowing him to fall into a deep, deep sleep.

Hoseok, at first, thought he had been propelled back into the library's basement, rejected entry into Hell. But then, he realized that he couldn't recognize the dim features of his previous surroundings.

The space he found himself in was vast and empty, the complete opposite of the library's basement. The mysterious wind that whipped around him during his gut-twisting fall in the Hellmouth was but a chilling breeze along the exposed skin of his face. The ground beneath his back was undoubtedly concrete, but it didn't reek of that damp, mildly moldy scent that infested the library's basement. When he craned his eyes upward, his gaze met pitch midnight. There lay no tell-tale twinkle of the night's faint stars or winking street lamps.

In short, Hoseok had no idea where the fuck he was.

Hoseok groaned and rolled himself onto his side, joints cracking-popping in dismissed protest. He braced himself on his elbow and gently, carefully lifted his battered body from the ground. He brought a hand up to his throbbing, aching forehead, and dug his fingers into his temple, massaging away the echoing shrieks of the damned that lingered in his mind.

When the spirits of the dead no longer hammered their dismays against his forehead—when his bearings had centered and spiked a rush of adrenaline through his body—Hoseok stumbled to his feet. He searched his surroundings for a sign of life, perhaps a notable landmark.

Luck bestowed her blessings upon him for once because Hoseok found himself on the edge of a quaint town, bustling with...life-forms. Not people, surely, because people didn't live underneath the earth.

Despite the oddity of the situation, and against his better judgment, Hoseok approached the entryway of the town. He observed the buildings—the life-forms—with wary comfort. Because the longer he stared, the longer he lingered, the more he realized that there was something...wrong with the townspeople.

Granted, the grand majority of the people seemed relatively normal sans their obviously demonic horns. That was understandable. Hoseok was mildly okay with his dawning situation. Because what else did he expect to find in Hell beside demons? As far as he was concerned, they were humane with their lifestyles and weren't chasing him down for his soul, so Hoseok was okay with being in a demonic town.