Engima | bts mafia au

7.5

Jungkook awakes the next morning in the car. He glances to his left, and again, there sits Taehyung like the day before. He doesn't say a word.

The rest of Bangtan is equally silent. Their focus remains on the road that leads into the same unloved city they were the day before.

"Wow, I must've been tired," Jungkook laughs, trying to break the silence, "I slept the whole way here."

No response.

The boy keeps quiet after coming to the conclusion that this is normal. He's new after all, right? He doesn't know anything about what's going on; he's simply overthinking.

His body tingles numbly as he steps out of the car like a limb that's falling asleep. To his surprise, he sees the same subway station entrance as he did the day before... but that isn't what surprises him.

The tunnel is in the middle of nowhere. There is no building, road, tree, or animal in sight. No noise can be heard. His mind is running so quickly that it prevents him from hearing the mafia's footsteps in the dead grass, or, at least, that was the only reasonable explanation he could find for the absence of noise. They walk faster than he expects, already halfway down the stairs before Jungkook is even able to close the car door. He opens his mouth in an attempt to call after him, but his words die in his throat. Yelling won't be such a good idea. He chases after the group and makes it to the stairs, taking them two at a time before making it fully down into the void station.

When he says void, he means completely void.

There is no trash. No dust. No chipping paint. Nothing remotely extra to the scene.

His heart drops to his feet as he makes a bone-chilling realization.
No Bangtan.

For a second, he considers calling out to them; he whispers a small 'guys?'

Not even an echo.

If he can't find them, surely they're hiding. But why would they up and disappear?

A bloodcurdling scream resonates through the station, jumpstarting Jungkook's heart. Where the fuck did that-

His mother, yet again standing in the same doorway as the day before, clutches her chest and screams in agony. She stares at Jungkook, crying and sobbing without break. It was then he glances down and makes a horrendous discovery: he was shot. No pain. No bullet. No gunshot. Just a blackened stain on his shirt, the surrounding fabric developing a sick red color like a polaroid.

His mind goes fuzzy; the cause he does not know. His mother's scream echos either in his head or in the station, or even both, he can't tell. Nothing seems to make sense, nothing seems to add up. This dystopian situation is too much for him to handle, and right as he drops to his knees and his mind goes blank, a searing pain invites itself to Jungkook's shoulder.

He falls backwards, his eyes getting heavy and the noise getting muffled.

He then shoots up in bed with a phantom pain in both his shoulder and his abdomen, short of breath but not short of fear and confusion.