— hᵒᵗᵉˡ

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
TAEMIN: CHECK.
WONWOO: CHECK.
MINGYU: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.
EUNWOO: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
JAIJIN: CHECK.
CHAN: CHECK.

⸢ 1/10 : Unwind ⸥

Injuries were the worst. Chan had his fair share of them from past assignments at his former job in the form of faded scars and sprained muscles. One produced by the magical properties of a doll representing him though? He was utterly confused.

What was this sorcery?

A quick internet search on the topic helped wrap his mind around the concept of the voodoo doll and its purpose. Though Jeon meant it as a gift for their first trip off the island, they inflicted more harm than the joy intended. The use of certain limbsㅡluckily only one of themㅡwere lost for most while the rest suffered from blindness, muteness, total lack of emotions, and amnesia. Chan himself fell into the majority with a useless right arm resting in a sling. (Why did it have to be the right arm?) If he was unable to lift even a single finger then it might as well appear like an injury.

This, hopefully, temporary disability irritated the male to no end. He never realized how much depended on that one arm until it was "gone". Everything challenged his left arm to perform tasks familiar only to his dominant arm and it was a mess. Even right now inside the hotel room provided for them, Chan struggled to get himself ready but he could do it easier than before. Soon he was out the door and standing in front of the hotel, pocket money, a phone, and the blue sling keeping his arm up also with him.

He was in New Orleans, a place he never imagined nor even thought he would be at. It was time to finally embrace his new self, forget his worries, and simply enjoy himself.

*eunwoo

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
TAEMIN: CHECK.
WONWOO: CHECK.
MINGYU: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.
EUNEOO: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
JAIJIN: CHECK.

[ 8 / 9 anonymous -- BLOOD & GORE WARNING ]

He wakes up to the scent of blood. It hits his nostrils like a freight train, iron settling in his lungs. So pungent, he can even taste it, belatedly realizing that there's actual human flesh stuck in the grooves of his teeth. Jaijin runs his tongue over the top row of pearly whites, pink muscle coming away with a string of sticky red.

What happened?

Jaijin sits up, suddenly dizzy with the effort. Looking down he finds his pale torso covered in a series of hickies and love bites. He would find them normal if it wasn't for the dead body laying next to him. Actually...the corpse would be normal, if this was another time and another place - and if it didn't look like it had been mauled by an animal. Open wounds litter the unidentifiable figure. Huge claw marks, deep red and flaking at the edges, depict the struggle of a fight. Sharp teeth, sharp claws - everything points to something that isn't human, lest this murder be staged. Staring at the unrecognizable face (front gone, hollowed out and spilling onto the pillow) Jaijin wonders. Did he do that? A sharp pain digs into his temple at the thought, causing him to hiss and partially close his eyes.

Images begin to flash in his head, coming back with vivid sound and detail.

* FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT *

He was dragged into the room by what seemed to be a stranger, immediately stripped of his top and pressed against the wall. Hungry lips were against his and a tongue forced it's way into his mouth. Jaijin didn't fight back, but he didn't reciprocate either. The other didn't seem to mind, twisting them around and pushing him until Jaijin was falling onto the bed.

Something in him snapped at that moment.

Screams, terrible wails as he dragged the person down with him, fingers digging into biceps and pinning them to the mattress. From there it gets even more hazy, Jaijin's vision tinged with red. He can hear a roar, but it seems so distant. Actual red then splatters over the sheets, points digging into flesh and dragging - opening up. Gurgles can be heard from the other's throat, blood bubbling up and dripping out of the corner of their mouth. Jaijin continues to rip into them with fervor, not stopping until he blacks out.

* FLASHBACK END *

Turning away from the body Jaijin tries his best to remember but doesn't know what exactly happened. It has to be the witch doctor's fault.

Glimpsing his reflection in the mirror Jaijin's eyes trail up his arms. They're covered in dark crimson, powdery against the sheets as it comes off his fingers. His eyes are dark, more so than usual. Not only that, but as he studies himself in the mirror he notices a movement.

Something's /under his skin./

Jaijin tenses, watching the bump ebb and flow just under his collarbone before disappearing again. , what the hell? He's actually starting to freak out now. Is he seeing things? Please, just be seeing things. Jinx - he needs Jinx. There's usually a message somewhere...

Scrambling out the bed, ignoring the lolling head of the dead body and the blood still dissolving off his arms, Jaijin stumbles to the bathroom. A mirror - he needs a mirror. He needs, he needs, he wants-- ! He stops. There's a message in his reflection, black cherry lipstick writing.

'jj what have you done?'

I don't know. I don't /know./ /I don't know./

"Augck--!" he chokes trying to yell, a rasp taking over and constricting his throat. Jaijin coughs, another one's blood dropping into the sink with shards of mirror. He realizes he's slammed his fists into the glass, spiderwebs crawling over and shattering his appearance. He looks menacing, insane, and while he normally wouldn't mind Jaijin finds himself looking away from the storybook villain. His own red mist - courtesy of the broken mirror - begins to drip over the surface. /I don't know./

* AFTER GETTING HIMSELF TOGETHER AND WASHING UP (LMAO) *

Carefully wrapping the bandages around his fingers Jaijin takes one last look at the bed before deciding to leave. It's better to get out now than be caught with them. As he buttons up his shirt (one from the hotel) he reaches up to take the stranger's jacket. Just as he pulls it over his shoulders a note falls out. Staring at it, seeing the paper as an omen, Jaijin carefully bends down to pick it up before opening.

'good job, jj. to be honest
i thought you would have
asked jinx for help. too bad --
he's a little incapacitated at
the moment. want to know
why? visit the church. the
priest there will help you.
for a price.

and remember, always smile! - toothy'

Shuddering, Jaijin quickly shoves the note into his coat pocket and leaves the room, feeling as if anyone could still smell the blood beneath soap.

[the beginning. part 1.]

Tight fingers clutched a small book to his chest. It was rather small, with a golden cross etched onto its cover. Otherwise, it was inconspicuous. It was obvious what book it was. Under the pressure of five lithe, pale and slightly boney fingers it seemed like its worn out pages would suffer permanent damage. A youth in his late tens was standing at the entrance to his hotel room, eyes wide as he stared at the view before him. He had never been somewhere like this before. He had never SLEPT in a place like this before. The corners of his lips curled slightly upwards, his eyes crinkling into concave slits. Underneath the book, covered by a thin, grey cashmere turtleneck, his heart was thundering away with excitement. Who would have thought he'd come to New Orleans after dooming himself to the path of a clergyman. He was quite serious about his identity as a seminarian. While he had never truly believed in god, he had gotten too used to his acting. It was hard to give up. Not to mention he would have a great disguise for his nefarious hobbies. With that thought, all ideas to explore the hotel room were thrown out of the window. For the first time in a long time a sinister sneer danced upon his pink-ish lips. Eyes flashing he tossed the bible he'd been holding preciously into a random corner and pulled a dark hoody out of his luggage. It was thick and bulky, effectively masking his physique. Slipping into it, he immediately pulled the hood over his dangerously flashing eyes. His heart was beating again- still out of excitement, but different at the same time. Eunwoo could practically smell the blood already. Or maybe he was just suffering delusions due to withdrawal symptoms. Keeping his head down low he swiftly moved through the crowds in the lobby. Perhaps a very perceptive person would have noticed his giddy smirk and how he kept his lips as if he couldn't stop thinking about something incredibly delicious.

[ Part 8 ]

One question still remained: what now? Hoseok was free, yes. It was amazing. But.. what did free men do? What did being an ordinary citizen entail? As he contemplated his future, the ex-assassin made his way to his hotel room. They were important questions he needed to address, but for the moment, he wished to simply relax. Of course, nothing ever goes his way simply like that; there was always a catch somewhere.

Upon his return, Hoseok found his room in shambles — furniture was upturned, other items were scattered across, and.. there were.. a few body parts strewn across the room like failed party streamers at a party. The boy just gaped at the scene, petrified. How did anyone find him? As he tentatively made his way into his room, eyes and other sense on high alert, he tried to mentally narrow down the possible suspects. Growing up with Master, Hoseok (or rather J-Hope) had acquired several enemies; he was Master's favourite, and there were innumerable people who were jealous of his privileges. It could be anyone, really.

When the male reached his bed, there was something out of place: a letter. Apprehensive but curious, Hoseok lifted the letter carefully, trying to sense if there was a bobby trap set up for him. It was a simple letter, addressed to "the traitor". Despite the situation, his lips curved upwards into an amused smile. What a creative insult. Hoseok gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, unfolding the letter and scanning it's contents thoroughly.

" To the traitor,

You have wronged us. We took care of you, brought you up, taught you — and what have you repaid us with? An unforgivable crime. To be honest, we didn't think you had it in you, but you were always full of surprises.

What happens when you commit a sin you cannot redeem yourself for? You pay the heavy consequences.

There is a church. There is a priest. The priest is a nice man. The priest must die.

No questions asked, the task must be completed by midnight. Failure to do so may result in.. tremendous amounts of pain and agony. You've just gotten your freedom — wouldn't want it snatched away from right under your nose, now would you?

However, even after completing your task, don't think you'll be let off the hook that easily. This is just the beginning. Remember: the church. The priest. The killing.

— Best wishes,
Your worst nightmare "

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
TAEMIN: CHECK.
WONWOO: CHECK.
MINGYU: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.

[post deleted by owner]

@mingyu k. 〈 kmin A concerned mafiaso heir, a new sight to see. Wonwoo had worked with a lot of gangs for short tines to know the true nature them, unlike the ones portrayed in some romance genres who were lonely, kind and all the he couldn't remember at the moment. Though there were always exceptions and the modest and kind ones appear one in a hundred, witnessing one was another thing. Mingyu's father, he didn't know him on person level, was very strict in his proffesional one. He wasn't the kind type, but he followed the rules of business which was admirable. Wonwoo was genuinely curious about mingyu. "It's not your fault. It's the heels technically and my lack of attention to my surroundings. Don't feel that bad." With a small but sincere smile on is face, wonwoo assured the younger. Mingyu's concerns were enough to make wonwoo feel bad for his own foolishness and he didn't deal well with sorrys.

"I can't say I'm okay but it'll get better soon. I've the strongest pain killer so I'll be able to sleep well. And I'm not hurt anywhere else." Though the scrunch of nose and hisses told otherwise. Good luck sleeping tonight, wonwoo. He consoled himself because he had no intention of worrying mingyu more than he already did. Thankfully he survived without whining like a child he always did and his arm was hurting less with a clothed wrapped tightly around it. Then mingyu with a wet cloth started to wipe his face. It made him laugh. "Is that how they do in intensive care unit?" He questioned lightly but after a moment he realized, he shouldn't have. Now mingyu might say 'my mom did' with a painful expressions. So he quickly changed the topic.

"Anyways, are you serious about staying awake the whole night? We might not get some rest for more than twenty four hours unless things go smoothly." This had been bugging him since the moment mingyu suggested that. Either mingyu was used to staying awake for seventy two hours or he was not tired though today's mess. "If you feel sleepy you can wakee up. Don't hesitate though I'll still say get some rest." He was concerned and his hurried voice showed it. "I'll be sleeping then." He asked mingyu to give him a dosage of tramadol he always kept in his bag. Eat two or three of that and you'll be possibly go high. It helped a lot when he couldn't sleep because of pain. The pain might not go away but least he would get a few hours of sleep. "If a person named Louis The second calls when I'm sleeping, answer it and set up a place to meet for breakfast." Handing a small cheap old style smartphone, the ones with basics to call and use internet, to mingyu, he walked to the other side of the bed. wonwoo got rid off the long skirt he was wearing along with the wig. He was wearing a knee length boxer underneath and he never felt so grateful for being prepared beforehand. "Good night, mingyu!" Settled down on the bed, with his arms resting on a pillow, wonwoo soon fell asleep.

[] Move the flow to anyroom we've haven't used.

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
TAEMIN: CHECK.
WONWOO: CHECK.
MINGYU: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.

CAUTION! TRIGGER WARNING FOR BLOOD AND VIOLENCE
PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THE ABOVE

part 3

"If you have a heart.", he whispered when it was done, the heart still behind broken ribs and the flow of blood ebbing away. "Why did you take her from me? How...? How could you make me do this to her...?"
Of course there was no answer and now... he would never receive one either. The last one who had escaped Sehuns rage in the basement all those years ago, was dead. Nothing but a corpse lying in a pool of his own blood, still and lifeless, bleary eyes staring up at his tormentor.
And where he had expected a rush of power or relief, all he felt was a sense of loss washing over him, like he had just finished the only thing left on his bucket list, leaving him empty and... aching for more.
He had forgotten how it made him feel to take a life.

But now it was over.

part 2

"You !", Jaekwang screeched as he scrabbled for the syringe, squinting down at it out of red rimmed eyes. "What the did you do, you little ?!"
"Nothing.", Sehun replied with a shrug of his shoulder, rubbing the side of his jaw as he slowly picked himself up from the floor, spitting out drops of blood that were coating his tongue. "Just what I wanted to do the entire night."´
He saw the second swing coming, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge it - not with this bad leg. The first aimed at his face caught his shoulder, throwing him backwards and he crashed against the sideboard, making the small television provided by the hotel fall to the floor and break.
Well, another thing he had to pay for in the morning. And the dry cleaning of the sheets of course.
It hurt, but in a good way. Perhaps he had become a masochist? It felt like he was still alive, like the pain in his leg wasn't the one thing to drag him down as anger pushed him back onto his feet, hand lashing out backhand Jaekwang across the cheek and make him fall back into the sheets again. The man fell easily, limbs heavy by the morphine now coursing through his body, eyes half-lidded and heavy.
"Now.", Sehun cooed, turning around to rummage around his bag by the table, pulling out a rolled up leather bag, formerly hidden underneath a couple of old shirts. "Where were we? Oh, yeah, right. I had a question for you."

His leg was cramping terribly as he climbed back onto Jaekwangs lap, the rolled up bag disposed onto the side of his body, flapping open to reveal softly glinting knifes and slender scalpels, all neatly cleaned and rowed up perfectly. "It's a shame you don't remember me.", he breathed out, running his fingers down the mans face, who stared up at him in horror, tongue too heavy to speak by now. "You could have saved your own , if you did."
The taller underneath him started squirming weakly, gurgling something that sounded like a question and Sehun laughed, bitter and cold, before he leaned down and braced himself on his elbows on either side of the others head, almost as if he was about to kiss him. "I was the one working in the basement. Getting rid of all your dirty laundry when you got bored of your toys."
Jaekwangs eyes widened at that for a second and then he started thrashing as hard as he could with the drug weighting him down like stones in his shoes. Sehun could only chuckle at that, straightening again and brushing a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face with a smile that had nothing friendly or soft anymore. "I wondered if you ever looked at me properly, back then.", he started, sounding conversationally as he rolled out the bag by his side, fingertips dancing across silver to choose the right one for this kind of work. He settled on the thinnest he had, pointed and so sharp, he knicked his own finger with it when he brushed his thumb against the blade, testing. "But then I remembered that you were always so busy gloating and boasting about how you smashed their heads in as soon as I had them on my table."
The memories crashing into him had him reeling for a moment, a choked off sound breaking free from his throat as if he was choking on the words, body tipping forward as he brought the blade down on Jaekwangs chest for one precise, slow slice through flesh. The man screamed underneath him, sound muffled by the hand Sehun quickly pressed down over his mouth, limps jerking and quivering desperately like a fish out of the water. His flesh was gaping open under Sehuns eyes then, crimson welling up quickly and drenching his hand, the blade and the bedsheets, tinting them a deep red that almost shimmered under the lights of the hotel room. "Let's see if you even have a heart, bastard.", Sehun decided, bringing the knife down once more.

Breaking bones was easier than people thought. It needed a lot of strength, sure, but the ribs were fragile once freed from muscles and tendons. The tissue was always easy to separate from the bone if you knew how, precise cuts with a scalpel and a little use of brute force to tug the flesh free, letting it flap to the sides like bizarre wings of a butterfly.
Jaekwangs heart had been beating until Sehun had broken open his thorax, pumping more and more blood over him and the bed, smeared across the surgeons face, who had long stopped laughing and talking.

[] Part 8 of Shixuns journey

part 1

The kiss that was pressed into his lips tasted like cheap bubblegum and beer, stale and unpleasant. It was rough, the scratch of stubble against his freshly shaved cheeks painfully chafing and Sehun pressed his eyes shut as he forced himself to unclench his fists and let the cane topple to the floor, along with his dignity.
It had been ages since he last kissed someone, since someone had dared to kiss him. The sensation was strange and yet familiar, almost welcomed as he pressed into it, eyes closed and fingers curled into the soft fabric of Jaekwangs dress shirt, popping a couple of buttons in the process of yanking him even closer.
With his eyes closed, he could almost pretend to like it. Pretend for the one kissing him to be someone else.

It wasn't the same as kissing a woman, not as gentle and soft and warm, but Sehun liked the sensation of it, had always liked it. He had indulged in the pleasure of lying with men more often than people would have thought, what with a beautiful woman waiting for him at home and him decorating his arms with pretty little playthings most of the time. But it had always been the boys that had made lingering impressions on him. There had been this one guy at College, plumb lips and even softer skin, bright brown eyes and skilled hands that had managed to bend Sehun every way he wanted, even while he was the one being on the bottom.
Or the guy he had met on a flight back home from Seattle, broad shouldered but slim waisted, Armani Suit forgotten on the hotel room floor when they had arrived in Seoul together and had shared a taxi in a silent sort of agreement. Easy, simple, nothing to talk about.
He almost lost himself in it, he realized a moment too late, caught off-guard when his back hit a wall and he groaned, pain shooting through the back of his head where he had hit it against the doorframe of his bathroom.
Jaekwang didn't even apologize, all pretense of being the nice one forgotten and thrown out the window, but Sehun could deal with that. He preferred it over the nice smiles and white-collared stories of a job at some boring company, making phone calls all day. ing liar. Sehun knew the truth, knew that this man had made a living out of beating people up, forcing innocent girls to sell their bodies so he could buy a new car - even selling them off completely as soon as he had enough of ing them himself. Or he had beaten them up until they could barely breathe and had delivered them to "the Surgeon", dragging them down into the basement, wrapped up in plastic bags as if they were takeout.
The memory shot through Sehun like lightning, making his toes curl and his eyes suddenly snap open. Hatred. This was hatred - it had to be! Never before had he hated someone as much as this man, this lowlife creature who had dared to take the one thing from him he had cared about. To escape him for years already, to always slip through his net.

Giving Jaekwang a shove, Sehun managed to make him stumble and crash onto the bed, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips that was all predatory and yet his prey didn't seem to notice. Like a lamp walking up towards a lion out of free will. "You're surprisingly strong.", the other man stated breathlessly, settling back on the back on his forearms so he could watch Sehun out of burning eyes. "Didn't think you would show some initiative tonight. You seem so..."
"What?", Sehun smiled back at him, grasping the hem of his black shirt to pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side carelessly as he slowly reached into his back pocket, pretending to make a show out of flexing his muscles under the hungry eyes of his victim. "Docile? Soft?"
"Mhm.", he heard Jaekwang made and he slowly limped forward, dragging his foot across the clean, soft carpet. "Pretty much all of that. Come here, pretty boy."
And oh, he did. Climbing into the others lap, he let his wrists settle on top of Jaekwangs shoulders, careful not to let the man feel the smooth leather of a tiny pouch he was fumbling with behind his back.
Kissing him was easier now that he had gotten over the first wave of nausea, crashing their mouths together so hard his teeth were aching with it, making sure to keep his preys attention all on him and the kiss. If he noticed the syringe now, everything would be lost.
He didn't. The body underneath his own flinched at the sting of the needle against his pulse point and Sehun felt the world tip, sent flying by the hard slap across his face that split his own lip open and made his cheek bruise almost instantly.

@wonwoo j. 〈 jīn |SH| Mingyu's eyes widened in slight surprise. It was his first time hearing Wonwoo laugh and he had to admit, he could get used to that any day. He's seen him smile, a few soft chuckles but for him to laugh brought a smile onto his own lips. "Oh I can imagine all the times you've had to go through this at least seeing you like this assures me you look good doing so." he chuckled, knowing exactly what the other was talking about. In all honesty, he wanted to witness all the other times Wonwoo had dressed up, maybe snap a few pictures of him for future purposes.

With Wonwoo and his broken arm, Mingyu knew certain things would get out of hand, literally. If anything he was concerned about Wonwoo's health, to get a broken arm at a time like this was crucial in completing their mission. "Look- just tell me if your arm continue to hurt, I feel pretty guilty for basically causing your arm to be like that." Mingyu muttered quietly and rubbed the base of his nape eyes glued down to the floor completely. He could feel the guilt rising in the pits of his stomach, if it wasn't for his stupid decision to call out Wonwoo's name, this very incident would've never happened.

Mingyu hurried down the hallway of countless doors before stopping in his tracks to wait for Wonwoo, realising just how fast he kept walking. As the pair walked into their booked room, Mingyu looked around his surroundings. "We'll be safe, I don't think I'm going to be getting much sleep tonight so I'll be out on the watch, we don't know what could be out here...make sure you try and get as much rest as you can, you'll need it." He extended his arm out, gently ruffling Wonwoo's hair before going along his way towards the closet to grab the first aid kit. Mingyu sat down on the bed, it wasn't the least bit comfortable but it was manageable. "Come here, let me bandage up your arm properly." He patted the spot next to him before unravelling the bandage, he carefully took the makeshift sling off of him and proceeded to wrap the other cloth around his arm. Mingyu ripped open a small packet only to take out a wet cloth, he dipped his head forward and wiped Wonwoo's face, paying close attention to the way his eyes were naturally narrowed. "You're not hurt anywhere else right?"

@mingyu k. 〈 kmin "Did you just---" Wonwoo questioned before laughing like he heard the best joke ever though it only lasted for seconds. I must be insane right now to be laughing at a time like this. He thought, groaning soon because moved his muscles. "you've no idea how many times I've to get dressed like this. for special occasions." He was frowning by then, putting stress on 'special occasions'. He believed mingyu was smart enough to know what those two words meant because he wouldn't be explaining that in detail.

"Hmm.. sounds good. We'll do it like that. " There was nothing wonwoo disliked about the plan. And if that unkwon person was still in touch with mingyu's gang, they might be able to get some useful information beforehand and be prepared. With a crippled arm of his they need a lot of luck. "Nah. No need to worry. I know what a hassle it is to be hospitalized. It's not like the first time I'm suffering." He ward his other hand nonchalantly, looking amusedly at the make shift sling and then at mingyu. "Thanks for this. you're a great student." He offered a soft smile. Wonwoo himself never met mingyu's mother, but he could tell the way mingyu spoke of her despite she left them, she was a nice person. "Because of this think I can survive till we reach our hotel and get it bandaged."

The reason why they went through all this trouble of getting disguised and meeting like that was to hide their past identies from the facility staffs. "I had a room booked under another name so I think we'll be safe?" It came out a question than a statement. Wonwoo wasn't sure himself what might happen during the short stay in the world. "Let's go. I think both of us are tired. It'll probably take half an hour, I think, with my slow walking." He started walking at a snail's pace. By the time they checked in at the hotel, wonwoo was ready to sleep. The pain kind of bearable or it was because was tired, hungry and sleepy. "There's a first aid bag in the closet. Get that, please." Wonwoo came here first, set up his luggage and everything needed for their work. The room was simple, a twin bed, a closet and next to it a simple dresser. They're only going to use that if it was necessary so why spend money in luxury that he couldn't even enjoy.

"I know where that person might be.. " He trailed off, while mingyu got the bag. They were going to be busy tomorrow. A lot to do.

@jeongguk j. 〈 jeon |H| TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.
TAEMIN: CHECK.

[ 10 ]
He arrives back at the hotel with a heavy heart, eyes at a constant downcast. His room key is hey in his pocket, held tight by the voodoo doll the witch doctor had given im. Apparently it was his doll. Whatever that meant - a small part of him seemed to know though, what with how careful he was being with it. How patient.. His fingers press gently against the fabric as he waits in the elevator.

The ding startles him. His eyes widen as he steps from the lift and he limps down the hallway, towards his shared hotel room with Bobby. Would he smell the shame on him? THe blood that wasn’t his? The vomit? The bayou? Would he smell the lies that Taehyung lived? Would he be upset with him? Why? Why!? Why him!? The worst part of splitting was coming. The everything. His fingers rip at his hair as he waits outside of his own door, telling himself to just go in.

That no one had to know.

But it was already on the news--

No one had to know.

You dropped the wire cutters in the bayou, the alligators knew --

No one had to know!

The room door beeps as he opens it, roughly, but quietly, closing the door. The choked sob of Bobby leaves his lips as he sheds his clothes, down to just his boxers. He couldn’t go sleep yet though. The doll was placed in his suitcase, gently. Ever so gently. And he limps with purpose to the bathroom .. And that was where he sat for a good thirty minutes. Steam pouring through the room,, Taehyung sitting in a scalding bath, his skin turning from a beautiful sun-kissed tone to an ugly red. Maybe he was styling himself after the woman from the fair?

Maybe the ketchup from the diner?

Maybe the blood from the fair?

A rag drags up and down his skin as he washes away the sin of the day, no longer wanting answers. Only wanting to forget. He felt so alone. So ing alone and it pains him more than the water that was causing blisters to his skin. Pains him more than the constant drag of the rag along his body, chafing and rubbing his skin raw. His stomach churns with displeasure when the water goes from hot to lukewarm …

It was time to get out.

His body reveled in the coolness of the air, and he doesn’t even bother with clothes.. Popping his pills for relief, the tablets laying on his tongue and promising sweet relief for the next nine hours. Just diving straight into bed and curling up under the crisp, chilling sheets. He’d forget.. He’d make himself forget. He’d do something. Maybe Bobby would understand that his boyfriend was psychotic and needed to ‘do something heinous’. He .. Needed to end those lives. His sobs fill the room that night, only lulled to sleep by the tiring pull of his medicine.

cRAp I forgot he wasn't supposed to feel anything -_- ()

Part I. The Letter.

'The world's breath is what we call silence. It gets so quiet in here sometimes— '

There was once a time when Taemin could fit all his limbs and worries in a bath tub. A decade ago, perhaps, where time flies and you've nothing to worry about except for how shiny your shoes look and how sparkly your makeup was. Little Taemin— no, little Minjung was a girl who lived a luxurious life. Bathed in diamonds and glitter and programmed smiles, downloaded applause. She lived in a dream. Fame was a cloud she floated on for years, wherein money rained and rained, and happiness was a shifting wind that came and went. Sadly, dreams only last for so long.

A soft sigh slips past pillowy lips as Min settles his small duffel bag onto the bed. Here, the world whispers in a breeze gentle and salty with the ocean's breath through the open window. Min has never seen the ocean before. He has heard stories. Of how the water rolled and stretched into the horizon, carrying the weight of man's mistakes. The oil, the bodies, the bubbles, all floating in that same body of blue. The only thing Taemin can use to educate himself is through poetry, back when he was at home. The internet: a double-edged sword. But he did get glimpses of the world through words. Just imagining, is enough. Seeing it before his eyes though, is a different experience.

It is, exciting. To be out and about. Freedom is so new to Taemin that it feels like he's been given the steering wheel to his life when he never knew roads existed. It's daunting, and exhilarating, and profound. Scary. The young man leaves the windows open and lets the curtains flux over the wind, placing himself neatly on the bed to dig through his bag of belongings. He didn't bring much. Only a few shirts, some henna for his nails, and also a paste of Indian herbs wrapped in plastic that he uses weekly, for hair growth. Something pink catches his attention from the corner of his eyes and when he turns, Taemin is greeted with a small envelope on his pillow.

He takes it. There is no name, no address. Only his name— his real one, crossed out and his new one written over it. Fear is an ugly hand that creeps forth and reaches out from his past to grab him by the wrist with three syllables: Lee Taemin. His hands shake. He pockets the envelope and decides that he won't risk to read it here.

@hoseok j. 〈 j-hope [ iLY2BBYYYYY ]

@jeongguk j. 〈 jeon |H| [[ ; w ; ❤ Ty mommy ily ; A ; ❤ ]]

@hoseok j. 〈 j-hope [ holy --- I can't even type things like this at the pRIME of my day ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; #superproud ]

@jeongguk j. 〈 jeon |H| [[ A-are you proud of me, I managed to type this crap at 4 am. ; w ;
Sorry for the elementary skills though. ; n ; ]]

[ Part 1 ]

Comprehension: the ability to understand something. At this moment, J-Hope was feeling the exact opposite of that. Bombarded with pulses of headaches, dropped into the one city he feared for life, alone and disoriented — it was a living hell for the poor boy. Attempting to recollect how exactly he ended up here again was a pain; there was a blackhole in his memory, one that he was unsure of how he was going to surpass. But there was a feeling of purpose. A feeling of the need to accomplish something. If there was one thing J-Hope was sure about, it was that he wasn't here uselessly. Someone somewhere somehow had brought him here for a reason. While it was easy to simply enjoy the festival, J-Hope knew that he was here on the biggest mission of his life. Literally. The end of this day would either see a free man, or a dead man — the results depended on his execution.

One of the rules he strongly believed in was not wasting time. Having been brought up in an environment where time was more often than not also used as currency, J-Hope understood fully the significance of his time management. A few minutes here and there could be the difference between life and death. So, without procrastination, he booked a room in a hotel and set up his base.

Despite having been an unofficial slave all his life, J-Hope had learnt several things. And the one thing that had made him what he was today was going to be his Master's demise. J-Hope was nothing if not a skilled assassin; how difficult could it be to take away the life that ruined his? All these years, he had been at the mercy — and disposal — of his Master with no say whatsoever; he was even forced to face the consequences of mistakes he had not made. Today, his Master would pay. J-Hope wasn't sure where this out-of-the-blue feral rage was coming from, but it was fuelling him well.

J-Hope took his time laying out the foundations and was meticulous with every single step. As his plan unfurled, the man got even more antsy — anxious and fidgety — to the point where he had to take a break. And it was in this break that he realized he was not entirely alone. Technically he was, but there was one person who could assist him in seeing this through the end — Myunjae. They were not exactly friends, but J-Hope knew that there was a long-awaited desire to eliminate their boss festering underneath the polite face and smile. They had interacted a handful of times, and it was a miracle they hadn't been at each other's throats — people in the gang generally disliked J-Hope — so he knew that there was a glimmer of chance that this could be pulled off. The only problem was acquiring contact.

A couple hours of reigniting old connections and research later, however, the young assassin found himself dialling a number unknown to him, but there was an unusual feeling of assurance that he was on the right path. The familiar voice at the end of the line a few seconds later confirmed that. After much discussion, the two determined men had agreed to rendezvous at a specific time in the fair; the noise and hustle would provide them
ample cover, without making them look too suspicious. Only once he had stowed his arsenal, and his room secure, did J-Hope step out of the hotel room, ready to embark on the most important but exhilarating mission of his life. Freedom was there at the end of the tunnel; he could taste it.

OPEN.