The Sun, The Moon, and The Blood Between Them

by 6_bear_6

Summary:

Vampires, witches, faeries.

Werewolves, sorcerers, warlocks.

Donghyuck is thrown into an entire world of wonders—one that is obsessed with words and a painting—that might just kill him.

Chapter 1: Strangers

Notes:

It’s finally here!!! Chapter 1 is finally finished, and I’m so, so happy with it. Hopefully you are too! Please, if you can, leave a comment after reading. It really motivates me and I would love to know what you think about how this new chapter 1 sets the rest of the story up, or just if you enjoyed it in general! Have fun and I hope you like it!

Edit:
Okay so I made minor changes, but im like actually working on the second chapter this time, so I was doing some cleaning to set it up. Sorry for the wait!

 

“Look at that,” the cashier leaned forward on one elbow, propping his chin up with his hand. He looked across the small store, watching a customer pick through the stock with muted interest. 

“Hey, have you found the z-score yet?” The voice came from beside him, on the counter. 

He ignored it. “I think she’s gonna get something new tonight.”

The voice sighed. “Dude.”

“I think she’s going for the chips.”

“Hyuck.”

“Jeno, you’re missing it—look.” The girl was twisting a finger around a clump of her long brown hair, looking between the drink coolers and the chip rack. 

“Donghyuck, c’mon.”

Donghyuck frowned, turning to the guy beside him. “What? This is pretty important.” 

“And the test we have tomorrow isn’t? This is why I don’t study with you,” Jeno looked across the room, hunching over to what must have been a painful extent so he could be eye-to-eye with his friend. Yet, despite his tone, he was smiling. “Five bucks she’ll get that stupid,” he waved his hand like he was pushing aside the wrong names in search of the right one, “peach fizz—what is it? Peach fizzer?”

Donghyuck shrugged a shoulder instead of answering, only muttering a focused ‘you’re on’.

Jeno sat back up and shrugged back. “I’ve never seen anyone but her drink ’em. “ 

Abruptly, she spun on her heel and swung open the cooler door. Out of the corner of his eye, Donghyuck could see his friend turn to him with a straight-up rotten grin. “I will be awaiting that sweet victory Lincoln. Five Washingtons will also be acceptable.” 

“Whatever.” Donghyuck grumbled, sucking his teeth. The girl tossed three loose singles in their direction and muttered a hurried ‘keep the change’ that trailed behind her even after the gas station door cut her off from their sight. Donghyuck scoffed. That’s not enough to pay for it.

He and Jeno both worked there, in the old, middle-of-nowhere station where they sat, and Donghyuck hated every minute of it. Not only did he work night shifts, but he also often went hours without seeing a single soul—nothing to do but cast his gaze over the snack racks and play the same rhythm games on his phone as he always did.

Even with the shitty CCTV cameras looking over his shoulder—everyone knew he barely worked. 

Their general manager, a slender man nicknamed Ten because of his ten-letter-long first name, makes a conscious effort to keep the two of them from being scheduled together. “You guys get along too well. Can’t have you enjoying work too much, can I?” His eyes had crinkled at the time as if it was especially funny. 

The reason Jeno was there now was to force Donghyuck to be his study buddy. It obviously wasn’t working.

Donghyuck’s voice danced with the steady rhythm of Jeno’s heels thumping against the front of the counter. “I don’t need to study.” This was a stretch; Donghyuck hated math, so much so that he didn’t really bother learning it. “Neither do you, really.” They’d been at it for three hours now. Jeno had waltzed in thirty minutes after the start of Donghyuck’s shift with arms full of textbooks and loose study guides. To be fair, Jeno’s budding calculus degree had come in handy enough times to keep Donghyuck from complaining about it too much. It certainly helped him with his biochemistry class.

Jeno rolled his eyes and bit back a yawn. “Don’t come crawling to me later when you need to cheat.” He slid down from his seat, swooping to pick up the loose bills and slap them on the counter. “I’m going home. Make sure to lock the door behind you when you get back.” 

Donghyuck hummed noncommittally and moved his eyes to track his friend until he couldn’t see him anymore, the door right out of his peripheral vision.

When the bell hanging above the door—dangling by a thin thread that was thumbtacked to the ceiling—stopped jingling a soft goodbye to Jeno as he disappeared into the night, all that Donghyuck was left with was the faint, hypnotic thrum of the LED lights and the crackly sound of whatever classical song was stuttering through the overhead speakers. ‘Real music’, Ten called it.

 

---

 

After about thirty minutes the squawk of an old cuckoo clock shot across the room, making Donghyuck start in his seat. Signifying the turn of the hour, the bird screamed at him once, twice, before returning to its clockwork home. He grumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to wobble himself into a position of balance—a pastime that had given him many a bruise and what caused the stool to be as broken as it was now.

Then there was what came next: The train.

It was a twice-a-day hurricane, storming past the small station every time the clock hit some sort of two. He could already hear it coming, a purr deepening into a growl. He could see it, too. Dust from the cheap ceiling tiles fell from above like ashes, cradled in Donghyuck’s orange locks like snow. The floor shook beneath him, scaring the racks into tossing their snacks to the floor, knocking around the loose coins in the cash register, and jostling Donghyuck enough to where he had to suck his bottom lip between his teeth to stop them from chattering against each other. 

Just when he was about to fall, his little balancing game growing more dangerous the closer the train got, he stuck a leg out and put a foot flat on the floor. The stool hit the tiles in time with the generator surge—lights flickering around him.

The locomotive roared at Donghyuck as it reached its crescendo—a poorly planned bend in the tracks far too close to the building—and then, soon enough, it was gone. 

Before the noise had faded entirely, he was sliding over the counter, seeking out a broom. 

He settled into a steady groove—out, slide, out, slide—and swept up everything he could reach. If Ten watched the cameras back (though at this point they might as well be for decoration), he would see exactly why the numbers didn’t seem to add up when he took stock—the dustpan was close to bursting with debris, one part ceiling dust and three parts bags of chips and candy, all of which Donghyuck was definitely going to throw away; too lazy, too caught up in his thoughts, to care about whether they ended up back on their shelves or not.

Humming along with the song that sputtered out of the speakers for the third time now, he pretended he was swaying side to side at a ball, chandeliers casting rainbows over the faces of women in poufy dresses and men in colorful suits. A fairytale where he had gold-lined wings, and his friends had hands and eyes that sparkled with stars and glitter—where pretty boys asked him to dance with a kiss on the back of his knuckles, and dark, handsome ones let their eyes linger on him as he shimmered around the room. 

He dreamed until he had swept his way to the back of the store. Donghyuck giggled, soft as a secret, and just as he did the sound of the entrance bell snapped him back to his reality—jarring LEDs, filthy floors.

Embarrassed, Donghyuck emptied the dustpan, then slid back over the counter, hoping whoever had walked in hadn’t seen his show. He fell back into the station’s air of relative quiet, thumping his toes against the base of the counter.

When people did come around, they were either the same creeps in unmarked vans—the ones who snuck around to the train tracks behind the building—or the same listless, late-night workers who just come in, grab what they came for, and leave money somewhere where Donghyuck could probably find it on their way out—like the girl from earlier. Nothing nearly interesting enough, unless he was truly desperate for a distraction, to warrant Donghyuck’s full attention. So, he didn’t turn to look at who stepped inside at first, figuring they’d take their pick and leave their cash on top of the small stack of bills that Donghyuck hadn’t bothered to put away yet. 

But then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that there were three of them. 

Two moved, muttering amongst themselves and shuffling to where Donghyuck could only catch the tops of their heads by the time he looked at them, but one of them stayed put, lingering by the door. 

It was a boy—a cute boy, looking around his age. 

The way the shitty LEDs played with his image made him toe the line between a daydream and reality; Donghyuck thought in passing, but in any lighting, the guy still would’ve stood out like he did then. 

His hair was a wreck, black as the night sky and crowded high on his head, shying away from his face. Clumps of strands stuck out all over, decorated with scarce, thin braids intertwined with the stems of tiny flowers, a soft look despite his serious expression. The too-bright lights above his head caught on his high cheekbones and casted shadows that made his cheeks look hollow and solemn—and his skin look ghostly. His thin lips were curled, the corners tugged into a pensive frown. 

The most peculiar thing about him, in Donghyuck’s opinion, was his outfit. A maroon waistcoat pressed neatly and buttoned over a black dress shirt with matching pants and shoes. The stranger’s eyes scanned Donghyuck from where his waist could be seen behind the counter to his hair. Then, both of their gazes met. 

The naturally wide eyes, the serious, pouty frown—his outfit straight out of Donghyuck’s fairytale. He sat a little straighter, fixing his slouch.

The boy raised his eyebrows. He seemed to realize two things—Donghyuck had been looking at him for too long, and he had been looking at Donghyuck for too long.

“Excuse me,” the boy’s eyes flitted around the room, avoiding him, “is Ten here?” His voice was clear and smooth, if not typically adolescent.

Donghyuck shook his head and squinted at him, trying his best to connect the dots of why on earth this man, one, knows his boss, and two, wants to see him. He never knew Ten to be someone who hangs around people like the boy in front of him—not to be rude—but, Donghyuck supposed, you learn something new every day. 

“I see…”

His two friends, Donghyuck assumed, called the boy over, and before he snapped himself back into motion he offered one last lingering look at the cashier. 

He joined them in five long strides, his voice joining the other two’s chorus of murmurs. 

Donghyuck also realized two things, but only as the other two figures stepped into his direct line of sight, snacks in hand. 

He had never seen these men before, just like he had never seen the one with the flowers in his hair,

And,

His boss must’ve been caught up in something weird across town because these men weren’t from the north side.

One of the figures was as, if not more, strange as the well-dressed boy with black hair, and Donghyuck had to pinch the inside of his thigh to make sure that he really was back to reality.

He wore a large, flowy cloak covering most of his body. The base color was a deep, rich navy blue, and along the edges of the entire garment was a spiral of gold thread, being not only the trim but also the gold loops that clung to the six gold buttons along the front. 

The hood of the cloak was thrown over his head, but from under it, Donghyuck could see tufts of pastel pink hair and eyes that glinted like a wayward cat’s. Unfortunately, the rest of his features were cast in too much shadow to see—impressively so, given how the strong LEDs seemed to reach everything. 

Donghyuck slid towards the register as they approached, cringing at the screech the stool made beneath him. 

The man—Donghyuck couldn’t really tell, but something in the way he walked made him think it was a guy—smiled, which was also just a guess, but Donghyuck thought he saw a flash of white teeth reflect light from under the hood, and placed down a can of peach fizzer.

Of all things, he thought, and had to bite his cheek to hold back a smile. Okay, get it together. Don’t be mean, don’t laugh.

“Will this be all?” Donghyuck tilted his head to the side, half trying to seem as normal and un-astonished as possible and half trying to sneak a glance at the other man he hadn’t been able to get a good look at. The cloaked figure in front of him shook his head, no, and stepped to the side, revealing their third.

He was disappointingly normal. Fluffy brown hair that reached an inch below his ears, a light gray jacket that was zipped up just enough to cover half of the red graphic tee underneath, and red and black flannel pajama pants. He was, in comparison, quite out of place in the trio. The only thing to note about him was his sly eyes and pouty lips—as well as the gold crescent moon earrings dangling from his lobes.

The man in the cloak, who, Donghyuck thought, was still smiling what felt like a mischievous smile, reached out and grabbed what the plain-looking boy had been holding in his hands, a lemon seltzer, and set it on the counter with a flourish that made Donghyuck think he was trying to show off—or hide something, like a sleight of hand trick.

Then, he spoke—and he was indeed a he. His voice was deep, and there was a cadence to it that reminded Donghyuck of a stage host introducing the next act of a show. “And, Mark?” 

Mark, apparently the one with the waistcoat, rolled his eyes at the theatrics and stepped closer, tossing his items, a small bag of salt and vinegar chips and a bottle of spring water, onto the counter, and then crossing his arms over his chest. 

“That’s all.” The hooded man was definitely smiling, his words curling with the shape of his grin. “Here.” He slid an arm inside his cloak, feeling along the inner lining for a pocket or something similar, and from where the fabric cracked open along his torso Donghyuck could see a flash of pink clothing. Something jingled, and seconds later he brought out a handful of gold coins that shimmered in his palm.

Donghyuck stared at him with his bottom lip between his teeth, holding in a stunned laugh. Maybe some other cashier in some other gas station would’ve reached out to collect them, but Donghyuck didn’t. He wasn’t even trying to be dull, like he did when Jeno made a bad joke—he was shocked, left with no words. 

Donghyuck looked at the three of them uncertainly, the man’s arm still outstretched. “Um, I don’t think—“

“Jaemin, what are you—stupid?” The one with the jacket shouldered past his friends. He looked at Donghyuck kindly, his gaze only lingering on his face for a moment before drifting further up his head. 

As the boy regarded him, he shrunk into himself—growing self-conscious at the fact that he knew he looked like shit. But, no matter how they were dressed, all three of them were good-looking—even the cloaked one, the way he was carrying himself was attractive in itself. 

Now, Donghyuck wasn’t all that unconfident in his looks. Still, he knew for a fact that the gross corkboard-fiberglass dust from the tiles above had made a blanket of yellow flakes across his head and shoulders, and the shirt he was wearing was an old one that fit too tight around his belly, and made him feel fatter than usual. 

“Here.” The boy in front of him dug into his jacket’s pocket, pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill and holding it out to him. Donghyuck muttered a quick ‘thanks’, shaken out of his thoughts. He opened the register, rang them up, handed him the change, then gestured to their things. “You’re all set.” The guy with the golden coins had taken it, and Donghyuck once again knew he was smiling when he told him to keep the change.

They collected their food and herded toward the exit. As they left, the hooded one, Jaemin, if Donghyuck heard correctly, called out a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder. Mark said and did nothing—at least not until Jaemin used his soda to slap the back of his head—then, mid-step through the doorway, he gave a quick thumbs up. The normal looking one left last, and the door almost closed all the way shut behind him before he stuck his head back in, rather quickly, and gave Donghyuck a warm smile.

“Thanks, Donghyuck. See ya.” 

And the last thing Donghyuck did before clocking out early and sprinting home was stare at the coins Jaemin gave back to him—and pocket the golden one that shined at him from underneath the others.

 

Notes:

Here's my twitter! I update it pretty regularly these days so if you want to keep track of things then you can follow if you'd like :)
Bear Writes

Chapter 2: A Single Gold Coin

Notes:

Here it is! Chapter 2 is officially finished and I'm super happy with it, so I hope you are too! Pretty please, let me know how you feel by leaving a comment. They really inspire me and help keep me out of a writing rut. I'm also just curious in general about how you guys feel about the direction the story is taking now compared to last time, and if you enjoy it or not! Let me know, and enjoy!

“So, you’re a cosplayer!” Jeno was happier than Donghyuck had seen him in a while, his feet shifting where he stood in excitement.

Donghyuck swung his head to the side, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Wait, what?! How did you get that from what I told you earlier?”

The employees of “Grab’n’Go Gas” usually had to wear name tags on the left side of their chest—to give the place a ‘friendlier feel’, in Ten’s words. In fact, there was a sign on the inside of the counter that read ‘Name tags mandatory!’, something Donghyuck had to look at four times a week, five hours at a time. The only time he had ever worn it was when Ten clipped it onto his shirt himself.

Yesterday—this morning, rather—was not that day.

“Thanks, Donghyuck, see ya .”

He knew my name. How did he know my name?!

He had wrestled with sleep after his shift and only gave up when he had to pull the covers over his face to protect his eyes from the rising sun. 

The second Donghyuck saw Jeno awake and coherent, he spilled it all—the men, the way they looked, his name in their mouths, what they bought and what they had given him in return. 

A single gold coin. 

“So you’re telling me, Jeno, that you followed your orange gremlin friend over there all the way here on your day off to tell me that you think I’m a cosplayer. That’s what I’m getting from this?” Ten was looking at them from on top of the checkout counter; his legs crisscrossed, his face skeptical. 

Jeno ignored him and the long sigh that followed, instead speaking to Donghyuck. “Well, they were playing dress up, they knew Ten, and if you're assuming that our boss doesn’t complain about us in his free time, you're more delusional than I thought.” Jeno chuckled a little, twisting a strand of platinum hair between two fingers. “So, if Ten is friends with these people, then he is, by association, a cosplayer.”

“I’m literally right here. Right here.”

Donghyuck squinted at him, tucking away that comment on him being delusional for later. He couldn't believe it. At the apartment, Jeno had looked puzzled—not the reaction Donghyuck was expecting, sure, but he had thought that Jeno, in his own way, was at least on the same page.

He realized now that he was an idiot for thinking that Jeno didn’t see this as an opportunity to make a joke—he told Jeno that he wasn’t funny all the time, something they both laughed about. Apparently, though, if you give unfunny people an inch, they take an unbelievable mile. In all fairness, Donghyuck had a terrible habit of not taking things seriously, including this whole mess.

Still, Jeno was supposed to be the serious one.

“Dude, no, I’m saying that three complete strangers knew who I was, and that’s fucking creepy. They could’ve at least talked to me on campus or something...but I don’t think I had any classes with them. I would’ve been friends with them even if they liked to dress up,” He turned to Ten, grinning, “There’s nothing wrong with playing pretend, Ten.” Despite his words, the pit they had twisted into Donghyuck’s chest was still lingering, curling tighter the more he ran through the events in his mind.

“Maybe the one with the hood? I bet ten bucks that he’s a drama major; maybe he was in one of your electives?” Jeno paused, tapping his chin. “They all sound like Drama majors.”

“Nuh-uh, not Mark; he’s got the biology vibe. The intro class is huge; maybe he sits somewhere behind me in lecture and couldn't resist. Told his friends and everything." Donghyuck spread his smile wide, and the further his lips parted, the tighter his chest felt.

"Oh, sure, that's it."

"It's happened before! Sure, they weren't stalkers, but I have an aura that brings most men to their—"

"That's enough." Ten was standing now, directly in front of them, his arms crossed and his eyes hard. "No more jokes; focus. Tell me about the coins—what did they look like, did they have any weird mannerisms, did they smell, everything. Tell me everything."

Now that Donghyuck was forced to hold eye contact with Ten, he could see where Jeno was coming from. Ten was in his early thirties, hair dyed gray with neon pink highlights and nails painted black at all times. He even wore colored contacts—light pink—that Donghyuck couldn’t remember ever not seeing. Regardless, even if he quipped about those guys pretending that they were from the industrial era or that he charmed them with his 'aura', the face Ten was making made Donghyuck more certain by the second that there was something more going on.

The second they had mentioned the men in the first place, their usually playful boss had gone still, the fond, teasing smile on his face falling to the ground and turning to dust at his feet. He had ushered them inside after that; his words hushed into whispers until the door had closed behind him—which is precisely why Donghyuck had tucked the coin away again, at the risk of staining his shorts with a crust-lined spot. Something about it made him think that if Ten knew he had it, he would take it. 

And for some reason, Donghyuck didn't want that.

“Abnormal,” he said lamely, and Ten brought both hands to his face and dragged them downwards. 

“E-la-bor-ate, please.” Ten was obviously trying to be patient, maybe sensing Donghyuck’s hesitation, but was also obviously failing. “I know you know what I'm talking about.”

In the short time Donghyuck has had the coin in his hands, he’s had the opportunity to discover certain odd features it possessed. The first was that the coin wasn’t just glossy, not in that smooth-plastic sort of way that fake coins are; it was wet—as in, it was producing an actual liquid. The second was that whatever it was secreting carried a faint but god-awful smell that Donghyuck could only compare to a poorly maintained fish tank.

In the dim light of the moon, he hadn’t been able to figure out where the substance came from, but when he pulled it out of his pocket (it left behind a large wet spot that was half-liquid and half-crust) on his and Jeno’s way back to their gas station he was able to see the coin’s details fully. 

It wasn’t a real currency; he knew that for sure. Too new-looking to be ancient, and too obscure—too smelly—to be considered an object of value, even if it was gold. 

What Donghyuck would’ve called ‘heads’ was an intricate etching of a squid. Its tentacles created a ring that lined the edges of the coin’s face, and as he moved it around, the eyes of the beast seemed to follow him. Obviously, that wasn’t the case—it was just some coin—but Donghyuck kept that side facing down from then on.

‘Tails’ was a carving of a ship careening over the crest of a giant wave. On the bottom of the image was a name, notched into the surface in curved letters.

Edric ‘The Kraken’ Rackham

Donghyuck had squinted at it, angling it so that the coin perfectly met the sunlight filtering through the thick summer storm clouds above them, and had spotted two more words written on the side of the ship’s hull in such a tiny font that he could barely make it out. 

The Oracle

The waves on the coin were where the wetness seemed to be coming from, and no matter how much Donghyuck wiped, and wiped, and wiped at it, his fingers never came up dry.

“They were wet. Gold.” Donghyuck crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact with the man before him. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

They were scientifically impossible. My chem and bio professors would laugh in my face if I told them.

Ten fell silent for several moments, and when Donghyuck finally found it in himself to look back up, he met the eyes of a disturbed man, almost hysterical—nothing like the Ten he knew. “And you said they knew your name. They said your name—are you one hundred percent sure that they said your name?” 

Donghyuck pulled his lips into a tight line. “I know my name when I hear it, Ten.”

“Okay…” Ten slumped over, his eyes fluttering shut and his head falling into his palms, “I need the two of you to listen to me very—“ he looked at his employees through his fingers one at a time, “—carefully.”

There was a sudden pulse of pressure that shot through Donghyuck’s chest—Jeno seemed to feel it too, a hand raising to press at the skin over his diaphragm—and left his ears ringing, muffling Ten’s words enough to where he had to repeat himself. When he did, it was as if he had been burdened with the weight of a thousand moons. 

“These…men. They’re very dangerous.” His voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot and his breaths halting puffs of air that wheezed on their way out. When the only response he got was silence and two pairs of wide, skeptical eyes, Ten squeezed his eyes shut. “Very, very dangerous, and–and if you see them again, you need to run. I don’t care what you’re doing; I don’t care where you are when—if it happens. You run. Understand? Get yourselves somewhere safe.”

There was more silence, and finally Jeno snapped into action. “Are you telling me my best friend almost died last night?"

"He could've, yes."

"Oh, cool, so he almost died, and you’re saying it will happen again? You sound fucking crazy!” He looked more irritated than anything else, and an arm had been stretched in Donghyuck’s direction during his response. He took Jeno’s hand. 

Ten shook his head, his shuddering sigh almost lost over Jeno's volume. “I said if—“

“No, you said when! You said ‘when’ and then continued as if you hadn’t. Where are you going?!” Ten had begun to walk towards his office, and the only thing holding Jeno back from stopping him was Donghyuck’s hold on his hand. “You can’t just say shit like that and walk away!”

“Yes, I can. I’m tired, and I’m gonna go sit down.”

“You’re tired? From saying some cryptic nonsense and then refusing to explain?!”

“From dealing with your tantrum.” Jeno huffed at that, incredulous, and looked at Donghyuck for backup.

Donghyuck said nothing.

“Well, what are we supposed to do, then?! Just chill until they come looking for him?! You're not going to help?! Can’t you at least tell us who they are? If they’re so dangerous and you’re so worried—and they seem to know Donghyuck, which is your fault since they know you, then don’t you think we deserve to know who they are!? Don't you think we deserve your help?!”

Ten had stopped in his tracks with his fingers curled around the doorknob of his office. He didn’t look over his shoulder when he spoke, and right after he uttered the last word, he opened the door and stepped out of sight.

“You wanna know who they are? Fine. They’re murderers, Jeno. And they’ll take Donghyuck without a second thought. Satisfied?”

 

---

 

Raven’s was new to the strip of stores and restaurants near their apartment, a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe—squished in the middle of two much larger buildings with the smallest of alleyways between them, only wide enough for two people to walk side by side—that had opened up a month prior. 

Donghyuck had thought it was cute the first time he had gone inside. The cafe's interior was just as snug as the outside, almost too cramped. There were large couches and armchairs around the small room, acting as dining chairs and crowding around small coffee tables. Two large tapestries were displayed proudly on the walls, one depicting a colorful image of some war and the other showing a rather large paragraph of silver words—something Donghyuck had never really paid attention to. It had been bustling with business, then. Now, there was barely anyone there, a couple sitting across from each other at the back of the room and three stragglers spread out here and there. 

Donghyuck and Jeno sat flush together, squished side-by-side in a small armchair, untouched baked goods going cold on the table before them. A thick, heavy silence had settled around the two after they had left the station, Ten’s last words and Jeno’s heated shouts after him lingering in both of their minds. Donghyuck cracked first.

“Shouldn’t we, like—I don’t know, go to the police or something?”

Jeno scoffed. “He’s fucking with us.”

Donghyuck didn’t react, not until Jeno said it twice.

“He’s fucking with us, or something. You told me they were nice.”

“Yeah…I mean, nice is a little—they didn't really seem like they wanted to do anything, so using nice is kinda—yeah, I guess...” Donghyuck muttered, his eyes watching the steam above his croissant slowly cease its dance to the ceiling. “I feel like we should go to the police, though. In case he’s not joking? I don’t super like the idea of being kidnapped.”

“That’s the thing, though. Kidnap? You? It’s just too specific. What would they want with you? No offense, Hyuck, but you and I aren’t exactly anything special. So what would they want from you over any other guy?”

At that, Donghyuck snorted. “Thanks, man.”

“Seriously, what would they want—”

“Jeno, I get it; I’m a nobody.”

Jeno shifted where he sat, using whatever room he could to turn and face his friend. “No, that’s not what I mean. What do they want that’s so dangerous? To kill you?” His eyes moved back and forth between Donghyuck’s, more severe than Donghyuck had ever seen him.

“That is what murderers typically do. Kill people.” Donghyuck tried to joke, but Jeno didn’t even blink. It was getting harder for Donghyuck to keep this whole thing light now that he knew he was, maybe, almost murdered half a day ago.

“Ten said they would 'take’ you, not ‘kill’ you. So the question isn’t just what; it’s why. Why would they take you instead of killing you on the spot?”

“That’s also something murderers tend to do, Jeno.” Donghyuck huffed out an uneasy laugh. “You sound like an idiot. We watch crime shows all the time, man.”

“But they could’ve taken you during your shift…? You see what I mean? If they didn’t take you then, why come back for you when they could go for literally anyone else on this side of town—or anywhere else? Which brings us back to the question, 'Why you?'”

Donghyuck paused with an open mouth, ready with another unserious response, but closed it. He's actually got a point. 

“You’re right. He’s just fucking around. I guess he was trying to tell us they were dangerous. That if we see them, we leave. Not that they’ll actively look for me. Maybe he doesn’t like them—like, has something against them or something.” Donghyuck nodded once, through a fake, weak laugh, but he felt deep in his gut that he was trying to convince himself that this was just some scare tactic. There’s an unexplainable coin ruining my favorite pair of shorts, and Ten said three guys dressed up like they're on their way to Nero want to take me. Why not Jeno? Jeno nodded back, but Donghyuck saw a stutter in it, a moment of hesitation, and he had an inkling that Jeno didn’t believe it either. 

The owner of the store—a short, stout man with a thick mop of fluffy black hair, a pair of blue, beady eyes, and a shiny golden name tag that read ‘Raven’—exclaimed something in a foreign tongue, making the two boys jump where they sat and snap their heads in his direction, tearing them out of their thoughts. He was gesturing wildly to a stack of papers in his large hand, the throaty tone of his words directed at what must have been an employee—a tall, lengthy girl with dark skin that matched his, and rich, blue hair cropped just below her jaw. Donghyuck craned his neck to the side, hoping to get a better look at what was on the front of the papers, and when he did, he could’ve sworn that the girl’s hair shifted in almost an iridescent fashion.

The girl next to Raven took a step forward, hovering next to him to also study the pages in his hand, and Donghyuck could only just make out that the matching name tag on her shirt read ‘Grackle’. In that same, unidentifiable language, the girl squawked out a couple of words, curses judging by the look that shadowed Raven’s face, and snatched the papers out of his hands. For a moment, the two workers looked at each other with stony expressions, then, all of a sudden, their eyes turned to look directly at Donghyuck. Raven hissed something under his breath, and the girl stalked around the counter and straight through the black front doors.

Donghyuck followed her with his eyes, watching as she reappeared in front of the windows spaced unevenly across the shop's front wall. “That was…weird. What do you think they were talking about?” Jeno asked, and a sinking feeling in Donghyuck’s chest made him think he already knew the answer. “Whatever’s on those papers, I’m sure. Must be serious.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Jeno said, and before he was done Donghyuck was already up, leaving his food where it had been forgotten long ago on the coffee table and taking long, sure strides towards the front doors. Jeno was hot on his tail, their chair scraping against the hardwood floors a little too loud and drawing the attention of the remaining customers, as well as Raven, who began to stutter out ‘wait’s and ‘sir, just one moment’s. Donghyuck ignored him, only sparing him a glance long enough to see that he was waddling towards him, and his eyes were desperate. He had always liked their accent. The way they rolled their ‘R’s reminded him a little bit of a bird’s call, their tongues staying to the roof of their mouth a little longer than they needed to and sudden jumps in their words as if they were surprised, slipped in the middle of casual conversation—all of which he found funny, since every employee seemed to be named after some bird or another. However, he didn’t like it so much now, not when it was trying to keep him inside. 

For all Raven knew, Donghyuck was going home. Why stop him?

The summer sun blinded him when he first emerged from the building, but after a few seconds he was able to blink Grackle into sight. She was mid-action, her arms raised to tape one of the pages to the window—right next to two others—and when she heard the front doors click shut her head swiveled towards him. She froze, her eyes blown wide, and, like Raven, she moved towards him, her arms outstretched and eyes locked onto the top of his head. Jeno stepped out behind him, distracting the girl and giving Donghyuck just enough time to side-step out of her way and right in front of the three pieces of paper. Though, within a second of inspection, he noted that they weren’t pieces of paper, they were posters, and there was a different portrait of one of three men on each one. 

“Fuck.”

Grackle had stumbled when Donghyuck had avoided her, and Jeno was helping her up, only walking over when she was safely on her feet and trailing behind him. When he stopped next to Donghyuck, he seemed to feel the same.

“Oh, shit.”

Donghyuck drew his hand up, pressing the tips of his fingers over the bold ‘WANTED' at the bottom of Mark’s flier in red letters. Donghyuck turned to his friend stiffly. “The men I saw have an arrest warrant. We have to go to the police.”

Grackle had backed into the front doors of Raven’s before Donghyuck had time to notice, and, following a series of loud shouts from inside, the small number of customers that had been left were ushered out of the door. Raven and Grackle both peered around the corner, their eyes on Donghyuck, and only when he sent a shocked look in their direction did they retreat back inside, the door snapping at him with the sound of the lock sliding into place.

Notes:

Here's my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes

Chapter 3: An Open Door

Notes:

Not only is this chapter ready, but I have the next chapter ready and fully written. Lucky you--you're getting a double update! Enjoy!

They did not go to the police. 

Instead, Jeno and Donghyuck both decided to just lock themselves into their apartment for as long as they could take it. It turns out, Donghyuck’s limit was three days.

It’s been a week.

Donghyuck groaned, propped against the headboard of his bed with his head in his hands.

The posters had an iron grip on Donghyuck’s mind. 

It was all he could think about. Even if he wanted to forget about them, if only for a little while, he couldn't—three sets of eyes boring into the side of his head from where they were plastered against the window of the gas station, right next to the door.

And there was another thing.

He’s had a lot of time to mull over this whole murderer thing over the past week. He had a lot of issues with it—he was scared, or at least he was at first; he was irritated by Ten leaving them hanging with only some vague facts, and he hated the idea that by just stepping out of his door he could get taken. There was more to it, which is a thought that had crept its way to the front of his brain by the second day of his voluntary lockdown, and once he had told Jeno, he couldn’t stop it from growing larger.

Ten had known who the murderers were, literally, before the rest of the town—unless they had broadcasted it on the news during their little altercation. Only after they spoke to him did the fliers go up, and only then did everyone start whispering about three killers instead of one. It was improbable, the idea that Ten had anything to do with the sudden attention, and Donghyuck and Jeno usually never watched the news so he was pretty much getting something out of nothing, but he had heard snippets of conversation from some of their customers before the three men were even an idea to him. Even if he didn't care about the town's comings and goings, his boring job had made him quite the gossip.

‘Some guy went missing’, ‘They found a dead body’, ‘The guy who did it could be anyone’. He and Jeno had known there were things disturbing the peace long before their semester started, but the hubbub grew ten-fold after they spoke to their boss.

After that less-than-thirty-minute interaction with Ten, everything was ‘three culprits’ this, and ‘the previously mysterious disappearances from a month ago are believed to be their work’ that.

Jeno had started picking up shifts while Donghyuck was scheduled, and Ten was nowhere to be seen, unable to stop him. Raven’s was closed until further notice. As far as he could tell, at least for now, he and Jeno were in this alone—apart from the constant drone of the local news channel that seemed to reach every corner of their apartment.

In other news, Donghyuck definitely failed that math test. Just one more irritating event falling into his growing collection.

“Another body was found earlier today, which was once again on the north side of the city— “

“Hyuckie, get in here! They found another one!”

He padded out into the hallway that led to their living room—though calling it a hallway wasn't entirely accurate. It was more like a small alcove with a door on either side of the dip. The news anchor’s voice, his name was Joel—seeing him for a week straight was starting to get old—snapped into full focus when the not-so-springy springs of their couch stabbed into his rear (a used piece of furniture they found on the side of the road shortly after they had moved in, no cushions to be found, and no money to buy any).

“Coroner’s reports state that all six victims were killed several days before being found by civilians all over town, and new sources say that each of them had identical gashes—“ 

“They said earlier that three more dudes are missing this week as of today, and one of them was reported yesterday, but they won’t say who yet. Not a single one.” Jeno cut in, nudging Donghyuck’s leg with his foot from where he was perched on the arm of the couch.

“Good lord, those guys’re fast. Why the hell aren't they giving us more info on the missing ones? I feel like they would want people to have their info in case they saw something.” 

“I think they’re fumbling. There haven’t been this many disappearances since, like, forever. That's what Joel said, anyway. Six bodies and eleven missing? Unheard of.” Donghyuck shook his head, turning his attention back to their TV. There were two men on the screen now—a video call—and the one not in the broadcast room was wearing a lab coat.

  “—remains were found a day after the last. That’s not only three more missing, but two new bodies a day apart. ” Joel said, and the man in the lab coat nodded solemnly. “How I see it, Joel, the miscreants are either picking up the pace, or they’ve been harboring more captives than we originally thought. ”

“I’ll have to agree with you on that, Dr. Curry, ” Joel shuffled some of the papers on his desk around, “Thank you for your time. We are now going to check in with Mary Gifts at the crime scene.” A woman appeared, surrounded by the fuss of several other reporters, along with the small group of policemen that were trying to keep them at a distance. “Mary? ”

“Thank you, Joel. As you can see here guys, I’m at the corner of Walnut and Film where the most recent body was found. It’s a ways away from where I’m standing, but Joel, I don’t think I’ll ever recover. What a tragic sight.”

“Indeed, Mary. Have the police made an official statement yet? ” 

“They have, and I was lucky enough to catch it right as I arrived on the scene.”

An unfamiliar face replaced Mary’s as they began the recording, and when it focused Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “He’s, like, four years old—what’s this kid doing in a uniform?”

“Officer Jung! Officer Jung! What do you have to say about the increase of casualties this past week?”

“Officer! Have you and your partner found any new information on the culprits?”

“Have there been any more disappearances?”

"Has being a rookie disrupted your ability to solve the case?"

Officer Jung held up a hand. “We’ve still not identified their names, but the posters we’ve sent out have made them easy to spot. If you are to see them, come straight to us. As far as the disappearances go, not only are we working day and night to find the recent missing persons, but I assure you that we are doing everything we can to find the ones in the past. We will do everything we can to find Zhong Chenle—”

Another hand appeared, clapping onto the officer’s bicep, followed by an equally young face as another officer stepped out from behind him. “What we mean to say is that we are doing everything in our power to find every missing person, as well as the culprits behind both them and the murders. ” The crowd had been silenced, eating up every word, and his gaze panned slowly over them. 

“As you may have noticed, we’ve been sending out hourly patrols around the area. We’ve also worked with the mayor to set a city-wide curfew—all citizens must be inside by 8 PM, the only exceptions being medical emergencies—until the case has been solved. During the day, it is highly suggested that you stay in busy areas, and travel in groups. Like I said, we are doing everything in our power to put an end to this and to keep you safe. ” He then stepped out of frame, dragging Officer Jung with him.

The video was shut off abruptly, cutting off the beginnings of the next tsunami of questions.

Joel was back, as well as Mary, and they both had that obnoxious pseudo-amusement look that all news reporters had when they were about to close a segment with a poorly scripted, off-hand comment. “Well Joel, just like the two young officers said, they sure are doing everything they can. ”

Joel chuckled, mocking. “ Oh, of course. What I want to know, Mary, is what they’re going to do about the other three-fourths of the town. They’re clearly out of their depth, and— “

 Jeno pressed the power button on the remote with a sigh. “Assholes.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Jeno echoed, and, shortly after, heaved himself upwards and disappeared into his room.

---

 

Three excruciating weeks passed, and Donghyuck actually thought he was going insane. 

Staying inside was making him irritable, but he could move past it if he wanted to. He was losing touch with reality, his mind slipping into his daydreams every moment it could. The bigger issue at hand was the coin—aside from the severe increase of people going missing and the growing number of casualties.

He carried the coin everywhere he went, limited to work and—well, just work—in a small leather bag he got when he bought DnD dice for a club on campus. He figured, since he hasn’t touched it since the beginning of the semester, that he might as well dump the dice and put the bag to better use. It was starting to truly smell—no matter how many showers he took, the scent of, what he imagined, low-tide clung to him like a bad cologne, a stark difference to the barely present smell it had carried when he first acquired it. 

His room was especially bad, and he couldn’t spend more than thirty minutes in there without literally gagging. Most nights he found himself stuffed between Jeno and the wall of his bedroom. The ridiculous heat outside wasn’t helping, curdling the thick smell into the unmistakable hot scent of a summer on the coast, even though he’d never seen it. There was only one thing that could let in this much hot air—the front door was open.

It wasn’t so far-fetched—for the past month, Jeno had, at the very least, kept the windows open as often as possible, complaining about the stench and swinging his bedroom door back and forth until the hinges started to creak in an attempt to get some circulation going. This wasn’t just an occasional thing. This was every day he wasn’t at work—which he was only allowed to do because they needed to pay rent. Other than that, since their semester ended the day after he saw the men for the first time, Jeno made sure to keep him at the apartment, every new disappearance making him hover over Donghyuck more and more each day. 

They stuck to ordering take-out to avoid leaving, and only going to the store if they absolutely needed to—though they’d lived in relative college student poverty long enough to know how to improvise. Regardless, Donghyuck couldn’t take much more of this ‘stay inside’ business—if it meant he could feel the sun on his skin, he’d, at this point, love to take the risk.

He dragged his feet as he left his room, feeling sticky, and from there he had a clear view of their front door, which was, indeed, open. What struck him as odd, though, wasn’t that it was open, but there were soft snores coming from the room next to him. He stepped forward, peering into Jeno’s room. His roommate was fast asleep, mouth open and arms and legs sprawled across his comforter. A creak sounded from the living room.

Someone was in his fucking apartment.

Donghyuck was frozen, no access to any weapon and literally didn’t have any pants on. He was bare, and completely vulnerable to whoever was waiting for him three feet away, just behind the wall. 

It could be paranoia, I could be overthinking this. Jeno opened the door and fell asleep. He opened the door and accidentally fell asleep. No one’s here. It’s just me and Jeno. It was some wind, pushing the door a little. Yeah, I’m just nervous. These are wild times.

But that’s exactly what was getting him. These were wild times. There were people, according to Ten, and now Jeno, and definitely Donghyuck, after him. No, not people—murderers. His t-shirt clung to his back, the sweat that covered his body soaking through his boxers and making them stick to the inside of his thighs uncomfortably. In hindsight, he should’ve woken up Jeno. He didn’t, though, his curiosity too strong, and his survival instincts embarrassingly weak. He took small steps forward, edging his way close enough to where he could press himself against the thin plaster of the alcove and peek around the corner.

A new wave of sweat settled over his skin, this time cold, and he felt his heart clench with the tell-tale sign of a panic attack. He was wrong—or right, he guessed. There were people in his apartment, three of them, sitting quietly on his couch with funny clothing and postures that implied they were way more comfortable than Donghyuck thought they should be. He let out a shaky breath, a little too loud, and he pressed a hand over his quivering lips. One of them cocked their heads to the side, and muttered a single word, and before they had a chance to see him he ducked back behind the corner and moved to turn around. He heard the soft thump of footsteps on carpet.

Donghyuck took it back. He’d rather never see a tree again if it meant this wouldn’t happen.

I can make it before they can get me. It’s only a couple feet. I can get there and close the door, and Jeno can call the police. I can get—

Before he could even think about stepping forward an unfamiliar hand clapped over his mouth, the taste of earth and the slick of sweat pasting itself onto Donghyuck’s lips. He felt the warmth of a body pressing into him from behind, and a damp breath fan across the side of his neck. “Walk backwards—to the living room.” Two fingers dragged upwards to pinch his nose, cutting off any chance Donghyuck had to make noise. The only thing he could think to do was struggle, flailing his arms and stamping his feet on the carpet in hopes that the noise would wake Jeno, but the man behind him was ready. He wrapped his free arm around Donghyuck’s torso, locking his elbows against his sides and heaving backwards—dragging Donghyuck with him with enough force to lift his feet off of the ground.

“Mark.” The normal one from before, the one that knew Donghyuck’s name, spoke up, his head resting on the palm of his hand where it was propped on his knee—the one that heard him from around the corner. “You can let go.” He had such a kind smile, too warm for the loaded heat around them.

Donghyuck felt a steady exhale, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “You scream, you lose your voice.” His tone told Donghyuck two things—one, it wasn’t an empty threat. The sentence was said in such a neutral way it was borderline psychopathic, considering what he actually said. Two, Mark didn’t care either way. Donghyuck had no doubt that he would do it, faster than Donghyuck could stop it, and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

He couldn’t breathe, the fingers blocking his nose lingering a little too long, and when the hand dropped from his face Donghyuck made himself cough with how harshly he sucked in a breath. The heat radiating off of Mark’s body had been so concentrated that when he retreated to the other side of the room chills crawled up Donghyuck’s spine.

At first, Donghyuck almost screamed. He thought of Jeno, how he would probably start fist fighting. Something told him, as capable and strong as Jeno was, he wouldn’t win three-to-one. The three were all skinny, sure, but there was something about the vibe they gave off that hinted at something stronger. That very feeling is the exact reason why Donghyuck didn’t just make a run for it.

He licked his lips, cringing at the specks of dirt, and settled on saying, “What the hell do you want from me,” because once again they were just speaking to him instead of dragging him out the front door.

The three of them were almost the exact same as they had been when Donghyuck first saw them, the biggest difference being that Jaemin had his hood off this time, and every suspicion he had about him at the gas station was more or less correct. 

He had pastel pink hair, just as Donghyuck thought, and it was slightly curled at the ends, lifting upwards in different directions. A month ago, Donghyuck would’ve found it charming—attractive, maybe. He was grinning, and for a moment Donghyuck actually was struck by how stunning it was, but fear curled around his heart when he saw Jaemin’s eyes, shattering his delusion. They were vibrant orange, and the irises weren't shaped like anyone else’s in the room, they were slits, like cat eyes, and just like a cat's, there was hardly any space for the whites of them. The last thing to hit him was the realization that he had been hiding something. Even though Jaemin was wearing the same cloak as he was before, covering his arms and the rest of his body, Donghyuck could only just spot a curious pattern of thick, raised scars that framed his face. There was another set of them on his neck, like a tiger, and Donghyuck could guess that there were more that went down his back.

Mark’s appearance hadn’t changed much, the same thoughtful frown—perhaps a tad more down-to-business—and the sunlight spilling in through the open door reflected that his cheeks weren’t as hollow, and he wasn’t as pale, as Donghyuck previously thought. His hair was still a mess, pushed away from his forehead and decorated with flowers. He was once again in formal wear, this time in lilac and white.

The third was in the same zip-up with different plaid pajama pants. His hair was just as fluffy, and just as brown—his eyes just as sly.

“My name’s Renjun—I realize we never formally introduced ourselves. That’s Mark,” He nodded in Mark’s direction, and from the looks of it, he was leaning against the wall half-asleep, “and that’s Jaemin.” Jaemin raised a hand and grinned, his lips curling like a feline’s.

“Pleasure.” Donghyuck scowled, trying his best to hide how, if this went on for much longer, he might actually cry. From the knowing, almost pitying look in Renjun’s eyes, he already knew. “Apparently you already knew who I was. How.” It was a question, sure, but the dread constricting Donghyuck’s throat was starting to trickle drops of repulse down his esophagus, no matter how hard his hands were starting to shake. Just do something already! I can’t stand here and pretend to not want to run, I can’t do this, please, just do something! Take me! Kill me! Get it over with!

Jaemin and Renjun shared a suspicious look, and when they both turned back to look at him they were visibly uncomfortable. Mark scoffed where he stood. Renjun spoke up once more. “I know it’s not fair, but we can’t really tell you.”

“…what?” 

“We can’t tell you. Not until we’re sure…” Donghyuck found himself scoffing as well, the sound almost getting caught in his throat.

“You broke into my apartment. There are wanted posters all over town with your guys’ faces on them—allegations of murder, kidnapping, and god knows what else all over the news. We’ve been so scared that I haven’t left my own home.” He was trying harder and harder to sound angry, to sound brave, counting the reasons on his fingers, but the wavering of his words betrayed him. But, fine. If they wanted to talk, he’d talk. “I have a right to know exactly why I'm involved. You guys could’ve gone for anyone else since the last time you saw me. I know it’s not the biggest city in the world, but I just don’t understand why I —“

Then, it was Jaemin that spoke up, his deep voice rumbling through a chuckle. “Well, I mean, that logic is flawed. Like, if we were actually here to hurt you—like—when serial killers get their grubby little hands on someone—” He held his hands up in surrender, “not saying we’re serial killers, but, like—they usually don’t make it a logical decision. Like, when someone that messed up in the head picks a victim, it's usually just some guy who fits their type, not really a personal affair—especially the hedonistic ones, they’re really fucked up. Unless it's a passion crime, of course. Fun fact, when–”

“‘Like–like–like’, Jaemin, shut the fuck up.” Mark called out from across the room, mocking and mean. “Jesus Christ.”

Renjun sighed. “All I can tell you right now is that you’re in danger if you don’t come with us.”

“Come with you?! ” Donghyuck couldn’t help the incredulity in his voice. “There’s no way you were able to get to all of the people reported missing by telling them to come with you! Do I look like an idiot or something?!” His voice had started to raise, by accident, and Mark kicked a leg out, using the momentum to tilt himself away from the wall. He took a step forward. Renjun barked out a sharp ‘stop’, and thankfully, Mark froze. It irritated him, expectedly, but he stopped. 

Renjun opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, just before he turned his head sharply to the right, eyes flitting to the alcove. “He’s awake.”

“You must’ve missed it over Jaemin’s pointless —”

“Mark, this is not the time to be—”

“What the hell do you mean ‘pointless’? I was right, was I not? And now if anyone ever kidnaps him, he’ll know there’s no use in trying to reason with them.”

Donghyuck was standing close enough to the alcove to hear the muffled noise of a conversation—a phone call. He’s calling the police!

The police station was right down the street—that being the reason they decided to live in this dump, aside from the affordability—and they have been sending patrols. Ten minutes, tops. All I have to do is stall. Survive.

“I’ll ask again, what exactly is it that you want from me.”

“I’m offering a proposal. You come with us now, or you don’t. We won’t visit you ever again. However,” Renjun was starting to look distraught. Donghyuck could tell, he knew what Jeno was doing—that whatever time frame they expected had been cut drastically short. A desperate murderer was an extra dangerous one.

Donghyuck had been starting to panic before, but now it was fully blossoming in his chest, spreading to his brain and just about everywhere else it could reach.

“If you don’t come with us today—I think you can gather on your own that someone else will come to get you…and I can assure you they won’t give you a choice, or be as kind. Those bodies, the disappearances—that wasn’t us, but whoever it was is going to get you, whatever the cost.” 

“And I think the three of you can gather on your own that there’s nothing you could possibly do to get me to go with you.” Donghyuck replied, and that was probably the last steady thing he would be able to say for the next year or so.

There was another look shared between them, an especially meaningful one when directed at Mark. Something in the way Mark’s feet were turned, as if he was ready and waiting for an order told him that Renjun was the only one here that was presenting any sort of option, no matter how dismal it was.

Renjun nodded at him, and Mark began to walk towards him once more. “Jaemin, get started.”

“Gotcha.” 

I’m so fucked. Any morsel of general dislike he felt for these men melted away, physically shrinking into himself at the sight of a boy with flowers taking purposeful steps straight at him. “W-wait! You just said—you just said that I had a choice!”

Renjun said nothing—didn't even look at him.

Mark was really moving now, taking large strides towards him, and at the last minute Donghyuck ducked beneath his outstretched arms. He made a dash towards his room, but Jaemin was faster, sticking his leg out to the side as he stood up and effectively tripping him. Donghyuck landed on the scratchy carpet with a huff.

“JENO, HELP!” Mark was grabbing at him, lifting him from the floor and hoisting him over his shoulder with a labored grunt. “Okay, fun’s over. Jaemin, hurry up.”

“I’m working on it, I literally just started, gods a- fucking -bove.” He huffed back, and Donghyuck craned his neck to see that the boy was now holding his hands out in front of him, right in the center of the room.

They’ll be here soon, just a couple more min—

His thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the heavy footsteps of Jeno charging straight at him. He shouted, a sort of battle cry, and all of the sudden Donghyuck was back on the ground, laid on his back. Jeno was straddling Mark, pinning his arms on either side of his head, and it wasn’t looking very good for either party. Mark was sucking in breaths, his chest heaving from anger more than an urgency to breathe, and Donghyuck saw that his eyes started to ignite. They weren't setting on fire, they were sparking, flashing golden bursts like a flint and steel. Whatever it was, it finished, and a deep, green shine began to radiate from his irises—reflecting onto Jeno’s lips and cheeks and making him look sickly. 

Donghyuck scrambled to his feet, gasping for air that didn’t seem to reach his lungs, and Renjun was already there, grabbing his arm and pushing him towards the center of the room, and then lunging towards Jeno to shove him away. “Mark, calm down, think about what you’re doing!”

“Oh, I’m thinking just fine!” He yelled back, and there was something about his voice—his, overlaid with someone else's—that was so scary Donghyuck felt his stomach contract, and his mouth water.

I’m in the middle of fighting for my life and I’m about to fucking throw up!

He spun, now facing Jaemin, and he was met with a pinprick of pale blue light hovering about chest height right between Jaemin’s hands, with an even smaller golden speck in the very middle. It was bright, blindingly so. The light grew, a swirl of water exploding outwards and whirl-pooling around it. It was as if the origin of the swirl was a golden light, and the blue water, dark like the sea, was just dancing in front of it, warping it and churning it until it created a spiral of sorts. It continued to grow until it was big enough for someone to walk right into it. It also stretched forward, like a tunnel, and all the way at the end of it, Donghyuck caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone was waiting for them on the other side, and whoever it was, they were also, no doubt, waiting for Donghyuck. 

The sounds of sirens floated through the air, only just reaching Donghyuck’s ears over the deafening sound of rushing water and the unsteady pulse of his heart. This was it. They were out of time, and all Donghyuck had to do now was avoid being grabbed until the cops climbed up to their apartment. 

He reeled back, landing on the cushionless couch they had. He bounced a couple of times, the springs digging into his skin, and he pushed his heels into the carpet. Jaemin sent a frenzied look around, to the pile of writhing bodies, then to Donghyuck. “GUYS, WE GOTTA GO!”

Renjun’s head snapped to the side, his face contorted in a panic so strong it was as if the composed boy Donghyuck had been speaking to before had never been there in the first place. Mark was furious, and with a single blink, in time with the stomp stomp stomp of the cop’s feet pounding up the metal staircase just outside, a pulse of force, just like the one he had felt when Ten and the two had their little talk, a pure wave of energy, sent Jeno sprawling through the air and slamming directly into the arm of the couch. Then, almost inhumanly fast, the two were up. 

Mark stormed into the vortex, and instead of following him, Renjun loomed over Donghyuck like a shadow, the golden-blue light hiding his more delicate features and only leaving his shape behind. He made a noise, deep and violent like a cornered dog, and bent over to grab Donghyuck by the ankle with an impossible strength. 

Two tugs were enough to have Donghyuck’s leg halfway into the opening, loose drops of water hitting his calf in waves that, miraculously, left no moisture behind. He felt Jeno grab him from behind, manhandling him until he had a solid grasp under his arms. Donghyuck, for a moment, felt like he was being torn in half—and realized with a borderline paralyzing fear that Renjun was winning, now having pulled Donghyuck in up to the middle of his thigh. 

If he didn’t act, he would be taken. He kicked wildly, thrashing around so fervently that Jeno lost his grip. Two more tugs. There was cold water lapping at his waist. He was screaming with the strain of his movement, and finally, finally, he felt the ball of his foot connect with Renjun’s torso, right over his diaphragm. It was enough. He doubled over, and the second he felt the hand on his leg loosen Donghyuck scrambled backwards, crying out when his bottom slammed against the floor. He couldn’t hear the door crack, the sound of the handle splitting through the thin plaster wall to its left.

Donghyuck curled into himself, drawing his legs to his chest, and when he looked up to watch the men run, the last thing Donghyuck saw before the tunnel disappeared was Mark and his green eyes peering at him from over Renjun’s back.

He turned, sight blurred from the weight of his panic, ears ringing and seeking comfort. Jeno had a rare look on his face, something that shook Donghyuck to his core and only made his heart drop further. If Donghyuck’s roommate was anything, he was brave. Always there to wrap strong, safe arms around Donghyuck at any sign of danger. Now, in their dim apartment, the rising sun casting rays of pink and orange across the room and the fading blue and gold light of the portal bouncing off the walls, Jeno wasn’t brave. He was afraid.

Notes:

Feel free to comment! It motivates me to stay on track and lets me know how you guys are feeling about the story so far!

You can also follow my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes

Chapter 4: Five-O

Notes:

Here's a long chapter for you guys! Always keep in mind that I will continue to update this story, even if it's been a couple of months. I'll never leave this one in the dust. Make sure to leave a comment! It keeps me motivated! I hope you enjoy, especially those who read the version before this one because this is completely new and something that never happened in the first draft.

Just like the gas station, the police station’s lights buzzed loudly above Donghyuck’s head. He rubbed at his eyes, hoping to soothe the relentless throbbing behind them, and sniffed, gagging at the chunk of phlegm that slid down the back of his throat.

Jeno was shaking next to him, hands trembling, clenching and unclenching where they quivered on the tops of his knees. 

The first thing the officers did when they saw the inside of the apartment was conduct a thorough search, effectively wrecking any hope of neatness that was barely there in the first place. A little extensive, but Donghyuck was more preoccupied with heaving up every organ he had right onto his lap, as well as anything within a six-inch radius. Next came the questions.

“Son, are you hurt?”

“Were you attacked?”

“What happened to the lights? Blow a fuse?”

“Which one of you made the call? You said they were here, where are they?”

“We’re gonna take you boys to the station, alright?”

Jeno answered most of them, the shock that was seizing Donghyuck’s body smoothing everything that led up to the police station right over his head. He was also the one to hoist Donghyuck to his feet, and his arms stayed wrapped around his shoulders until the moment they sat down in the precinct’s lobby. 

Donghyuck’s hands fluttered around him, unsure of what he should do with himself—trying to find somewhere to put them that wasn’t covered in chunks and spots of half-dried bile. 

Donghyuck has never just…thrown up. Of course he had, but from sickness. What happened after Renjun, Jaemin, and Mark disappeared was different, as if his panic attack had plagued him. That entire twenty-minute chunk of time was probably the worst thing he’d ever experienced in his entire nineteen years. 

The policemen had offered him time to change, and Donghyuck thought about it, but he figured it would be more uncomfortable to feel the stickiness from under a pair of shorts than it would to just have it on his bare skin, even if it meant being half naked in a public. 

It’s not like I’m trying to impress anybody.

There were a couple of other people in the room, and only now that he’s had a chance to calm down did he start to become self-aware. Imagine what it must look like—obvious vomit covering the legs of a boy in a drenched-with-sweat t-shirt and boxers that were, honestly, a little too small. Tousled orange hair, dark roots already peeking out from underneath, plastered to his forehead, around his ears and neck where it was getting a little too long. A blank stare—only breaking to dart downwards and look at the phantom hand squeezing his ankle—and dirt dried to crust from spit and stomach acid on his cheeks and lips. Then, the boy next to him. Hair, so blond it was almost platinum, bed pressed into nothing less than a disaster, a blossoming bruise on the side of his jaw and over his left eye. Narrowed, avoidant eyes. Restless hands.

The eyes on both of them weren’t quite judging, but they did linger with each look. Jeno jerked his head to the left after what must've been half an hour of charged silence, and Donghyuck closed his eyes. “What.” When Jeno didn’t respond, he sank further down into his seat, exhausted. There’s no way things could get worse. “Jeno, what is it.” He didn’t really care enough to want to know—but he felt obligated to ask.

“Listen—listen. I hear…”

A conversation, an argument, had started to make its way toward the lobby from where it started in the back of the precinct. 

“—And you’re telling me they’re here? So they failed?!” 

“Hey, calm down. I don’t know why you’re so surprised, you’re the one who—”

“Yes, I did, but you know how Doyoung can be, and his little monsters. Clearly, what I’ve done’s only made him work harder, that stubborn basta—” and just as the last, snipped word found Donghyuck, he realized he knew exactly who was speaking. 

It was Ten.

He sped out of the doorway to the right of the front desk—the only way, as far as Donghyuck could tell, to get to the rest of the building. He hesitated when he saw the two, and whatever frustration he had felt from whoever he was arguing with washed away into visible relief. Donghyuck was many things at once—alarmed, angered, alleviated—but most of all, confused. Of all times, of all places and circumstances, after a solid month of avoidance, Ten was at the same police precinct right when Donghyuck was. Why? And what was he talking about? Who?

Regardless, he stood up abruptly, and as Ten began hurrying towards him, he met him halfway, only slowing so that when he hugged him they wouldn’t fall over. 

It didn’t last very long, Ten pushing away and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Ten’s eyes were all over him, his hands tilting his jaw this way and that, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was with his mom again. Donghyuck felt the harsh burn of sadness spread from his eyes, to his nose, to the base of his throat. Then, more than ever, he wanted to call her. What could she do, though? Worry too much, and make me move back in with her.

“They were in our apartment.” Was all Donghyuck could say as he heard Jeno approach from behind. 

“Long time no see. What are you doing here?” It was less than friendly, and Donghyuck just knew that Jeno’s mouth was twisted into a scowl. Ten opened his mouth, then closed it, a flash of surprise coloring his face, and if he actually was going to say anything, he was interrupted before he had the chance.

“So,” A handsome face popped up over Ten’s shoulder, “you’re the boys who met the big three.” He was around their age, maybe a year or so older. It wasn’t a guess, either. His wide eyes made his entire face look as juvenile as he probably was. Donghyuck couldn’t place it, but he’d seen him somewhere.

“I guess you could say that.” Donghyuck said, pulling the collar of his shirt up to scrub at his face, and from behind him, he heard Jeno mutter, “More like we fought them.”

The man grinned. “Perfect.” He waved a hand, a summon, and spun to walk away. Ten was fast on his heels, and after Jeno and Donghyuck shared a suspicious look, they followed.

Once through the doorway, the four of them turned what felt like seventeen corners and went down hallways that couldn’t possibly be any more similar to the one prior, only stopping when they reached a brown door with two silver nameplates that read “Sungchan Jung” and “Shotaro Osaki”.

For hinting that two people used this room as a place of work, the office was much smaller than Donghyuck expected. It only had enough space for a desk and a bookcase, both of which took up their own half of the area. The two armchairs in front of the desk were obvious afterthoughts, pushed all the way up against the wood with a laughable space for anyone’s legs. Three of them took a seat, and the very first thing Donghyuck zeroed in on was a picture of the officer and what looked to be his partner—a much taller man that had a similar charm about him. “I’m Officer Osaki.” 

That’s right—he was on the news a while back. He sat up much straighter after that, interested.

“Donghyuck—and this is Jeno.”

“Pleasure to meet you both. Now,” Officer Osaki thrummed his fingers on a bent manila folder, “tell me, what did they look like?”

Ten sighed from where he was leaning against the bookcase, and Jeno looked so appalled by the question that Donghyuck could tell he didn’t even consider answering it. Instead, he said, “Not to be rude, but aren’t you a little young to be a cop? What are you—like, 20?”

Officer Osaki chuckled. “I’m 21—I graduated early. My record was impressive enough, I guess. Lucky break?” 

Jeno’s eyes narrowed so much that Donghyuck couldn’t actually see them anymore, covered by his eyelashes. “Uh-huh…only two years older than us. So, what, you’d be a senior this upcoming semester? You’re right—how impressive. ” 

“Graduated at the end of my Junior. Like I said, lucky break.” The officer responded, though his eyes had also narrowed. It was only a fraction of a fraction, the slightest of movements, but Donghyuck saw it—a guard being raised.

“And what about police academy?” Donghyuck kicked the side of Jeno’s shin, tightening his lips at the dirty look he got in return. What is he doing? 

“They looked exactly like the men in the posters. I feel like that was expected, given how you were talking to us in the lobby.” Donghyuck couldn’t keep the irritation, and maybe some wariness, out of his voice, starting to feel that something was off. If his reaction to Jeno’s jab was anything to go by, the officer was either lucky, young, and a little too childish for the seat he sits in—or he was hiding something. But that’s crazy, Donghyuck thought, and he felt that wholeheartedly, but he also felt that nothing could be crazier than a portal opening up in his living room.

“Are you sure?” Ten blurted, visibly shrinking back when Officer Osaki held up a hand. 

Donghyuck didn’t grace that with a response, raising his eyebrows. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Jeno was now on his phone, something incredibly dumbfounding since they were in the middle of a police interrogation. Ten kept glancing at the two, more at him than Jeno, eyes poking holes into Donghyuck’s skin. He frowned back.

“I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.” Osaki sent a sharp look in Ten’s direction. “So, what happened?”

Donghyuck was silent for a little too long, trying to choose what to say carefully. “I woke up, the front door was open, they introduced themself and asked me to go with them, and when I said no, they tried to take me by force. Which, obviously, led to a fight.”  Ten was still staring, clearly on the edge of his seat and growing more worked up with each word. By the time he had stopped, the man was wringing his hands. Jeno’s phone slid onto Donghyuck’s tacky thigh, hidden just underneath the lip on the desk. 

“Something’s not right.”

Donghyuck agreed, looking pointedly at Ten with the hopes that Jeno understood what he was trying to say. For someone who’s supposed to be all business, especially in front of two college students who have had a physical encounter with three serial murderers and kidnappers, Osaki sure was letting Ten linger.

Right on cue, Ten spoke up. “How did they get out of the apartment?” 

Jeno’s phone reappeared, this time waving persistently over Donghyuck’s hand. He took it. “Why is Ten even here? What the hell does he know??”

In response to both, Donghyuck shrugged. 

This didn’t go over well. “What do you mean—” Ten mimicked his shrug, incredulous, “How do you not know ?”

“It–well, I just don’t really understand—” Donghyuck stumbled over his words. Jeno’s mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, but the officer’s head turned to the side just enough from where his eyes had strayed—staring daggers into the side of Ten’s face—to where it was clear he somehow knew. 

“Alright, it’s okay. There was a lot going on, and from what I can tell, a lot of adrenaline from the both of you. I don’t expect you to be able to recall everything at once, especially since you haven’t had time to process. You said they introduced themselves? Can you tell me what their names were?” He looked at both of them in turn, his smile uncannily familiar. Warm. 

“Renjun, Mark, Jaemin.”

There was a quick shift in the atmosphere, and it curdled—and all of a sudden, the only person Donghyuck could see was the man sitting across from him. Except, instead of the officer, there was a brown-haired boy in a zip-up jacket and pajama pants sporting a dangerous, kind smile. Every muscle in him tensed. I want to leave. And as much as that was true, miraculously, something deep in him had the stronger urge to know. 

There was a moment of silence, Ten visibly struggling with keeping his mouth shut and Jeno deliberately shifting forward in his chair as if he was going to stand up and physically ask Ten what he thought he was doing here, but then Osaki chuckled. “I think you boys need some rest.” Ten moved to speak, and the officer held a hand up. “You in particular,” he grinned and directed his attention to Donghyuck, sizing him up, “need a good shower and an even better nap.”

Ten spoke anyway. “You can’t expect them to go back to their apartment, can you?”

“From what I’ve heard, from both the officers who continued to search and analyze the crime scene, and from…”

“Donghyuck, sir.” Sir? It felt wrong to say, but the threat of authority was ingrained in him from his father. Jeno sent him a sideways look.

“Right. From what I’ve heard from Donghyuck here, the door was already open—when he woke up, and when my officers arrived. It seemed it was just a mistake, some light negligence,” He looked pointedly at Jeno, who looked astounded, “and it took a turn for the very worst. What I suggest—go home. Get some sleep. Lock your doors, windows, and whatever else that would give someone access to your space—especially when you’re unable to keep watch over it. Maybe spend more time outside—stick to busy places.” He was smiling so nicely, as if it was all just a coincidence and paranoia. As if Donghyuck hadn’t literally been in the hands of three murderers. “Just live your lives as normal with, perhaps, a tad more caution. I’ll take care of everything else, and there’ll be a heavier patrol around the area. You’re safe.”

But everything about everything told Donghyuck that he wasn’t. Once again, Ten and Osaki were sharing a look, one he couldn’t decipher, but every aspect of the interaction screamed deception. Ten’s nails were digging into his forearm from where it rested, and Officer Osaki licked his lips before his gaze returned to the two boys. Donghyuck almost felt left out, more like the feeling a teenager had when watching two classmates talk about him behind his back than a fear of missing out. It was a split-second decision, but he let Jeno's phone slip out of his hand, standing up abruptly and hacking out a fake cough to hide the thump it made when it collided with the stiff carpet. the other three in the room narrowed their eyes, confusion and suspicion, but said nothing.

“Thank you for helping. We’ll be in touch.”

And with those last words from Osaki, the boys left.

 

---

 

On their way out, neither of the two said anything, straining their ears to catch the beginnings of another argument between their boss and an officer of the law. Jeno stopped abruptly when Donghyuck did, watching him weakly pat his pockets—or, better yet, his boxers, which definitely didn’t have pockets—with skeptical eyes. “I forgot your phone. Must’ve slipped.” Donghyuck could be the best liar in the world, and Jeno would still know.

So, Jeno said, “What?”

He pulled Jeno to the side by the shoulder after guiding him further away from the rather intimidating, burly man occupying the front desk. He crowded him, dropping his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “I want to know what Ten is doing here.”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Jeno started, but Donghyuck wasn’t finished. “When you asked him, he literally couldn’t come up with a reason. He hesitated. The man always ready with a comeback literally hesitated. It’s not a coincidence—if it is, then why does it feel like he was the one asking all the questions?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that we’re in a police precinct, and sneaking around doesn’t seem like the best idea. We can do stupid shit in places with fewer eyes—and handcuffs.” 

Jeno took a moment, nodding at his own caution, then sighed, giving in far too quickly for someone wanting to be careful. “I’m with you. I’ll do you one better, though—why was Osaki letting him stay, and why the hell did they keep looking at each other like that?”

“Exactly, it doesn't make sense. Also—how did he know we would be here? After ignoring us, all of a sudden he just happened to be here the same time as us? Unlikely.”

“Agreed.” Jeno let out a short sigh. “Alright, be careful—and quick. I don’t want Gorilla Man over there to start asking questions I don’t have the lies for.”

Donghyuck could hear their voices before he even turned the first corner. 

“I can’t be-lieve you!” Ten’s voice bounced off the walls, followed by a harsh shush from Officer Osaki, and Donghyuck followed it until he was just down the way from the open office door. “Have you reached out to them? Have you told them what his little dick-heads did?!”

“No. I’m sure they already know.” Osaki responded, sounding exhausted. “Actually, I’m fairly certain it was their idea. No shot Jaemin would make a portal in Thnitoi without strict orders.” He stopped for a moment, thinking. “Actually, maybe Taeyong doesn't. He wouldn’t let something like this happen.” 

“The real question is why Mark was there—it’s not like they don’t know what he’s like. That boy is a loose cannon when he's at his best.” Ten was rubbing his face, Donghyuck could tell. “And he thinks this whole thing is bogus. The fact that he’s helping them…”

“I don’t know, man.” Osaki sounded much younger than he had when he was talking to Donghyuck minutes ago, acting his age. “I need a new job.”

“Says every officer ever. Aren’t you supposed to keep the peace, or whatever? Don’t be a baby.”

Osaki laughed at that, no humor to be found. “Keep the peace, that’s something. Those three are the least of my worries. You know, what you did was illegal as well—more illegal than a portal. Influencing a small city? If you want me and Sungchan to keep the peace so bad, we should lock you up. Plus, neither of us signed up for this. Stupid fucking inside order.” 

“I did it for the greater good. I’m not letting them get their nasty hands on that boy. He’s done nothing to deserve this.”

“I hope you know—putting the dead and the missing under their names has created a whole new issue for us here. A good chunk of them wasn’t even done by you-know-who—and whoever the real guy is, they’re not going after anyone in particular, that's for sure. There’s no pattern.”

 Donghyuck had never felt a stronger urge than the one he felt to peek into the room at that moment. They didn’t kill anyone. Those bodies on the news, it wasn’t them. Then who? You-know-who, and a different guy?! 

“Yeah, I know,” A name, please. Say the name! “But there’s nothing we can do about him right now. Just get the fledgling out of the way—find him and put him in rehab. One less issue so we can focus on the others.”

“Stop ordering me around like I don’t know how to handle a Pink-eye.”

“Come on now, watch your mouth.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Don’t act like a racist brat.”

Donghyuck put his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckle. Frustration gnawed at him, the topic of interest slipping into bickering. He stepped to the side. There’s no way they didn’t know he had been listening in. The two of them were shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until he was out of the door, phone in hand, that Ten tried to speak. 

Donghyuck broke into a run.

 

---

 

“Alright, here’s what we know.” Donghyuck has never felt smarter in his entire life. He and Jeno had hit up a craft store after their fun little interaction with Officer Osaki and Ten, buying some string, thumbtacks, and stationary paper. They now had a whole set-up, red threads littering the space of their living room enough to where they had to duck in order to cross the room. Jeno remarked that he felt like a spy. Donghyuck laughed.

Donghyuck pointed to a paper on the left wall from the front door—well, a cabinet, since that side of the house was their apartment’s pitiful rendition of a kitchen. It had a tally for every body found, then a large line separating those tallies from the other set of tallies representing every disappearance. Each Tally had its own respective thumbtacked thread leading somewhere across the room. Ten bodies, 16 disappearances. “Four of the murders weren’t disappearances—or, I guess they were, but they were only ‘gone’ for a day before being found. They also were, I guess, killed in a different way. No gashes, like most of the dead ones, just gone. God, I wish they told us how.”

“Me too, but at least we can pin that to the other guy they were talking about. The one who isn't ‘You-know-who’. So that's four murders to 'other guy', then all the rest of the disappearances and murders to 'you-know-who'. Great.”

The strings on four of the 'murder' tallies were twisted together, and they led to a paper taped on the wall right where their television used to be, to the right of the front door, before they moved it onto the carpet for this very reason. Underneath the large ‘other guy’ written on that paper were the words ‘gone’, and ‘no disappearances’, as well as the names of the four victims.

On the far right wall of the apartment, there were three papers in a triangle-like shape—one had the name ‘Taeyong’ scrawled on it, the next had ‘Doyoung’, and below them were ‘Mark, Jaemin, Renjun’. There was a thread connecting ‘Taeyong’ and ‘Doyoung’, and from ‘Doyoung’, there was a thread that led to the paper below them.

“And then obviously, Ten knows those guys, and the officers, who also know everyone else. Jesus Christ.” Jeno shook his h ead, putting up two more respective papers and connecting them not only with each other, but also to Doyoung, Taeyong, and Mark’s papers. “This is such a cluster-fuck. It’s like everyone around us all know something that we don’t.”

Donghyuck hummed. On the back wall, there was a paper named ‘You-know-who’, and another one with a question mark on it. A thick twist of string was connected to the former, sagging with enough weight to have the thumb-tack holding on for dear life, from the very first paper, tying all of the tallies together. The latter had nothing written on it aside from the question mark.

That is, until Jeno pulled out the sticky notes. The very first one he made was one that said ‘door?’, because the second they had stepped foot out of the precinct Jeno made sure to clear up the confusion that he didn’t leave the door open. He was so insistent, in fact, that Donghyuck had to physically stop him with an elbow to his side, his stomach churning at what that meant for their future safety (he had called their apartment’s office shortly after—notifying their plans to change the locks).

“Alright,” Jeno took a second to grunt with the effort of stabbing himself in the foot with the couch springs in order to reach the question mark, “Wong Yukhei, Zhong Chenle, Xiao Dejun. Dejun and Yuhkei went missing two months ago, and Chenle a month and a half–before the rest. They mentioned Chenle on the news that one time, which was weird, because they didn't mention any of the more recent ones by name.”

Donghyuck also had sticky notes, and was sticking one that said ‘Pink-eye = slur?’ on the officers’—then a thread to the question mark. “As if he was particularly important, but why? ‘Cause he’s a kid?”

“He’s not much younger than us. So I don’t know.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s probably significant. Mark it.”

“I am.”

And the stretch of silence that came after that marked the eighth hour of their sleuthing, most of their time being taken up by research and trying to get the thin threads to stay pinned to the walls, and with how many connections there seemed to be, it didn't seem like they would stop any time soon. Donghyuck pinned another thread to his ‘Pink-eye’ sticky, connecting it to ‘Other guy’. He made several more—’Thnitoi’, ‘Portal’, ‘Influenced our city’—and placed them on the question mark. His head was really starting to ache.

“What do you think these mean? Thnitoi, Pink-eye? I feel like Thnitoi is, like, here. Like, here. Either our house or some area close by?”

“I’m not sure. I looked it up, and couldn’t find anything that made sense. Something Greek. Though, I don’t expect to find any reliable information on portals online either.”

Donghyuck groaned into his hands. “I feel like we’re going crazy. I’ve never once heard the term pink-eye and we literally live on the shittiest side of town. If racism’s anywhere, it’s here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but I can’t tell if they think he’s super important or not. Like, obviously he’s one of the murderers, but they didn’t sound super alarmed, did they?”

Donghyuck shook his head, and Jeno continued with a sigh. “They sounded like they already knew who he was—or how to get him. ‘Deal with a Pink-eye’, it’s almost like they’ve had to get someone like him more than once. Maybe we should look into other small close-knit murders, maybe we can find a pattern in that, and it can tell us a bit more.”

“I already tried.” Donghyuck said. “There have been some, yeah, but no perps have been–either found, or named. I suspect that the officers are covering them up. Something’s not right with them, seriously. Every new fucking thread just makes things more complicated—I honestly thought there wouldnt be as many as connections as there are. And, Ten? What does ‘influencing’ mean?”

Donghyuck already thought he knew. He didn’t want to say it, because it really was crazy—on a bigger level than the portal—but if he was right, then this entire mess was about to get far more complicated. He steeled himself and opened his mouth, but the truly impressive noise that Jeno’s stomach made in that moment made him laugh instead.

“Hyuck, help.” Jeno turned to look at him, his eyes wide with false-fear. “I think I’m dying—need food, please.” He then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and fell to his knees, clutching at his abdomen with his other. Donghyuck checked the time—6 PM.

“It’s almost curfew. Do we have anything here?”

“We ate it all when we were locked up for a month. Plus, the pig himself said we should go outside more.”

Donghyuck snorted. “Yeah, in busy places. I highly doubt that walking around right before a police ordained curfew is going to be a busy environment.”

Jeno was tugging at Donghyuck’s pajama pant’s leg from where he was dramatically writhing on the floor. At least he’s less stressed out than before—more like his normal self , and that’s exactly what got Donghyuck to agree. He—they both needed some normal, and Donghyuck loved Jeno’s normal, even if what triggered it was the two of them investigating a string of murders and how their boss is involved. “Fine, fine–where are we gonna go.”

Jeno stood up at that, grinning—triumphant. “I was thinking Table-Top. I miss that deliciously grimy, drunk, IT nerd atmosphere. Plus, we don’t have to stay long. They’ll probably close for curfew anyway, so we can get a take-out pizza and just come back here and stare at our masterpiece while we eat.”

Something about it gave Donghyuck a dark feeling, even as he smiled at his friend and slipped his shoes on—as if they really shouldn’t do this, but then Jeno looked back at him from where he was waiting with his hand on the doorknob and gave him such a happy smile that Donghyuck just had to follow. He always did, in the end—follow Jeno’s smile.

Notes:

Here's my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes

Chapter 5: You Found Me!

Notes:

Brand new! Try not to hate anyone too much by the end of this haha!

Made some good edits! Donghyuck punches someone! Enjoy!

 

It turns out, Donghyuck was wrong.  Their walk from the apartment to Table-Top was busy. Something they didn’t consider was the alarming number of late-night employees getting out of work an hour or two before curfew, giving them enough time to get home safely. Their area wasn’t too bad, but the closer they got to the center of the city, the worse it was. By the time they arrived, it was already well past 7:30, and the sky was growing dark—the sunset hidden behind the thick mat of storm clouds above them. 

The only reason Donghyuck realized this was when his hands ghosted over the sides of his pocketless sweatpants in search of his phone—which was definitely not with him, probably growing warm after being left open, and was instead in his living room. When his face dropped at this fact, Jeno was there and ready, shoving his phone into Donghyuck’s face close enough to where Donghyuck could see every pixel that made up his background—the two of them at the gym. 

Donghyuck whined, deep in his throat. “We might as well go home at this point, Jeno. An hour. Our twenty-minute walk took us an hour, and we aren’t even there yet.”

“An hour and a half.” Jeno corrected, wrapping his arm around his friend’s waist. “We might as well be there anyway; I smell cheap beer.”

Donghyuck shivered at the chill of the impending storm, the drizzle—drops so small that it might as well have been mist—seeping through his clothes, and just on time, the pair turned a corner and found a fuzzy glow waiting for them. The light was from a large neon sign above the establishment reading “Table-Top” in white, green, and red. The structure was crammed between two other buildings, one being an office supply store and the other being a smoke shop. The only thing keeping the walls apart were alleys on either side, wide enough for two people to walk shoulder-to-shoulder, though they would be squished together uncomfortably.

It was more lively than the ginger expected, laughter and shadows of the people inside spilling out into the street every time the door was opened, and one step through the entrance told them that it was even more chaotic than it seemed—curfew be damned. Donghyuck wasn’t really close with anyone in his classes, but he’s been invited to many gatherings at Table-Top. It’s a popular hotspot for students—drunk art majors causing public disturbances as they walk home, snobby IT dorks snitching on the bartenders for serving minors. A mess, really. He absentmindedly reached for his pocket, once again searching, and didn’t know whether to smile out of embarrassment or sigh when his hand brushed over his leg like before. 

In his search for normalcy—or his desperate need to keep his friend’s smile, whichever you prefer—he had apparently forgotten many things. Appropriate clothing was a fantastic example. His sweatpants were thin, despite being sweatpants, which wasn’t protecting him from the wet weather at all. They were long, too, and if he took a wrong step, he would trip—or pants himself. His shirt was equally thin, equally unhelpful, and equally long, falling to the middle of his thighs. Jeno looked fine as per usual, if not a little cold, his muscle shirt a bit of a ridiculous choice. At least his shorts had pockets.

“Jeno, do you have a twenty?” The ginger looked to his side expectantly, but was met with an empty space where his friend should have been.

He doesn’t know when, but he had slipped out of Jeno’s grasp, and instead of right next to him, Jeno was standing in the middle of the front doorway. Usually, as people aggressively pushed past him after getting bored of asking nicely, Jeno would’ve snapped, but he was frozen in place, staring into a particularly excited group of college students. 

“Jeno? I need your wallet.” Donghyuck called, loud over the noisy atmosphere. “Please tell me you’re not standing like that ’cause you forgot cash.”

Jeno didn’t reply. 

Donghyuck followed his line of sight. “You know them or somethin’?” He said, a flash of pale skin making him cringe. Fellow Calc. major. Gross, nerdy freaks that usually looked at Donghyuck like he was a nuisance when he asked too many questions in his mathematics prerequisite. Aside from Jeno, obviously. “Someone one-up you in advanced trigonometry or—whatever?”

No reply, not even an amused huff of air. The dark feeling Donghyuck had felt before they left began to creep back into his gut. What happened to normal? He sighed, and approached. 

“Jeno? Do you want pizza or not? I’m starving.” Donghyuck really started to feel uneasy when his roommate’s eyes didn’t meet his. He stepped into his field of view, getting into his face so that he was the only thing Jeno could look at. “I know you said you were hungry before, but something's obviously wrong, Jen. We should just go back home; it’s getting late…”

 Jeno’s eyes were unfocused, as if he was trying to see through Donghyuck’s face. 

There were several people trying to get out of the door, which Donghyuck didn’t realize until he was being shoved to the floor by a large flock of what must’ve been the college students that Jeno was looking at. The only thing that told him this was the reaction Jeno gave them when they left. He followed them out. Not in his, usually angry, ‘you hurt my best friend’ way, but a calm, forced way that made Donghyuck furrow his eyebrows. Not even a blink? Dude, I just wanted pizza, why can’t I catch a fuckin’ break.  

It was darker outside than he remembered, and when he looked up he saw the neon light of the sign reflecting off of a particularly thick clump of clouds. Donghyuck grumbled. 

I forgot. It’s going to fucking rain. Great. I hate the rain.  

He hadn’t stopped walking, but he had gotten distracted enough to not know he was about to crash into his best friend. When he did, Jeno didn’t move. Just like inside, he was stock-still—just staring. Donghyuck shook Jeno’s shoulders gently. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny. For real. Like, I’m not trying to mess around. No ‘ha-ha, Jeno you’re not funny’. This is just genuinely not funny.”

A flash of light stuttered in the distance. Lightning.

“Dude, what’s wrong.” Donghyuck raised his voice a little—which was rare. The last time Donghyuck yelled at Jeno out of irritation was when he woke him up at 6 AM to get him to go to the gym—and that was three years ago. Not only that, but Donghyuck went with him anyway.

Something was scratching at him, deep in his chest. Jeno was breathing—which was good, because if Donghyuck, with his wide expanse of knowledge about his friend, wasn’t looking as hard as he was looking, he would think Jeno was having some sort of medical problem–but it was normal. Like, too normal—a machine. Perfect, even, deep, in-and-out, sort of breaths that were so normal they were almost alien.

Donghyuck looked over his blond friend’s shoulder, fed up and starting to freak out. “Jeno, what is the problem—”

There, standing in the middle of the road several feet ahead of them, was a pale boy. He was skinny, and his lips were pulled into a smile so uneven it looked uncomfortable to wear. Donghyuck was briefly reminded of how Mark looked under the LED lights at the gas station—the skin tone uncanny—and sucked a breath in. The thought was discarded when he recalled an image from earlier in the day, though, of a much tanner Mark walking towards him through pools of sunlight, as well as when he regarded what the guy in front of them was wearing. It was simple; a graphic t-shirt with a band on it that Donghyuck didn’t recognize, and jeans that sagged low on his hips, as if he were too skinny to fit into them. Not to mention the shock of strawberry blond hair on his head, scruffy in a maniacal way—sticking up here and there–which showed, when he turned his head to fully look at the two if them, that in several spots there were patches of uneven strands, as if the boy had reached up and tugged some out. Weird. Real weird. Donghyuck clenched his fists and tried not to roll his eyes too hard when he thought, I’ll bet Jeno five bucks that he’s with those three freaks. Renjun did say that someone would come for me, after all.

The neon light cast a shadow over the figure’s eyes so that they couldn’t be seen, but Donghyuck could tell that they didn’t flick towards him once. He was only staring at Jeno.

Donghyuck’s first reaction was to say something mean, because obviously this person had offended or hurt Jeno to the point of silence, but he couldn’t when he might be with Mark and the others. His second instinct was to try and pry as much information as he possibly could out of him. Then the man spoke, and Donghyuck once again felt entirely lost in the situation. 

“Jeno? Is that you?” The guy’s voice was strange, rumbling as it dragged up his throat and curling into a higher pitch while it dallied over his tongue, and he sounded hopeful. His expression had morphed into one of recognition, almost before Donghyuck could catch the one that came before it. He knew Jeno, but above that, it looked like he wanted Jeno.

Donghyuck regretted leaving the apartment. Not that he felt any certain way about the guy in front of them, he just… wasn’t such a fan that he didn’t know him—and then Donghyuck decided that he did, in fact, feel a certain way about him. Donghyuck wrinkled his nose, holding back a scoff. He’s gross and is looking at Jeno like a shark. Who is this kid?

Jeno hadn’t opened his mouth to speak, so if he was ever going to, the chance was robbed from him, a chorus of groans and complaints bouncing down the allies behind them. 

“Y’all can come on back tomorrow, it’s curfew in five. I suggest you start home, now. “

Donghyuck shuffled closer to Jeno, who still hadn’t moved an inch, as the loud, probably drunk, group of students that were inside dispersed around them as if the both of them didn’t exist. When Donghyuck’s eyes followed the last person of the group as they stumbled around a corner and left his line of sight, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye—the pale boy. 

He had gotten much closer, and had somehow moved around the pair without them noticing, standing eight feet away and leaning against the brick wall of Table-Top. Well, without Donghyuck noticing. Jeno had turned around completely, staring at the boy with the same dazed expression he’s had since they’d arrived. 

“It’s been, like, so long! Why haven’t you called!” The ghostly man said, joyously enough, but his mouth was the only thing that moved—his body not shifting away from the wall and his smile not reaching his eyes.

“...Stuff came up.” Jeno replied with a soft tilt of his head, sounding confused. “We were hiding.”

Donghyuck could confidently say that he was much more baffled than Jeno.

“Jeno, who is that?.” Donghyuck asked stiffly, shocked at the honest answer. 

The boy didn’t seem to fully register that Donghyuck was there, his eyes flicking over to him briefly before focusing back on Jeno.

“Babe, come here.” He said gently, and Donghyuck’s roommate immediately followed his instructions. In four steps, Jeno was hovering next to him. Jeno looked...small. The pale man next to him was only an inch taller than his roommate, but the way he seemed to straighten whenever Jeno looked at him made him look giant. 

There was that itch again.

“Yo, what? Babe?” Donghyuck repeated, sending a bewildered look towards Jeno. 

The boy leaned over to place a gentle kiss on Jeno’s cheek, and murmured something too quiet for Donghyuck to hear. 

“Yeah.” Jeno jolted into action, a windup toy after being wound, when the man pulled away. “Babe. We’ve been dating for a while. Didn’t think to tell you. Must’ve slipped my mind.” His sentences were short in a way that would almost make him sound irritated that Donghyuck had asked, if it didn’t seem so automated.

He’s fucking with me . Donghyuck scoffed. “Oh please . ‘Slipped your mind’? Jeno, you make sure to bring up embarrassing shit I’ve done, like, ten years ago at every convenience to you. No shot you just forgot.”

“Well, maybe he just doesn’t want to share everything.” Donghyuck sniffed, tilting his head to the side to fully size the pale kid up. Love Jeno and all that, but his piece is fucking annoying—and he hasn’t even said all that much to me. The guy smiled back, as if he knew.

“Whatever.” Donghyuck pressed his lips together and tugged the corners into a smile. “Hi, I’m Donghyuck, nice to meet you.”

At that, the boy directed his full attention to him, his eyes sparkling with interest, and now that Donghyuck was closer he could see that there was something funny about them. They were pink. It was different from Ten, who had irises that looked dull and flat and plastic—contacts.The guy in front of him had eyes dipped in glitter and covered in resin like a fake gemstone—his irises almost too big for his eye shape.

“Donghyuck, hm? Pleasure,” he said, slow like sap, “I’m Chenle. I’m actually glad I have the chance to meet you. Really glad.” It really was like sap, thick,  every word wrapping around him—cornering him—as if to hold him there until it dried and turned to amber.

“Wait— Zhong Chenle? Like, from the news? You were reported missing!” Donghyuck let his eyes stray, looking to Jeno in hopes of seeing something, anything on his face that could explain what he was doing with Zhong Chenle wrapped around him.

Chenle shook his head with a faint smile, and the movement drew Donghyuck back in. “I don’t follow.”

“I—” Donghyuck paused, knitting his brows together and bringing his arms up to cross them over his chest. “You were reported missing on the news. Like, a month and a half ago. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“A month and a half? Wow, that’s a long time.”

It started to rain properly, drops not so frequent but falling with more volume, right as Donghyuck frowned, his arms slowly falling to his sides. He copied Chenle, shaking his head nice and slow and speaking just the same. “Like I said, you were on the news. You’re—you were , I guess, missing.”

“I’m missing?” He took a second, then nodded. “I guess I was. Well, you found me!” Chenle said, always slow. His gaze was intense—unyielding, and Donghyuck had to physically make himself breathe. “Yeah, found me.”

“Yeah. Found you.” There was a long stretch of silence, and Donghyuck used every second of it to plan what he wanted to do next because, regardless of how passively Chenle spoke, There’s something frenzied about him, and he’s got his hands on Jeno. The more he looked, the more he saw it. Chenle’s eyes were sharp, and they followed every move Donghyuck made—meeting his eyes, grazing over his head when his hair flicked with the weight of a raindrop, catching on his adam’s apple when he swallowed before he spoke—completely ignoring Jeno as if he was waiting for Donghyuck’s next move, just like Donghyuck himself was.

“Well,” Donghyuck cleared his throat, ducking his head and never breaking eye contact. He began to take steps towards Jeno—who had been too quiet. “We should get going. Curfew’s probably hit, and we’ll get sick if we stay out too long.” He reached out for Jeno’s wrist.

“I think you should go, Hyuck.” Chenle said, gesturing in the general direction of where they came from. He beamed, pulling Jeno closer by his waist and pressing himself against his back— away from Donghyuck. All Jeno really did was stare, eyes empty.

Something hot grabbed Donghyuck’s heart. “What ?” He closed his eyes, trying not to get too upset. The use of Jeno’s nickname for him was a bit of a stab. “I wasn’t–don’t call me that. Please. Jeno, we should go.”

“Oh, Jeno. You should stay. Dangerous times, yeah, to be walking around?” He looked at Donghyuck, grinning at the way his face twisted at his words. Jeno nodded.

“No, really. I think we should go back to our apartment. Like, now. The both of us. Together. It’s already a long walk back, and I feel like the weather is gonna start going to shit soon. It was nice to meet you, Chenle. Hopefully I’ll see you again.” He almost wavered while he spoke, his palms getting sweaty. Pressure wasn’t exactly his strongest performance condition.

It’s making more sense now. Renjun had said that someone would get me, if not them. That they would get me and not be as nice. Chenle doesn’t seem very nice. I should’ve placed that bet. He thought that last remark with a wry smile.

“Donghyuck, really. I think you should go without me.” Jeno finally said. He sounded normal, now, his usual vernacular and cadence emerging from whatever mimic of himself he had been sporting, but what he was actually saying could not be farther from the Jeno Donghyuck knew.

“I mean—but, like, those guys said someone else is coming, and—well,” Donghyuck deflated. It was different when it was just some guy telling him to walk home alone. He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t hurt, he wasn’t even mad. He was confused, he was scared, and he was growing desperate. “Not to be—I’m a little lost as to how you know this guy. Sorry, like, I hate to sound rude—you know that—but maybe you have the wrong person? Of course you don’t, you would know. What I mean is, I’m just not sure—”

Jeno’s eyes flashed in sync with Chenle’s. “No, really. Chenle wants to stay here, and—like, I think you’d be safer if you just went home. So I don’t have to keep an eye on you, y’know? And, like, we can always talk this out later. You don’t have to turn this into a fight.”

“Oh, baby, go easy on him. I like him.” Chenle pouted, eyes sparkling. Donghyuck felt his face grow warm, both at Chenle’s action, and Jeno’s words.

“Since when do I—” He sighed through his nose, letting his eyes flutter shut. Donghyuck has never been good with expressing how he feels with his tongue. He used his body to show his joy, his fear, and he often used his mind alone to harbor his sorrow. Anger was different—he was plenty good at using his words when he was angry.

His relationship with his parents is proof enough. His mom calls him ‘her sun’, beautiful and scalding.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m not trying to fight, I’m trying to understand. If you’ve been dating him, why were you treating him like he was missing? Just, like, an hour ago—you were talking about why you think he might be connected to the pink-eyed g—”

Chenle twitched, his fingers tightening around Jeno’s bicep. “It’s dangerous out.” He tilted his chin to the ground, looking at Donghyuck through his eyelashes. “Much too dangerous out. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

Jeno nodded, shrugging his shoulders. Donghyuck locked onto him, his eyebrows raising. “I’ll—okay, so with someone out to get me, you want me to walk home after curfew ? Alone ? You aren’t worried about that prospect at all? Mark, Renjun and Jaemin were difficult enough to deal with—even with both of us combined, what happens if the next creep is actually the next ‘creeps’?” There was a vacancy in Jeno’s eyes that poked Donghyuck the wrong way—as if he wasn’t allowed to decide, at Chenle’s mercy. So, when Chenle didn’t want him to stay, Donghyuck had to go. “Lock the door behind you.”

And those five words sent Donghyuck right past the rest of the obligatory irritation stage of anger—he was fucking furious.

Which was perfectly followed by Chenle opening his stupid fucking mouth, and Donghyuck just couldn’t help himself.

“I think—“

“I don’t give a damn what you think . As far as everyone is concerned, you’re dead ! You go missing for-fucking-ever ago and youre acting like it’s some cute little game! You’re psychotic! Give me my best friend back !” He rounded on Jeno, grabbing his wrist and tugging with more strength than he thought he had. “And you . We’re going home—and by the time we get there, you better have something fucking magical thought up as an excuse, because we have a sticky-note with you’re ‘boyfriend’s’ name on it on our living room wall, and earlier you were treating him like a mystery just like I was!”

“Lee Donghyuck, get off of me.” It was a command, and Donghyuck listened—yanking his hand back as if Jeno had burned him. He might as well have. “Seriously, go home. You’ve said some shitty things before, but holy shit man.” Jeno was glowering at him, and Donghyuck had seen that expression on him many times—but never once directed at him. He felt an explosion in his chest, his veins filling with fire. “When have I ever been shitty to you?! Just because—actually, y’know what? I don’t know! I actually have no idea what’s going on right now! I have zero fucking clue—and honestly, Jeno, I dont think that you know what’s going on either!”

Jeno huffed with a grin, looking at Chenle with that look, like he thought Donghyuck was being ridiculous. It was more than enough—this whole conversation was enough , and Donghyuck laughed at it, right as the neon sign flickered out.

“Okay, you win! Fine—that’s fine ! I’m going back to my apartment.” He nodded to himself, adrenaline thumping through his temples. “Yeah, to my apartment, and, Lee Jeno, I don’t want you to show your face around me ever again ! Don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t find me at work, nothing. You can find your shit tomorrow morning on the fucking curb . The next time you talk to me, it better be about the lease, because if it’s anything else I swear to god–”

Donghyuck said that last bit through clenched teeth, and just after it was out he took one last look at his friend—at some guy , apparently, since Lee Jeno decided to waste eight years of friendship in a record-breaking five minutes—and then whipped around, and stormed off.

It rained harder with every step he took, fully soaking through his clothes and making him feel heavy—as if he didn’t already. The anger didn’t fade, and sadness didn’t show its face, but he started to tear up anyway. He already didn’t remember half of what he said, and two minutes into his walk, furious as he was, he knew he’d overreacted. One conversation–one argument, it couldn’t trash eight years , could it? 

He felt horrible—not in a guilty way, but he already missed him. If Jeno saw Donghyuck like this—the real Jeno, because that wasn’t Jeno—he wouldn’t even ask about the fight. He would go find the guy, and punch him. Then he would’ve asked, and then hugged, and then held. Old Jeno would deck the shit out of this Jeno.

He was only another minute closer to home when the thunder started, and as the light echo of a crash made its way to the street he was walking down, he was suddenly speeding back towards Table-Top. Well, Jeno isn’t here. He can’t beat up whoever hurt me. But, y’know what? I can.

Donghyuck wasn’t a violent person. He was annoying on purpose, to get a reaction, maybe a little man-handling because he thought it was funny. Jeno was the physical one, when he had to be, and Donghyuck was the witty one, and they both liked it that way, but it’s Jeno’s fault that he’s about to have a broken nose—not Donghyuck’s. He should’ve thought of that consequence before he said what he said.

He was sprinting, pulling his pant legs up by the soggy fabric over his thigh with one hand and tugging at the waistband to cover up his boxers with the other, and panting hard by the time he arrived ready for a fight. Does he have a full plan? No. Does he think he could beat Jeno in a fight? Absolutely not. Does he think Jeno will hit him back? Ten minutes ago the answer would’ve been a hard no , but Donghyuck wasn’t so sure anymore.

The only problem was, they were gone. Both boys had disappeared out of sight. Donghyuck froze momentarily, feeling alone and exposed, then jogged over to the building to peek through the window on the door. The interior was draped in shadows, and there was no movement inside. Though it makes sense that they wouldn’t have broken in. That’s something only Donghyuck would’ve convinced him to do. To his left, he heard something gross. 

A choked moan, no doubt Jeno’s due to the fact that it wasn’t high and infuriating.

Donghyuck scoffed and stormed along the side of the building, feeling his way to the alley. It was dark , and with no moonlight, or neon sign, to guide him, he could only open his eyes as wide as possible and feel like a fool while doing it. Once he turned the corner he saw that there was a small light above a side entrance that led to a storage room at the supply store; a lightbulb dangled over the small door, providing a weak circle of light to guide him through the darkness. Underneath said light were two figures writhing against each other. 

Donghyuck stalked forward, teeth chattering, and he was so ready , until he caught sight of something odd. Not that this whole thing wasn’t another addition to the unfortunate event train that had taken him hostage that past month, but this felt especially bad.

Jeno wasn’t… in control. As gross as it was to think about, the Jeno that Donghyuck knows wouldn’t bottom a twink like that —and that’s not even his point. A hammer to the head of the nail that said, ‘That’s not my Jeno’.

Jeno was a mess, his hands searching for purchase by scrabbling against the pale boy’s arms. Another thing that stood out was how Jeno’s knees seemed to buckle every time the boy in front of him kissed his neck. 

This is disgusting.  

Donghyuck took a couple more steps forward anyway, this time bringing his attention to Chenle. Something was different about him. He seemed to have more energy than before, not as slow, hungrily moving his mouth against Jeno’s neck. It was the same spot too, reeling backwards every few seconds to pull Jeno back onto his feet before diving back in for more. 

Donghyuck groaned, shaking his head and cringing, and used the sight in front of him to power his legs and his right arm—stalking forward three more steps and reeling his elbow backwards,

And then pushing with his foot as hard as he could to drive himself forward and slam his fist right into Jeno’s cheekbone.

A bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, right as Jeno’s body hit the ground, and the scene before him started to click together in ways that made Donghyuck’s anger slip between the strings of his heart. He didn’t want to fight anymore, he decided—he didn’t even want to be there anymore. 

He had to wait for another one though, to be sure, because Donghyuck’s anger had been so strong that what he thought was happening really, really needed to be happening for all of this to just flush away.

Then it did, another bolt wiggling its way across the heavens.

And when the darkness returned and the thunder tore its way towards the alley, Donghyuck screamed.

Notes:

Tell me all your thoughts! I want to know the gossip lol

Also, here's my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes

Chapter 6: Kiss Me, Please?

Notes:

CW:
Non-con/dub-con
-removal of clothes, kissing, touching
Gore
-seriously, watch out if gore is a thing for you

 

Chapter 6, out and ready! Enjoy!

He had knocked Jeno over by punching him just past the top of Chenle’s head—his neck bent over to do whatever it was he had been doing to his friend. Donghyuck had been so angry, furious , that he didn’t think twice about it, about the fact that one hit sent his impressively strong Jeno to the ground. Donghyuck was weak, relatively speaking. He should have known right then. He didn’t. He only did catch up when Jeno was gone, and Chenle was left with his mouth hanging open and something dark dripping from his teeth. Donghyuck had screamed, yes, but only when Chenle threw his head back with a vile, throaty moan and let the lightbulb above his head illuminate his face with its weak light.

Wrinkles and veins bubbled out just under Chenle’s pale skin, blown purple and flushing his cheeks. His eyes were rubies—a deep red that looked just like the blood that was pooling around Jeno’s head on the nasty cobblestones like a cursed halo—his meal—and the thing had tilted it’s head to the side so that his rhinestone eyes were looking right at Donghyuck. Pink-eye. To deal with a Pink-eye. They were talking about a fucking vampire.

Donghyuck hadn’t moved yet, and there was ample time to–he could’ve even done something, anything at all. He didn’t. He stood still, his fingers still balled into fists at his side and his heart throbbing in his throat where it was torn raw. Chenle smiled at him, predatory. “I didn’t think you’d do that.” 

Deep, it was a deep, curling voice that was different from the one he had used with Jeno. Slow, deep, and flirty. “I like that.”

Donghyuck moved backwards with footsteps that dragged against the stone under his pink converses. Chenle was matching him, staggering towards him in a lazy, drunk way like zombies in the movies. “I like that, y’know. Your boyfriend was sweet, but not much of a fighter.”

“What did you do? What the fuck did you do?!” Donghyuck set his sights on Jeno, motionless aside from the weak writhing of his arms trying to get under his body to prop himself up. 

“I was just so hungry. All week it’s all I've been able to do. Eat. Month of no eating can do that. He liked it, I think.” Chenle’s mouth was spread wide, grinning. “Just couldn’t help myself. They were right, he was pretty yummy.”

“‘They ’? Who the fuck told you to—” He stopped short, stumbling at the realization that their living-room-turned-conspiracy-board led him right to the answer. “Doyoung. Taeyong. Jaemin, Renjun, Mark —it was them wasn't it.” Which of course led to the follow-up ‘ They made Chenle go after Jeno instead of you. To punish you, for not going with them in the first place ’ thought.

All Chenle did as a response was tilt his head, saying nothing except for a simple, “They didn’t mention you .” He lunged forward, arms ready to grab, and Donghyuck felt his stomach drop. 

“Get the hell away from me!” Donghyuck shouted, spinning on one heel and breaking into a sprint. 

Chenle’s laugh, at that, danced around Donghyuck’s head, slithering into his ears and past his drums until it hit his brain and made him completely miss the trash bag just in front of his left foot. Then, just like Jeno, he was on the floor, his chin split open and his teeth clacking together with a shock of pain. Chenle had a foot on the small of his back. He was trapped. “Easier than you thought, huh? Me getting you.”

Chenle laughed again, pressing down hard enough to shove every molecule of air Donghyuck possibly had straight out of his mouth with a groan. “I like you. I don’t understand why they’re so obsessed with your friend. He’s handsome n’all, but you’ve got so much more going for you. Just look at you.”

He dragged his heel forwards, still holding him in place while raising Donghyuck’s shirt. “You’re pretty. Like a girl.” Chenle hummed appreciatively, and Donghyuck cried out when he pushed his shoe forward once more—nearly breaking skin.

Jeno made a noise, a sick gargle, and Chenle’s attention was diverted enough for Donghyuck to scramble away, army crawling until he was able to stand. He didn’t run this time, like an idiot. He turned, and stared at the heap of skin that was barely illuminated by the weak light from the hanging bulb, now swinging around like a mourning star from the wind and rain.

Jeno was still moving, curling into himself like a cat and trying to keep a hand over the side of his neck despite the rain and blood slicking his grip. Donghyuck could only just make it out, the pattern of holes that decorated his friend’s skin, and right as it registered Chenle was picking Jeno back up, holding him by his armpits. He looked to the side, at Donghyuck, then dove back in, teeth glinting before they disappeared into a new set of punctures with a morbid click. Jeno seemed to actually fight this time, different from the way Donghyuck had found them. 

“Stop that.” Chenle said, breaking away, and Jeno only scrabbled against him more fervently. “Seriously, stop, you’re being no fun. Hey!” 

Donghyuck wanted to run—he wanted to run so badly —but he had to stay. Jeno was being eaten alive, and Donghyuck would rather burn the world down than let anything happen to him–even though he had already let it get this far. I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid.

At that thought he found himself making the worst decision of his life. He fought for air and launched himself forward, reeling his fist back once again and decking Chenle in the ribs. 

The rain was starting to sting, like sharp needles trying to sew through his skin, and as a deafening clash of thunder—the kind that shakes the ground under your feet—sounded from behind him and one of the brightest flashes of lightning he’s ever seen crackled across the sky, Donghyuck shrieked, recoiling at the feeling of his knuckles cracking. The adrenaline saved him, the only thing keeping him from falling over to cradle his hand to his chest and give up. If anything was a clear sign of his odds of surviving, it was that.

Chenle grunted–not in pain, but in annoyance, as he stumbled a single step to the side–and just before Donghyuck looked up he heard the sharp crack of glass against the wall, and a morbid thud nearby. He was thrown into full darkness, and the only thing he could really see was the glint of electricity off of two bloody eyes. He slid a foot behind him, trying his best to prepare for the thousands of awful things that could happen next. A thread of lightning danced across the sky above him.

He only saw it briefly, as lasting as a polaroid flash, but he saw enough–what was left of who he almost betrayed. Jeno's shattered body, now slumped against the wall of Table-Top instead of the storage room door. Donghyuck’s mind froze, sucking in a ragged breath–more rain than air–and wobbling to the side. Guilty.

Chenle was closer than he remembered, the next lightning strike illuminating the lazy smile on his lips that shined just under his best friend’s blood. 

Donghyuck wanted to pass out—he literally took a second to wish that he would pass out–thinking that if he was going to die tonight he would rather it be when he was safely behind his eyelids, but he caught another sight—more lightning—of his dying best friend, and stayed on the spot. 

And stayed,

And stayed, his mouth watering from panic,

Until he felt hands grip his sides and lift him up as if it was nothing. Stars and black spots splashed across his vision as the back of his head collided with a wall–Donghyuck wasn’t sure which one until he felt rough bricks tear up the small of his back where it was still sore from Chenle’s shoe. He was being watched, from inches away, and Chenle had that same, predatory look on his face that he had when he had first called Jeno’s name. The vampire was squinting at him, looking deep in thought, but another echo of earth shattering thunder followed an almost blinding light, which allowed Donghyuck to see that now the monster was looking at him with the second look he had given Jeno—want.

Donghyuck felt himself relax from a distance, going slack and letting Chenle hold him up. 

Wait…what? He felt a nagging thought poke at him from deep in his head, one where Renjun was standing to the side, as if to watch this disgusting scene unfold, with his arms crossed over his chest and a sincere ‘I told you so’ on his lips. Donghyuck had believed him, for what it was worth–but he didn’t know he meant that he and Jeno would be killed.

But Donghyuck was going to let him. He was going to let Zhong Chenle kill him–he even wrapped his arms around the monster’s neck.

This might be for the better. He sighed inside his mind, sitting down crossed-legged on the floor of his brain and watching his body pull Chenle closer from behind a television screen. This isn’t so bad. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

He couldn’t fight, something taking away his ability to control himself, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Jeno is dead. I could’ve stopped it earlier, if I had made him go home, or if I had stayed. This isn’t so bad. It’s kind of nice . Chenle stopped him just as their lips brushed, and spoke. Slow. 

“I remember. Being lost, I mean. I was saved, you know. They saved me. Let me save you, yeah? You and Jeno and me, all saved and happy.” It was so deranged, this Donghyuck knew, and the pang of ice cold fear that sliced through his consciousness almost actually saved him—almost brought him back up to the surface.

But then Chenle kissed him, and when he pushed his tongue into Donghyuck’s waiting mouth Donghyuck let out a noise he doesn't think he’s ever made. It was ob- scene —not even the best sex he’s ever had, and there had been some for the history books, has ever gotten him to make a noise like the one he made then. He was sharing Chenle’s air, head full of fuzz and the taste of metals, and he moaned . 

Chenle pulled back, licking his own lips, before speaking again, right onto Donghyuck’s cupid’s bow. “He told me to take Jeno away. I want you, too. Safe, with me. Me.” Donghyuck’s body nodded, mindless, and from inside he sat and watched and wondered why he didn’t want to stop—whatever this was. This abomination. 

…Maybe I want to be safe. Maybe I can be safe.

Which was funny, because Donghyuck thought this as he watched Chenle nearly tear him to pieces on his little monitor.

There were bloody teeth nipping at Donghyuck’s tongue and lips, frenzied, and wet hands moving under his shirt—trying to take it off—and holding him up by his neck. A thin, pale leg hoisted the dazed boy higher on the scratchy wall by pressing up from between his thighs. Donghyuck cried out. 

I want him to kiss me like before. Kiss me, please?

The thing had tossed him aside, the skin over his knee scraped open and the fabric of his shirt tearing from the grip Chenle had on him. He was standing over Donghyuck, now, expressionless.

I want to go home. I wonder if he’s going to take me home. Something painful scratched across his hips when he was grabbed again. He didn’t really care. 

Donghyuck was up against the wall of the office this time, and his arms were reaching out towards the pale man as a silent request. Chenle obliged, leaning in to lick his neck. He giggled, drunken, bending his head so that Chenle had to stop. He heard himself say it out loud— kiss me, please, more, please —and the real Donghyuck was starting to shake, waking up. 

“Oh–oh-o -" For a moment he thought he might actually come, but his moans began to stumble on their way out—tripping on something slick—and it was at that point that everything cracked back into focus. There had been a snap , and as he registered the pain blooming across the side of his neck it caught up to him that it was the sound of teeth breaking through his skin.

A thick string of lightning whipped above him, and it finally settled with Donghyuck that the thing in front of him was a vampire, and he had been tricked so easily it would’ve been embarrassing if he wasn’t a minute away from dying. His dick wasn’t even hard.

“He–y.” His words popped over his tongue like bubbles through the blood in his throat. “Hey–h–stop!” Jaemin was right. It’s useless to bargain with murderers. The ginger’s arms felt weak, pushing away at Chenle’s chest to no avail. Well, until he threw his head to the side with as much force as he could, effectively shoving the monster’s face right into his shoulder bone, and let his eyes land on the only thing he had come back for in the first place. 

Jeno.

Donghyuck’s stomach began to churn with purpose, fear rising to his chest and cooking there. The last time he had looked in his friend’s direction he had only seen an outline of whatever horror he had been turned into. When he looked now, it was as if the sky itself had opened up for him and given him sight out of pity. 

Jeno was almost as pale as the beast. His arms were twisted, the dislocation of his left shoulder noticeable in how the bones inside of his skin sagged like rocks in a sack. His right forearm was broken, the bone snapped right in two and sticking out through the skin of his wrist. Donghyuck felt like he was suffocating, the blood that was sloshing in his lungs making him nauseous.

Donghyuck could see that Jeno wasn't moving, he could see the blood that was still flowing from the multiple holes in his neck, he could see his gaping mouth, his frozen, panicked expression.

There was one more. 

His best friend’s shattered skull and the chunks of brain that clung to the brick walls above his head. 

Donghyuck heard a memory—the sound Jeno’s body had made when he was thrown into the wall, as if he didn’t already know why Jeno looked like that, and he vomited, his throat, mouth, and nose stinging with the amount of blood that had mixed with the bile in his stomach. He gasped for air, preparing himself for the second heave. It passed without much trouble, his body seizing with the force of it but not resisting, and chasing after it was a weak, guilty noise—barely audible even to Donghyuck himself.

“No!”

If his throat wasn’t torn apart before then it surely was now, every breath sending more blood down his esophagus. He was already gagging up more blood and bile, and he cried out, feeble, when the monster detached itself to avoid the mess and he fell to the ground.

Chenle still had a grasp on Donghyuck’s arm. He flailed, a lot like he did, only much weaker, when Renjun had him by the ankle, but the grip was just as impossible. It worked, maybe, or maybe Chenle let go—to watch him run just so he could catch him again. He actually didn’t know what to think. The remnants of Chenle’s delusion ghosted in front of his eyes, calling him disgusting and unworthy of saving. Donghyuck sobbed at it. He dropped fully, his elbows slamming against the ground, and before he could fully get his bearings he was already dragging himself towards Jeno. He braced himself with one arm on the ground to hover over him, not feeling the sting of the trashy water soaking into his scrapes. Maybe it was the blood that was still flooding his intestines, or maybe it was the sight of his best friend’s shattered skull inches away from his face, but he turned his head and vomited again, until there was nothing left. 

When he turned back he wrapped his arms around Jeno with as much strength as he could and wailed as he tried to stand up. The open skull drooped towards Donghyuck’s face, and he screamed when it narrowly missed his cheek. Donghyuck was running out of time, trying to get enough air past the thick blood in his throat and move at the same time. It only took him two more tries to make him fall over. 

Dizzy, he was done, he decided, because he wanted to run and go home and he knew he would have made it to the entrance of the alley by himself if he had gone then, but he also wanted to stop, and stay with his best friend so he wouldn’t die alone—even though Jeno’s spirit had long left his corpse. Maybe so that he wouldn’t die alone, because yeah, he could’ve made it to the end of the ally, but not much farther.

Chenle was back, dragging him away by the soft inside of his hips, scraping Donghyuck’s chin across the cobble and tearing the skin on his belly where his shirt had been torn. Donghyuck let him, only trying to take Jeno along. He was floating, his torso in the air, his legs propped over Chenle’s shoulder and his arms latched onto Jeno like a lifeline. Then, he was back onto the filth, face pressed into a puddle of god knows what with Jeno’s body slumped onto his back from the momentum—and that was it.

Donghyuck wasn’t actively crying, his tears falling freely—his body too exhausted to put any real energy into it. He didn’t know what else to do, actually, so he just laid there—Jeno’s blood and brain dirtying his shirt and hair and skin and just about anything else it could reach.

“Oh, shit.” Donghyuck heard it come from behind him, a ways away—and from the way it warbled it must have come from across the street. A guy.

Everything around Donghyuck was starting to warble, though—the rain, the feeling of the hard rocks beneath him, the cold of the water and the filthy smell of death.

“Fuck.” Another guy. This one’s voice had something to it, an emotion—Donghyuck couldn't finish that thought before a third person spoke.

“You grab him. We get Mary.”

Whoever was speaking wasn't the vampire. None of them were. He could feel the footsteps, or maybe he could just hear them—regardless, something was pounding and one of his senses was picking it up well enough to where he knew it was happening. There was more, apparently the world wasn’t done with him. A scream—definitely from Chenle—followed by the loud crack of solid ground splitting open. There was a strong pulse, one that threw Jeno’s limp head to the side and sent whatever was left of his brain to the left of Donghyuck’s arm, and just as Donghyuck was ushered to the side by the burst there were two firm hands shoving Jeno’s body off of him and picking him up. This hoist was strained, and didn’t carry the same might as Renjun’s or Chenle’s, but he was lifted nonetheless.

He didn’t struggle, he just cried out pathetically, fingers twitching towards his friend. “Sto–“ he couldn't even finish a single word, unable to breathe anymore. “ Je –“ his eyes fluttered shut by themselves, and the hands that were holding him turned into arms that were cradling the ginger up on the figure’s hip like a child. “Stop trying to talk. Hold your breath and close your nose.” 

Mark. It’s Mark.

The thought was just about the only thing he could manage before his head rolled backwards and his mouth gaped—a water-catcher for the sky above. He held on for thirty more seconds, praying—Donghyuck wasn’t religious, but he’d realized that it’s really easy to want some big power in the sky to help him out in moments like these. Mark pressed his hand over Donghyuck’s mouth and pinched his nose, just like he did in his apartment, and just afterwards, the moment before Donghyuck felt himself go, he felt an astronomical tide of wet earth bury what was left of his life.

Notes:

Feel free to leave a comment ab what you think is going on and how you feel! Hearing from you guys really keeps me motivated!

Also, here's my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes

Chapter 7: The Green House

Notes:

Chapter 7, fresh out of the oven. I struggled with this one, making sure I wrote it so that it's going in the direction I want it to was more difficult than the others, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

 

Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered open to the smell of trash, and all at once everything hurt . Not just a distant ache, like a healing sprain—it was pain. The small of his back, his face, his brain, hips, knees, arms—every part of his body felt like a repeated stab from under his skin. He pulled his arms back, moving to prop himself up on his elbows, and when his chin tucked into his chest on his way up an icy-hot shock of agony tore through his entire torso from his neck. Donghyuck cried out, falling back flat onto the bed he was lying on, and then he cringed at what he heard. It was a scratchy, hoarse noise, almost inhuman. It was then that his insides told him that they were hurt, too. The gums around his teeth, his tongue, the inside of his esophagus, his lungs and nose and stomach all screamed at him to freeze—so he did. 

All he could do—or let himself do, in better words—is think, and Donghyuck realized he didn’t know where he was. It wasn’t his room, that was for sure, and he knew that not only because the bed was in the wrong place, but also because of the lack of rotten fish in the air. There were things towering over him, stacks of books that seemed to wobble with every breath he took, and medallions of stone and wood hung from the ceiling with symbols in metallic grays and greens painted on their surfaces. The walls were navy, and the ceiling was smooth plaster, unlike his apartment’s cheap popcorn. 

Then he remembered.

Jeno, skull open, brains scattered, arms twisted and legs broken, eyes dead, dull, and empty. And Chenle. The monster, the vampire , veins spread, needles of bone, ruby eyes, wicked grin, wandering, greedy hands. 

His stomach swooped.

Pain aside, Donghyuck heaved himself upwards, a breath knocked out of him at the stab he felt in his neck, and scrambled off of the bed. The comforter snagged on his feet and latched onto his arms, and when he finally broke free from his binds he threw his eyes around for a door, nearly collapsing when one of the medallions smacked him right in the middle of his forehead. He ducked, his heart racing, and locked on to a dark-green arch cut into one of the walls. He lurched towards it, his breathing starting and stopping and starting again as afterimages of the alley consumed him every time he blinked—tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

Donghyuck wasn’t really in the best condition to pay attention to his surroundings, but he was slapped across the face by multiple somethings as he limped down a hallway—and then his back found a wall and suddenly he was crouched in a ball, his head pressed into his knees and his hands clutching at his chest. He was teetering on being unable to breathe, hyperventilating and dry heaving, at times, and he didn’t know how long it was until he felt a tap on his shin. He choked on a hurried breath, startled, and threw his hand out to try and slap whatever it was away from him. It was warm, clothed, and didn’t move, so Donghyuck tried again. This time, his wrist was shoved aside. 

“Keep it down. You’re going to wake them up.” 

The voice slid right through Donghyuck’s sweaty panic and sent a chill down his spine. 

Mark .

Donghyuck slowly raised his head, his lips quivering. His neck muscles seized, pain shot through him, and his heart shuddered back into motion, picking up speed fast enough to punch the air out of his lungs with a loud wheeze.

Mark spoke again.

“Dude,” he sent a worried look around the room before focusing back on Donghyuck, “ Please shut up, seriously.” He was wearing his same getup, but this one was blue and silver. His hair was just as tousled as ever, and the black, wind blown locks were braided with tiny, white petaled flowers. 

Donghyuck cringed, shying away when he sat down in front of him. “I’m gonna make this fast, just ‘cause I’ve got to take care of some time-sensitive things, but try to bear with me, okay?” 

Donghyuck didn’t show any response, only trying his best to blink away the burning behind his eyes. 

Mark sighed and threw his eyes upwards. “Nod or something, I need to know you’re listening.”

He did.

“Okay, cool. First off,” he started counting on his fingers “I’m not a murderer.” Mark paused, looking between Donghyuck’s eyes. He let out a heavy breath through his nose when there was another lack of a reply. “Jesus–whatever. So, anyway, what you think you know…fuck I should’ve practiced this. I didn't expect you to wake up this soon.”

Donghyuck stirred at that, his eyebrows furrowing. Mark frowned.

“Your stupid boss made a really big, really inconvenient lie and told your entire town, and now I’ve gotta keep you here. Well, I would’ve had to keep you here either way. Or, no, I think you would’ve gone to Canem Silva–“ Mark was rambling, in an expected, frustrated way, but it was so out of character from the composed, cold person he thought Mark was that Donghyuck actually relaxed a little, his arms loosening their grip on his thighs and his back straightening. 

“ Regardless , Ten’s a sorcerer. Now, I am fully aware that you don’t believe me, nor do you know what that means, and you’ll probably get kinda annoying about it, so just hush and process that for a while so we can skip that part.” Mark stopped, looking for any sort of indication that he was being heard. Donghyuck nodded again, and Mark continued. “What he did–the lie he told, it drew the attention of, not only your entire town, which was the intention, but also a group of very dangerous people who have been looking for you since those bodies started appearing, if not before then.”

Donghyuck finally spoke up, pushing through the trail of fire each word left behind in his throat. “Ten did this?”

Mark’s frown deepened, and he shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. That came out wrong—he made it look like Renjun, Jaemin, and myself killed and took all those people, but we didn’t. This other group of guys did. They’ve been trying to find you, and when they caught wind of the fake news, they knew that you were for sure in town—and that they had to hurry.”

“How does your face on the news automatically mean that I live in the area?” Donghyuck couldn’t be more confused. His eyes welled up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about—please, I just want to go home. I have to find Jen—“ he turned to the side, bile, along with a flurry of fowl tastes, splashing onto his tongue. 

“He's dead.” Mark said, and when Donghyuck turned back to him he saw that Mark didn’t care. He was just looking at him, like he was just waiting for Donghyuck to stop so that he could keep going. 

Donghyuck shook his head, the sob that rattled it’s way up his chest coming out as a puff of air. “I don’t–I don’t understand, we were just getting food. We were just getting food, why did this have to happen. Why did you send Chenle to get us ?! Why not me? It should have been—” His words slipped through clenched teeth, sniffing—hurt. Angry.

A gray painted nail flicked Donghyuck’s forehead. “You’re actually being ridiculous,” Mark leaned back onto his hands, his legs crossed. “It’s like you didn’t hear a single thing I just said. I didn't do anything to hurt you, and I don't plan to.” Just like a month ago, or—

“How long have I been here?” 

Mark’s eyes widened just enough for Donghyuck to notice, like he was surprised to get a coherent thought out of the guy in front of him. Don't get him wrong, Donghyuck was surprised too. “Not even a day.”

So, yeah, just like a month ago at the gas station, Mark was scanning Donghyuck like he’d never seen anything like him before. Donghyuck shifted, the scrapes over his tailbone starting to ache, and the chunky silver rings on Mark’s fingers glittered through his wet eyes. His tears were drying, the reality of the situation, as questionable as it was, starting to settle with him. His heart didn’t cease it’s pattering, though—and it wasn’t looking like it was going to stop any time soon. “You’re crazy.”

Mark huffed out a laugh. “I’m not.”

“What about you saying ‘sorcerer’, what about the vampire that you literally sent after…us” Donghyuck cleared his throat, starting to digest.

Mark saw it, and hummed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. If I’m crazy, so are you—which I’m not.”

“I want to go home.” Donghyuck settled on saying, choosing that instead of twisting himself further into whatever psycho-fest he seemed to be in. This and that about a vampire—about a sorcerer. Ten being a sorcerer. Talk about ridiculous. None of my business, anymore. Get home, find J—

He sobbed again, dry and loud, taking both himself and Mark by surprise, and Mark heaved forward, pressing his hand over Donghyuck’s mouth for the third time since they’d met. “I won’t tell you to shut up again.” He said, his gaze dangerous, as he titled his head to nod his head towards a couch to Donghyuck’s right.

He’s dead. I can’t find him, because he’s dead. Donghyuck nodded, sinking into himself until he was properly uncomfortable against the wall—completely limp.

Mark pulled away, slow and careful, and once he was back at the distance he had been just seconds ago he was on his feet; disappearing into another green arch across the room.

God damn it. Donghyuck didn’t move to right himself, nor did he move to stand up—he just blinked until he could see clearly and looked around the room.

He might as well have been in the woods with how many plants there were. The smell was unlike any forest he had ever been in, a dense sensation of damp earth and humidity overwhelming his senses. He could barely see the ceiling through the number of hanging pots and pans that contained said plants, and they were also in large vases in the corners of the room. Aside from the abundant flora, he seemed to be in a living room. The couch that Mark had gestured to was a brown leather loveseat—with notably lumpy cushions—pushed up against the wall, and on the wall across from it was a brick fireplace, whose mantelpiece held even more plants along with several glittering crystals and a floating orb filled with some sort of dull blue fog. There was a large, crooked bookcase to Donghyuck’s direct left, and several different shelves fastened to the wall above his head—both were also being drowned with plants, though the bookcase was crowded with books of all sizes along with them. Covering most of the floor was a, rather ugly, brown carpet that was littered with footprint shaped dirt clumps, though they were too small to be Mark’s, like a kid’s, and Donghyuck briefly wondered if he had children. He didn’t seem like the type. The room had only three walls, and instead of a fourth there was a hallway that ran through the—from the looks of it—small house. 

Mark re-entered the room from the green archway directly across from him–one that led to another green clogged room—the living room foliage shifting around him. He had brought three things with him. In his right hand he was clutching a steaming mug of something that had a foul smell, and was a greenish-brown color. In his left, he was holding a mug of something that smelled, honestly, delicious—something a milky yellow—and Donghyuck’s stomach rumbled. Lastly, having nowhere else to put it, he was balancing a metal bucket on his head. Donghyuck could vaguely understand the drinks, though still a little worrying, but he was completely lost in terms of the bucket.

“Drink this.” Mark told him, crouching in front of Donghyuck and thrusting the flowery drink forward. To Donghyuck’s surprise, a tendril of some plant or another slithered downwards from a particularly clustered area of plants above them and wrapped around the bucket’s handle, lifting it off of Mark’s head and placing it on the rug to his right. “What–what the fuck was that?! How did that–?”

“Shut it. Drink.” Whatever was in the mug didn’t seem outwardly dangerous, if anything it smelled sweet, like honey, yet Donghyuck still flinched, gasping in surprise. He didn’t know what to think.

The man huffed. “Drink it.” He insisted, the mug steady in his grasp. “Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

Trust him? Donghyuck was too sore to laugh.

“Poison. It’s poisoned.” Donghyuck rasped, moving to shove it away. As soon as his hands started to lift off of the ground, two vines shot out from beneath the man in front of the ginger and pinned them against the wall. Donghyuck shrieked painfully, struggling against them. His head shot upwards to look back at his capture. “What the fuck?!”

He was hushed rather desperately, the man’s arms twitching as if he was going to shake Donghyuck’s shoulders but changed his mind. “I swear to the gods, I said I wouldn’t tell you again. Seriously, shut the fuck up . You don’t want me to make you.” Donghyuck pressed his lips together.

“Here, I’ll prove it’s not poisonous.” Mark brought the mug to his own lips and took a sip, albeit small. “See? Now take the mug, and drink it.” He said, a little tight, impatient. Donghyuck scanned the man’s features, locking eyes. They were a dark green, Donghyuck assessed rather dimly, with gold flecks scattered throughout his irises—which explained the light show he had seen at his apartment. Only as far as the colors went. The fact that his eyes started to glow at all was still sinking in. “I can’t drink with my hands tied.” He replied stiffly. The man pressed the mug up to Donghyuck’s mouth. “ Drink .” 

Having no other alternative, Donghyuck listened. It was dreadfully sour, and as the last of the liquid ran over his tongue it seemed to stop itself from traveling down his throat, instead curling upwards and sloshing around his uvula. He saw the man in front of him move for the bucket, and Donghyuck had enough control to hold back one gag before throwing up everything in his system. He hardly felt Mark wiggle a hand between Donghyuck’s stomach and where Donghyuck had pulled his thighs up to his chest to pull them outward. He placed the bucket on his now open lap, cringing as another round of vomit splattered against the side, almost spilling.

“Before complaining, drink this.” The man said, clearly ignoring the fact that Donghyuck was still tossing up his insides. Even when he was done, one look into the half-full bucket sent two more rounds of upchuck evacuating his stomach. It looked as if he had eaten a body, large clots of blood and dirt staring him in the face from their new metal coffin. Finally finished, the ginger nodded his head, blinded by his disgust and unable to stop himself from hoping for something good this time. He parted his lips as a sign he was ready for the next drink. As the man pressed the next mug to his mouth, the one that’s smell could easily trigger another gag, Donghyuck opened up wider—pleasantly surprised. It was warm, and a little salty, but didn't taste nearly as bad as it smelled, and didn’t feel anything like the first drink. As it, thankfully, traveled down his throat, the sore skin seemed to heal with it, some of the pain from that night leaving his growing list of problems. His nausea also seemed to disappear.

Mark stood up, taking the mugs, now stacked, and the bucket with him as he began to hurry away—the hand holding the bucket fully outstretched away from him. Donghyuck felt the vines around his forearms retreat, and when they did he got up too. “What did you just make me drink? How did you do that thing with the vines? Why did you bring me here?” He asked Mark, his voice still wavering despite the lack of pain. “You said you weren’t going to kill me, so why am I here?” 

“Keep the questions to a minimum.” Mark replied, sounding a little annoyed and sending a glance around the room so quick it almost looked like he had rolled his eyes. “You’re here so I can keep you safe. When you absolutely need to know things, then you’ll know.” 

Donghyuck ignored him. “How did you know that we–that I was in that alley?” The color drained out of Donghyuck’s face as the word grazed his tongue. “ It was you, wasn’t it? You sent Chenle? ” He pressed himself against the wall with more force, as if trying to hide behind its surface. 

Mark scoffed. “It’s actually impressive how words seem to bounce off of you. I already told you that I never intended to hurt you. More than once.”

“You can hurt someone without intending to—it’s called an accident. You threatened to crush my voice box the second time I saw you, which isn’t an accident. That sounded pretty deliberate to me.”

“Purely business.” Mark looked over his shoulder, having stopped to listen. “I was given an order, and I was doing what was necessary to follow it. As far as the… unfortunate encounter you had, I wouldn’t wish a vampire attack on anyone. It’s a painful death, as you’ve seen, and can also be extremely destructive to every other species on the planet.”  

“They’re an invasive parasite.” Mark said, his eyes serious. “However, not all of them are as—how should I put it. Feral? I know plenty of civil vampires.” He beckoned Donghyuck with a wave, disappearing into the foliage of an even more plant cramped room, the green room he had seen across the hall. Donghyuck followed at a distance, and when he ducked his head to avoid a dark red leaf he slapped a hand over his nose as a rotten smell met him. 

He was in a kitchen, now. It had mostly normal appliances, though the oven was cracked open and several wiggling vines were snapping out of it every so often, and the door to the microwave was completely unhinged, one corner of the door scraping against the floor, allowing a large bowl of sludge that was making a sound akin to a crying baby—loud and sharp—to fit inside. The plants in this room were dense, hanging low from the ceiling and ghosting Donghyuck’s ginger locks as he brushed past. There was a large cauldron in the center of the room, sitting on top of several stacks of dirty books that seemed to be leaking some sort of liquid out onto the cracked checkered floor tiles. 

After throwing the contents of the bucket into the cauldron, as well as the bucket itself as an afterthought, Mark went to the fridge, which, once Donghyuck craned his neck to look past the screaming pudding, he saw was full of murky bottles of liquids and things that moved. “You’ll need to clean yourself up, you’re filthy, so I’ll show you the way to the bathroom in one second—“

“Mark?”

The black haired man swung around to stalk towards the microwave, a small fish pinched in between his fingers. He sighed heavily. “What.”

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Donghyuck asked, slowly bringing the hand away from his face.

Mark scoffed, almost a laugh. “This is just about the safest place you could be. Plus, that last tea I gave you? You feel better, correct? I healed every internal injury you had. You’re welcome.” He tore the fish in half, throwing one half in the bubbling cauldron and the other in the bowl in the microwave, which abruptly silenced it’s cries. “I think that’s proof enough. I don’t want to kill you. I don’t even want to hurt you, like, at all. Is it inconvenient for you to be here? Yes, for the both of us, but I’m not here to put you in any kind of danger. And besides, you’ve got no other option but to.” He finished, looking just as bored as he did in the living room. “No more questions.”

“But why were you following us?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“What? You had to be following us in order to find us in that alley. So, why?”

Mark made a noise deep in his throat, patience running thin. “Donghyuck, for fuck’s sake, you’re the dumbest fucking Thnitos I’ve met in my entire life. To get you . I was going to get you, and bring you somewhere where those freaks can’t get you. That’s where my connection with this whole ordeal ends. My job was to get you, I did just that, and now you’re here. Since the very beginning, that’s why we were looking for you. You should know that since we tried it in you and your boyfriend's apartment. Now, no more fucking questions, please , or I’ll actually lose my mind.”

“What’s a thnitos?” 

Mark shut the refrigerator door as much as he could and stormed towards the archway, “Since you don’t seem to understand your current situation, I’m going to let you in on something. I would seriously consider not making me repeat myself. I’m not really a star player when it comes to the game of patience. To make myself clear—I don't plan, or want , to hurt you. However, if you keep this up, I might have no choice. Listen to me, for your own good.” Donghyuck clenched his hands and took blind, panicked steps backwards. He felt the rug catch his heel, falling with a loud shriek and a shock of pain as his body met the ground. Donghyuck heard a groan from both in front of him and to his right. He scrambled onto his feet, facing the less recognizable—less human noise, and found himself looking at the suspiciously lumpy couch.

“This is why. This is why you need to listen.” Mark said tiredly, placing a hand on Donghyuck’s chest and pushing him aside.

“Lizzy?” Mark called gently, taking slow, calm steps forward. “Lisabeth, are you awake?” 

Just as Donghyuck’s mouth opened to ask the question of ‘who are you talking to’—better yet “ what are you talking to” while trying not to piss him off, another muffled groan was heard from the couch. 

“ Now look what you’ve done.” Mark accused without looking. Donghyuck made a helpless noise, a sort of confused whine, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the correct questions to ask out of the fresh million he had running through his mind. “Wait here, and keep your trap shut . On my life, if you make so much as a whisper, that couch won’t be the only thing that blows up.” Mark hissed with a sharp glare before sneaking out of the room and disappearing behind a corner. Donghyuck heard a door creak—open and shut—and a lock click into place.

Blanketed in a tense silence, Donghyuck felt beads of sweat start to form on his forehead . He took a risky step forward, but froze when a loud moan came from the cushion in front of him. It moved .

He wanted to listen, he really did, but things—especially living ones—don't usually chill around underneath couch cushions. Donghyuck just had to know. “Hel–“ but before Donghyuck could get the full word out of his mouth a thick, slimy, yellow thing shot up from in between the two cushions of the loveseat.

Notes:

Enter Mark (as a more present character)! Hopefully the changes, however minor, I made to his personality from how he was in my other versions gives you guys a fresh look on what's to come. If you weren't there for the old versions, then I just hope you enjoy the true beginning of the markhyuck dynamic! Let me know what you guys think in the comments!

Also, here's my twt! If you want to stay updated with the fic then you can take a look there, and I also have a curious cat, so I can answer any questions you might have.

Bear Writes