Chapter Text
-4 days before Idol awards-
“I’m not sure about this…”
She keeps staring at it. Rolling the little pill between her fingertips. The last time she took one she bit clean through the bone of her thumb. They had to pull it from her mouth- the tooth stayed where it was- and she doesn’t want a repeat of that experience.
“I can always take it from you.” The muscular man leaned against the kitchen counter. It was hard to say anything without the whole house hearing about it. They only have two rooms, after all.
“And have you go on a sex craze like last time? I don’t think so. Romance still can’t walk.” Out of all the Saja. Abby pissed her off the most.
And yet, the burning of ire is absent. Instead survived by mild embers. Like it was suffocated by thick fog, she can’t see two feet in front of her.
“C’mon, you enjoyed it.” He’s coming her way, great.
“The drugs or the sex craze? It’s a no for both”
Why is she still here?
He sits down beside her, putting his feet up on the stained table.
His massive arm rests atop her shoulder now, the wobbly chair she rests on nearly tipping over with the added weight.
“You know, Rumi. It’s so boring having you around. All you do is mope and cry and fuck jinu. Don’t you ever want anything new? The world is ending soon, after all”
Is there anything new?
“First of all, no, that's not all I do. Sometimes I pull my skin off.” She illustrates the point by peeling a piece of her bicep. Flicking it his way.
“Eeh- will you stop doing that!.” He hurriedly wipes at his shirt. “Agh, why do I even bother with you! I just want to have a good time. I guess that’s impossible without you sobbing about your silly little hunters.”
She snatches his wrist, pushing her claws deep into it. She used to be so careful with them.
“Agh, bitch!” He grabs her arm, twisting it at an odd angle until it breaks with a wet crunch.
The claws loosen.
“Fuck, I hate that you don’t feel pain, fucking unfair.” He licks at the small holes left near his hand. Pouting.
“cry about it.” She wishes she could see Mira’s face right now, she’d be laughing her ass off-
Her eyes catch at the wound, bone poking out through flesh.
Zoey would be so worried.
Mira would already have the first aid on hand.
“…what’s in the pill?” She should care, they would care if they were here.
“What?” His scent becomes bitter, oh, is she annoying him?
“What’s in the pills, Abby?” What the fuck did she take last time?
(Zoey would care, Mira would care)
“It’s yoba. I thought you knew?” She can smell smugness on him, fuck this man.
“What’s yoba?”
“Didn’t Jinu give you those? It’s meth.” He smirks, all theatrical and punchable.
(Mira would laugh if she did it, Zoey would fix her knuckles)
Then, it registered.
“It- it’s WHAT.”
“Chill, its not as hard on us. Just a fun high”
“I’VE BEEN TAKING METH?”
“Why do you care?! You played in the snow with baby two days ago-“
She doesn’t fucking remember that.
“I- I what?”
“Damn, girl. You were really out of it, huh? It was at a party of one of Romance’s chicks, the one with the impossibly long black hair? Baby was all like-’ do you wanna do lines in the bathroom?’ And you said ‘why the fuck not’. We found you two butt naked in the pool in the morning.” His eyes flash, his uninjured hand cupping her jaw. His eyes are hungry. But so is every demon’s.
So are hers.
“I shouldn’t take this shit again.”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t.”
(Zoey and Mira would care, they would care. They don’t want her but they care.)
She looks down at her arm, it had started stitching itself back together. turns out it takes will to heal faster, takes actually wanting to. it’s still bent wrong. She’ll have to re-break it if she wants to do this right.
Her eyes closed, she takes a deep breath. Taking in the stench of week old takeout and cheap liquor. Hearing roaches skittering under the fridge. She knows what she’s looking for, the Honmoon. It’s soft , soothing voice. It’s guiding light to pull her away from sin. Her connection to her soulmates.
It’s still there, weak.
Her tendons are reattaching. She should fix it.
(Zoey and Mira would care. They don’t love her, but they care)
She misses being sung to sleep, of late nights having it’s pulse cover her footsteps when she snuck to watch her Celine sleep.
Of dipping her fingers into it’s strands like water, the cooling balm the only thing that quietened her patterns.
Sometimes, she thinks it spoke to her.
***Hello, little one.***
And now she’s watching it die.
All because she was too weak to keep her soulmates safe.
(Zoey and Mira care, they don’t love her, but they care. She cares, too. She loves them, though.)
(She loves them)
“So?” Abby’s nose is so close to hers, now. She can smell whiskey on his breath.
“I’ll take one if you do”
(She doesn’t want to hear it die)
————————————-
Baby has an idea.
It’s so fucking easy! Honestly Jinu could have thought about it.
They have Zoey’s phone. It’s charged and unlocked. They took it from Rumi after her breakdown that night. And now it’s right here.
In his hands. In it’s full, fluffy pink glory.
It’s perfect.
He has been making a little album, videos, photos, you name it. Of their little adventures. It won’t serve much purpose if he keeps it. Why keep it? If he could use it to weaken the enemy?
Ah, what he would pay to see their faces.
It won’t do much in terms of their plan, they are just gonna keep playing. Not like two hunters can do anything by themselves.
Well…
Maybe he shouldn’t poke the bear.
Who’s he kidding? The world’s ending soon. They will be royalty when they open the portal for Qwi-ma’s army. Jinu’s plan to put them at the top when it all burns down perfect in it’s simplicity.
Romance needs to be here when he hits send, that motherfucker needs a pick me up after dealing with their resident depressed leader, that man is wild when he wants head.
Oooooh, that reminds him…
————————————-
Zoey is severely dehydrated.
She can’t get up from the floor. And it’s cold.
It’s… midnight? 3 AM?
Who knows.
At least jack, turbo and rebel are here. The triplet turtles snug under her.
and Rumi’s phone.
The password was her and Mira’s birthdays. She was so sappy.
Her eyes burn, but she has no tears left.
And then, it buzzes.
What?
Bzzzz
Is she imagining it? Is Mira texting Rumi’s phone? She knows she has it.
Is it Celine? The press? Some weird fan?
Bzzzz
Her eyes open slowly, pulling apart as if they were glued.
It’s… her?
Her phone.
-Zoey 💚🐢: Hiiiiii! You must be so bored without your little Rumi around… :(
-Don’t worry! Here’s a little taste of her ;)
-From your dear rookies 🦁
-[attached.Album.Week1]
She presses play.
The blood in her veins freezes into shards. her hands are shaking. She’s choking, she can taste bleach, feel it melting her tongue. It burns, it burns- IT BURNS STOP MAKE IT STOP MIRA MAKE IT STOP RUMI-RUMI-
“Zoey?”
“Zoey, what's wrong?” She throws the phone away, she shouldn’t look. There’s- she’s-
Rumi, passed out, sweatpants pulled down to her knees- The same outfit she wore when she kneeled on the floor, collar stained with dark blood, dry.
Behind her, Jinu.
Holding her while he drives into her, the video shaky as whoever records it trembles, holding in laughter. The bed is filthy. Blood and bits of- of skin. Bruised a dark purple, every last bit of it. Her head lolls to the side.
Rumi, it’s just her face this time, being held by the hair while someone pushes her down onto their-
Rumi, head pressed down onto Abby’s bare stomach, forced to snort - oh fuck is that cocaine? They- they gave her-
Rumi, exhausted and terrified, body convulsing as the contents of her stomach spill on the floor.
Rumi, letting out whines and choked breaths while Jinu chops her braid off. The braid she wears in honor of her mom. Her eyes glazed, face expressionless.
Rumi- naked, arms and chest flayed all the way up to her throat-
Rumi- her Rumi- Rumi-
“ZOEY!”
Rumi.
The videos still play in the background.
“ZOEY.”
Rumi
“Zoey…”
Mira.
Her Mira.
“I’m right here… please come back to me.”
Mira’s here.
“We need to save Rumi, Zo.”
Rumi-
“We need to save her, and I know exactly how.”
_____________
Mystery brought home another girl.
If you ask Romance, this is bullshit.
Pardon him, he doesn’t usually swear. But to think the fans would like the man with the completely covered face more than his carefully sharpened sex appeal is preposterous.
Alas, at least he gets to watch.
It’s quite boring, the woman isn’t even getting proper stimulation, she’s simply being taken from behind as Mystery ruts like a dog.
Agh, these demons know nothing about making your lover tremble with want. It’s a delicate art. Meant for precise hands and careful teasing. It must be drawn out, built up.
Not… this.
It genuinely sounds like two strays doing it in an alley.
He gets up from his beloved stuffed chair, the cleanest object in the house. Dusting it needlessly. He better go find a better way to entertain himself for the night.
Ah, their little Rumi.
Thinking of it now, their Rumi very rarely indulges in any of them. He could change that. Can’t let Jinu get all the fun. She has quite the enticing body.
Such beautiful patterns, shame she despises them almost as much as she does herself.
He finds her cornered by Abby. His hulking form pressing her against the wall of the kitchen. An opened pack of… meth?
Ah, a fun night, then.
He feels bad to rip his Abby away from his plaything, but he takes priority after what he had to endure last time.
“Excuse me, love. Can I borrow our little darling for the night?”
Abby stills, though his muscles continue spasming.
Fine, but don’t say he didn’t try the diplomacy route first.
—————————
Romance is taking her away.
She’s glad, she’s so glad.
Abby was starting to scare her, but it’s okay! Romance is taking her away.
They’re heading to their room…
Why not her and Jinu’s?
It’s okay.
There are mice in the carpet
That’s okay! The problem is taking care of itself. The mice are eating each other.
Romance’s hand on her waist is warm.
There are sounds coming from the room.
Its… screaming.
Someone’s hurt? What’s happening?
Romance is calm, she should be calm, too.
Its smells like blood in here
That might be her.
Her eyes meet the scene unfolding before her.
Be calm, be calm.
And then, she hears it amongst the screams.
It comes from whoever’s on the bed.
The only words that register.
Pregnant. Gonna get you pregnant.
Pregnant. Pregnant like her mom.
(A baby crying, the howls of a dying woman, desperate to be saved instead of the child pulling her organs apart. The child, suckling in her blood.)
Another hybrid.
The woman below him is screaming, thrashing.
Pregnant.
No.
NO.
Take her away, take her away.
She can’t- won't let it happen. Not to another innocent.
Her claws extend before she can think. But her body gets held back.
She swipes them up with all the force she can muster as the world around her grows louder. Brighter, more dangerous.
She can’t see what she’s doing, looking for warm flesh to cling to, something or someone to pull. She just moves. Moves because if she stays still-
Her ears burn with the sound of baby’s cries.
Take her away, take her away. Now!
She can’t, they’re too strong.
Now. NOW!
Out of pure instinct, her body freezes,
And her mouth opens.
What happens after sends the entire house into chaos.
—————————-