End of the World (REWRITE)VMIN

Coffee With a Side of Danger

     Jimin didn't wake peacefully. He hadn't in a long time. Three years, to be exact. He woke up sweating and gasping for air. Every night, it was a mix of nightmares. Sometimes, he dreamt of the undead overtaking their camp and brutally killing everyone Jimin loved that was left.

     Sometimes, like tonight, he dreamt of dying himself. This time, it had been a mutated dog that ripped out his throat savagely. He'd been left to suffer alone, wheezing as blood poured out until he woke up. It had been abrupt, the way he blinked his eyes open, like someone had drenched him in ice water while he slept, jarring him from his bad dreams.

     Except no, no one had. Like every morning, he woke up alone. His room was quiet, par for some bugs that fluttered by, buzzing. He clamped his lips shut, licking them as he ran shaky fingers through his hair. It was soaked with sweat, but he was too distracted by the intense darkness to care.

     Slowly, he turned and threw his legs over the edge of the makeshift bed. It had been half broken when the group found the large suburban house to use for the week. The legs of the frame were cracked, and the mattress was old and smelly. But when he put on semi-clean sheets, which were really just gross from dust collected over time, it was bare able.

     Jimin stood, his legs quaking still from the dream, and he made his way to the door. He flicked on the light switch nearby as he went, before pressing his forehead against the doorframe. His eyes refused to shut; he was too scared of the dark right now to do that.

All around him, he heard thunder boom, nearly shaking the foundation of the house. He heard rain fall against the window of the master bedroom, and he sighed heavily. Jimin hated many things, rain included. Not just any kind either; the kind that brought storms and lightning.

Jimin pressed his lips together and turned around, his back resting against the wall next to the door. Looking past the window outside, Jimin saw it was still completely dark. There was no sign of the sun rising anytime soon, so he assumed it couldn't be anytime after 5am.

As he glanced to the Queen size bed, he dejectedly thought he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. However, there wasn't exactly tv to pass the time any longer, and he knew the others would most likely be asleep.

Jimin moved away from the wall, and he approached his bag that had been sitting on a nearby chair. It was old, the fabric torn, and it had been positioned near a mahogany bookshelf, clearly a reading chair. He opened his bag and reached in.

When his hand grazed something soft, he closed his fingers around it and pulled it out. The bear.

Jimin still hadn't managed to tell anyone about it. He didn't think he had to, anyways, but it was clearly concerning how he felt a need to keep it a secret. He frowned deeply and stared down at it.

His eyes kept drifting to the tag attached to its ear. His throat clogged up. Jimin knew it was unrealistic to hope the child- Stacy- would still be alive. She was apparently 4, or had just turned 4 technically.

Even if her parents were highly trained killers, eventually the undead would find a way to get to her. They always took what people loved most, after all. Like Hoseok's sister, like Namjoon's fiancé, and.. like Jimin's parents.

Jimin blinked quickly to rid his eyes of the tears that formed, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the stuffed bear. His hand was shaking from how hard he held it, but he didn't notice.

Suddenly, a soft knock ripped him from his thoughts. He let out a shuddered breath, set the bear gently back in the bag, and then faced the door as it opened slowly, almost hesitantly.