Villain kids

8

Jisung: “Are you sure this is going to work?”
His whisper breaks the heavy silence echoing through the museum halls.
Chenle just rolls his eyes. “We have to get past the guard first, so no—I’m not sure. One cursed step at a time, please.”

Hyuck: “He has a point. If we get caught, we’re toast. No more kids from the Isle, ever.”

Chenle: “Relax. That’s why Jaemin and I are here—we’re your distraction. If anyone sees anyone, it’ll be us first.”

They exchange uneasy nods before creeping deeper into the museum.
Up ahead, the guard sits half-awake, eyes sluggishly scanning security footage. He isn’t asleep, but exhaustion clings to him like fog.

Hyuck steps forward, voice soft and melodic:
“Good night, little one, the thorn is calling... Let it take control, asleep you’re falling.”

The effect is instant. The guard slumps in his chair, snoring gently.
Jeno: “Shit, Hyuck. You didn’t tell us you could do that.”

Hyuck: “Sleeping spells are in our blood. Even if I didn’t get powers, Mom said the song would still work—if they’re tired or lying down.”
He rushes his words, clearly not used to this level of attention, and everyone stares at him, mouths agape.

Jisung: “Alright, let's move before he wakes up.”

They hurry up the staircase, breath tight, lungs burning. Their goal lies at the top.
Jeno: “It has to be close. I can feel it.”
Hyuck: “Yeah...something’s calling. Let’s go.”

At the far end of the top floor, they find it—
A room packed with cursed relics and glittering, dangerous power.
But none of it captures their attention like the wax figures standing tall and cold behind the glass.

Their parents. Immortalized. Paralyzed. Displayed like trophies.

Jisung: “I can’t believe this...”
Sungchan: “Our parents aren’t props.”

Jeno’s rage simmers to a boil.
“They lock us on that rotting Isle, then trap our parents in wax like they’re bedtime stories—like they’re not living, breathing, misunderstood people! We’re not just characters in their fairy tale!”
His voice is low, rough, laced with fury. The air trembles around him.

Jaemin: “Got that on camera, by the way... super hot.”
Everyone freezes.

Two Oredon kids—watching. Laughing. Smirking.

Jeno whirls on them: “Is this a fucking joke to you? Are your parents wax figures? Do people tell bedtime stories about your family like they’re monsters?!”
He lunges, but Jisung catches him, surprisingly steady.

Jisung: “He didn’t mean it like that. We don’t have time for this. Let’s get what we came for.”

Jeno exhales shakily, nods, and turns to his father’s figure.

Hyuck: “Jeno, grab the lamp and staff—bring them here.”

He does. One by one, the others gather their parents' relics.
Hyuck retrieves Maleficent’s staff and spellbook. He flips through the pages. The wind stirs.

Hyuck: “Found it! Okay—what’ve we got?”

Sungchan holds a cracked mirror and a half-eaten apple.
Jisung has a silver cigarette holder and a razor-edged pocket knife.

Hyuck chants slowly, power thrumming in his voice:
“That which is one now becomes two.
That which is two forever will be.
That which will be shall appear to you.”

A flash. The relics shimmer—then duplicate.
Two piles. One to keep, one to leave behind.

Chenle: “Perfect. Swap them and let’s go!”

They move fast, placing the copies back in their exact spots.
Just as they’re about to leave—

Hyuck: “Jeno? What are you doing?”

Jeno stands frozen, bathed in eerie light, his body humming with newfound power.

Jaemin: “Jeno, don’t. You’re not your father. Please.”
He steps closer, slow and careful.

Jisung: “We need you, man. C’mon.”

Jeno: “I could destroy this place right now.”

Hyuck: “If you do, we lose our chance at the wand.”

Chenle: “Wait—the Fairy Godmother’s wand?”
Everyone tenses.

Jaemin: “You didn’t say anything about that.”
His tone turns sharp.

Hyuck: “You wanted to help. Well, this is the plan. The wand makes everything... perfect.”

Sungchan: “You said you wanted to ruin this place. Did you not expect this part?”

Tension spikes.
Donghyuck’s eyes glow bright green, his voice cold and slow:

Chenle: “The wand is dangerous.”
Hyuck: “So are we.”
Jaemin: “It’ll be hard to get.”
Jeno: “We’ll make it happen.”

Jaemin smirks: “You sure, hot stuff? You’re vibrating like you’re about to blow. And I like my face exactly where it is.”

Jeno storms forward—
Jaemin backs into a wall, startled and half-laughing.

Jeno: “I’m sure.”

Jaemin, smiling now: “Kiss me then.”

And Jeno does.

The kiss is fire—fast, messy, full of want.
They break apart, breathless, flushed.

Jisung: “…Well then.”
Hyuck: “Uhm…”

The group stands in stunned silence.
No more words needed. They turn and slip away, hearts pounding, minds racing.

Not because they have to.

But because something just changed.