Man in Black || myg

𝐗𝐋𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐃𝐢𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝

Park Soomi

The room was submerged in a sea of darkness, masquerading as a body of placid waters void of any life or movement. But if you ventured deeper, beyond the surface, there was nothing still nor calming about it.

I was drowning in that ocean, shivering from the cold, trembling from the fear. But I couldn't scream or let out even a squeak. Something pressed against my lips, sealing off the questioning and frantic thoughts.

And there were distant shouts, perhaps muffled in the ocean's depths. I needed to know what was happening, to understand those words.

To silence it.

I struggled to move towards the chaos, only now realizing I was being held back, unable to move as I freely wished. I squirmed, and I kicked, and I finally broke away, swimming towards the surface.

Running into the blinding light.

It was only then that the commotion ceased, and the screams dissipated, yet I wasn't at ease. Instead, my mind drew a blank, a frightening stillness.

Because all I could see was that image of a bloody hand, with that crimson liquid cascading down the shards of a forest green bottle.

I woke up with an unknown object blanketing my face. Feeling groggy, I clumsily grabbed the item with uncoordinated hands, quickly realizing it was my journal. It soon came rushing back to me: the hours spent agonizing over the contents of its pages.

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stay away, especially not after recent discoveries. It felt like it was in arm's reach, the memories of that night, the events that followed the shattered bottle, and yet any attempts at grasping it proved futile. But I kept gravitating towards these dreams, now with unsubstantiated suspicions that they arose from my repressed subconscious.

"Soomi, are you up?" Jimin's voice came from outside the room. My attention quickly shifted to the door as I responded to him. Soon after, he cracked open the door. "Have you seen my navy hoodie? The one I like?"

"Ugh, this is why I tell you not to leave things lying around the living room. I think I probably washed it with the other laundry."

"Gotcha. Thanks!"

"Why are you packing so last minute anyway?" I groaned in annoyance, knowing he wouldn't respond anyway. But now that I was left alone, the silence beckoned my true worries to crawl out.

Jimin was actually leaving, to some foreign place with no protection from the monstrous dangers lurking in the shadows.

But I can't prove that those monsters exist, that the dangers remain.

My ears perked up, hearing someone's presence at the front door. I bounced out of bed, making quick strides towards the door, knowing exactly who I'd find behind it.

"Tell me you found something. I'm not crazy, right? Jimin shouldn't be off on his own right now?" The words spewed out as I answered the door.

"You're not crazy," Yoongi responded, and an unusually dissonant mix of relief and dread consumed me. But the intensity of that feeling was short-lived. "But, I didn't find anything of note."

"That impossible." My dumbfounded voice began grasping at straws. "This all has to mean something! The man killed someone because of my dad. But you're saying he's not involved in any of this? That he doesn't know anything about Jimin's brother."

"That's the strange part: that I didn't find anything. The visit, all the digging I've done on the guy, it all seems too...perfect. There were no red flags, and that in itself strikes me as one."