Lost Souls

Prologue

When Jimin opened his eyes again, he felt immense pain through his head, his chest, his ears, and all over his body. He reached for his temple, massaging it in an attempt to ease the discomfort. The sound of a garbage truck lifting its body to push out the contents caught his attention, when he finally noticed where he was, a landfill. 

'How did I end up here?'

He brushed off the pieces of trash coating his arms and legs, scrunching up his nose when the stinking scent reached it. He pushed his arm to the ground to raise himself up slowly, but surely. Vertigo took over his senses, making him stumble over a small pile of plastic waste. He winced with every step, pressing his palm to the bullet wound in his chest as a poor attempt to control the bleeding. He slowly walked out of the pungent-smelling site, struggling to keep his pace. The pain was unbearable, but he can't give up. He shouldn't.

A murder of crows flies over his head as he exited the landfill.

He walks into the first aid room of the field office, reaching for the gauze and antiseptic. He searches the room for anyone to help him cover up his wound, finding an agent who he recognised to be the one who joined recently.

"Hey! Newbie! Help me wrap my wound." Jimin yelled, only to find no response in return. "Hey! You!" He shouted out once more, but the young man continued his work, unfazed. Sighing in frustration, he walked towards him and waved his palm in front of his eyes, but the man continued to sort the supplies into the shelves. As a last resort, Jimin raised his arm to pat on his shoulder, but his eyes widened as his hand passed through his body as though it was air. He watched as his co-worker walked away, happily greeting his friend. Then it occured to him.

'Am I dead?'