{[JOONGDOK/ORV]} Perpetual Madness

Part 2, Chapter 4

Kim Dokja PoV:

 

Ever since he barged in the other night, Yoo Joonghyuk has been following me around like a lost puppy. Why? I’m actually not quite sure, because I’m too tired and mentally stressed to actually activate Omniscient Reader and find out for myself.

I’m also having a hard time in telling the difference between him being honry, angry or emotionally constipated- if not a weird mix of all three, because the bastard’s face might as well be made of the same marble from whatever Greek god’s statue he stole his appearance from.

The resting bitch face is a constant.

What surprised me the most, however, had to be the others seemingly following his example, like little baby ducks wandering after their mother. 

Lee Hyunsung has been offering to help me train, the kids are piling extra food onto my plates and, god forbid, Yoo Sangah and Jung Heewon made a collective effort to drag me out for some ice cream and a drink the other night, while Han Sooyoung even offered one of her sacred lemon candies. 

Why am I getting all of this special treatment? Am I dying?

As much as I appreciated the thoughts, however, none of this topped the priority of my current position. 

The crystal on my hand has changed. It’s bigger, now, the colour seemingly melting into my skin- the parts it touches growing thicker, feeling almost like leather. I frown, rubbing weakly at the substance- some of it crumbles and flakes off, but it stings, as if it's still skin. 

There’s an odd feeling in my chest, too, almost as though there’s a hand tightening around my heart. Thin and bony, nails digging into the tender flesh and letting its juices spill all over my ribs, digging, scraping, searching, but for what? I am not sure.

My wings feel heavier, too- the feathers thicker, darker, but also fluffier- as though their health is feeding directly in the pain flecked through my chest like the distant stars.

As least they’re comfortable , I sigh, now curling into a bal, as if it'll bring me comfort. Something ghosts over the skin under my cloak, an invisible hand carding through my hair. I back away, bringing the feathers a little closer. I will admit that the little cocoon I’ve formed helps with the shivers of cold still raking through my body, and it does feel slightly less lonely, but…

I miss the fourth wall.

To think that I'd relied on it so much was proof to my weakness. I'm even weaker to mental attacks than Yoo Joonghyuk, now- and come to think of it, he could use Eye of the sage on me, if he so tried. Rip me open all over again, and grind the pieces left into sand. I shiver at the thought.

The room suddenly grows a little colder.

[Ki m  d okja   is  a   cow  ard.]

I freeze. What? That creepy, familiar voice scrapes through my brain, something akin to an ancient whisper.

Surely, it belongs to a being much older than the constellations themselves? 

[He can not   d eny  it]

The deep, uncanny sound echoes, almost like a growl from the end of an abandoned cathedral, the sound reverberating through every crevice of my body; and I, the delicate windows of  stained glass in that very same ruin, with mottled shades of red and black strewn with thousands of cracks, threaten to shatter at any moment. The only whisper of support remaining over my soul is taken as the cobwebs draped heavily over each pattern, distorting the shape much like the stories I love had with my own personality. 

[The re  a re  fear s.]

[O nes   the  sce nario  didn t    e ven  k now]

Something cracks,

[One s   e ven  K im  Dok ja  do esn t   k now]

A hand grips at the base of my neck, thick and dark, seemingly melting from the shadowy form of my own wings, "You-!"

[ fea rs  we  c ann ot   de fine]

The fingers feel like ice, every minute hint of that pain from before suddenly spiking through my body, shredding me, meeting at the point of that damned palm as it shifts and tightens against the pounding rhythm of my pulse under it's grasp. I can't even hear my own scream.

[Yo u   l ike  t o   kn ow  th in gs]

[Figu re  i t   o ut]

The hand tightens, the frost now coating my skin cracking under the pressure as blood pools under my swollen tongue,

[Endure.]