Nadir ◈ Seungjin

22 ◈ An Opposition

The door shook again.

Jisung smiled weakly, "Whoops."

"Jisung!" Hyunjin shot from the seat, nearly knocking the locked up Seungmin back onto the table as he tried to worm himself free from the cramped position they were locked in. He hissed beneath the vibrations of the bass seeping through the floor, "Why did you come find us? You brought him to us!"

The knob shifted again.

Seungmin's eyes fell down to the handle, rattling beneath the other's hand. Trying to break free from the lock holding it in place.

Slowly, his heart began to pulse.

And a cold sweat built up on the nape of his neck.

What do we do?

Nowhere to hide. The private room was nothing but bench seating lining the walls and an empty table. Their only hope being, the Mimic giving up the chase and wandering off. Or the cold metal on his waist.

But could he?

As his fingers twitched against the top of the table, his heart trembled. Telling him gently,

'No'.

No, I can't do it.

He swallowed back the lump building in his throat as he watched that doorknob begging to turn against the shaking hold.

"I am not dealing with this furry's creepy ass bullshit alone. Do you know how creepy this motherfucker is? Do you know how fucking creepy it is to be followed down the hallways?" Jisung's voice cut in through the ringing of his ears. Sharp, fast. Panicked, if that was possible for him to be. Afraid in the height of the time sitting at the top of his throat and the tip of his tongue wishing to press off an escape. Shuffling, Seungmin heard them both shuffling in the clustered space of the private room, but his eyes wouldn't move to their sources. Only to the gleam of the silver doorknob beneath a hand. Only the threat waiting on the other side as Jisung choked bitterly, "If I'm dying, one of you are dying with me."

And the amused response from Hyunjin of, "Oh, great reasoning, dickhead. But where's Minho? Wasn't he with you?"

Jisung hissed, "I thought he was with you two?" 

"No? Since when?"

On shaky legs, Seungmin stood up from the edge of the table.

Listening to the pounding of his own heart. The hits of his own footsteps against the flooring. The trembling of his own fingers lingering over his waist. His revolver.

Begging for the strength to wield it's bullets and pull the hammer back. The revolver by his hip he always relied on, those imaginary triggers tugged when he walked the halls of the academy.

Begging for his heart to calm down as it roared to his ears. Screaming to get away. From the room. From the killer waiting on the other side. A formless shadow. A shapeless silhouette of a creature leeching souls from it's victims. He had to run. Run, run, far, far away from where he stood. From the monsters he was trapped inside with. Knowing neither of them were there to help him. Neither of them were reliable. Neither of them would help him if he was in danger. If the Mimic caught him and the pulsing of his heart a steady beat against his chest. He couldn't count on them. He had to save himself. He had to protect himself.

I have to.

Seungmin lifted the edge of the tucked shirt. Subtly reaching for the revolver by his waist.

Listening as his heart pulsed.

As he watched the thin crack beneath the door. It's light disrupted by a figure standing in front of the threshold.