Nadir ◈ Seungjin

48 ◈ Absolute Freedom

Forewarning: auiuuu%??????¿??? Idk what to tag it as but shit's going down, some manipulation, some coercion, a shirt gets ripped, another forced kiss, some threats, yk.

Few reminders:

- This is NOT a romanticization of anything you see, oh my god these bitches are not romantic they are FUCKED UP AND SCARY!!!! Red flags!!! Red flags everywhere!!! 

-Writing hyunsung even makes me get the icks. They make me uncomfortable. Last chapter and this chapter, their behavior scares and disgusts me.

-There is still a good ending for Seungmin

-This story is technically horror/psychological horror. That is the genre. We are going to stay in the genre.

Seungmin sat up off the mattress.

Legs kicked over the ledge his throbbing headache threatened to throw him into. A pit, akin to a grave he would willingly sink his painful body into. Aching. Every bit of him ached; Pounding in his head reeling while his blood adjusted to the upright position; The blotches of deep indigo no doubt dotted beneath his clothes along his breaking bones;  Sandpaper in his eyes scanning over the dark of the blacked out hotel room, the faint dusk from outside filtering in. Touching down on his bruised hands steadying himself against the comforters as they clutched down to the fabric. Trembling muscles, their weakened fibers goo underneath his skin. Sludge. Blackened muck he had to wade through to arrive anywhere in his body, in his mind. Painstakingly. Bit by bit, forcing himself to cooperate as he fixated on a part of the wall ahead of him.

Blankly.

The void of thoughts in his rocking head causing him to ease to the dim of the hotel room.

First looking to that pinpoint on the wall. A scuff mark from past residents.

Then to the leather coat by his side. Hyunjin's. Hyunjin's leather coat, he must have put it on Seungmin while he was asleep. The human grabbed the coat and slipped it on. Watching as that faux midnight concealed the goosebumps shivering through his chilled body. The outlet of the sleeves, slow in their eclipse of the bruises on his knuckles, the twitching needles stabbed through his fingers. Slow in the consumption of his white button up, marked with congested dust, dirt, grime, concealing the purity of those feathered colors before they began to fray. Seungmin knew as soon as he saw the black against his pale skin, he looked like a corpse. The walking, breathing dead which roamed the nighttime landscapes, he was the same.

They were all the same.

And his head...

Seungmin groaned, wincing as he tried to hold it steady within his hands.

His head kept pounding.

Aching.

Can't he do anything more than that? Than be stuck, time and time again, in a cage of his own pained misery. Hasn't he had enough? Hasn't his body had enough? If it hadn't, why? How much more would he need to take before the cut nerves and vacancy hollowing him to hallowed property of a monster within, how much more would it take before he would be set free? How much more could he take? How much more did he want to take? Where was he supposed to go from here? Where did he go, now that he stood alone in the dark, isolated from anyone who may reach out to catch him in the dark, now that he knew there was no one he could trust? There was no one in this world he could rely on. Not those four vampires, not the two monsters who claimed him to be an asset to their lives, was that all he was? An asset?