dolls | ateez

ೃ⁀➷ one

unedited

Scratch that, Jongho was prepared for everything but that.

Dumbfounded, Jongho stilled on his climb up the attic ladder, causing San to bump his head right up his ass, leaving a grey imprint of his face on the black sweats jongho wore. They were covered head to toe in a layer of flakey ash, courtesy of San, who decided that tugging off the wooden boards that covered the ancient fireplace was a good idea.

News flash, it obviously wasn't. Years of built-up ash and dust immediately came flushing down the old chimney and right onto their faces, well, just San's. Jongho had his head flung back and merely laughed at him the whole time.

San hissed loudly as he backed down to the carpeted floor with a scowl on his dusty grey face.

"What's with the hold up? We need to be done before sun down," he asked.

"I- there, the— what." Jongho could only splutter when he turned back, glancing at his brother with a perplexed expression. His lips parted but no coherent words form from them.

"Dude, this place is definitely haunted."

"What do you mean by that?" San rolled his eyes in annoyance as he leant against the creaking banister, clicking his tongue when he realised Jongho had made no intention to enter the attic.

"Move, I'll go up instead."

As he began to descend, Jongho scoffed at him while carefully placing his foot on each faded-cream carpeted step.

"I bet you'd cry the moment you see it," Jongho remarked, sticking his tongue out at his older brother, who shoved his shoulder in return.

"See what?" San replied cockily, already ascending the ladder with ease(and cockiness overflowing from his massive ego, as Jongho would've said).

Right before he reached for the last rung, San suddenly stilled, glancing back at his younger brother, who was looking back at him with a sceptical expression. San hesitated for a moment before looking up into the dark abyss of their attic.

Whatever Jongho had mentioned earlier had got to him and whether it spooked San or not, he'd take that information to his grave and never admit it out loud.

But alas, all things have their end. San huffed loudly as he succumbed to his fate of pretending to be the courageous older brother.

"Stupid toxic masculine ego," he muttered to himself.

At least he's self aware, Jongho thought.

"What did you say?!"

Realising that he did indeed just say that out loud, Jongho immediately clapped back with a "Wuss!" before San growled at him loudly, pulling up his socks and finally poked his head through the hole in the ceiling.

It took a second to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, the only light filtering in from between the wooden planks that had blocked the dormer.

The attic was mostly empty, save for a couple of huge cobwebs nestling perfectly in the corners of the wooden beams and the stack of what looked like rotting cardboard boxes labelled "storage" with big bold words across them.

"Geez, there's nothing here!" San called out after taking a good scan of the place. Nothing seemed out of place, that was until his eyes trailed further towards the right side, stumbling upon a huge lump of bundled white cloth.. "Just a buncha..."

His eyes immediately widened like saucers.

"Could you take a closer look?" Jongho snickered in victory when he noticed his brother stalling, lips trembling as he spluttered about. He swore he saw the fabric twitch by barely an inch, face immediately paling.

"T-there...um. Oh hell no," before he was racing down the ladder, skipping the last two steps as he opted to jump off instead and landed on the carpet with a loud thud.

San shoved Jongho by the shoulder. His hair was a mess and his lips were bitten red. "Nah, you can't do this to me man, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Told you that shit was haunted," Jongho shrugged as he tried to shove his brother back.

However, San scrambled away, dodging the attack but it sent a poor Jongho hurtling towards the main staircase instead, screaming.

Jongho regained his balance at the last moment, clutching onto the banister, just seconds before rolling to his death down the hard stairs.

Unfortunately for him, his brother made his grand escape down the long hallway, getting lost in rooms that they didn't know were connected.

"Get back here!" Jongho screamed. Their petty pushing fight should continue, what use of a 'egotistic older brother' would San be if he didn't fight back?

San choked on his spit when he heard the echos of Jongho's loud voice ringing throughout the house, skipping into a room on the far left after he turned a corner, nearly slipping on the smooth planked flooring.

The stomps of Jongho's feet were heavy enough to rattle the old walls but he slammed the doorshut, trapping himself in the room and away from the hands of his scary younger brother.

"San YOU BITCH. COME BACK HERE!!"

"NO!" He cried back, locking the ancient door by turning the rusted metal key in its place, tugging it out and flinging it across the room in a frenzy. His fingers flew to his mouth(old habits die hard) as he began biting at the skin around his nails, all while pacing around the room, fearing for his life as Jongho's thuds resonated throughout the tiny room.

It was only then that San noticed the state of the room he was in. To put it simply, it was down right terrible.

Tattered wallpaper, faded pink and white strips with dirty daffodils were peeling off the walls, thick cobwebs yet again lining the ceiling coves and mysterious yellow stains running down the sides. A smashed window with shards decorating the floor underneath on the west wall of the door, the opposite side—broken blinds, with multiple slats barely hanging onto its strings.

In the center of the room, stood a 4'ft tall doll house with two movable adjacent open concepts, revealing what seemed like two floors of a house and a triangular attic, each room adorned with specific furniture and items to show each room's designated functions.

Covered in a thick layer of dust(like San's ashy face), the doll house still stood with glory and grace, as if unfazed by years of built-up and abuse it withstood from its previous owners.

The layout of the doll house was suspiciously familiar to him, but he paid no mind to it, eyes completely zoned onto the thing that stood out to him like a sore thumb.

The two shiny, porcelain dolls, lying limp against each other and dressed in layers of silks, satin and laces. Shoved haphazardly as if the one who played them last was in a rush, leaving no room to let the dolls 'rest' peacefully in their so-called home.

The cursive words 'Yeosang' and 'Wooyoung', that was plastered on a tiny wooden sign at the top of the dollhouse, burned into San's eyes. He stood there, unmoving, as if there was a force pulling him to stay there against his will.

Goosebumps had erupted across his arms and trailed up to his neck, a looming feeling washed over as he couldn't move an inch, much less a finger, nor his eyes. A phantom scream echoed throughout his ears and he immediately started breaking out in cold sweat in panic. Unable to blink, to just merely close his eyes in any attempt to bring himself just a small bit of comfort and security.

San couldn't think, his mind completely blank.

He was scared.

That was until the door behind him busted open with a loud slam and Jongho's voice, that used to sound so annoying like a relentless mosquito, had finally brought him the yearning contact he never knew he needed so much in that short moment.

"San-hyung!" Like a silent echo, that was all he needed before the lights went out.