【A Composer's Heart || Seongjoong】

O'Death Never Comes Near | CHAP 4

Mentions of SH, attempted hanging. 

10 YEARS LATER 1720, January 3rd (Now most of the story will take place in this year.) 

The Battle of Freedom.
--
The song of death began it's long chorale upon Hongjoong, the shackle of chains beautifully scrapped it's haunting melodies, the very last song that many men heard before they saw the sunlight for the finally time. 

Voices and whispers filled the prison, steady breathing, as the british imperial officers shoes made their entrance loud, as if they were god walking, taking someone's life today, a poor soul would be no more. 

They grumbled and spoke in their foreign English language, harsh european accents raptured from their dry throats, the voices of apathy and death, their red coats as red the devil's eyes, their pale blue eyes and white hair held no emotion, no color, except nothingness. 

Hongjoong sat in the corner of his cell, he no longer was the healthy boy he once was, skin and bones, he remembers that night as clear as night, the first night of this unholy hell he formed himself in.. 

(FLASHBACK TO THE LAST CHAPTER.)

He called out to Seonghwa, as the bare outline of his body began to fade into the very early morning.

And Hongjoong, felt nothing but betrayal and rage.

He felt heartbroken.

But most importantly he felt his soul got ripped out of his body, when he saw his papa's eyes, watering at the sight of his own son, being nothing with the british guard. 

There was sickness in his eyes, it was more obvious, his soul ached to be released, his trembling lips, his rough hand gently reaching out to Hongjoong from afar, whispering words, words that Hongjoong never picked up on, that he wished he did. 

His papa was going to leave this sick earth tonight, and Hongjoong would never tell him goodbye, he burned down the governors house, but he burnt his mere soul into nothing except darkness and ashes. 

He watched the old man fall to his knees reaching out for Hongjoong, perhaps asking for forgiveness? maybe he wished that he did better? Hongjoong could see his face tightened as if he was gasping for breath,  but as he took his final breath, he gracefully landed on the muddy dirt and never got back up. 

The scream that erupted from Hongjoong's vocals was more than gross and devilish, it was pure evil, heart shattering, that type of scream that kills a man.

He tried to fight and run, but he was just a mere boy, his whole purpose of life quite literally vanished right in front of him, he no longer had a family he could call his, he was nobody now, forever just a stranger, and not a lover, or a child, or at least somebody, he didn't belong to anyone now

The ocean's heard his wrath that night, as the british officers dragged to him to jail and harshly threw him into a cell, his back getting the wall, Hongjoong wished he could speak their tongue, but he did not. 

As he sild down the jail wall into the dark corner, tears left his eyes, he was only 16, he had so much life, at least he thought he did, he didn't what to feel or how even describe them in the first time, but afar he could hear the ocean's tempest, the goddess was not happy, but at least she is with more of her sons now, "

"may the sprit's guide papa to peace" Were the very words Hongjoong repeated, what it seemed a billion times over, trying to feel better.

There was nothing but darkness in that jail cell, and the very darkness would fill him, making it's home inside of him, the emptiness, the sickening, as he balled himself up into the wall, on the cold stone, he shook and shake by own his tears in the dark. 

One moment he had everything, a family, a job, a purpose, he wasn't just a person, but someone who was worth fighting and loving for, why did he so easily trust that damn thief?!

Yes, he didn't wanna grow up so fast, he wanted to have his life, either his boring life as a fisherman's son, he wanted to be like the teenagers, experiencing teen love, finding their 'calling' becoming who they were meant to be. 

Was he just that eager? no, he was just that stupid.

Perhaps he saw a friend in those pale blue eyes, the very eyes he couldn't seem to get off his mind, no matter how hard he tried, they just kept appearing every single time he was fortunate enough to close his eyes and rest in the dark empty place. 

But once he saw those very pale blue eyes hurry off in the dead of night without looking back, no empthy, nothing, Hongjoong knew he wasn't a friend, he wasn't close to being one, Seonghwa seemed so bright, there was just something about him that captured Hongjoong's attention about him. 

But now, he was a stranger, even Seonghwa didn't give him any care, he could've said no, he should've left Seonghwa alone the moment he saw the bad luck that was in him. 

Oh god... his mom.. 

How was his mom doing? she just lost a husband and a son, would Hongjoong ever see her again either? probably not, Hongjoong couldn't have dealt with the guilt or shame of looking into her eyes and feeling like a burned out light that was completely useless, if he wasn't so fucking stupid, perhaps they could've been a family again. 

He was ushered out of his mind thoughts, when he felt the rough touch of someone's hand. 

The moonlight now piercing through the small iron bars on the very top, 

"Yer must be new?" 

Hongjoong heard that accent before, that deep ocean accent, the accent that spoke about the seas directly  the one of his father's. 

Hongjoong freezed, he couldn't tell if the voice was passive or not. 

"Im Yunho, nice to meet ya." 

Hongjoong then rolled over, a figure barely visible stood in front of him, tall, bulit, wide, and what hongjoong could make, handsome.