Demonic || Seventeen

Demonic 7

Seokmin jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. The nightmare clung to him like a thick fog, the images still fresh and vivid in his mind. He had been back in the village, standing in the middle of the chaos as the Demonic tore through the streets. The screams of his family rang in his ears, their terrified faces etched into his memory. He had watched, helpless, as the monstrous creatures ripped through the village-his home-destroying everything he held dear. His mother, his father, his sister... all lost in a blur of violence and blood, while Seokmin stood paralyzed, unable to save them.

He sat up quickly, gasping for air, his chest tight with fear and grief. His hands were trembling, and his head felt heavy with the weight of the memories. The nightmare was over, but the pain felt real, as if he were still living through it. Seokmin buried his face in his hands, trying to push the images away, but they lingered, making his breath come in shallow, uneven gasps. The familiar ache of loss gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving.

His body was tense, his muscles still coiled from the dream, as if he had been running in his sleep. The sound of shouts outside the tent slowly brought him back to the present, grounding him in the reality of the camp. They weren't panicked screams like those in his dream-these were the sharp, authoritative commands of the lieutenants, urging the recruits through morning drills. Seokmin could hear the rhythmic pounding of footsteps as they ran on the field, the distant echoes of their labored breathing mixing with the occasional barked order.

Seokmin blinked, trying to focus, and slowly turned his head. His gaze fell on the figure lying in the cot beside him-Minghao, still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. Unlike Seokmin, Minghao seemed undisturbed, lost in a deep slumber. The quiet in the tent felt oddly comforting in contrast to the chaos outside.

Seokmin sighed and rubbed his eyes. His friends-Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Hansol-were nowhere to be seen, likely already out on the field with the other recruits. The familiar dull ache in his leg from the sprain reminded him that he wouldn't be joining them anytime soon. He hated feeling weak, hated that he couldn't be out there training with his friends, hated that even now, after everything, he still felt powerless.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly as his foot touched the cold ground. His back still ached from where he had fallen the day before, and his bandaged hand throbbed lightly. Gritting his teeth, Seokmin tried to stand, determined to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. But just as he started to move, the flap of the tent opened.

Joshua entered, his usual calm demeanor intact, though his eyes quickly scanned the room, taking note of Seokmin's attempts to get up. Walking beside him was an assistant Seokmin didn't recognize, a younger boy who carried a tray of medical supplies. Joshua's sharp gaze settled on Seokmin, and he raised an eyebrow in mild disapproval.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Joshua asked, his tone light but firm as he approached Seokmin's bed.

Seokmin froze for a moment, caught in the act. "I-I was just... trying to get outside," he stammered, his voice still shaky from the nightmare.

Joshua sighed, placing the tray of supplies down on a nearby table. "You're not ready to be moving around yet, especially not after what happened yesterday. Your leg needs more rest." He gestured toward the cot. "Sit back down."

Reluctantly, Seokmin obeyed, lowering himself back onto the bed. His body protested the movement, every muscle sore from the previous day's injuries.

Joshua glanced over at the still-sleeping Minghao before sitting down on the edge of Seokmin's bed. His usual cheerful expression was softer now, more concerned as he looked at the younger boy. "How are you feeling? You looked pretty out of it when I came in."