Felix Centric One Shots

Echos of Forever (Hyunlix)

"Bound by a curse, freed by love—can a ghost find his way back to life?"

The van creaked to a halt at the entrance of the overgrown estate. The imposing silhouette of the mansion loomed ahead, its cracked windows reflecting the dim moonlight. The Stray Kids members spilled out of the vehicle, their laughter and chatter masking the faint unease creeping into their hearts.

"Alright, boys," Chan said, gripping a flashlight and addressing the group. "The staff dared us to spend the night here. No chickening out."

Minho scoffed, brushing past him. "It's just an old house. What's the worst that could happen? Ghosts aren't real."

"Bold words for someone who refused to watch The Conjuring last week," Jisung teased, earning a glare.

"Guys, can we focus?" Seungmin adjusted the straps of his backpack, his calm voice cutting through the banter. "Let's just survive the night without anyone running off screaming."

"I don't scream," Changbin declared. "I strategize."

Jeongin smirked, tilting his head. "Strategize? Is that what you were doing when you dove under the couch during Train to Busan?"

"Jeongin, focus," Chan said, rolling his eyes. "The faster we explore, the faster we can sit somewhere and relax."

The group made their way up the creaky steps of the mansion's front porch. Hyunjin trailed behind, eyeing the vines snaking up the walls and the faint chill in the air. There was something almost... magnetic about the place.

As Chan pushed open the massive wooden door, it groaned loudly, echoing through the cavernous entryway. Dust motes danced in the beam of his flashlight. The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

"Alright," Chan said, his voice breaking the silence, "we stick together. No splitting up."

"Yeah, because that always works in horror movies," Jisung muttered.

Minho let out a low whistle, his eyes scanning the ornate yet decaying interior. "This place must've been something back in its day. Look at those chandeliers."

"It's creepy," Jeongin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like... you can feel someone watching."

As if on cue, the temperature in the room dropped. Everyone paused, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Did... anyone else feel that?" Changbin asked, his bravado faltering.

"It's just old and drafty," Minho said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence.

Then came the sound—a soft, melodic humming, distant but growing closer. Hyunjin froze, his pulse quickening.

"Okay, who's doing that?" Jisung asked nervously, his eyes darting around the room.

"No one," Seungmin said, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter. "We're all here."

The humming stopped abruptly, and a figure appeared at the top of the grand staircase. A young man, his long blond hair cascading over his shoulders, stood there. His freckled face was strikingly beautiful, but his honey-brown eyes seemed haunted, carrying centuries of sadness. He wore a pale, tattered shirt and pants that looked like they belonged to another era.

"Hello?" Chan called out hesitantly, stepping forward.

The figure tilted his head, his lips curving into a gentle but sad smile. "You shouldn't be here," he said softly, his voice carrying through the room like a breeze.

Everyone froze, their breaths caught in their throats.

"W-Who are you?" Hyunjin asked, his voice shaking slightly.