𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 | ʙᴛs ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇs

-Echoes Of The Marionette-

"Strings never break, only loosen. And when they tighten again, you dance, whether you want to or not."

♛

- YOONGI

The candlelight wavered, its flickering glow breathing life into the hollow faces around me. They hung in silent anticipation, their porcelain skin catching the dim light, their painted lips frozen in secretive smiles. Motionless. Beautiful. Mine.

I traced my fingers over the delicate cheek of my newest creation, feeling the smooth, cool surface beneath my touch. Perfectly preserved. Not a single flaw.

The villagers feared me. They spun foolish rumors about my art, whispering of souls trapped within my marionettes, of bodies vanishing into the depths of my workshop. But they didn't understand. I was not cruel. I was not a monster.

I was simply... a creator.

A sharp knock echoed through the room, breaking the sacred silence. I didn't flinch. My fingers stilled over the marionette's fragile hand.

A pause. Then, another knock, firmer this time.

I turned, expression unreadable. Visitors were rare. Unwanted. But fate had a way of leading lost souls to me, weaving them into my masterpiece. And tonight, three new puppets had arrived at my door.

.
.
.

- JIMIN

"We shouldn't be here."

The words left my lips in a whisper, swallowed instantly by the thick, suffocating silence of the village. The air was too still. The streets too empty. A place abandoned not by chance, but by choice. A place people fled from.

Yet here we were, standing before the ominous wooden door of Min Yoongi's workshop. A crude sign creaked above us, swinging lazily with the wind. Min Yoongi. Puppeteer. And beneath it, almost faded but still chillingly clear:

"The Final Performance Awaits You."

A shiver crawled down my spine. Something felt wrong. So, so wrong.

"Jungkook, let's just go," I urged, but he ignored me, lifting a hand to knock again.

The sound echoed unnaturally, as if the walls themselves swallowed it.

The door creaked open on its own. No one stood behind it.

Just a gaping void of darkness. And a faint scent that sent ice rushing through my veins.

Blood.

...

The first thing I noticed was the sheer number of them.

Marionettes. Hanging in rows, their strings tangled like severed veins. Their faces, so eerily life-like, watched us with hollow, soulless eyes. The candlelight flickered against them, casting elongated shadows on the walls, making it seem as if they were swaying.

Or breathing.

I forced myself to swallow, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"These..." Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible. "They look so real"

He reached out, fingertips brushing against one of the figures.

A sudden creak.

The puppet's head tilted.

I felt my blood freeze. My breath hitched, a cold terror spreading through my limbs like poison.

Did I imagine that? No-Taehyung saw it too. His grip tightened around my wrist, fingers like iron, his entire body tense.