the tragic story of taehyung, who is faced with a dire dilemma: to support his father lucifer's apocalyptic plans to rid the world of humanity or to abandon this realm for his home in heaven.
/ ongoing (heavily editing.)
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With the hurricane's fury rattling the windows behind me, I couldn't help but gaze around my room in disbelief.
My eyes fell to the floor where he had stood just moments ago. The mahogany had darkened to a rich, unnatural black, and the sear marks were glaringly evident. A cough escaped me as I stared, the steam from the burnt wood rising to meet my nose.
He literally vanished.
A sudden explosion of thunder snapped me out of my daze. The lights flickered once, twice, and then plunged the room into darkness. "Shit," I muttered under my breath.
Guided by the faint, stormy light seeping through the window, I made my way to my dresser, scrabbling inside one of the drawers. "Where did I put that flashlight?" I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
"You won't be needing that."
His voice, unexpected and unwelcome, spun me around. There he was, materializing out of the shadows with that unsettling grin and a flame dancing on his fingertip.
My heart raced as I instinctively retreated, bumping against the dresser.
"I suppose I didn't introduce myself properly," he said, reaching out toward me.
Acting on impulse, I slapped his hand away. A jolt of pain shot through my fingers from the touch, the fire seeming to retreat into his veins.
Why did I do that?
I couldn't help it.
Then, the ceiling light flickered back to life, illuminating his slender, carved face. His jaw was tense, confusion painted across his features as he waited for me to speak.
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. "What do you want from me?"
He tilted his head slightly, surveying me from head to toe, his eyebrows raised in a way that seemed like a recalibration. I grimaced.
"Truthfully," he said finally, with an exhale. "I came seeking an ally, a friend. But for now, I'll settle for being an acquaintance. You seem...uncomfortable, and that won't bode well for my plans."
"No!" I cried out, my mind racing to the worst.
"No?" He seemed taken aback, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I must have misjudged you, then. My apologies. Allow me a moment to explain—"
Shaking my head, I found it impossible to meet his gaze. "No, what I mean is... who are you? What are you doing here? I'll call the police!"
Interest flickered in his eyes. "Will you, now? Go ahead. Do it."
I looked at him, feeling utterly miserable, and pressed myself against the dresser once more.
