Don't Text Me | Taesan X Woonhak

29: Not Replying

⋮ ⌗ ┆Long chapter, please point out the mistakes, I wrote this in a rush.゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

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Dongmin couldn't sleep.

His body was exhausted, but his brain was currently leading a violent coup d’état. Every time his eyelids heavy-fanned shut, his subconscious dragged him into a fever dream.

He finally drifted off, just for the world to dissolve into a hallway that was far too long and suspiciously damp.
​At the far end stood Woonhak.

“Taesan,” Woonhak said. The name hit Dongmin like a physical slap.

Dongmin froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Woonhak. Hey. Buddy. You’re looking... very cinematic today.”

“You lied to me.”

The floor beneath Dongmin began to ripple, the solid wood turning into something fluid and treacherous.

“Okay, 'lied' is such a binary term,” Dongmin stammered, trying to keep his balance. “I prefer to think of it as a long-form performance art piece. A social experiment that we both... mostly me... participated in.”

“You fooled me,” Woonhak continued, his voice echoing like he was speaking through a stadium sound system. “Every text. Every 'goodnight.' I thought I was looking at Taesan. But I was looking at you, Han Dongmin."

Suddenly, the hallway flooded. A geyser of saltwater slammed Dongmin against the wall. When the spray cleared, Woonhak wasn't standing there anymore. He was rising. Higher and wider. And significantly more... multi-limbed. Thick, pulsating, suction-cupped appendages sprouted from Woonhak’s back.

“WHAT IN THE LOVEVRAFTIAN HELL IS THIS?” Dongmin shrieked, scrambling against the wall.

Woonhak was now a giant, glowing, deeply offended octopus with a human face. It was the most judgmental cephalopod Dongmin had ever seen.

“OH, COME ON!” Dongmin shouted. “A CEPHALOPOD? REALLY?”

“I knew the whole time,” Octopus-Woonhak boomed, his voice vibrating through Dongmin’s very marrow. “I watched you type every lie. I watched you sweat. And now? Now, the internet is disconnected.”

“WHY ARE YOU AN OCTOPUS, THOUGH? IS THIS A METAPHOR FOR YOUR REACH? IS IT THE MULTITASKING?”

A tentacle the size of a redwood tree whipped out, lashing around Dongmin’s ankle with slimy precision.

“Wait! Stop! We can pivot!” Dongmin flailed as he was dragged toward the glowing, judgmental eyes of the beast. “I’ll break my phone! I’ll give you my laptop! I’ll let you ghost-write my apology letter!”
Another tentacle coiled around his waist, hoisting him into the air until he was inches away from Woonhak’s giant, blinking eye.

“I take it back!” Dongmin screamed, his voice hitting a register only dogs could hear. “I'm sorry for catfishing for 5 months! I'm sorry you had to get beaten up for me! Please don't kill me!!!”

The octopus leaned in, the air got thick with the scent of salt.

“Too late, Han Dongmin,” Woonhak whispered, his beak clicking with rhythmic spite. “You shall be eaten alive.”

SQUEEZE.

“AAAAAAAAA—”

Dongmin shot up in bed, drenched in sweat.

“What the Fuck?!”

His voice echoed in his room as he stared at the ceiling, breathing like he just ran a marathon.