I Want the Headline

38

An itch.

There was an itch.

But it wasn't something he could scratch and no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible. Fingernails clawed as his skin, ignorant of the flesh tearing. First, digging into his forearms and working their way up to his shoulders, he shifted constantly. He rolled his neck, trying to alleviate the crawling feeling working up his spine. The bedsheets were too hot. He kicked them off, jerking as the cold air drifted over his feet. Sharp stinging cold stabbed at his feet and he wondered how he didn't know that the room was so cold.

But then why was he sweating?

Feet frozen, he scratched at his thigh, hissing at the burning feeling spreading up his leg to his ears. Why was it so hot now? He shuddered, a chill running down his spine. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he hot or cold? The itch grew in intensity until he swore he couldn't scratch at it fast enough. Hands gripping and nails scraping at his chest, he heaved in a choked breath.

Was it possible for a person's heart to itch?

Something moved out of the corner of his eyes and he whipped his head in that direction, eyes squinting in concentration. The shadows in the corner of the room shifted, something fell over and he swore he saw something step back. He saw something. He knew it. And if he wasn't too distracted by that damn itch, he'd get up and investigate.

There was a thud that had him crying out in shock.

Something was definitely in the room with him.

He scanned the room, eyes lingering on the rumpled bedsheets half pooled on the ground. Wasn't he on the bed? Curling his fingers, he looked down to the coarse carpet underneath his fingertips.

He had fallen out of bed.

But why didn't he notice it? And where was the feeling in his limbs? He leaned forwards to untangle the sheets wrapped around his ankles. Something brushed over his arm and he blankly stared at the needle stuck in his thigh. Sedately he pulled it out to stare at it. It was a needle. He knew this, so why wasn't anything registering in his brain? Delicately he set it down, jerking off the sheet and crossing his legs.

Just a minute. He just needed a minute to sit and breath. Taking in several deep breaths, he rubbed his face. What day was it? He felt he'd been trapped in this room for days. Where was everyone? He relaxed.

Then there was the itch; back with a piercing vengeance. He lurched, desperately scratching at his skin. Everything was crawling and his nails weren't long enough. He stumbled onto his feet, wildly looking around the room. He needed a distraction. Fingers curled around the handle of the nightstand drawer, but all that was inside was paper and pens.

Something shifted in the corner again. It was definitely a person.

It smiled at him.

He grabbed the closest thing, the lamp, and threw it at the corner, hoarse voice threatening.

"I'll wipe that smile right off of your face.."

It was suddenly dark. Remnants of the lamp sizzling in the corner. He smelled something but could pinpoint what it was exactly. He swore he heard a sigh. It was still there.

He felt it.

He crossed the room yanking the curtains from the rod to let moonlight drift into the room. Bluish light dimly illuminated half the room; starkly black shadows blocking out chucks of the room from his sight and he growled.

It could be anywhere now.

He quickly moved forward, intent on opening the door to let more light in. It was locked from the outside, but he was sure he could break it down. He needed to catch whatever was in here with him. Something dark passed by him and he froze, backtracking.

Two wide eyes stared back at him, wildly searching his face, trying to figure out why he was there. He jumped, swallowing his scream. His hand shot out to hit them.

And something shattered.

Glass shattering echoed through the room and he screamed. Frantically hitting the face again and again.

There were more of them.

And they were all screaming at him.

Taehyung unlocked the door and pushed it open, nudging you to enter before him. You both paused, faces solemn at the sight of Jimin hunched in a corner violently smashing a mirror with his bloody fist.

His strained voice screaming at the mirror to stop smiling at him.