𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬; jjk + pjm✅[ONGOING]

29. Mirror | rorriM

" Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
Who is the craziest
of them all? "

[ Recap:

In the last chapter, we see an encounter between Jimin and Jungkook late at night in the kitchen. While Jungkook realises that his feelings for Jimin might never go, Jimin on the other hand is shocked to see a change in Jungkook's behaviour towards him. Jungkook's unlikely gentleness towards him leaves Jimin perplexed.
The following chapter is based on one of the two unknown characters (- one of them being Yeona, Jungkook's sister who has already been revealed).

This chapter is essential so that the readers get a glimpse of what goes on inside the unknown character's mind. ]

13/09/2017

3rd Person POV.

APART from a few broken streetlights, all that lined the deserted road were just small outgrowths of shrubs and wild grass.
The clouds were as gloomy as ever and the moon refused to show it's scarred face.

In the middle of nowhere stood an abandoned shed which looked so desolate that it was impossible to find any sign of life.

There was not a single movement, the wind seemed stagnant and the trees stood lifeless as if they had been dead for a long time.

Just close to the entrance of the shed, there was a continuous trail of footsteps.
It seemed as if they went on and on into the depths of the horizon until they stopped, almost abruptly. And from there, there was not a single sign of further footsteps.

The man trudged along the dirt path and approached the gates of the shed. Looking around and making sure that he was the lone soul there, he fished out a ridiculously small key from his pocket.

He turned the key in the lock and after struggling a bit, was able to successfully open the gates.

The dust inside drove the man into a frenzy of coughs but as soon as he had pushed open the gates, he disappeared inside the darkness again.

A blanket of cobwebs hung loosely from the pitch black ceiling making an obnoxious pattern.

There was no source of light except a lone bulb that flickered occasionally. The click of a lighter, produced a miniature flame in the room.

The man, probably in his twenties, slowly held his lighted cigarette to his obscure lips and swaggered inside the shed.
Loosely hung around his neck was a worn out black mask revealing a poorly done tattoo of a serpent, right below his right ear.

The walls of the dilapidated room was surrounded by mirrors.
If one would stand in the centre of the room, they would find themselves looking at their own reflection, no matter whichever direction they set their eyes on.

Some of the mirrors were broken, some cracked, some old and hazy.

The broken mirrors were a result of the man's rage inflicted on them. Usually all it would take was a small disagreement between him and his own reflection.