Murder Mansion • BTS

4 : Maybe

Written by JJ

HOSEOK POV

I awoke to silence.

Only, the silence was painfully deafening, reverberating tumultuously throughout my hollow corpse. My ears were no longer a necessary appendage- for this thunderous quiet I knew I would be able to hear even if I were deaf. I had leadenly opened my eyes to a black darkness, revealing my dilated pupils to the vast, ebony nothing that lay in the abyss before me. My heartbeat clamoured in my chest, rapidly pounding at my conscious to do something.

I blinked.

A foyer was set in front of me, a dull and milky white. Decayed from age, I thought. My cheek was pressed to the foul smelling and rotted marble, a pungent odour of mould mixed with mildew. I peeled my face from said floor, as it was frigid and sent chills crawling past my face, and, as if in a trance, rose to my knees. I scrutinized each crevice, hunting for anything that could be out of place.

Only... everything seemed awry. As if this house were being pulled apart from its insides, each molecule repelling each other, and by doing this, keeping itself together at the same time. It felt as if this house, no, this mansion, wanted to expel me from within it. The intramural seemed to reverberate with savage threats and hostile forebodings. Come to think of it... where was I? I did not recognise this place, nor could I recall it... yet I could not recall anything. When I thought back to my previous actions which could have landed me in this circumstance, I was greeted with a blank slate where I was sure an intricate storyline should have been painted.

I strained to reach the far corners in the vast expanse of my mind, yet could only scramble towards one miniscule piece of information which provided no insight into my happenstance nor predicament. My name.

"H-" my voice cracks, and I clear it, trembling. I am about to attempt to utter it once more, when I hear a startled, timid voice from behind me.

"W-who are you?" I freeze at the wary, masculine voice emanating a little to the left of me. I could not see them, however, as they were situated a few paces away.

"Hoseok," I say, recounting my only memory originating from earlier than the past minute or so. "Who are you?"

"How can you remember so easily?" the voice was suspicious, and distrusting. I gulped, feeling a bead of sweat travel from my hairline to the base of my ear, before rolling down my neck and past my collarbone. I suppressed a shiver, as it prickled down my feverish skin.

"It's the only thing I can remember," I admit sorrowfully, and turn my head to look at my interrogator.

He immediately jumps back, in a stance mimicking a defensive fighting posture. His bright, startled eyes were a dark charcoal brown, flitting nervously up and down my body in hesitation. They seemed to be a soft triangular shape, and I almost couldn't tear my gaze away from the way they curved down at the edges, yet perked up in a gentle point. His nose seemed well proportioned to his face, small yet elegant, and it seemed to have a peculiar twitch one would connect to a nervous tick.

His mouth was reminiscent of an oyster by the way it was partially peeled open, yet glued tight together on either the left or right side. I thought to myself that this was perhaps a man who would not easily share information, and only spoke when he felt his words were necessary and had a contribution. His lips were perhaps the most prominent feature he held, second only to his eyes, for they were a light pink and resembled a budding rose. His top lip was slender, and had a natural cupid's bow which dipped into its center. His bottom lip popped out, much more prominent and blushed.