Kill Our Way to Heaven (Jikook) ✔

Chapter 27

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 27
"ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏ ᴍᴇ"

His heart was still pounding in its numb state. The tightness in his chest was getting more sickening by the minute, waves of nausea coming over him every once in a while. At this point, Jungkook didn't know whether it was because of the flight or because of how his soul felt like it was slowly breaking into pieces. Breaking emotionally and breaking physically had been the same thing for him for a very long time. All he knew now was that the world was spinning around him, his light head not able to catch up with the speed. He didn't even realise that he was falling down until he felt the cold asphalt of the pavement press into his palms.

He took a moment to shut his eyes and take a deep breath in. The lightness almost took him under, some sense of euphoria washed over him before he returned to the sick reality around him. At this point, he wouldn't mind passing out, or maybe waking up and realising it was all a dream. Instead, he was stuck sitting on the frozen floor, looking up at a creature with a gaze just as cold.

"I will tend to Jimin now," the angel said. Jungkook just looked up in his diffused state, feeling his chest ache more and more at the mention of his friend's name. "Get inside and stay there, it's for your own safety."

Jungkook simply leaned his head against the wall next to him, feeling the rough brick prick his frozen face, angering the already reddened skin. Younghyun's gaze ran over him, from the fresh tears on his face to the way the human shivered due to the cold. There was an odd sense of pity in his eyes, but it was almost analytical rather than sympathetic. Jungkook felt like a subject under his glances, being observed but not comforted. He supposed he wasn't the one needing comforting at that moment when Jimin was the one bleeding out on a church floor with nothing but an indifferent statue of the Messiah looking over him. Jungkook's heart cracked at the thought.

"Were you listening?" Younghyun asked. The younger simply nodded, scraping his irritable skin on the bricks. The angel only once more spared him a glance, muttering an okay before disappearing into thin air.

It left Jungkook with nothing more than the dim lampposts and the pattering raindrops reflected in their light. Puddles slowly started forming, mirroring the dark night sky above him. His muscles were trembling both from the cold and adrenaline, the same as his heart. It was still skipping beats, pumping slow and then erratic. Images of Jimin's pain-ridden face kept replaying in his mind, only being enforced with every glimpse he took at his own bloody hands. It was starting to dry, the sticky substance clinging to his skin, accumulating under his nails and staining his hands. Revulsion took hold at the remembrance of whose blood it was.

His first instinct was to clasp his palm over his mouth to subdue the noise and hide behind it when sobs started to crack his body. Now he just dug his nails into the harsh ground, feeling the grooves scratch at his fingertips. It gave him something to hold onto and ground himself as more and more sobs wracked through his body. Whimpers left his lips and salty tears burned his aching skin. His own mind was giving him hell and purgatory at the same time.

He constantly tried to remind himself of the angels' words. God was grand and kind, he would resurrect Jimin. The angel had been through this many times and would always turn out alright. He would continue his life as normal, even after starting a new one. But those reassurances weren't enough to chase away the memories. He couldn't forget the way his heart went into overdrive nor the grasp anxiety had on his throat. Jimin was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't even calm down enough to grant him some serenity in his final moments. It had all been a blur of blood, pain and stonecold religion.

He could still feel the way Jimin's blood seeping from in between his fingers, gushing from his wounds and the angel turned paler and paler. The whites of his eyes were becoming more prevalent, the browns turning softer, then ghastly. It was terrifying to look into them but he couldn't tear his eyes away, he was scared that was going to be the last time they'd share gazes. Losing Jimin frightened him. The possibility of never seeing him again, the slightest probability that God wasn't as kind as thought drove him insane.