" he's not dangerous "
SEOKDREAM 2019
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Namjoon struggled, breath ragged as his charcoal black hair covered his eyes, sweat dripping down from his body. He glances up, mouth dry, hands gripping the back of his head, shaking, and he flinches when a gun is thrusted onto his back. His eyes widen and people surround him, red and blue lights flashing, sirens blaring.
He's been caught.
"An Awakened kid," someone's voice bursts through the air and Namjoon glances up, still breathing heavily, looking at the destruction his own hands had caused. "Pretty strong... took down the entire building.
Four-hundred deaths, three-thousand casualties..."
Namjoon gulps and cold metal clicks around his wrists, and he's being yanked up roughly by the officers. His skin is colored with dust and debris, and red and blue washes over him, and for a moment, it's relieving.
"Wait," Namjoon chokes out and he scrambles back, while the hands hooked into his are shoving him forward, "wait—I'm, I'm innocent."
The officers holding him scoff.
"Yeah, right, kid. Just shut up and keep walking."
Namjoon shakes his head and clenches his fists. "Please, just—yo-you don't know what you're doing." He says loudly, and heads begin turning to him. "You don't understand—!"
Someone slaps him. Namjoon yells, thrashing with all his strength at this point, screaming, the sound shrill. "It wasn't me! It wasn't me—I swear!" He rips his hands from the officer's grip, eyes blazing a dark, smoldering lavender. Black, shadowy-looking appendages rise up from the ground and wrap around Namjoon, slithering up his skin and tightening around the cuffs and snapping the metal in half. Namjoon chokes, falling to his knees, eyes big, unable to stop as the shadowy things morph into hands to comfort him, petting him and caressing his body. His own human hands thread roughly through his hair and the shadowy ones thrust forward as the sound of a gun pierces cleanly through the air.
Pain shoots through Namjoon's abdomen and he screams, and the hands react to his cry. A deafening roar echoes from the shadows, and the hands morph into what look like knives. They shoot forward, and Namjoon doesn't dare to look up as he hears the screams and groans of the citizens and officers.
It goes silent soon. The only sound is of the collapsed building crumbling, the fire crackling, police sirens, and the heavy breathing coming from his own lungs. The shadowy limbs stretch back to him, wrap around him tightly, holding his wound, and Namjoon sobs brokenly.
He's such a monster.
Namjoon wakes up at someone's doorstep.
He sits up with a wince, and he looks behind him, where the shadows are still wrapped around his bullet wound. As they pull away gently, he gags when he sees that the shadow is digging into the wound to pull out the bullet. There's no pain: of course there isn't. His shadows will never hurt him: they do everything they can to protect him.
He turns pale when the shadow wriggles around and pulls out a silver bullet, dropping it to the ground, and wrapping again around the wound. Namjoon sniffles, still covered in debris and blood, and he sits up straight with a wince. He jolts when his shadows suddenly sink abruptly back into the ground and he yelps, surprised. Then, he jumps when the door in front of him opens and he hides his face when he hears a shriek.
