REAPER || minsung ✔︎

25

8 days

Voices, too many voices. The whispers mashed together inside his head, murmuring through one another and forming one big glob of nasty chimes. His skin was burning with frost, not enough to numb him yet. Kill him, just stab him, free yourself...

Jisung looked over at the figure who was silently sleeping next to him with steady breaths, while his own hitched.

A soft moonbeam caressed his features, making him even more ethereal in this lighting. Serene and at ease, as it should be.

He had to get away from him, he had to save him from himself. Frantically throwing of the covers he ran. Through a tunnel where the only goal was to get away, as far as possible, with the sickening chants licking at his heels.

Kill, kill, kill... They chanted like a cult offering. They closed in, forcing him down on both knees. He covered his ears as if that could block out what only one could hear, because it was all in his head. His eyes clasped shut, tightly as if he'd never wanted to open them again.

"Go away, go away, go away," Jisung begged in a low voice, not far from a whine. His hands balled into fists as he cowered down even further. "Leave me alone, you're not here, I'm blocking you out."

He yelped, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth and eyed the door in fright. When it remained quiet on the other side he let go of his breath in relief. Carefully he took the hem of his shirt between his trembling fingers. Lifting it, he cringed at the sight that greeted him.

Open blisters and blue veins, running up and almost meeting his chest. He quickly let the fabric down again, no one would want to see that.

"Could they not choose a more practical place to force me to keep a weapon? Or maybe just stop forcing me to keep a weapon I don't need?"

The only way you'll be able to end it if you end him. Jisung looked up at the figure, eyes dark.

He wasn't scared anymore, he'd grown exhausted of constantly fearing for his life. He'd come to peace with the fact that he didn't have that much time left and he was going to make the best out of the little bits he had left.

There was a black mass of smoke, eyes glowing bloody red with a grin made up of sharp teeth, like a siren lulling him into his own grave. We know you can see us, so why keep ignoring us?

"You don't tell me what to do," Jisung snarled, glaring daggers at the mass of nothingness. "In case you've forgotten, I'm still a rebellious teenager."

Don't make it so hard for yourself, you're a pawn in a game, you're not in control.

He couldn't care less about what they were trying to say anymore, he was tired of evil spirits talking in riddles. Couldn't they say exactly what they wanted and leave already? Was it that hard?

Before Jisung could even fight it a force hit him in the back. He fell over, hands hitting the floor so hard they bled. He wasn't in control, they were right, because without any reigns in hand his body was moving back into the bedroom.

He felt a touch on his shoulder, pulling him back.

It was telling him silently to not do it, that he was stronger than that. He couldn't lose himself over that; his life was worth more fight. It halted him - momentarily.

He ripped himself out of the embrace.

He wasn't in control. He was watching from behind a screen, seeing how it all went down. He saw how his hands drew the knife, how they held them above the sleeping body of the person he had sworn to never hurt.