the end // yoonkook

10 × love

It's scorching when Yoongi opens his eyes, escaping death once more. But it's not death he should fear—it's his idol. His inspiration, one he loved so badly and wanted to please. For the first time in his life, he thought of himself as naive. If no human, compassionate and caring beings, could ever love him, why would the devil himself?

The scene before him was a cliche—Satan sitting on a black and gold throne upon a number of stairs, smirking down at him. The devil wasn't red with horns and wings like he was previously. He was Jungkook. Jungkook's rosy face and messy brown hair, however with large red horns on his head and a different pair of wings. It was black and fluffy and Yoongi hated himself for wanting to nestle himself in the embrace of his creator.

Yoongi laughs. Laughs like a madman when he finally understands. "I thought this was going to be another time I die," He says with a manic grin.

Jungkook looks stoic as he replies, "That was only the beginning, Yoongi. The true torture will start very soon."

Yoongi's smile comically falters. He realizes that it wasn't like in his dreams. Satan would be satan, a master of torture, and not someone who would think of Yoongi as anyone different from any other person who came into Hell. "What are you going to do to me?"

Jungkook chuckles. "What's with that look, Yoongi? Wasn't expecting me to take you in, were you?"

"You can read my mind?"

"Of course. Now that you're one of mine, I know everything about you."

"You know that I love you?"

"Don't use that word around me. Especially not towards me, you understand?"

"Yes, master."

Jungkook frowns. "It's a shame, you so-called Satanists. As odd as it may sound, I don't like to be worshipped."

"What? Why not?"

"It makes me similar to Him. I'd do anything to not be Him."

"God?" Yoongi can't help himself from scoffing.

"You do not say that name in my presence, Yooongi! You've got a lot to learn." His booming voice nearly earns a flinch from Yoongi, but he feels as though he's become immune, and felt more sensations than he had when he had been a human with working lungs.

Those lungs were numb. He's always wanted something momentous to happen in life. And it never did—but it could happen in the after life. The thought made him giddy and he began to giggle.

Satan looked at him, doe eyes glittering like a schoolboy who'd got his crush to go out with him. "You're a bit more psychotic than I'd initially thought."

Yoongi stopped giggling, as if on command. It was like a switch went of in his body, and he felt like a steered robot. He suddenly felt a pang in his chest and clenched his fist. His throat and mouth were weighted with tears, and it didn't take long for them to come along spilling down his cheeks.

"You have to explain it to me, you know? Why am I like this?" Yoongi sobs.

"What, you dying over and over again?"

Yoongi stobs sobbing and averts his gaze on bright red tiles on the ground. He soon realized they weren't red tiles, but transparent glass tiles, showcasing an enormous fire underneath. He stares at the flames until he feels his eyes burn, and compresses his nails into his skin even further. "I deserve something other than a shitty life. An explanation."

"I made you die over and over again, in the same way you made your victims trust you. At first, I was feeling inspired and I made little background stories for you to put two and two together slowly. Then I was...bored, I guess? So I went ahead and did the job quickly, barely giving you any time at all to think about what was happening." Satan looks at Yoongi with incredible intensity. "You're lucky I made you remember at the end."

"B-but I had a bad life, I have my own explanation as to why I killed."

Jungkook lets out reverberating laughter. "That was the problem with you. You pretended to be so fucking sad all the time...made people pity the depressed, bipolar, and schizophrenic criminal. But all those diagnoses were staged. Your parents paid for them to be, but the law figured it out anyway. That's why you were put in solitary, instead of a mental institution."

"My parents never cared for me! That's how I know you're lying."

"Your parents loved you more than anyone. Like all regular parents do. You created a story, Yoongi. One that gave the impression nobody loved you, not your family or any friends. But you had all that, and you took it for granted. Whatever life gave you, it could've easily been turned into happiness. But you chose psychopathy instead."

Yoongi looks empty, staring into Satan's galaxy in his pupils.

"Hey," Jungkook grins. "I'm not blaming you. You're giving me joy by ending up here. I just had to do that entire speech because I wanted you to feel shittier than you already do." He shrugs comically.

"What happens now?" Yoongi whispers, more to himself.

"You'll be put in one of our sectors, based on your main sin. I think yours is pride." Jungkook's eyes travel to his hand, which was resting on one of the throne's arms. He lifts it, as if cherishing the diamond-encrusted rings on his long fingers. He stops to spare Yoongi a second long glare. "You should be proud of yourself. Pride is known to be the root of all evil. Which is why it's our most overcrowded sector."

"I don't want to be there, with strangers. Please, I'll do anything for you."

"Anyone here will do anything for me, Yoongi. Anyone."

Yoongi blinks, and all of a sudden, he feels a presence right in front of his standing figure. Jungkook's tall figure looms above his petite one and Jungkook brings a hand to Yoongi's cheek. He caresses it so tenderly that Yoongi closes his eyes like it's an act of sentiment. He knows it isn't, but he wants to relish in it anyway.

Jungkook scoffs and removes his hand so fast, like a switch turning on or off. Yoongi's eyes snap open. "You don't love us back, do you? All of us...worshippers?"

"I'm not Him." Jungkook's physique shrinks as Yoongi feels a two pairs of hands drag him from behind. It's dejavu, except it was his parents shrinking in the distance and it was the police's hands from behind. He closes his eyes, feeling stiff and and empty.

Yoongi has lied so many times before. Lied about all the care he's inherited in life, because he didn't ask for it. For once, he'd like to have something he actually asked for. The only thing he wanted—his Devil's love, despite the knowledge that evil can't love. But Yoongi is evil, yet he is capable of such love. It's like a religious person discovering that their God doesn't love them.

He hears screams of those condemned here with him. They sounded so awful that Yoongi felt it. But the drained, helpless cries of help nor the constant metaphorical insect crawling and tracing Yoongi's skin, nor the flames that he couldn't see but definitely caused him to burn was the cause for his defeat. It was the Devil, the feared king of darkness, who couldn't return his love, that made his heart squeeze in pain, and for a moment he thought this too wasn't real and he was about to collapse from a heart attack.

An eternity in Hell?, Yoongi thought to himself, why couldn't death just have been the end?