Home (I wish you could stay)

VII.

The trudge towards home base was long, and treacherous, and miserable for everybody. But finally - their bodies spent and bleeding - the beige worn-down building came into view. "Guys! We're home! We made it!"

A collective sigh reverberated through them, the pace picking up slightly. Walking up to the large iron gate, they waited for a voice to come through the speaker on the left of them. When nothing came, a bad feeling washed over them. Jin pressed the button, only to be met with silence. "Looks like we have to go around then."

Following after Jin, he took a secret path to the back, one that only higher-ups in the compound knew. Taking turns, three of them kicked in the door, eyeing the disaster before them. Papers littered everywhere, chairs overturned. Rot had set in, bodies turning to mush after death.

"It looks like we're alone." Namjoon started to pace, glancing around at the other boys. "I guess the least we could do is restock our supplies, and check for any survivors."

Seokjin nodded, turning to face the group, only to frown. They looked horrible. Bloody, bandaged, bruised, broken in more than one way. Seokjin turned back to Namjoon. "Searching can wait. We absolutely need to rest."

Catching on to what he was saying, Namjoon sighed. "You're right. Let's find a place to sleep and we'll start up again in-."

"God! What the-!" Hoseok yelped, his face scrunching up in pain and his hands curled into fists. "Guys! I- It hurts!"

Jimin and Namjoon were by his side in an instant, followed by a hobbling Yoongi, frantic Seokjin, and a hesitant Jungkook holding Taehyung up. Jimin yanked Hoseok's sleeves up from where he had started cleaning his skin during his outburst while Jin and Namjoon held his thrashing arms down. Large expanses of black took over Hoseok's normally tan skin, cuts from his nails causing a vibrant red to stand out. Checking his pulse while the two men struggled to hold Hoseok down, Yoongi had to pull himself together at the alarmingly fast heartbeat.

"Guys." His voice cracked. It was too quiet, this is too much, this couldn't be happening. He had lasted so long, been human for so long, maybe it had shown Hoseok some slight mercy, but it-

"Yoongi-hyung?" Nobody had noticed that the mutt from earlier had been following them, until it had started to growl and bare its teeth from behind them towards a thrashing and wallowing Hoseok. Yoongi didn't notice. His throat was suddenly too tight, his vision too blurry. This is all too much, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, please god, make it stop.

"Yoongi." Jimin had placed a hand on both sides of his face, pulling him back slightly. "Hyung, please. What is it?"

Yoongi closed his eyes, a stray tear slipping down his cheek. He faltered once more, but eventually croaked out what he hoped he would never have to.

"He's... He's turning. Hoseok has to die."

Red-hot. Searing. Excruciating. Boiling skin, bubbling blood, burnt hair. It's too hot, I can't breathe, it's too hot. It burns, why does it hurt so much? How do I make it stop?

"Yoongi?"

The smell. Too strong, too good. Don't. Hunger. If it didn't hurt so much, I would be starving. The circus. Movie theatres. Restaurants at a mall. Food courts. Meat. Smells. Delicious. You can't. Burning. Ache. So much pain. Dinner.

"He's turning."

What? Who is? Me? Is that what this is? No! It can't be! I'm fine, guys! I.. I'm fine. I'm just..

Hungry.

And something smells really good.

Hoseok had since stopped his caterwauling and turned eerily still. Only the fast rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still breathing. Sweat dripped off his forehead and onto the ground beneath him. "So what are we gonna do? Kill him in cold blood? That's our friend, Yoongi! That's the guy you fell-"