Occult | JJK 🔞

1| Blood Moon

The smell of blood was so pungent, it was making his stomach churn. He could feel it, lukewarm and coppery on his tongue, moist and sticky as it made its way down his scalp to wet the collar of his army uniform.

No matter what, don't throw up.

He had already lost the last remnant of his dignity some hours ago and couldn't afford stooping lower by vomiting all over his boots. If he was going to die tonight, he wanted to preferably not be covered in puke.

"Jungkook, come back here right away, it's an order," chanted the figure somewhere behind him, and the boy started to run away blindly, wincing at every step.

He looked down, assessing the damage done to his leg. Despite the gaping slash that adorned his thigh, he could barely feel the wound, the adrenaline pumping in his veins numbing his entire body until all he could perceive was his heart thundering in his chest. However, he knew he wasn't going to last for a lot longer. The spongy sound the sole of his shoes made every time they hit the pavement was a good enough clue he needed to get out of there fast.

"Jungkook! You can't run away from me forever!"

The boy's pursuer was getting closer.

The little streets of the rich part of Pyeongju all looked alike: tall stone walls with private gates on either side, lots of trees and absolutely no one in sight, which was typical Monday at 3 in the morning. The pavement was unequal and the boy stumbled uphill, getting more and more tired, his ragged breathing getting caught in the wind and heard by the man chasing him.

A demented smile made its way to the Colonel's lips.

"Come on, now," he coaxed, letting the tip of his sword brush the pavement with a metallic clink, "This isn't a way to behave towards your superior."

Jungkook gritted his teeth. That guy was a nightmare, clearly enjoying the running and the hiding like the hunter he was. The boy now understood he could have killed him a long time ago but had chosen to let him run free just for the pleasure of tracking him from a distance instead, following the trail of fresh blood like a hound chasing its prey.

Finally, with a groan of effort, Jungkook arrived at the top of the hillock, limping slightly as he took a look around. Walls now surrounded him on three sides, the grey stone stretching towards the sky, steady and perfectly insurmountable.

His fist hit the concrete in frustration and he let out a sound much similar to a sob, eyes stinging.

This was a dead-end. He was stuck.

Jungkook took a deep breath, calming down before slowly turning around, meeting the gaze of his Lieutenant Colonel, who had been chasing him down the streets of the city for the last three hours. His uniform was impeccable, his shoulder marks glinting under the red moon that was shining that night over the country. The sword he was holding was an object foreign to anything the boy had ever seen, as tall as a full-grown man with a carved gold handle, the sculpture of a dragon with ruby eyes glinting ominously from the pommel.

Jungkook glanced at the weapon; the red staining the silver and dripping on the soldier's boot. Whatever it was, this thing certainly had some kind of effect on him because he had never felt this weak. The energy usually bubbling under his skin, always ready to take over, was now a dull tingling in his spine, shying away when he needed it the most. Was the blade poisoned? Was he dying?

It sure felt like it.

Usually, breaking free from the walls surrounding him would have been a piece of cake, but since the moment the blade had slashed his skin, he had become as useless and vulnerable as a human.