Velvet Necrosis • vampire tk

Three

Death feels like a vivid nightmare that permeates into every single cell of his being, as time thins and stretches out like a rubber band threatening to snap.

The pain is all encompassing, searing and coursing through his body, yet his screams are muffled, limbs stuck in place. His head spins weakly, fear and reveries mixed with a million new sensations - each tiny rustle around him amplified, each vibration in the air making him shiver in response.

Jungkook never thought death would be so..raw, more intense than life has ever been.

His eyelids are lead filled, taking all the strength in the world to lift. Is he in the underworld? Is this hell? His parched lips quiver, but only airy gasps come out. And darkness engulfs him, not a speck of light to be found. But strangely, he can make out a hazy silhouette next to him, solemn.

Something is very wrong with his body, something fighting within, burning through his icy skin, making his stiff limbs tremble. Jungkook tries to turn towards the silhouette next to him, tries to seek help, but his body is frustratingly weak and immobile.

A voice whispers on his mind:

Sleep, you're still weak.

He grimaces and responds,

I need... I can't...

The figure next to him leans closer lazily:

You can. I'm here.

Jungkook thrashes inside his shackle of a body. The movements are delayed and pathetically small, like echoes in a nightmare.

Please... please... I can't...

A long sigh cuts into the darkness, and Jungkook shivers when the figure embraces him from behind. There's comfort in the strength of the touch, and Jungkook curls into it stiffly, closing his eyes. Snowflakes dance on his mind, and all around him, vermins and worms crawl along the earthy perimeter, their web of the living extends out into the void.

He wallows in it, trying to distract with the millions of tiny movements surrounding him, but the pain grips onto him like a visor, wringing out every ounce of sanity. His cells are losing the battle, whatever is raging inside, and he wants nothing more than to surrender. Does hell end? Or will this be eternal? What atrocious sins did he commit to deserve this?

Please...

The wrist is in front of him again, his nose picking up on the scent immediately - thick and pungent, like molasses from deep under the soil. He reaches in desperately, drawing all the strength left to suck and slurp the ambrosia down.

The drops set off on his mind like iridescent bombs, shattering his essence into a million splinters. Inside his eyelids is a kaleidoscope of bright visions - Jules' velvety nose under his palm, the whiskers tickling and making him laugh; sun ray darkening Solar's hunched back in the kitchen, blurring the details of her wavy hair; and the long stretched shadows draping over the barren aspen branches, shifting with each snow dampened blink- All the memories surge and crash onto each other, bombarding him like searing fireworks that explode and etch into the murky mind.

His back arches from the rough stone slab, threatening to snap as every fiber of his being rips open, ready for the morphing. His teeth clatter and grind, hands fisting, digging for purchase. He won't make it this time, he's sure of it now, the death is too vivid, too intense for this shell, it can only end in fire-

Teeth puncture through his neck suddenly, a dissonant note that tears through his maddening thoughts, dulling the noise. His body pauses at the sensation, as the sharp canines sink in like knives through cake icing. Then the lips, embracing his skin in an instance, drawing a shiver out of him.