May Devil Take Your Soul? 1

Taehyung dreams of becoming a model-nothing more, nothing less. He arrives in Seoul, ready to chase his ambition, only to uncover a hidden past shrouded in mystery... one the world knows nothing about.

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‎A black stain seeped across the floor, creeping toward the bed. Wisps of shadow coiled around Taehyung's limbs, lifting him-slowly, gently-until he hovered above the mattress.
‎
‎Then-

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Taehyung's fingers trembled as he pulled the worn-out file from the bag. The brittle pages whispered secrets as he unfolded them-a sprawling family tree, stretching from 1890 to 1983, the name Jeon etched in faded ink.

Jeon Jungkook.

The last entry.
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Angelina.

She lay there, too still, too pale, dressed in white like the angel he had always called her. But her lips were colorless. Her chest did not rise. Her hands, once so warm when they cupped his face, now lay stiff and cold over her stomach-their child's grave still hidden beneath the fabric.

A sound tore from him-raw, guttural, inhuman. It didn't even sound like a scream. It was the noise of a soul being shredded apart.

"NO-NO, NO, NO-"

Jungkook hands shook as he grabbed her, pulling her half out of the coffin, his arms locking around her as if his embrace alone could seep life back into her veins. He pressed his forehead to hers, sobbing so violently his entire body convulsed.

"Angelina, baby, please-" His voice was a broken whisper, lips trembling against her skin. *"Open your eyes, please, I'm here now, I'm here-"*

But she didn't move.

His breath hitched, a sharp, shattered gasp. Then-