hydra | svt

INFERNA.

however as she floats closer, it becomes evident that something is wrong: her skin is too grey to be life-like and sometimes appears translucent like a corpse's as she tiptoes forward. it's a jarring shade of blue-white that is only emphasised by the warm colour of the mist swirling around her - and her smile, at first delicate and kind, twists into something more sinister and strained; it's hard to believe something so sharp could produce a sound as supple as this song.

when she's only a stone's throw away her eyes flutter open though her humming never ceases, keeping seventeen under her spell. seungcheol, being the closest, has to visibly hold back a yell as her milky white gaze lands on him - she has no irises nor pupils, just a vast whiteness that doesn't reveal any of the inner workings of her mind.

as they say, the eyes are the windows to the soul.

her feet are bare as they close the distance slightly and it quickly becomes apparent that the only piece of clothing is the dusty pink slip dress draped over her plump figure.

aphrodite, the goddess of love, fertility and beauty.

when she finally ceases her walk, seungcheol feels as though the lullaby is disrupted and temporarily broken; once again the shout unfurls from the back of his throat but then aphrodite stops smiling.

nothing but a piercing yell exists in the seconds after she does and the boys fall to the ground  and writhe about with their hands over their ears and their eyes clenched shut, their leader no exception to the deafening attack.

nothing makes aphrodite happier than seeing all of her opponents thrash about on the ground in an attempt to ease the pain and failing miserably at doing so. she shrieks louder with glee as they cry out, unable to tell left from right.

the goddess of love disappears and the battle reaches the next phase.

wonwoo is surprised at how quickly he becomes accustomed to the pain: the ringing is still echoing in his ear cavity but it's not unbearable and he practically leaps into a fighting stance. he whips his gaze around in an attempt to locate the enemy but the fog makes it difficult to see more than 3 meters ahead of him.

wonwoo is utterly alone.

physically he's alone, but the unsettling feeling of being watched nestles in his stomach and the hair on his arms and neck bristle. frustrated and worried about the others, wonwoo clenches his fist to release some of his pent up emotions and wishes he had a weapon of some sort to protect himself with.

he feels as though the universe is playing a cruel joke on him; the desire for defence and safety barely crosses his mind before a gurgling noise fills the space and the ground in front of him starts to bubble and swirl into a black vortex, from which a figure begins to rise.

his hair is a similar shade to that of aphrodite's, with face framing curls and a thick braid that ends at his lower back in a perfect ethereal flourish. it's also threaded with gold fibres that only emphasise the multitude of hair colours they're buried within.

wonwoo swallows thickly and takes several steps back as the figure emerges fully from the ground: he's got a good four or five inches over the mage (who's already a whopping six foot something) and a very toned physique that competes with a boyish face which hasn't quite lost its baby fat yet: a reflection of his vanity, wonwoo supposes. he's been smiling eerily ever since he appeared and wonwoo sucks in a breath at the sight of his opponents teeth, which are two rows of pearly white knives.