Midnight's fragment

Chapter 2: Fractured Reflection

What according to you is fate?
"A series of chaos? Cosmic plan? Or is it an illusion that we're too afraid to challenge?
Some believe it's the guiding force that shapes our lives, others think it's just random chaos that we try to make sense of.  But what if it isn't something that just happens, but something we unknowingly create? A twisted dance of decisions, circumstances and consequences--where, in the end, we're all bound to collide with the very things we fear the most."

The room vibrates with tension, thick and suffocating like a storm waiting to break. Jungkook stood in the centre of Room 317, his chest heaving as he stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides, his nails biting into his palms until they left crescent-shaped marks.

"Why are you still here?" He spat, his voice venomous, the words echoing off the cold, lifeless walls. "What do you want from me?"

His reflection stared back, fractured and mocking, jungkook's lip curled into a sneer, and he took a step forward, his movements sharp and aggressive.

"Say something, damn it!" He roamed, slamming his first against the wall beside the mirror. The frame rattled but didn't fall. His knuckles throbbed with pain, but he welcomed it. Pain was real. Pain was honest.

The silence pressed down on him, fueling his rage, "you think i don't know what I am?" His voice cracked on the last word, but he masked it with another punch, this time shattering the mirror into a cascade of jagged pieces.

Glass rained down around him, and he stood amidst the wreckage, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, Blood dripped from his knuckles, a crimson trail forming at his feet. Jungkook stared at the shards scattered across the floor, his fractured reflection staring back from each one.

"Good", he muttered bitterly. "Now we match".

Dr Seraphina had just concluded a productive group session. She offered a warm smile to the patients as they dispersed, jotting down notes about their progress. The meeting had gone well, but a lingering weight settled over her as she thought about the next patient on her list.

A nurse approached her, handing over a file. "Dr Seraphina, it's time for patient 223".

Seraphina opened the file, her burrows furrowing as she skimmed the pages. Jeon jungkook, severe PTSD with psychosis. Charged with double homicide. The words felt heavy, almost suffocating, as she read through the details of his case. Violent outburst ls, self inflicted injuries. A refusal to engage with staff.

"Believes he deserves confinement," she read quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She sighed and snapped the file shut.

"I'll see him now," she said, walking towards Room 317.

As she approached the door, a strange unease settled over her. She noticed the faint scent of blood and the red smears on the door knob. Her stomach twisted, but she kept her expression calm.

Knocking firmly, she called out, "Jungkook? This is Dr Seraphina, I'd like to speak with you."

Silence

Seraphina motioned to the guard, who unlocked the door. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning the room. Glass littered the floor, glinting in the dim light, and blood was smeared across the walls.

Jungkook sat in the corner, his back pressed against the wall, his arms resting on his knees. His hands were blooded, his head tilted back against the wall as if he didn't have the energy to hold it up.

"Jungkook," Seraphina began, her voice calm but firm. She stepped carefully around the glass, stopping a few feet away. "What happened here?"

He didn't look at her. Instead, his lips curved into a mocking smile, cold and unwelcoming.