Minho sat up in his bed, a pit of dread forming in the depths of his stomach; he felt as though he was going to be sick. Something was terribly wrong, he could feel it, but he didn't know what. He slowly slid out of his bed, barely noticing the iciness of the floor beneath his bare feet.
He stumbled, his legs nearly giving way under his weight, and he barely managed to catch himself on his dresser as he gasped for air that would not come. Why can't I breathe? Why...
"F-Felix," he called, his voice wavering as his body convulsed slightly. He crashed to the ground, his chest heaving, tears blurring his vision. "Felix!" It was more of a cry than a shout, and a terribly weak one at that, but moments later the door swung open and Felix ran in, his hair sticking up at odd angles, his pyjamas wrinkled from sleep.
He scoured the room before his eyes landed on Minho. His eyes widened and he gasped, flicking on the lights and rushing over to him. He kneeled, wide eyes searching Minho's face. "Minho, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice frantic.
The older man opened his mouth to answer, but all that left his lips was a strange gurgle as his body continued to shake, trembling beneath an invisible weight. All of a sudden, his breathing halted completely, and he clawed at his throat, tears blurring his vision, falling from his eyes in waves.
"Impossible," Felix muttered before he shook his head, taking Minho by the shoulders and effortlessly lifting him; Minho, in the midst of his distraught thoughts, found it strange. As soon as it had come, the thought was whisked away by more delirious feelings, sending him tumbling into hysterical sobs once more.
"Changbin!" Felix yelled as he placed his friend down on the bed, and within moments the boy had burst into the room, too, eyes wide in alarm as he felt the other's distress. He froze, eyes widening when they landed on Minho, a hysterical mess on his bed.
"Is he...?" He swallowed thickly, voice fading slightly towards the end.
Felix grabbed at his hair and tugged. "I don't know. I don't know." He pressed a hand to the older male's forehead and pulled away with a quiet yelp. "Get a soaked cloth. As cold as you can get it," he ordered, and Changbin didn't even question it as he ran out of the room, towards the kitchen.
He reached under the writhing boy's jaw and pressed, hard. In moments he was unconscious, and Felix ruffled his hair with a stressed sigh. He ran a hand down his face, his eyebrows drawing together.
What he'd just seen... it was impossible. Felix's mother had reacted in a similar way when his father had died. By Werewolf Law, they'd been Mated. Marked. But Minho... he shook his head again; he couldn't be Mated. It was just impossible, but what other explanation was there? Humans didn't just have reactions like that to nothing.
He hesitantly let his eyes slide towards his friend's neck; reluctantly, he stuck his nose there and sniffed. No; there was no Mark there. He pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Worry laid heavy in his heart, and his mind raced with possibilities, each one less logical than the last. When Changbin returned, he stared at the boy questioningly. Felix sighed again and leaned against the bed. "I knocked him out."
Changbin settled down next to him, carefully draping the cloth of Minho's feverish forehead. "He's not Marked," Felix said quietly after a few moments, and the older boy looked up at him in surprise.
"Then what...?" Felix shook his head, unable to answer, because he had no explanation, either. Changbin looked at their friend worriedly and leaned on the other's shoulder. "I've never seen him like that," he whispered, and Felix grimaced, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him closer.
"Me neither." It was rattling, to say the least. "Something... something weird is going on here, Binnie." His voice wavered softly, and Changbin wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.
"I know," he said slowly, before shaking his head. Felix's phone rang loudly, and he winced at the sudden, grating sound, fishing it out of his pyjama bottom's pocket.
"Hello?" He had a feeling he didn't want to know why Hyunjin was calling him at two in the morning. He was already stressed enough with this, and his friend's ragged, hiccupping breathing was not helping him at all. "Hyunjin?"
A quiet sob travelled through the receiver. "F-Felix... it's Jisung. He was... attacked. It's bad. Oh, god, it's bad." His eyes widened and he sat up straighter, and from the concerned look on Changbin's face, he'd heard it, too.
"I know it's far, but... please... please come." Felix closed his eyes, nodding to himself. He looked between Minho and the phone, biting his bottom lip so harshly it almost bled.
"Go," Changbin said quietly, quietly enough that Hyunjin wouldn't be able to hear him over the phone. "I'll watch him." He nodded again and exhaled heavily.
"I'm coming, Hyunjin." The lump that had formed in his throat was hard to talk around, and his words almost sounded choked. He heard mumbled words before the line went dead. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and ran a hand down his face again, squeezing his eyes shut.
Changbin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he looked over at him, lips pressed into a thin line. "Go," he said again, and Felix nodded, slowly sitting up. He was torn between his worry for Jisung, and fear of what he'd find when he got there.
He leant down and pressed a quick kiss on Changbin's lips before he stood, rushing out into the hall. He entered his own bedroom and rummaged through his bottom drawer. He pulled out a small glass bottle containing a clear liquid and sighed.
He sprayed some on his neck quickly, grimacing as it covered his Mark. He hated it; he hated the way Changbin's smell leeched away from him, leaving him as just Felix. The Cover-up cost him a pretty penny, a potion he ordered from an independent witch in the city, but it was worth it.
The Alpha might very well kill him if he ever found out he'd been Mated without permission or ceremony. He loosed a tight breath, and hurried out the apartment door, into the fresh night air.
~#~#~#~#~#~
Minho dreamt of strange things; he dreamt of castles the colour of blood, of soft, electrifying touches, of fear and pain... He dreamt of death – his own death. Though... he did not really look as he did now. He wore strange clothes, clothes he never would've worn for the life of him – clothes that were definitely not in style anymore.
He was in a forest, he knew that much, and he lied next to someone; someone he loved very much. He could feel it; feel it straight down to his bones, and his death rocked the very earth he lied on. It tore through everything he was until there was only nothingness.
Another man stood near him, and despite the blurriness of his face, he knew his expression was grim, if anything by the way he spoke. "We could have prevented this, Myungsoo. It didn't have to end this way." He knew tears were spilling down his cheeks, but he could barely feel them.
He wasn't even aware enough to realize that he'd been called by a different name. A name that was not his own. The voice was vaguely familiar, but he turned away from the figure and reached out for the other beside him.
He was motionless. Blood flowed out of his throat, and he felt like screaming. His eyes were closed, but Minho couldn't seem to recognize the face. But he knew he was important. He knew he was... but he couldn't remember why.
Soon the settings changed, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he realized he was in a room. A house, by the looks of it. The physical pain was gone, but still, the emptiness prevailed. Now, he was beside the same man, except instead of his previous injury, he now had a deep, oozing gash running all along his side.
Minho scrambled to his feet, lunging across the room to reach him, to stop the bleeding, to make it better–
A hand caught him by the waist and yanked him back. "I won, Myungsoo. I won, this time." The voice he barely recognized whispered in his ear, and he shook his head, struggling against the hold. He had to get to him, he had to find a way–
The world started to crumble beneath his feet, and he fell, further and further away from the injured boy, his face deathly pale. He reached out, fingers brushing his for but a second before the darkness tugged him in completely.
A/N: Whoot whoot. This is already getting somewhere yeet
Q: What was the most unsettling film you've seen?
A: (You probably shouldn't read this answer if you're very skittish, though violence is a thing in this book oop-) Well I don't really remember what it was called, and it was more like my mom was watching a movie, and I just saw this really disturbing scene and it scarred me for lIFE. It was a horror movie (of course), and in it this man (or woman? idk I can't remember) kidnapped a little girl and sewed her mouth shut. I hate seeing children get hurt, like I can't deal with it, and the screams were so disturbing yikes
Lots of love,
~Junnie