The sky was still blue, bright and beautiful.
The smell of rotting corpses was pungent, intolerable to weak stomachs. Their slimy and clotted black blood was everywhere: on the cracked asphalt, on the grey sidewalk, on the nearby wreckage of twisted metal and debris,
And on Jimin's body.
His eyes looked up, seemingly at the sky but devoid of any appreciation towards it. They were almost lifeless if not for the occasional blink. His eyes were bloodshot, dry, and slightly swollen. There were tear stains on his cheeks, accompanied by splatters of blood that wasn't his—a residue of the chaos ensued before his fearful eyes. His lip was bleeding and just under his cheekbone was a bruise, slowly but surely turning purple. His clothes were covered in blood as well, like everything else was. It had dried, the passage of time slowly bringing about the calm after the storm. His view of the sky was slightly obstructed, and his movement was restricted, all by what was splayed unmoving atop him.
Jimin laid motionless under two brutes, one of their heads almost tucked into the crook of his neck while the other's chin sat on his forehead. The shoulder of the latter was just under his eyes, blocking the view of anything around him. Jimin had no other choice but to rely on the sounds around him—the sounds of the dead still stumbling and shuffling around just a couple feet around him. Despite the obvious presence of brutes, the coast was mostly clear. After what happened with the horde, Jimin feared moving a single bone in his body. His head echoed with Mara's screams for him, and his heart stung painfully as he was forced to keep quiet, to refrain from reassuring Mara that no, he had not been eaten alive and yes, he was still here. Her cries for help grew faint; then they halted completely. Jimin could only shed silent tears, stifling his sobs as to remain unnoticed by the horde. He feared the worst, but held hope of her safety, albeit not with him anymore.
Alone.
Alone besides the wind that blew solemn tunes—that cooled his sweating face. He wanted nothing more than to throw the bodies off of him, wishing to scrub until his skin was reddened raw. However, patience was crucial. Too hasty and he could fail at concealing himself and there would be an endless uproar. Jimin was stubborn, and he refused to fail, so despite the rising temperatures under the corpses, he remained still, silent, unwavering. He had a perplexing tenacity even Mara couldn't explain, but it had kept him alive thus far. Being alive meant seeing his brothers again, being alive meant good things.
Did it?
After a long, insipid wait full of thoughts on past unfulfilled endeavors, Jimin slowly began to slide the bodies off of him. He started with the first, gagging at the feeling of the brutes skin unsticking from his—so long in contact had almost fused them together. The sound was revolting to Jimin, but not as much at the guts that sloshed out of the brutes stomach. The squelch of brittle bones and rotting skin was causing bile to rise in disgust. Once its body was off of him, Jimin moved on to the next. This body, more intact than the last one, was heavier. Jimin looked down at the corpse, face once contorted with repugnance slowly growing somber at the sight of what lay on him. Its skin was pale, veins green and protruding. It's eyes were open—an ocean blue turned a dull gray under a layer of milky white. Her hair was blonde, dirtied by mud and blood. Her clothes were dirty, but still somewhat presentable. Her face was delicate, almost left untouched weren't it for the violent gash between her eyebrows. In all the mayhem, Jimin hadn't quite taken the time to study who he was hacking away at. His only concern was keeping up the fight, regardless of whatever came at him. The blood that trailed from her wound was the end of her story.
She was young, and her life had been taken from her.
She had recently turned, and her gentle features were now at rest. No longer was her body used as a vessel for the virus that wreaked havoc—that most likely ripped her from her family.
Jimin took a deep breath before gently setting the girl to the side, his surroundings now in full view. He refrained from hissing as he stood up, his cramped muscles begging for him to move. His silent movement was aggravating to his body, which craved to stretch. He stifled a groan, fully aware of what roamed around him. Jimin scanned the streets, eyes searching for something—for someone. They glossed over at the sight of nothing.
There was a very dreadful stillness in the air, one that reminded you of every single loss, of the neglected grief following years of countless misfortunes. The strive to move forward onto a better tomorrow was a mirage, the puddle on the road in the far distance on a hot day that never seems to get any closer. If anything, the future was at a standstill, if not already abandoned.
Jimin looked back down at the brutes he'd pushed off of him, noticing the gaping holes in their backs. After fighting off the brutes for a while, Jimin had slashed the two brutes nearest to him, struggling to push them away with loud cries and groans. Instead of killing them off, Jimin resorted to using them as shields. The surrounding brutes had pounced on him, knocking Jimin down and tearing into flesh that smelled human. Once realizing that they were eating rotten and not human flesh, the brutes were quick to look for a new prey. Masked by the scent of brutes, Jimin internally sighed with relief. There were large chunks missing from the backs of those two brutes, and the sight was appalling.
"That could've been me," Jimin whispered to himself.
Jimin was surprised his backpack was mere feet from him, as he thought it would've been dragged away in the stampede. He shrugged the backpack on, picking up his axe with a sigh. Luckily for Jimin, the odds seemed to be in his favor on this eventful day.
At least partially.
"What now?" He asked himself, looking around for...something, anything that could tell him where to go or what to do. However, not a clue lay in that barren land. Not a soul lingered in sight-
"Hey,"
Jimin froze.
"Jimin?"
Jimin placed his mostly empty backpack on his desk, plopping down with an annoyed sigh. The class was filled with noise. Restless teens endlessly rambled about incomprehensible things that Jimin couldn't tune into nor wanted to. Jimin was fidgeting in his seat, flinching at the cold metal that pressed against his thighs. He cursed himself for wearing shorts, but the bright sun and the hot breeze outside had him refraining from even considering jeans.
Jimin looked to his right, where the windows sat to illuminate the room with natural light. He watched the trees blithely sway, and he listened to the white noise of children playing and, farther away, a lawn mower. Jimin stared at the fence that sat in the distance, wondering when he'd step out those doors into an ethereal unknown.
Just minutes before class and in walked the two lecturers, clad in black and white attire covering them from head to toe. They peered at the class over their tiny old spectacles, noses wide and pointy and eyes narrowed with skepticism. This was only for a few seconds before they continued whatever they were going to do.
The nuns stood by the desk at the front of the room, setting down the books they carried in their wrinkly hands. Their nails were grown out and polished. Jimin knew it was the only part of themselves, besides their face, that they were allowed to show, and giving their hands proper care was a sign of good hygiene and God-honoring habits.
Jimin glanced away, catching sight of eyes on him that prompted a double-take.
He sat on the desk next to Jimin, eyes staring at him over his forearms, which he rested on the desk as he laid his face down. Jimin was reminded of a painting.
The one Sister Elena had gone on a rant about in class once.
Fallen Angel.
Except his stare wasn't as intense. It was tame, almost like a glare but withholding any ounce of animosity.
He was just...staring.
Once Jimin's eyes caught the boy staring, the latter quickly turned away despite obviously being noticed. Jimin spared one last glance before ignoring the boy. Jimin cleared his throat, eyes on the blackboard for further instruction from the nuns. They were focused on something else, completely unbothered by the volume in the room, one Jimin found obnoxious.
"Psst..."
Jimin frowned, his widening eyes darting around in search for the source of the call.
"Psst..."
Jimin paused, blinking before turning to the left to be met with an awkward looking kid. His face was no longer hidden, but his body language gave off the feeling that he would've preferred to keep it that way. He was as young as Jimin, as was every other kid in that room. His hair was messy, a curl here and there protruding from the top and resting on his forehead. His thin lips twitched into an awkward smile.
"Hi," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck timidly and glancing from the ground to Jimin.
Jimin nodded, "Hello." He offered a small smile, annoyance dissipating by the second. Jimin didn't want the lad feeling even more awkward than he did at that moment, so he offered a kind reply for consolation.
"I just got here. I don't know anyone," the kid said, smile growing naturally and teeth slowly poking out behind his thin lips.
Jimin nodded, "I've been here for a while," he shrugged.
The kid's smile fell ever so slightly, "Ah. I see. I'm sorr-"
"Not your fault. I don't really care. Been here all my life so I don't know the difference," Jimin rolled his eyes, and the lad seemed taken aback by the anger that seemed to rise from Jimin. The other quickly nodded, nervously staring at the ground.
"I'll only be here for a bit, but I hope we become good friends," the kid mumbled, a kind smile directed towards Jimin. Jimin held back from a couple of cruel words, opting to simply nod and smile back.
Everyone had been there only temporarily from the start. However, short term stays became long term and hope would diminish like sand in an hourglass. Nothing yielded from hoping to quickly be adopted, to be taken back by parents who regained custody of them, or by family members who had once made promises to take them under their wings only for those promises to be void, worthless, empty. Trust was obliterated in a fury of tears and screams of betrayal. You could beg but those pleads were rendered silent by the walls of the orphanage, where at such a young age, kids learned that the world was full of lies and false hope.
But Jimin bit his tongue, because despite the world being so cruel, he would never be as such to those also subjected to this torture.
There was a momentary silence where both boys were unsure of what to say next, but Jimin quickly stepped in, hoping to make a friend that wasn't as obnoxious as everyone else in the room.
"So...my name is Jimin," he spoke, grinning, "What's yours?"
The kid smiled back, "I like your name.
Mine's Taehyung."
It felt surreal, and extremely spontaneous—in a good way. Nothing could've prepared Jimin for the sight before him. He stood in awe, his heart dropping to his feet and eyes filling to the brim with tears. They did not flow, and through his blurry sight, Jimin took a disbelieving step forward.
"Holy shit."
There was a particular rawness in his voice that gave the impression of sincere desperation, one that brought him close to his knees with utmost joy the moment he saw his beloved friend's face.
Still on the timid side but brave nonetheless.
The nature of maturity was a striking process, and it guided people into the space they were created to fill.
The man standing just feet away, Taehyung, had certainly filled that space with purpose—at least in Jimin's perspective.
Jimin had never been so glad to see someone. Of course, Mara was still nowhere to be seen but the sight of a familiar face in such a foreign place was heavenly.
Taehyung stood off to the side in a worn down building, speaking hushed as he beckoned Jimin over into the darkness of the room he was hiding inside of. He was looking around as Jimin inconspicuously slipped inside. The room was dingy, an echo of water drops sounding nearby. Light didn't hit every corner, but it was illuminated just enough for both to see each other's faces.
Everything came crashing onto Jimin at once.
Taehyung looked down at Jimin, a small smile curling at his lips. It seemed harmless, and in fact warm and filled with relief.
"I'm glad you're alive," Taehyung softly said, "I knew it. I knew you weren't dead." Taehyung stepped forward, enveloping Jimin in a tight embrace. The latter grew tense, but soon slumped over and wrapped his arms around a sniffling Taehyung.
"There I thought I'd have to give up. I knew I'd find you," Taehyung whispered, "I felt it."
Upon looking over at Jimin's face, the smile on Taehyung fell almost immediately. Jimin didn't seem ecstatic, nor did relief flood his face. He seemed downcast, a look of guilt slapped onto his once bubbly exterior. Taehyung's eyes shifted between each of Jimin's before he sighed. Jimin's arms fell limp to his sides. Instead of happiness flooding Jimin, and despite the relief he felt, there were other emotions that were stampeding through, wishing to be acknowledged, to be felt.
"I know," Taehyung's eyes flitted to the ground as he licked his lips, seemingly searching for a way to console the heavy hearted Jimin, "I know you must be upset."
"Upset doesn't even cut it," Jimin whispered, lips trembling. Taehyung was quick to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He soothingly squeezed, "I don't really know what your relationship with her was-"
"Is. Don't say 'was' because that makes me think she's not alive," Jimin snapped, but his hardened stare softened. "She's alive. She's just safe somewhere else."
"Of course," Taehyung said, but his response prompted a glare from Jimin.
"Of course? You don't sound so sure."
"I saw her for a second-"
"You were there?" Jimin was incredulous, eyes wide as he sat up and face Taehyung. Taehyung drew back, a look of surprise on his face.
"Wh- I mean, well yeah," he stuttered.
"And you did nothing?" Jimin asked just above a whisper. A look of betrayal flashed his eyes.
"If I had intervened I would be dead."
"Did you see her leave?"
Taehyung nodded, tight lipped, "Yes."
For a second, Jimin relaxed with relief, but at the thought of death being around that corner that Mara took, he stiffened up once more.
"And you didn't stop her?"
"A lot of freaks were still around. She ran off and turned a corner and I lost sight. I could only really notice you. I thought you were really dead. Seeing you come out from under those two freaks was a relief. I couldn't lose you a second time," Taehyung shook his head.
The mention of what happened months prior set Jimin off.
"Why did you guys leave me?" Jimin snapped.
Taken aback, Taehyung stumbled over his words as he tried to answer, "W-We couldn't-"
Jimin shook his head in disbelief, "I thought I was important to you. How could you just...abandon me?!"
Taehyung looked around warily, hoping that Jimin's voice wasn't drawing in unwanted attention. Jimin didn't quite seem to catch on, he was caught up in every emotion he didn't express when Mara was around.
"That's not- Of course you're important to us, but-"
"But?" Jimin whispered, furiously wiping tears away.
Taehyung's gaze fell as he searched for an answer, "It was Namjoon. He refused to put anyone else in danger."
"I didn't know he made every conscious decision for you?" Jimin bitterly muttered.
"That's not it-"
"He wasn't even there that day, so what's your excuse?" Jimin's blank expression bored into Taehyung's shifting gaze.
"Hoseok didn't see you-"
"You keep blaming everyone else. Can you take a bit of accountability?"
"I kept looking for you, okay?! God! Is it not enough that I tried?!"
Instead of replying, Jimin stared silently. Both idled in the silence thick with bitterness. The sweat that trickled down both of their foreheads dropped down to a floor layered with dust. It was hot and humid inside, and Taehyung tried to cool himself with a quick shake of his shirt. Jimin, on the other hand, was unmoving. He didn't wipe the sweat from his face or attempt to cool himself. He was, again, motionless.
"You know, I tried to convince myself that it was for the best that you put off any kind of search for me. But then a day turned into a week. A week into almost two months. O-Or at least I think it's been that long. The more time passed, the more I got used to being without you. That girl? She helped me recover."
"I saw her at the warehouse. I've met your friend before. Several days after you went missing," Taehyung sternly spoke.
Jimin blinked away the tears, eyes now filled with confusion. He was about to rant about every single concern in his mind, but now completely thrown off his tracks, Jimin frowned.
"What?"
"Yeah...She had your shoes on and by then I was starting to fear the worst. I thought maybe she'd gotten to you and not the freaks. I thought she'd done something to you," Taehyung gulped, stare dark away as he reminisced.
"She went to the warehouse without me?" Jimin whispered to himself. He looked down pensively at the ground, brows pulled into a frown.
"I lost her for a bit but then found her roaming about on her own," Taehyung scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I stalked her."
Jimin's head snapped up, "You what?!"
"I was in a terrible mindset, okay? It was either exacting revenge or allowing her to get away with whatever she did to you," Taehyung snapped, stance defensive.
"You didn't see me with her? At all?"
"I thought..." Taehyung sighed, "I wasn't thinking straight at all. I'd been running on no sleep for a bit. I didn't think you'd be...so alive and well. You don't even look like you with that fucking stubble. "
"Were you going to try and kill her?" Jimin whispered in disbelief. He expected a resounding 'no', but what he got was something unexpected. Taehyung's eyes fell. Jimin took a step back in shock.
"You'd do that?"
Taehyung stared intensely at Jimin, "For you, yes."
"You'd kill anything, anyone, for me?" Jimin asked again, not out of curiosity but out of incredulity. Taehyung took a second to respond, seemingly contemplating the answer. He offered a curt nod.
"I don't think that's something I would ever want," Jimin contested. His tone was somber—definitive. Taehyung seemed to take this with a head bowed in what appeared as shame.
Jimin felt a tinge of fear, but he quickly shook it off.
"We got too confident. We thought we could take on a lot of brutes," Jimin began once more, trying to move on from the topic. He just couldn't quite process the idea of his friend murdering others simply to uphold his loyalty; whether by revenge or whatever other ill intent.
"Brutes?" Taehyung still looked uncomfortable.
Jimin clenched his jaw, "Sorry um... freaks."
Taehyung nodded, "And you got ambushed."
"Yeah, I stupidly tried to get our stuff back and it just lead them all to me. I was surrounded and I couldn't see anything. Mara tried to kill as many as she could to get them away from me. I was able to kill a couple but then the bodies fell on me and they weighed me down. For some fucking reason they stopped attacking me. Went straight for Mara," Jimin winced, "I heard her screaming my name but I was too scared to move. All the brute- freaks, all the freaks were stepping over me. It was suffocating. I just...I was too scared. And then I waited for them to pass. It felt like an eternity. When it was clear, I stood up and couldn't see her anywhere. That's when you came in," Jimin muttered. Trying his best to recount the harrowing events. His mind was still muddled with overwhelming thoughts and emotions he couldn't quite cope with; loss being one of them.
"You say it like you're not happy to see me," Taehyung frowned.
"I'm glad to see you," Jimin sighed.
"Are you?"
"Yes!" Jimin exclaimed, "I just wish that having you back didn't mean losing her as well."
"You've been with her for two months and you're already risking your life for her?" Taehyung muttered. He'd gone stoic.
"She's just a kid, Taehyung. She's been alone for three years, looking for her parents who I'm pretty sure are fucking dead by now," Jimin shook his head. The thought of Mara wandering on her own was driving him up the wall with frustration.
"She's so traumatized by loneliness. People have taken advantage of her kindness and even then she'd prefer that over being alone. You can't sit there and judge me for caring for her when I'm the only real friend she's had all this time. You're lucky you've had people with you from the start," Jimin prodded Taehyung's chest softly.
Taehyung looked thoughtfully at the ground.
"Did she want something in return?" He asked.
Jimin stared at Taehyung, "Two things."
Taehyung raised a brow.
"A friend," Jimin looked down at the ground, eyes glossed over, "And a reason to stay."
"Was she hurt...before you got split up?" Taehyung firmly asked.
" I don't know. I-" Jimin gulped, "I think I accidentally injured her...with...with my axe. She was bleeding-Or was it the brutes' blood?" Jimin asked himself, brows furrowing in thought as Taehyung attentively listened. The latter sighed, rubbing his friend's shoulder comfortingly.
"I'm sure she's okay-"
"What if I killed her?" Jimin whispered, lips quivering once more as his wide eyes glossed over.
"Don't-I'm sure she's fine. A small scrape-"
"With an axe?!" Jimin exclaimed. Taehyung was taken aback, blinking at his outburst. Jimin leaned back as well, finding himself too close to Taehyung.
"If she's as bold as you're making her seem-"
"She really is," Jimin interrupted again, "She's got balls of steel, man," he chuckled sadly to himself. Taehyung lightly squeezed Jimin's hand with a reassuring gaze.
"Then I'm sure she'll be okay. If we see her around we're taking her with us," Taehyung nodded.
Jimin smiled, "Promise?"
Taehyung growing smile faltered, "I can't make promises, but I can try my best to make it happen."
Jimin nodded slowly, smile having fallen as well.
"Okay, I trust you. "
Taehyung prompted both of them to the door, "Let's hurry before night falls."
"Her bag is still here," Jimin pointed, noticing her blanket spilling out from the bag. He shoved it back in and closed the bag swiftly.
"Maybe there were too many for her to come back for it." Taehyung speculated, eyes scanning their surroundings in search for the girl. But he stood in place, hands on his gun which he brandished with confidence.
"I don't know. That just makes me feel worse."
"She'll be okay-"
"I don't think you get it. Right now she's got no food, water, blankets, nothing at all, she doesn't have shit. She's all alone out there with nothing," Jimin strained, face turned red from having to scream so much in the span of five minutes.
"You want her to be okay so badly, and yet your mind is set on her failing. Have some faith in her," Taehyung sighed. Jimin blinked, nodding,"No, you're right. I'm not being optimistic."
"We should take it. If we find her she'll get her stuff back."
"Okay."
"Let's go."
"I'm sorry for being so difficult. I really am glad to see you again," Jimin pulled Taehyung for an embrace. Both held tightly to the other.
"God, me too. I can't believe you're actually here right now."
Jimin idled for a bit, wishing he could stick around in the off chance Mara would come back for her things—maybe for him. However, Taehyung ushered them both into a steady walk. Jimin acquiesced and clung tightly to Mara's bag, lips pursing with dread. Taehyung glanced at Jimin before giving the run down bus one last knowing look over his shoulder. Jimin turned, prompting Taehyung to turn back hastily and smile warmly. There was every bit of reassurance in that smile, and Taehyung placed his hand on Jimin's back, guiding him forward.
Jimin smiled, completely unaware of Mara who laid unconscious, and whose nightmares were plagued with his last breathing moments.
—-
I wanted to hold on this chapter for a bit but I felt like maybe you guys weren't going to want that. So here we go.
I felt so evil releasing that chapter LMAOO
wethenaive