inspired by miss americana and the heartbreak prince but make it horror lol (it kinda got darker than that lollll)
tags : horror, mild disturbing imagery, let me know if there's anything that needs to be tagged!
//
act i.
//
He's being followed. He knows that much, at least. The slight creak of the hallway floorboards, that goes almost unnoticed in the morning tumult, seems to crack the air like a whip.
He turns his head slightly, observing the shadows through the corner of his eyes, yet there's nobody.
It's so stupid that he's feeling wary, he's usually not the type to care about things that go bump at night. Yet there's something about tonight, a chill in the air, a whisper in the wind - a warning to be careful, careful.
He goes to his classroom, picks up the notes he left in a hurry and shoves them in his backpack, slinging the bag over the shoulder.
That's when he sees you.
A flash of lightning illuminates your face, as you stand at the entrance to his classroom, eyes intensely focused on him.
He straightens his back.
“Who are you?”
Thunder claps in the background and another bolt of lightning sears across the sky.
Jungkook blinks, just once.
You're gone, and there's no one at the door.
//
He sleeps badly.
He's never had trouble falling asleep before but now he cannot close his eyes, for etched behind his lids are your features, your red, red lips and your dark, dark eyes.
The storm rages on outside.
//
When Jeon Jungkook moves to Seoul from Busan, it's not because his father has to change jobs or anything ordinary like that. No of course, that would be too mundane.
His life is anything but mundane.
“Seoul?” he asks.
His mother smiles at him sweetly, and perhaps a little worriedly, combing through his soft hair. “Jimin went there, see,” she tells him, and her quiet voice soothes his anxious soul, “SOPA is so prestigious. You'd love to go there Jungkook-ah. It's what-”
“Okay,” he agrees, and his mother stops mid-speech.
“Okay?” She asks, sounding a little watery, and Jungkook smiles at that. There may be a lot wrong with him, but at least his parents love him for who he is.
//
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” he bites out at Jimin, who merely has the gall to grin at him mischievously.
“Late night?” Jimin prods and Jungkook is this close to breaking point. He takes a deep breath in and turns to face Jimin.
“I saw someone,” it rushes out of him, despite his brain screaming at him not to, but it's Jimin. Jimin with whom he had grown up with as a child, Jimin with whom he had gotten into loads of trouble, Jimin who is his best friend - and Jimin who is currently looking like he's insane.
“Who?”
“A girl,” his voice shakes, not much, just so, but Jimin notices. Jimin always notices everything.
“Jungkookie, you're okay right?”
“Yeah,” he nods, wondering why that girl is still stuck in his memory, vivid and fresh, like spilled blood. “Dunno, hyung, I feel sort of off.”
“Who's this girl?” Jimin asks, running a hand through Jungkook's hair, soothing him with his touch.
“I don't know,” he says, “She was-” he stops, recalling the look in your eyes, “intense,” he finishes, lamely, and Jimin looks confused.
“Okay, Jungkookie. If you say so. If you need anything just tell me?”
He nods, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth.
There was something off about that girl, and he was going to find out.
//
This is the stupidest thing Jungkook has ever done, and that's including the time he accidentally broke his arm by trying to show off his climbing skills. No, this is stupid on monumental levels.
He's at school premises again. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but it's 10 pm. Technically he's trespassing, not that he cares that much about that. His instincts though, on the other hand, are screaming.
His grandma had always told him to listen to his instincts.
“They'll guide you. They might also lead you astray, so you have to use this,” here she pats his round head, “to help you learn what's a bad instinct and what's a good one.”
Right now, his instincts are telling him to get the fuck out of here.
So Jungkook ignores them and ventures confidently forward. There's a flashlight on his phone, and he could call Jimin if things go south. Jimin might whine that Jungkook is disturbing his beauty sleep, but he'll bail him out no matter how bad things get.
There is absolute silence, except for the sound of his footsteps.
That's just wrong, his mind tells him. There is always some kind of background white noise, not this utter and complete stillness.
He should turn back, but persists ahead.
He reaches his classroom door and pushes the door open.
He doesn't know what he expected, but he's oddly disappointed. His classroom is empty, and without the background of the ominous thunderstorm that had raged the last time he visited, it looks merely dull instead of foreboding.
He sighs and turns around, only to see you standing right behind him.
He bites back a scream and stumbles backward.
“Fuck,” he curses loudly, staggering away as you watch him. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he hisses out at you and you tilt your head at him. The action unnerves him.
He tries to clear his head and withdraws a step back.
You inch a step forward.
He pauses.
“Hello,” he finally tries, “I'm Jungkook.”
You watch him.
“You're dead, aren't you?”
Your eyes flash at that, and he sees the glimpse of the shade underneath the soul. He's always been able to distinguish between the good ones and the bad ones, yet you are an enigma. There is a darkness to you that tells him he should stay the hell away from you, but your eyes are oddly innocent. He's unsure, conflicted yet also curious and these are not good things to be feeling around a possible shade. The situation could escalate if he provokes you unnecessarily, so he arranges his face into a smile. “So, what's your name?”
“I don't remember.”
Your voice is sweet, almost childish in its lilting nature. It's a sharp contrast to your imposing almost intimidating appearance. Strange how much presence you held, even though Jungkook is sure you are at least half a foot shorter than him.
“Jungkook,” you call, and he stiffens but immediately forces his body to relax. “Can we play a game?”
Fuck, is what he thinks, but he yields to your request with a nod.
“I think I want to kill someone, can you help me choose?”
Your eyes are wide, almost pleading, as if the request for being an accessory in murder was simply a suggestion to do homework together.
“Hey,” he steps closer to you (Reckless, foolish and absolutely idiotic! His mind screams at him. He ignores it.) “Let's take things slower, yeah?”
“Okay,” you nod, and sit down on the floor next to him. He settles down, and you watch him earnestly, as if awaiting instructions.
You are a very strange ghost, he decides, not that he's the absolute authority on the supernatural. Yet, you're definitely different. You're obedient, accepting of your death almost, yet he can sense the underlying thirst for revenge. It's very subtle though, it's almost like you're holding it back. It makes no sense.
Shades are ghosts that have slipped too far away from humanity to ever regain it back. Mindless monsters who existed only to kill or be killed, they were the stuff of nightmares. Luckily Jungkook is well equipped to handle them. What he's not equipped to deal with, is you, a half shade, probably one murder away from slipping, yet desperately holding back on to your humanity.
Yet, there's a serenity in your eyes, a definite change from the wild intensity that had spooked him the other night.
He must've been silent too long because you sidle closer to him. It takes all of his effort to not become rigid, to let him relax as you slowly trace his features with a feathery light finger.
“You're… new, aren't you?
“New?”
“Haven't seen you around.”
“You're from this school?”
Your laugh is brittle, broken at the edges. “Yes.”
“How did you die then?”
“That's a story for another day.” You move away from his personal space, suddenly leaving him feeling cold and chilly. “So Jungkook,” your smile is razor sharp, “Tell me who should I kill?”
//
end act i.
