chris's writing spot

The temple is silent as Sanghyuk limps inside. He uses his sword as a support, stumbling slowly up the steps. His goal is the limp body at the top of the stairs, resting in the very face of the temple he’s gotten so familiar with.

He falls to his knees as he reaches the final few stairs, hands scraping at the cobblestones. “I did what you wanted,” he rasps, looking for some sort of sign that this.. entity is going to hold up his end of the deal. “Bring him back. Please.”

He watches as the final statue crumbles into dust in a cracking orchestra of noise, and a figure emerges from the shadows. “So you aren’t useless, after all. Fine. You’ve brought me back. Now perhaps it Is time. Go to your loved one, wanderer.”

Sanghyuk looks from the form, dark and only vaguely shaped like a man, to the altar, where Wonshik lays, motionless. He makes his way to his feet as quickly as he can, scrambling for the man as he watches him begin to move.

“Wonshik. Wonshik!” Sobs push their way from his chest, and as soon as he can reach, he pulls the waking figure to his chest. Sanghyuk presses his chest to the crook of Wonshik’s neck, gripping onto him as hard as he can without hurting him.

“Sanghyuk..” Wonshik’s voice is rough, and more gravelly than it has ever been- he’s been dead. But he isn’t anymore, and that is all Sanghyuk has wanted in these past days and hours and unbearable seconds. “What.. happened to you?”

Hands are caressing Sanghyuk’s cheeks, dark with dirt and tainted with darkened veins running under ghastly flesh. Trembling fingers run over the horns which have erupted from his skull, parting his hair around them.

“I missed you. So much. I.. couldn’t bear not having you.”

“Oh, Sanghyuk.. where are we?”

“That doesn’t… it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re here now. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you sooner. I’m so sorry. Let’s.. get you out of here.”