I Am The End Of It All

                                                               Stuck on static                                                                   Automatic                                                                Turn off tragic                                                                Mother magic

Jongdae shook and clutched at the hands, kicking his feet weakly as the over powering preasure increased on his neck. He couldn’t breathe. The unrelenting stregnth of the torn soul contniued to choke his neck, restricting Jongdae’s windpipe as he struggled weakly. 

He could see remnants of Kai in the other. The monstrocity had Kai’s deep eyes, the souless nature they once had changing from unsettling to terrifying. The harsh cheekbones no long looked attracive only emphaizing his drawn look. Jongdae kicked weakly as he felt his head begin to spin. He needed to breathe. 

He couldn’t see, black slowly creepng in the edge of his vision as he felt the pressure remain on his throat, leaving only the terrifying face of Kai’s ripped in half ghost before him. 

And then Kyungsoo yelled, a faint sound to Jongdae, but one recongized to be a way out. He saw the Kai fragment arch and gasp it’s half mouth open, staring upward before it;s form went nearly soild. The creature turned toward Kyungso lowly, it’s broken and torn side facing the other first before it’s eyes met Kyungsoo’s. 

The body quaked before it expolded off of Jongdae, falling back into the table, its single hand laying on the planchette as it looke up at Kyungsoo, meeting his gaze. 

Į̵̖̠̫̙̜̼͕̫ͥͭͅt̀ͨͣ̚͏̵͈̹̦̤̟̥̣ͅ'̪̲̘̤͙͖̳̲̩̿̔̋̉͗͜ŝ͇̮̺̪̂̎ͪͧͤ͡ ̢͕̱̰̘̯͖̣̮ͣ̀̉̒̔̔͗ͪͅǹ̖̫̭̾̐̑̄̄́̚ę̬̗̬̦̦̜ͩ̌̊̈́͝v̀̇̐̂́̍͏̞̗̘͠e͖͋̐͒̀́ͅṙ̷͍͙̰͓͙̹̲̞̐ͭ̊̚͡ ̲̗͐̚̕o̡̎̏ͤ̋̆ͥ͆͌ͪ҉̣̩̞͢ͅv̵̲̥̝ͩ͛̇ͬ̀è̡̳̼̠̯͓̥͘r̛̳̮̂̀͐̉̈́͐̚.̨̽ͤ̓̒ͯ͂ͫ͆̕҉̰͍͎̘̺͓̭ ̧̮̟͉͙̄̒I͙̠̱̣̻̮͒̓̓ṭ̨̂ͯ̓͘'̪̜̤̻̟̂ͩͯ̊̃̒ͬͮͫ̕͝l̖̜͙̘ͩ͒̔ͨ͋ͬ̈l̝̻̅̉̓̈ ̵͙̖̻̖̦̠́n̨͙̹͈̠̈́ͨ̑ͣ̾̈̍͌ͯe̶̷͓̫̋̈́̉v͕̬̆ȩ̧̯͙͕̳̓̑̉͛ͥ̓͗ͤ͟r̴̛͚͕͔̦ͭ̍̄ͭ̂ͩ ̡̜͈̙̳̰͇̈́ͅe̺̘̐ͨ͡n̛̖͎̗̗͊ͮ́͊̎͆̔d̢̪̪͎̥̃ͪ̍ͬ͐̕ͅ.̨̝̗̺͓͚͇̜̰̎̏̂͐̚ ͣ̾͒̉ͮͣ̔́҉̩̠͚̯̟͕̩Ṉ̭̰̫̻̯̯̃̄̓̇̃̇͐ͥ͠ǒ͓̟̂͘͢t̸̨̲̻̺̜̠̣̋̐̒ͤ̽̏̚͟ ̾̓҉̬͍̩̫̜̜ͅf̷͉͚̹̣ͥ͛̇̅ͅo̪͎̤̮̳̦̫͍ͤ͆̔r̵͚̘̞̦ͫ͋ͤͧͨ̚͘ ̵̠̼̤̘̭̝̤̫̓͒͐̓̿ͮ̈͝m͎̺̣͔ͤͪ́e̴͎͇̭̞̤̱̝̒̓ͫͨ́.̣̩̤̇ͬͣ̏͐ͤ̚͠.͈̗̯ͪ̈͆ͭ̏̂ͩ́̕̕.̩̤̹̄͒ ͇̬̐͆ͣ̚

Jongdae slowly rose, clutching his chest before he reached over to the planchette as well and pressed his hand into it as well, Kai’s ghostly form slowly wavering. Jongdae wheezed as he laid his fingers across Kyungsoo’s and his eyes filled with tears. He let out a tear at seeing his friend, Kai, so… So broken. He must have died horribly. 

“End it Soo. You gotta close the board.” He said as his hand fell away and the ghost looked down as Jongdae fell backwards, eyes barely open as he passed out. An awful time to do so as well, creating an opening to Jongdae’s body, as Kai as he looked down at the form. But he held still and slowly looked at Kyungsoo again, a small , hopeless expression in those dark eyes. 

K͚̫͚̟̲̑̐ͣ͢i̴̵̯̠̩̭̘̮̭̔̂̆̈́͊̽͗ͅl̵̨̡̮̞̂̃͂ͩͫͧ̄l̛̙̟̮̯̟̯̝̄̄ͩ̉̄̕ ̻̪̮̞̽ͣ̒ͣͤ̏͜ͅͅm̷̪̝̹̱̬̘͙̭̄ͤ̕͡e̜̥̜̪̘̫̖ͭ͗̄ͬ̎̆͊͊͝͞,̮͔̟̯̜̼͍̰̂͌̑̃ͬͥͬͭ ̝̜͚͚̦͓̩̝̇͗́ͥ͆̔͠͞ͅp̨̠̝͈͗ͥͫͪ͟l̵͔̝̖̯͋ͦͥ͆͡e̷̹̲̳̥ͫ̏̚̕͠a̜͕͙͂̏ͅs͈͙̦͋͛́͊̌e͉͎͈̫̞͖̜ͤͣͧ͑̾͡.̶͙̀ͭͫ͐̿̚̕.̨̞̼̜̥̓ͤ͡.̘̘̱̪̟͓̼͑̉ͭͨ̀͒̀͘͘.͙̹̳̰͇̯̤̈ͪ͒̇̅̍͞

For a moment, it he thinks he can see the ghostly face of his former lover. He can see the dark eyes, the smooth lines of his face. Or… what’s left of it. The rest is grotesque in a way he’s only ever seen in horror movies - half-decayed and falling apart. The sight is burned into his retinas and even when he closes his eyes, he can see the rotten flesh falling away.

“It’s never over-“ He can hear a distorted voice coming from the empty space in front of him. “It’ll never end. Not for me.”

As fear begins to creep over him again, he sees movement from the corner of his eye. It’s Jongdae, getting to his feet and shambling over to the table. Fear ebbs away, making room for some relief. Thank God, he thinks. He doesn’t believe in one all-powerful deity, but the phrase seems fitting for the situation.

He sucks in a breath and nods, then sniffles. The warmth of his friend’s hand is enough to give him some resolve. At least, until that friend suddenly drops back to the floor, unconscious. He’s terrified again, but before he can make any move to check on Jong, the ghostly form before him speaks again.

“Kill me, please.”

And his stomach bottoms out again. No, is the first thought. And the next one - and the one after that. Kill me. It’s too big a request. Killing this entity would mean ridding the world of the last remaining piece of Kai.

Is he really ready to do that? For a long time now, he’s been torn between love and hate for the man that changed his life in the worst way possible. Every time he remembers Kai, he thinks of the rainy afternoon that they met… and then the chaotic night that the man finally admitted to conning him.

“I can’t… do it with the board still open,” he ekes out, trying to steel his will,”I need to close it to unbind you from the mortal plane before I can… send you to whatever is beyond it.”

He’s not even looking at the ghastly being that occupies the empty chair before him; he’s focused on Jongdae, hoping that the other man doesn’t have a concussion or other injury from hitting the floor so hard.

“So… the game is over. The board is closed. Goodbye.”

It takes an agonizingly long minute for the weight of the room to dissipate. It’s slow, begrudging, but as soon as it’s gone, he peels out of his chair to drop to his knees at his friend’s side. One hand finds the back of the man’s head and the other his throat, feeling for a pulse. When the first comes away clean, he breathes a sigh of relief. But they’re not out of the woods yet. He then uses it to start tapping Jongdae’s cheeks in an attempt to rouse him.

        –{ ° } with a quick shake of his head, Taemin denies the idea to switch seats, citing silently that the other man was right. he needed to calm down, though the hit he’d completed most recently had been so sloppy, his facade and personality shift had been slipping recently. usually stoic and collected during kills, Taemin had found himself wanting to play more and more with his victims, dragging knives to flesh only to give a final shot to the head as cause of death. being forgetful ( neglecting to bring knives , phones, keys ) never had its perks either.

   he simply sips his frozen drink ( half melted by the time they’d spent here already ) while allowing his bangs to fall over his eyes. one leg bounces out of tune with the soft music playing, the action jittery but hidden beneath the table.

   Taemin is a dumbass, for short. even while chatting about the dead and contacting those who have passed ( those who have been killed ) the thought of a grim fate from doing such things never crosses his mind. he’s slow, so the fact that he’s killed people who will probably want to kill him now doesn’t register. instead he’s blindly curious and focused on one matter.

   “ I don’t think there’s anyone I wanna talk to specifically . ” it’s not a lie, he’s great at letting people go. besides, he has not yet been plagued by the death of a close family member. “ but , can you talk to people in uhh . . does heaven exist ? ” there it is, he really wants to know this answer, so his leg stops bouncing as he waits for it. the cops are eerily close but he avoids eye contact, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

   the nerves are apparent in his gaze but he keeps that steadfast on the boy in front of him, fingertips drawing over the smooth surface of a pink macaroon on a small white plate. his form freezes at the glance the other gives the cops, offering a timid smile when he looks back over.

Heaven? He hasn’t been asked about that one in a long time. He figured that most people were godless heathens by now. But this is still Korea. Some people will be holding on.

Heaven… he kind of gets. He understands the desire to live eternally next to your creator. Kyungsoo himself doesn’t subscribe to any one religion. He instead finds that picking and choosing the aspects of several belief systems to be the best fit for him. When people ask, he gives a controversial “polythestic”. They don’t ask him about it much anymore.

Several years ago, he was unsure of the real answer to his companion’s question. Now…

“People only seem to hang around here for a certain period of time before they… depart.”

How to choose the right words? He begins playing with his straw, pulling it through the sharp plastic opening of the cup lid until it makes a sound he immediately regrets.

“If we were stuck here forever after death, there’d be a lot more ghost sightings. That being said, the furthest back I’ve been able to dredge someone up from is fifty years, give or take a few months. Any more and I can’t get them to come back to their remains.”

As he looks at Taemin, he tries to come up with the rest of his point without being too long-winded.

“I have never seen heaven or hell, or anything else. I don’t see… anything. But people do go somewhere. It could very well be heaven. The waiting list just seems kind of long.”

He takes another sip and accidentally pushes the straw, causing a second scrape of plastic on plastic and drawing the attention of a nearby officer.

Immediately, he goes on alert. He smiles and offers a little wave of his fingers. All charm. The only time he’s ever completely innocent-looking is around authority. She smiles back, chuckles to herself, and he relaxes again.

The half form stops, with the beg from Kyungsoo’s lips. Jongdae felt the hands fall away. Air filled his lungs as he gasped and shook, his finger’s quaking and barely holding the planchette in place anymore. Rapid tears fell from his eyes as he stared at the partial form. It fades, in and out before he saw it take on an almost solid looking tone.

“Can you see him?” He croaked out, his voice still weak as he felt the lingering pains. He’d be bruised, as would Kyungsoo, but ti was the last thing on his mind now as he stared at the looming spirit. It’s body was barely there, sharp and jagged rips across the other’s form. 

kai looked like he’d been tied to a horse and quartered. 

And Jongdae was sure it was form after his death. He could see it. The flames on the walls flickere in a manner that he could only call denomic. Lare shadows mo ed in and ot of sight around them as Kai stared at Kyungsoo. 

The white skin stretched as Kai opened his mouth and moved closer, hovering centimeters away as he groaned. It sounded like the sind though old glass windows, almost like a whitle if you listened. 

his hand rose before he traced Kyungsoo’s jaw again and let out a sharper whistle. 

“You were mine once.” it whispered. “You were mine, and now you are no more. Where is the rest of me?” 

It reached out for Kyungsoo again, hands held out wide to grip his neck. Jongdae couldn’t bare to watch it again. HIs hand came off the planchette and the ghost snapped toward him. He gasped as he felt the hands around his neck and ushing him back. 

Jongdae fell to the floor, his chair clattering and his body dragged across the floor, almost to the wall. He grunted and closed his eye, shaking as he scratched at the hands. How many years had it been sine he had been this scared. 

He looked at Kyungsoo, an echoing howl in the distance. “Keep your hands on there! Try to move it!” He gasped before struggling again and shaking. It hurt, and his lungs were starting to burn. He only hoped this would distract him enough to allow Kyungsoo to move the peice. But the tight grip on his neck made him feel like it wouldn’t. 

Kyungsoo feels the pressure on his neck alleviate and it’s as if he’s just resurfaced after being underwater. His lungs inflate and he coughs, hacks, eyes watering. You’d think he’d be used to this by now.

“Can you see him?”

It’s almost like a joke. But nothing about this is funny.

“No,” he says, throat aching with every vibration, “... I can, kinda feel him, though.”

From his perspective, they’re sitting in the apartment in the dark; the only light comes from the windows of the office building next door. They’re alone, almost nothing out of the ordinary. If it weren’t for the mess on the floor and the weight of the presence in the room, he’d assume that he was hallucinating.

Everything is quiet for a long time. The only sounds are the hard breathing of the men in the room and wind outside - until he feels Kai again. There’s a whistle and ice runs through his veins; it reverberates against his eardrum as invisible fingers touch his face. He only hears snippets after that. It’s as if the entity is trying to speak to him over the roar of a concert.

“... -mine... no more-“

The tears finally spill over. It’s like his stomach drops out underneath him. His eyes immediately fly to Jongdae.

“Where is the rest of me?”

If he wasn’t horrified beyond belief before, he becomes so as Jongdae is thrown backward out of his chair. He doesn’t even hear himself yell in protest as he gets to his feet, an action that forces his chair back loudly over the faux-wood flooring. But he keeps his hands on the table.

He can’t stop crying. It’s getting hard to see, but now doesn’t seem like a good time to call it quits. Jongae’s words force him into motion. He keeps one hand on the planchette and wipes his eyes on the crook of his other arm before sniffling and trying to focus.

“Okay, okay.”

He pushes with his fingers and there’s a little resistance, but eventually the felt pads on the underside of the piece give and he moves it to “hello.”

“Kai, is that you?” He… doesn’t really have a plan at this point, but this is probably going to be the only shot they have. Should he try to reason with a spirit that seems like it hates them? Or should he attempt to force the whole thing to an end. If he knows anything about the former man, Kai isn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Let him go!” He’s never been outstandingly intimidating, but this is the most important moment of his life right now, so it feels like an occasion to raise his voice. He slides the planchette over to “goodbye.”

       –{ ° } soft, scenty pastries littered the counter to their right in an organized mess of tans, creams, browns, and the occasional bright pop of color from small fruits. the aroma filled every corner of the small pastry shop they were seated in, across the small table from each other. it was a quaint little shop with only several customers coming in at a time, few spending much time inside except to purchase a goodie and leave with it. the two of them, Kyungsoo and Taemin, though, had been sitting for a little over half an hour discussing the former’s self-proclaimed ‘ ability to speak to the dead ‘. having taken up a seemingly sudden interest in the dead, the afterlife, anything supernatural revolving around death or God– Taemin was engrossed. his eyes shone with curiosity whenever the other man explained literally anything, trying to take all the info in and memorize it. it was a little odd he was so interested in learning this as he’d never shown interest before. someone could preach to him they were a living God and Taemin would kneel before them. maybe he had ulterior motives.

   unexpectedly a small group of policemen entered the little shop, Taemin having been seated facing the door now sort of ducked his head and rested a hand to cover half of his face. his cheeks flushed pink in anxiousness, becoming flustered easily at the sight. he kept his eyes focused on Kyungsoo but it was mighty obvious this was bothering him. always trying to be one step ahead, Taemin did not want the men in uniform to see him even once, he preferred to be completely unseen so as not to draw any attention to himself. stuttering, he asked the other politely if they could switch seats. at least this way the back of his head would be to the policemen ( rather than his profile ). 

   ❝ why are you so paranoid and scared all of a sudden? it’s just the police.❞

  “ ehhh … ” Taemin chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to keep his eyes trained on Kyungsoo. “ heh , you’re right , nevermind – ” usually there wasn’t much that made the blond unsettled, but the job he’d completed only several days before meant cops would at least be on the lookout. he hadn’t been seen but it was better to take no chances at outing himself. sometimes he said some stupid things ( and wanted to make no chances to say those things ). “ I’ll stay here , no problem . ” stopping himself from rambling he ruffled his hair and offered a smile, a hint of tension still visible in his gaze. before his posture shown of relaxed confidence, now though his shoulders were hunched and he looked smaller, both physically and with the look in his eyes.

  “ go on . ”  

“If they make you uncomfortable, we can switch. But it may draw more attention than if we just wait them out.”

Kyungsoo hasn’t had such a peaceful period in his life in a long time. It’s only been a few hours, but he’s loathe to let it go. He didn’t even miss the bus on the way to this meeting. It’s been a good day. He’s gonna do his best to keep it from being ruined.

Taemin is perhaps the first person to seem genuinely interested in his specialty since he returned, and he seems nice enough. There are a few questions that pop to mind as the mood of the table changes, but he knows better than to ask most of them. His mind continues on without him.

What would this man have to be afraid of the police for? Maybe he committed a crime? Several crimes? Maybe he’s the murderer whose general profile is all over the news? There hasn’t even been a witness, so there aren’t any sketches…

Or he’s just had bad experiences with law enforcement. It’s getting to be a bigger issue recently. Don’t judge a book by its cover, right?

And Kyungsoo isn’t exactly a saint, himself. He’s already half-confessed to this guy that he does illegal things like, say, grave robbing - though, not in so many words. He hasn’t exactly mentioned that he doesn’t have a permit for the bones he uses. He’s in no position to be overly suspicious.

He offers a reassuring smile to his companion and takes a sip from his iced coffee. Over the past forty or so minutes that they’ve been sitting here, he’s managed to finish almost half in between questions. When he sets the cup back down, it leaves a ring of water on the napkin he’s using as a coaster.

“No reason to worry. And I could probably give you more targeted information if you’ve got a specific goal in mind. Most people don’t look me up unless they’re looking to make contact for one reason or another.”

The officers have shuffled just a little closer, away from the register and towards the pastry displays. They’re talking amongst themselves, some sipping at paper coffee cups. Waiting for a to-go order. He observes them from the corner of his eye, but isn’t especially concerned.

Jongdae hunched over, feeling a hot breath on his neck and an almost wet feeling around his wrists and fingers. He could see, an almost invisible chain over both their hands, keeping them stuck to the board. 

“Don’t remove your hands. Don’t try to move it.” He hissed quickly, looking around, trying to find the source of the mayhem around them. He felt finger’s now, pressing and crawling across his skin. Usually, the ghosts don’t do physical manifestations, as they’re much more power consuming. 

His eyes were wide as he watched the hands slowly climb their way up both their arms, leaving marks on their skin. His hand shook as it held the piece still, eyes looking up to Kyungsoo. 

Then he saw the smallest smidgen of a face. He gasped, unable to stop himself. 

Sunken eyes, with only a pinprick of white in each hole, stared at him from across the table. A face he knew so well, but almost couldn’t recognize. 

Kai.

There was not even a full piece of him. Jongdae could see the soul was torn… Ripped apart. His skin was no longer the bronze it once was, no, it wasn’t even washed out. He was pure white and grey. HIs lips, what half of them were left, were dry, cracked, and nearly black. 

Jongdae wouldn’t even call this a ghost. 

It was a horror.

He held completely still, seeing this half-life creature holding Kyungsoo’s jaw, tracing it slowly before its fingers started to wrap around his throat. He felt a mirroring grip on his own neck and shook. He felt his voice gone, and he couldn’t find the words to speak. 

When Jongdae speaks, he freezes. It comes out a little strange, slightly strained. Extremely urgent. If pressed, Kyungsoo would probably admit that yes, he’s a little afraid right now.

He watches as his friend appears to register something in the room. At first, he’s almost relieved, because at least now they’ll know what they’re dealing with. But any hopes of a peaceful resolution are shattered with one small gasp.

His eyes level with Jongdae’s and he sees fear - pure, unadulterated fear. And then he feels it: hands on both of his arms, moving from his wrists to his shoulders. He looks down in time to see black marks like ash appear on his skin.

He almost screams, but isn’t able to. There are invisible fingers turning his head, tearing his eyes away. It’s a feeling so familiar that his heart almost stops. God, he wishes he could see what Jongdae can. It’s a little twisted, a little selfish, but he can’t stop himself from thinking it’s not fair in the few seconds before his airway is crushed.

He knows who this is.

It takes all of his willpower to keep one of his hands on the board while the other flies up to grip futilely at his neck. There’s no real wrestling with a ghost, is there? His lungs are protesting, his heart is racing, and he’s going to die here. He finds himself looking at his friend instead of the ceiling.

The medium is still sitting, almost still - except for the trembling. It looks like he’s struggling to breathe, too. Kyungsoo can feel the tears starting to well up. He doesn’t want his last thought to be “I fucked up.”

“N…. Nothing yet. Just the leftovers. Ectoplasm, anger, energy. Nothing that leads me to think that there’s enough of something here to hurt us…” Jongdae murmured as his eyes scanned the room and he glared at the other. 

“My jokes are perfectly applicable. The issue is something else. We’re using this stupid board dude.” He mumbled as he looked at the planchet. “I hate these things.” He grumbled as he crouched a bit and shivered, feeling a hot breath tickle his neck. “God awful things are attracted to these.” 

He bites his lips before shaking his head. “Close it. Say thank you. I can’t keep this up.” 

“Then why are my candles getting thrown on the floor?”

He purses his lips, trying to decide if he wants to keep going and figure out what’s chilling in his apartment. He’s seen enough horror films to know that it’s probably not a good idea. Hell, he’s lived through a couple of them. They both have. And maybe he doesn’t want anyone in the room possessed (again).

“... Okay.” He nods, mostly to himself, and turns his attention back to the decorated board on the table. “Thanks to whoever or, uh, whatever showed up to play this game with us. Unfortunately, we have to go now. You know how it is.”

He usually uses this thing in his tiny storefront, mostly just to maintain the illusion of mystery that he’s built up around his brand. People get a kick out of it. Now, it’s not so entertaining.

“Bye.”

He waits, fingers ready to follow the planchette to goodbye… and keeps waiting. Then he tries to move it himself. No dice.

He starts to freak out.

“Hmmmm. I think it was referring to you.” Jongdae responded with a smirk before he felt a candle they had set up fly by. He frowned with wide eyes as he watched the candle clatter on the ground nearby, the flame out but the intention clear. “Oh my god Soo, you made them mad.”

Kyungsoo is about to protest when everything goes haywire. 

He has to take a second, ground himself, before he can say anything without his voice shaking. He keeps his fingers on the planchet. This was supposed to be a joke.