My Precious

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Jaehyun races through the dimly lit streets, his breath ragged, footsteps echoing as he approaches an old-fashioned hotel. The cap he wore was only there to cover his identity, but he knew it was no use. Not against him. His eyes are wild, panic gripping him as the weight of something unnatural presses against his mind.

Behind him, the white-suited figure stalks, gliding effortlessly. It wears Jaehyun’s face, but there’s something hollow in its eyes, something hungry. The mimic, a twisted version of him, silently mirrors his every move, growing stronger the closer it gets.

Jaehyun bursts through the hotel’s entrance, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. The lobby is eerily quiet, the air thick with dust and the scent of something long decayed. He takes a few shaky steps into the hallway, glancing around, every shadow a potential threat. A voice, low and insistent, speaks inside his head, his voice.

"You know this won’t stop it," the voice warns. "It’s getting closer."

Jaehyun shakes his head, trying to silence the voice. “I’ll be safe here,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. But doubt creeps in, and the mimic’s presence weighs heavily on him. He can feel its cold stare, even if he can’t see it yet.

As he moves down the hallway, the panic builds, constricting his chest like a vice. The tie feels too tight, the jacket too heavy, suffocating him with each step. With trembling hands, Jaehyun tears off his hat, throws off his leather jacket along with his coat, and tugs at the tie and shirt, leaving him dishevelled, vulnerable.

The voice in his head grows more frantic. “Get to the room fast! It’s coming for you. You have to hide. You’re not safe.”

Desperate, Jaehyun stumbles into a room at the end of the hallway and slams the door behind him, his breath ragged and frantic. His eyes dart around the room, searching for anything. Anything that might help him defend himself.

“In the bag, there’s tape and some cloths stitched together. Tape up the door and any gaps. Use the cloth to cover the mirrors, but leave the vanity. I’ll be there,” the voice in his head instructed, calm but unsettling.

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the red roll of duct tape from his bag and, after a quick glance through the peephole, only to find an empty, but ominous hallway, he tapes over the gaps in the door, sealing it shut, and covers the peephole completely. He bolts all the locks that line the door. He rushes to the window, drawing the curtains tight, cutting off any view of the outside world.

His gaze sweeps the room again, landing on the bathroom door. Heart pounding, Jaehyun grabs the bundle of cloths and moves swiftly. With the tape, he secures them over the large mirror above the sink, concealing it entirely.

The room is silent, the tension unbearable. All that's left now is the vanity mirror, waiting, like the voice promised.

Jaehyun makes his way to the vanity, sinking heavily into the chair. He opens the shutters on the mirror, leaning in closer, his reflection staring back at him with a hollow exhaustion. He sighs, his patience thinning as he waits for the voice.

“Come on...” he mutters, tapping the glass impatiently, frustration building.

As he stares at himself, he feels a warm trickle beneath his nose. Blood. It drips down, staining his skin in slow, crimson drops. In his haze, Jaehyun reaches for what he thinks is a cup of water on the table and brings it to his lips.

“That’s a flower,” the voice in his head chides softly.

Startled, Jaehyun drops the flower, his gaze snapping back to the mirror. His reflection wavers, his pulse quickening. “What’s happening to me?” he whispers, his voice unsteady.

“The mimic...it’s getting closer,” the voice answers, colder now.

Before Jaehyun can process the words, a hand suddenly emerges from the mirror, pale and ghostly, but not unlike his own, gently caressing his face. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he allows the hand to hold him, his own trembling fingers resting on the back of it as if seeking comfort. A deep drowsiness overcomes him, his consciousness slipping like sand through his fingers.

Then, the knock at the door.

The hand retreats back into the mirror, and the voice cuts through the thickening fog in his mind. 

"It’s here."

Jaehyun’s head snaps toward the door, his breath catching in his throat. He freezes, holding perfectly still, straining to hear past the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Then it comes again, a second knock, sharper this time, echoing through the room like a death knell.

The scratching follows, slow and deliberate, the sound of nails dragging methodically across the wood. It’s deliberate, almost taunting, each scrape crawling under his skin. Jaehyun’s chest tightens, his breath shallow and uneven. His hands fly to his head, clutching at his temples as if trying to block out the noise. Blood trickles steadily from his nose now, streaking his face and dripping onto his hands.

Jaehyun stumbles back from the vanity, his legs shaky as the room seems to spin around him. The scratching intensifies, joined by faint whispers, unintelligible yet unmistakably menacing, seeping through the cracks in the door. His gaze darts around the room, desperate for an escape, but every option feels like a trap.

“Go to the bathroom, fill the tub, and talk to me in the reflection,” the voice urged, its tone cold and commanding.

Jaehyun staggered into the bathroom, his steps uneven as exhaustion weighed him down. He fumbled with the faucet, the rush of water filling the tub echoing eerily in the confined space. Dropping to the floor beside it, he let his hand dangle into the water, his gaze drawn to the rippling surface. His reflection stared back, unnervingly sharp and alive.

“There’s no telling how much time you have left,” the reflection spoke, its voice low and firm, the words sending a chill down Jaehyun’s spine. “It’s only a matter of time before that thing gets through the door.”

Jaehyun’s breath hitched, his chest tight with fear. “What do I do?” he whispered, his voice breaking, blood from his nose dripping into the water and blooming in crimson swirls.

“Trust me,” the reflection replied, the edges of its image distorting slightly, as though the water itself trembled.

The banging outside grew louder, more frantic, the door rattling on its hinges. Jaehyun’s pulse quickened, panic clawing at his chest.

The voice sharpened, slicing through his terror like a blade. “Jaehyun, focus. It’s here. You need to move. Now!”

Adrenaline surged through him. Clawing his way off the floor, he pushed himself upright, his body trembling from the strain. He stumbled out of the bathroom, the sound of the water still running behind him. The door shook violently as the mimic’s relentless assault grew stronger, each bang reverberating through the room like a death knell.

“Don’t let it in,” the voice commands. “It’s stronger now. If it gets through that door–”

Jaehyun doesn’t wait to hear the rest. He grabs the nearest piece of furniture, dragging it in front of the door with trembling hands. The scratching abruptly stops, replaced by an eerie silence. The whispers fade, leaving only the sound of Jaehyun’s ragged breathing.

But the reprieve is short-lived. The mirror on the vanity flickers, its surface rippling like water. A distorted reflection of Jaehyun appears, grinning inhumanly. The voice in his head speaks again, quieter but more urgent.

“It’s not just at the door. It’s everywhere.” Jaehyun feels breathless.

“Let me help you. Let me get you out of here.”

Jaehyun freezes, his breath hitching. The voice is insistent, pressing against his fraying nerves. He doesn’t know if he can trust it, after all, it’s his own voice, familiar yet unsettling. But the scratching at the door is growing louder, more frenzied, and the mimic is closing in without even entering the room.

The weight of the moment crushes him. With no other options, Jaehyun stumbles toward the couch, his legs barely holding him. He collapses onto it, his body trembling, muscles taut with fear. “Please,” he whispers, his voice fragile. “Get me out of here.”

The words barely leave his lips before the couch begins to shift beneath him. It’s subtle at first, a strange tug, as though gravity itself is twisting. Then it becomes violent, the fabric and cushions pulling him down as if the couch has come alive. Jaehyun claws at the armrest, panic erupting, but it’s no use. The ground beneath him opens, swallowing him whole.

The room around him distorts, the walls stretching and bending, colours bleeding together in unnatural hues. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as he’s dragged into a swirling abyss. The mimic’s relentless scratching grows faint and distant until it vanishes entirely. The silence that follows is almost worse, a suffocating void that presses in from all sides.

Jaehyun feels a jolt, his entire body snapping back into sensation as he’s hurled out of the void. He hits something hard and unyielding, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Gasping, he rolls onto his back, the sharp chill of night air biting at his skin. His fingers scrape against the rough texture beneath him, concrete.

He blinks rapidly, his vision blurry, but the dark sky above confirms it. He’s outside, lying sprawled on a rooftop. Relief is short-lived as he registers the thick, slick substance coating his body. It clings to him like tar, but it’s golden and oily, with a stench that makes his stomach churn. Jaehyun wipes at his face, but the substance only smears, leaving his hands soaked and trembling.

He tries to sit up, his muscles aching and heavy, as though the void had drained him of all energy. His breaths come shallow and ragged, every inhale laced with the acrid smell of the oil. The rooftop is barren, save for a rusted vent nearby and the faint glimmer of city lights far below. For a moment, it’s eerily quiet, the world seemingly paused.

But then he hears it.

A faint knock, not at a door, but from the air itself, soft, deliberate, and unmistakably close. Jaehyun freezes, his heart lurching as he glances around the rooftop. The voice in his head returns, quieter now, but sharp as a knife.

“You didn’t escape. You only delayed it.”

His blood runs cold. He struggles to his feet, the oily substance making him feel heavier, slower. In the distance, past the edges of the rooftop, a glint of white flashes, the sun. But it was late in the evening, how was this possible?

Jaehyun’s breath catches as his eyes fixate on the glint of white in the distance. It’s warm and blinding, unmistakably the sun, but it shouldn’t be. Evening shadows had cloaked the world when he was dragged here. How could the sun be rising now?

He takes a step forward, compelled by its glow. The oily substance clinging to him feels less like a hindrance now, almost pulling him along. Another step, then another. The rooftop stretches endlessly before him, narrowing to the edge, where the sun's light pulses like a heartbeat.

“Jaehyun, stop!” The voice in his head thunders, urgent and desperate. It crackles like static, breaking into fragments. “It’s not real, it’s a trap! You have to stop!”

The warning is drowned out, muffled beneath the pounding of his heartbeat and the hypnotic draw of the light. The voice fades into white noise, a distant echo lost in his mind. His hand extends on its own, trembling as he reaches toward the sun. It feels so close, so inviting, as if he could hold it in his grasp and be freed from everything, his fear, the mimic, the nightmare he’s trapped in.

“Stop!” the voice screams again, sharp and piercing, but it’s too late.

Jaehyun reaches the edge of the rooftop, his foot slipping forward into empty air. His body follows, tilting forward as if pulled by the light itself. For a fleeting moment, there’s weightlessness, a blissful silence as he falls toward the city below. The sun's glow engulfs him, searing and all-consuming.

And then, everything goes dark.

-

The figure outside the door halted its knocking, the sound fading into an oppressive silence. It seemed to pause, listening intently, as if expecting some sign of life within. But the room remained still, empty of any noise or movement.

Satisfied, or perhaps disappointed, it slowly straightened, its head tilting in an almost curious gesture. The dim light of the hallway glinted off its pristine white suit, the fabric stark against the crimson of its slicked-back hair. For a moment, it lingered, its presence as unnerving as the silence it left in its wake.

Then, with deliberate ease, the figure with the face of Jaehyun turned away from the door. Its footsteps echoed faintly, measured and unhurried, as it made its way back down the hallway. Shadows clung to its form, warping and twisting unnaturally with every step, as though the building itself recoiled from its presence.

As it disappeared into the gloom, the air grew colder, the faint scent of oil lingering in its path. Though the figure was gone, the sense of dread it left behind seemed to seep into the very walls, an unshakable reminder that it would return for its next victim. It always did.

-

A/N: I had no idea how to go about this, but lol...here we are

I absolutely love this song/mv and I had to do this for my man, Jaehyun.

I hage no explanation for any of this fic, I just wanted a skinwalker/mimic entity to "explain" this MV

So done! hurray!