—is his heart even
beating?

OCTOBER 11:
MIN YOONGI

==

there are a million questions running through yoongi's mind as taehyung trudges forward, feet scraping against the wet mud of the ground. he darts his eyes to the open coffin, swallowing fearfully at the pair of shoes and shit, what's this kid going to think when he sees his grave is demolished?

or is it even the real kim taehyung in the first place?

yoongi snaps back to his senses before his brain can fully comprehend the question, and someone tenses up beside him. slow as can be allowed, jimin stands up, legs shaking against the exertion and—

and then yoongi remembers. jimin hasn't seen taehyung before like the others have.

"t-tae—"

"jimin," namjoon's voice is somehow lowered another pitch, on the verge of cracking, "jimin, you gotta trust us, okay? that isn't the taehyung you know. s-slowly...back away, and—"

"oh my god, t-taehyung, fuck—" it's as if jimin can't hear the others' insistent, hushed pleads, walking forward like a clueless child. "he's...right there, oh my god—"

"jimin!" seokjin hisses, but his own words are cut short by the sight of taehyung raising his head, thick streams of blood—or whatever the hell the substance is—running from under the messy bangs of his forehead.

"t-tae, bud, i'm here, i—" and then jimin stops.

because, clear as day, taehyung grins.

everything that happens next is a barely comprehensible blur to yoongi. he vaguely has the thought of his gun back in his apartment, realizing will dull agitation that he should have brought it, dammit,  before kim taehyung is shrieking like an animal in agony and running straight towards them.

yoongi hears hoseok's loud "shit!", a brief shout from seokjin, namjoon's insistent "we have to get the fuck out of here, c'mon!", but he knows that's not going to work. the truck is at least thirty or so feet away, and at the rate taehyung is traveling at, it'll only take five or so more seconds for him to reach them. even if they do reach the truck, it'll be virtually impossible to start the engine before taehyung has his hands on the vehicle—and themselves.

and it's weird how that works—how yoongi's brain works the clearest, the sharpest under pressure and the terrifying surge of adrenaline. it's not like he's ever been a genius, or some hidden situation solver. maybe it's just that yoongi has a rash, quick mind, his actions far before his thoughts, and perhaps that's the best for times like these.

so before the others can react, yoongi swipes the shoes from the coffin, darts to his feet, and begins to stumble forward.

"yoongi?! hey!"

taehyung makes eye contact with him, and he swears his heart stops momentarily from the chilling, stoic expression that the boy carries.

he swallows, knits his eyebrows, and shouts to the others at the top of his lungs, "run the fuck away, now!"

"yoongi—"

"don't you dare follow me, dumb bastards! get the fuck out!"

yoongi then sprints straight to taehyung.

right before taehyung can grab him, teeth flashing in the insanest snarl that he's ever seen, yoongi crouches left and keeps running. his fingers tighten around the flaps of those goddamn adidas (really, how the hell can he be sure that taehyung is after the shoes, anyway? it's a pretty enormous gamble on yoongi's part, especially since he's using himself as bait). taehyung lets out a noise akin to paranormal, giving the other a fresh round of goosebumps. the desperate shouts of the others far back at the grave are barely distinct in yoongi's ears, but he keeps running, eyes affixed to the desolate, dense woods quickly nearing him.

as soon as taehyung gives the loudest, most monstrous cry that yoongi's ever been unfortunate enough to hear in his life, it's stone certain that he's being chased. and he isn't sure if that's a good thing anymore.

what was he thinking? god, how the hell am i gonna get out of this situation?

for the first time that night, it finally hits yoongi—genuine, bare fear. it's not a mix of adrenaline or the sense of "saving his friends" anymore. no, he's far past that courageous stage. he's fucking scared out of his wits, but—

but i need to keep running.

jacket scraping against loose branches and twigs of barely visible trees, yoongi reaches the dense woods neighboring the graveyard with a pounding heart and diluted pupils. his mind is racing, and the experience is nothing like he's ever felt before. it's nothing that he's ever wanted to feel before.

taehyung screams again, and the sound is so close that yoongi can't help but blurt a surprised "shit!". with one of the quickest decisions he's ever made, he abruptly takes a right and pushes his way through a spiky mess of twigs and haphazard logs. at this point, he'd rather take a blow to the head from some stray branch rather than let taehyung do whatever the hell he's planning to do.

the air suddenly grows silent, and yoongi doesn't realize it until after a minute of running through soundless urgency. with an abrupt halt of his feet, shoes crinkling against dead leaves, he places his hands on his knees and gulps down the air he's been deprived of for at least five minutes of sprinting.

fuck, where even am i? yoongi slowly stands straight up, wincing at the burning in his calves, and looks around with wary vision. it's virtually impossible to distinguish exactly where he is, or at least how he can get back to the graveyard; all around him is a blur of dark, a jumble of tree-shaped silhouettes and foggy air. the situation is so eerily similar to that of the stereotypical horror movies he used to watch back in high school that yoongi isn't sure whether to scoff or scream.

his ears begin to ring. the silence, god, why's it so much?

more than anything, he hopes that the others managed to get out of the graveyard as soon as yoongi gave them the chance. with taehyung out of his radius, god knows where the hell that boy is—and he's positive that nothing good will come out of an encounter with him.

yoongi stares at the shoes in his hands with hooded eyes. is knowing what exactly is going on too much to ask for?

something cracks behind him.

he spares the quickest moment to turn his head back, squinting against the darkness. and he wishes he hasn't.

because that's when taehyung slams him straight to the ground.

yoongi hisses in pain, heart beating erratically from the extreme shock just a moment prior, and barely manages to crack his eyes open. it's something terrifying, what he sees; and god, if he wasn't clutching the shoes in his fingers with all his energy, he swears he could pass out right then and there.

taehyung looks fucking horrifying—with bloodshot eyes, mercury-stained irises, dirtied teeth and cracking skin. it's like staring at a corpse, and if it weren't for the inconsistent breaths taehyung heaves into the minimal space between them, yoongi wouldn't consider it a long-shot to say the kid is dead—hell, a zombie even.

but apparently, kim taehyung is breathing. and yoongi has no idea how to feel about that.

time begins to speed up again as taehyung raises a twitching, grotesque arm into the air, incredibly sharp looking structures implanted into the breaking skin of his limbs.

"shit!" yoongi barely manages to cock his head practically a full ninety degrees before taehyung slams a dirty fist into the space where his head was moments prior, knuckles driving into the ground with enough force to send vibrations right through yoongi's skull. his vision wavers the slightest, and with another screeching howl, taehyung readies the next blow.

yoongi realizes something in those few moments, something that makes his stomach sink. taehyung doesn't give a flying shit about the shoes. all he wants to do is slam his head into the dirt and pound his fists like a machine.

move, yoongi! fucking move!

his eyes search for an opening around taehyung. everything is moving so quickly, yoongi is afraid that his own breathing might not be enough to keep up. taehyung screeches loud enough to the shake leaves off of trees and prepares the next hit.

yoongi clenches his fingers into the cold soil and lifts himself off the ground, silently screaming at the excruciating pain that explodes down his spine. christ, how much force does this guy have? it feels like goddamn thor is slamming his hammer into my back!

he's the slightest moment too late, however. because taehyung's fist hits yoongi's gut dead-on before he can do a thing to stop it.

every last bit of oxygen seems to escape yoongi's lungs like a popped balloon, his eyes rolling back and wheezing like a smoker of decades. and suddenly everything is flying past him at an incredible speed—

no, wait. he's the one moving.

and he finally stops, rolling like a broken rag doll along the dirty ground, stray twigs and leaves cutting shallow gashes into his forearms and making his vision grow blurry. yoongi groans against the pain, and he wrenches his eyes shut but—no, yoongi, no, no, get up, get the fuck up, yoongi—

the crunch of uncoordinated footsteps forces yoongi to pull his chin up, trying to adjust to the pain and his wavering eyesight. taehyung heaves a low, guttural growl from the bottom of his stomach and god, if the sound doesn't make yoongi's heart stop.

"fuck," yoongi groans, trying with whatever energy he has left to push himself up from his palms, "t-taehyung...c'mon, bud, i—can't you hear me, taehyung..."

taehyung stops walking ten or so feet away from him. he stares at his fist, and from what yoongi can see through the minimal light, the skin is practically eroding from taehyung's knuckles.

he raises his fist again.

and then, midway through the air, he completely freezes.

the air is quiet, thick with anticipation, and yoongi can only watch as taehyung stands like a statue. he feels blood trickle down the sides of his face from his temple, and he only prays that he didn't hit his head flying practically halfway across the damn forest.

taehyung is staring at something beside yoongi.

he's staring at the shoes.

"ch—" taehyung sputters a string of coughs, doubling over and arching his back, almost like an animal in pain and fuck, if it isn't terrifying. he tries to speak again, but his voice comes out as a mere inhuman howl, limbs jerking erratically in some twisted evolution of sort.

"im—!" and then, something happens; yoongi has to squint at first to realize it, but after a few moments it becomes clear as day. the strange, claw-like appendages in taehyung's arms begin to sink back into his thin flesh, and taehyung screams—in agony, maybe, but yoongi can't do anything but watch the spectacle with wide eyes.

"ah..." and it almost sounds like the boy with bleeding eyes and cracking skin is sobbing, a strange collection of wheezes and low cries seeping into the night air. "ch..."

taehyung looks at the shoes again, something akin to desperation on his face.

"chim chim."

suddenly, taehyung clutches his stringy hair, screaming his lungs out to the point of insanity for even yoongi. it's loud and excruciating and god, the latter has had enough of this hell.

"chim," he whimpers one more time. his voice is unearthly and hollow, a chorus of tortured pitches and years in one simple syllable.

and then kim taehyung is running away—running away with his bloody fists and antagonized soul, running away with a monster in his blood and a suffering boy in his heart.

and yoongi is left to bleed on the ground.

==

/sips tea/ so hru :)
lmao ok i swear i didn't mean to give yoongi such a Hard Time™
ALSO shameless self promo i published this vkook fic called "youth" and if you want some nice wholesome fluffy friendship funtimes after reading yoongi get beaten the hell up by this should-be-dead subway exploder hit it uP BUDDY
tune in next time folks adios ily