—why does it feel like
i'm going insane?

OCTOBER 9:
JEON JEONGGUK

==

"jeongguk, are you okay?"

it takes a few moments for the words to register in his brain, mind clouded from blank thoughts and lips dry (he hasn't spoken much over the past week). jeongguk looks up, eyes locking with his college friend of two months—a rather attractive woman from college with curly brown hair and dark skin—whom he took to the movies from a promise made weeks prior.

jeongguk swallows, forcing a timid smile and shuffling through his pocket for the scratchy leather wallet he's had for countless years. "yeah, it's...it's nothing, i'm fine. hey, why don't you..." placing a few bills in her hand, he carefully backs up without realizing, "buy the tickets, i'll be right back, okay?"

"jeongguk—"

"trust me, i'll be gone for just a few," he interrupts, bowing his head the slightest in promise. "i just—i think i might have left the car unlocked, i want to check it real quick."

the woman chews her lip in scrutiny and sighs. "is this about wonchol? i know he's been strange ever since—"

"no, it isn't, don't worry." jeongguk nervously barks out a laugh, wincing at his loud tone, but continues to ramble on like a child caught stealing. "why would it be? that's so random, christ."

"well, i just—"

"give me like two minutes, okay? i'll be back before you're even halfway through the line." without waiting for an answer, jeongguk quickly turns on his heel and jogs off into the theater's parking lot, breath misty against the cold night air. his expression soon falls anxious—default, unfortunately, over the past several days—and, turning a corner to an empty area of the lot, he slouches against the brick outer wall.

"goddammit," he groans.

with shaky fingers, he takes out his phone and opens his photos, eyebrows knitting together in careful inspection. there are twenty or so screenshots of the news footage from days back—specifically the man in it—that he just can't seem to figure out. what he's looking for exactly, he doesn't know. but it just won't get off his mind.

just who is that kid in the video? and why is jeongguk the only one who can see him, even in photos? it's quite a tedious cycle, he's begun to notice; he shares the video, no one sees the boy. he asks his friends and peers, no one sees the boy. he shows the entire fucking city and—

no one sees the boy.

maybe the girl is right. maybe, maybe this does have something to do with wonchol—wonchol, a college acquaintance of jeongguk's who lost his girlfriend to the unfortunate subway accident from a week prior.

wonchol hasn't been the same since. it isn't grief, or denial, which would have been natural considering his girlfriend just died. he's just been...off—stumbling into dorms with ragged breaths and ripped clothes, indulging in alcohol far too expensive for any college wallet, skipping classes (which would have been normal, had it not been for the fact that he shows up for ten minutes of economics every day).

god, what am i doing? jeongguk's date is back there, waiting for him to quit moping about some boy on a subway, and here he is at the back of a movie theater on his goddamn phone. how insane can i be?

with an audible gulp, jeongguk shuts off his phone and shoves it far down the tight pocket of his skinny jeans. there's a bitter taste on his tongue, like he just downed a gallon of gasoline, and it's impossible to get rid of.

he jogs back to the theater and finds his movie date staring at him quizzically.

"turns out it was locked," he laughs, grinning falsely. "so? did you get the tickets?"

==

jeongguk's day is strikingly similar the following tuesday, a bland stretch of college classes and poor quality food from the bottom of his mini-fridge (god knows how long it's been there). he's yet to pay his monthly rent, but hopefully a convincing call to the landlord about how "difficult it is being a college student and, surely, you can understand" will be enough to suede him into cutting slack for a few days.

he doesn't want to call home for money, especially considering his parents aren't exactly financially stable and are about seven hours away, but it might just be his only option. it doesn't particularly sit well with him.

and of course, the person that has yet to leave his mind for way too many hours—and god, how he wishes there was someone who understands.

the sky is crying ice when jeongguk steps outside, taking a probably unwise break from a lengthy business essay, and he inhales with burning lungs. in the back of his mind, he warily debates the safety of leaving his apartment, considering the numerous shady headlines of exploding subways and crashing cars.

but that's stupid, isn't it? he's jeon jeongguk, for christ's sakes. some skinny ass psycho with dirty fingers and strange smiles can't hurt him.

but, it's a whisper in his brain, maybe, just maybe he can.

and halfway down fourth block at roughly seven p.m., everything suddenly goes to shit.

one moment jeongguk is carefully navigating down the otherwise empty sidewalk of fresh rain and neon lights, and then he's being pulled from the crowd and slammed against a wall.

"you were there, weren't you?" jeongguk doesn't register the man at first, but one look at his glassy, gray eyes gives it all away. "you were there! that was your fucking subway! tell me! tell me what the fuck happened that day!"

"wonchol—" jeongguk manages to speak, elbows digging into the cold metal of the wall behind him. how on earth did this lunatic find him? he's heard vague campus rumors of wonchol jumping random people, screaming at them to seek revenge for his girlfriend with him, but he thought those were all fabricated stories.

"you have to know, huh? you saw him too, didn't you? don't act like everyone else, jeongguk! please! surely you saw him!" wonchol screams the last bit, attracting the attention of passing people.

"kid, you okay?" a man yells, eyes widening. "what the hell? is he—"

jeongguk tries to respond, something along the lines of hey, please get this psychopath away from me, but wonchol takes him further interior to a dirty cross-section of back roads before either can say another word.

"wha—"

"that's your subway, y-you—take, took it everyday, didn't you? you saw, huh? yeah?! you saw the guy who fucking murdered my girlfriend!"

the guy. jeongguk's eyes widen, mind recalling precisely who wonchol is talking about. and then his breath hitches. "wonchol, i—wonchol, listen to me. i wasn't, i wasn't there to see it blow up, but i—"

"bullshit! bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!" wonchol steps backwards shakily in fury, looking up at jeongguk from under heavy eyelids. "no one seems to know! the police think i'm fucking crazy, but i know you know, you little son of a bitch, you know, don't you? you gotta! you took that fucking subway, goddammit!"

jeongguk opens his mouth to respond, desperate to tell him yes, he understands, he understands exactly what wonchol is saying. but then the seconds are suddenly flying ahead of him, and then the tip of a handgun is pointed directly to jeongguk's forehead before he can even realize it.

for a moment, the only sound is wonchol's breathing. and then jeongguk realizes.

"oh my fuck, wonchol, dude!" his voice is loud, cracking and incredulous. "g-get that gun down, seriously! i'm not—"

"no, you know what? i'm sick of fucking liars. you had to have seen that boy! no one else did!"

"i did see him, you fucktard!" jeongguk shouts, but quickly realizes his situation. "i—i mean, i just—wonchol, i'm not playing, i saw him, please! i know! he was wearing that white shirt and he was dirty and i just—" he's desperate, but that gun in front of him is doing nothing to subdue his panic. wonchol stares with empty eyes, lip quivering.

"bullshit. you're just saying that 'cause there's a fuckin' gun to your head."

god, how dense can wonchol be? jeongguk is sweating buckets at this point, muscles taut against his clothing in pent up adrenaline. "i'm not! dude, listen to me! you want someone to understand, right? a-and i do! lower the gun, c'mon!"

wonchol opens his mouth, probably to argue back again, but a loud shout cuts him off followed by the thick sounds of boots against gravel. jeongguk turns in horror to find a policeman with his own gun in the gloved fingers of his hands.

"hey! put the gun down now!"

wonchol curses under his breath, slowly putting his arm down to his side. "fuck off."

jeongguk squints behind the policeman to find that man who yelled earlier, and—oh, the irony of it all—he sighs in disappointment. yeah, wonchol had a gun to his head. but he also sees the guy who's been driving jeongguk insane for a whole goddamn week, and he isn't sure which one makes him feel more anxious.

"i said put down the weapon! raise your arms! raise your fucking arms!"

wonchol scoffs darkly, eyes clouded from frustration and sorrow. "you guys don't understand a thing, do you? there are evil beings hunting us. and they sure as hell aren't human."

what?

jeongguk swallows. what does that even mean?

"raise your—"

"heard you loud and clear the first time, officer." wonchol turns with a thin scowl to face the policeman, chest heaving from labored breaths. jeongguk finally shifts from his frozen position, locking eyes with absolutely nothing but god, he feels chilled to the bone.

and then everything changes, and suddenly jeongguk's shoulder is drenched in blood.

"hey! get the fuck back—" wonchol turns completely around and begins to sprint, thin tendrils of smoke leaking from the hot barrel of his gun. jeongguk looks to his shoulder, wincing as a very, very late wave of pain hits him like a gust of wind.

he's been shot.

wonchol is gone before the policeman can do a thing, the only trace left of him being the blood seeping through jeongguk's white shirt and the crooked indents of shoes in wet mud. he hears a few cries from behind the officer, a vague statement of taking him the hospital, but jeongguk's eyes are affixed to the ground in front of him, almost in a trance.

there are evil beings hunting us. and they sure as hell aren't human.

and jeongguk thinks that maybe, maybe that boy on the subway is one of those beings.

==

lmao the phrase "muscle bunny" gets me so hecked
yall may b wondering "o shit but bro, when kook gonna meet the others and ninja kick some monster ass???"
and 2 tht i respond
on a scale of 1-genghis khan how much of a dick is wonchol
thanks for reading!! vote comment do ur thing ur gr8