▪︎=|Dead Men|=|MinJoon|=▪︎
▪︎=|Undead|=▪︎

°•●•°

Don't look at me like that.

Don't touch me.

Leave me alone.

Needles and medication being pumped through your veins on a daily basis is unhealthy for humans. It could even kill them.

What consequences does it have on someone who is already gone? Someone who has legally been declared dead. What would this medication do with them?

Namjoon was one of those victims.

Having been killed in the hospital and resurrected not even a day later, saying he was livid was an understatement.

His skin was cold and pale, scarred from where he was stabbed from the machines that at one point kept him alive.

He wasn't the only one either.

The building they were kept in was like an apartment complex. They all had their own rooms, but the ground floor was turned into a hospital of some kind.

Doors and windows were locked at all times, and for them, it was even removed. There was nothing but the artificial yellow light bulb in the room.

Namjoon sits on his bed, staring down at his trembling hands. He hasn't been able to stop shaking, to stop swallowing dry saliva, or to stop shifting his eyes to the door. As if someone would come kill him again.

He's terrified. The doctors won't even tell him why he's alive or how. The worst thing is, he is still hurting. His throat still stings.

He flinches when the lock of the door clicks and slowly opens. Namjoon shuffles to the wall, grabbing his pillow with shaky hands and glares at the doctor that slowly comes into view.

The man tilts his head and smiles. "You're progressing nicely."

"Leave me alone."

"It's dinner time."

"I'm not hungry."

The doctor sighs and takes a step closer, watching as Namjoon moves to the other side and climbs off the bed, avoiding the doctor with as much distance as possible.

The other patients are mean.

"I have good news!" The doctor tries again, opening his arms wide. "We're letting you go!"

"You... Why?" Namjoon scowls.

"You're healthy." The doctor smiles wider. "We have others like you. Others who feel unsafe to go out again."

"You're lying."

"I swear to you, I'm not. The hospital owns a small landhouse not far from here. It's surrounded by forest, and has many rooms for many people. You could join them until you feel safe enough to go home."

Namjoon's scowl deepens and he slowly bares his teeth, hissing out at the doctor. "I'm... healthy? Look at me! I'm horrendous! I'm supposed to be dead!"

The doctor is unfazed by his outburst and just smiles at him, reaching out his hand with a small note. "This is the address. You can drive yourself, ask one of the scientists at the ground floor, or go home. Jinnae will have a backpack with your medicine. Remember, take two pills every morning."

Namjoon's eyes snap up to the doctor's eyes from the piece of paper and quickly snatches it from the man's hands before jogging out of his room, leaving the doctor alone.

He was always free in the facility. No one stopped him or kept him locked up. Most other patients were insane though. Much worse than him.

And with a hesitant frown, he takes the road. He takes his assigned backpack, hands the note to one of the scientists, and steps into the back seat.

He's strapped to the cushions, and sighs when they begin to drive.

What was happening to him?

°•●•°

"Another."

"Haven't you had enough?"

The blonde looks at his friend with a mean grin, tapping the cards in front of him.

"Another." His friend growls determined. "I can't lose again, three times is the charm."

"You said that yesterday too."

"Yeah, but-"

"After seven rounds." The blonde shrugs, grabbing the piles to shuffle them again while his friend sulks in his seat from another defeat.

"Tae, maybe you should give up." The blonde says. "You haven't won in days."

"I'll eat you."

"Hm. How threatening." The blonde looks up at his friend with raised brows, watching him roll his eyes and snarl.

The poor kid hadn't won a single game in days, maybe weeks. What else were they to do in a house like this?

The power was cut, so watching TV or playing on their phones was impossible.

All services were given. It was quite a mess. Most of the resident's hair had grown longer than they were used to in life, with the blonde's friend giving up on brushing it a while ago.

"Taehyung, what if we make a bet?" The blonde smirks. "Will that make you play better?"

"So you can win again and steal my share of the dinner? No way."

The blonde shrugs, as if his friend missed on a world-changing opportunity.

"Jimin, leave the kid be."

"You're no fun, Yoongs."

"Call me that again and I'll turn you into Van Gogh."

"Famous?"

"Earless."

There were a bunch of people residing in the large farmhouse. From the outside it just looked cozy and abandoned, with dull faded paint on its wood and brick walls, surrounded by a wide metal fence.

It kept them in.

There was Yoongi, who had been there the longest, for three years, hidden away from humanity. He knew the rules, knew the loopholes and broke them as often as he could.

Jimin, who had been there a while, and who gambled with his life. Even in death, he kept his addiction flowing, making bets with anyone who would take his vague offers of rewards.

Taehyung was new. He hadn't been there longer than half a year and has yet to find out what is and isn't allowed. He learned early that not everything is as it seems.

Then there was Hoseok, Yoongi's best friend and a man with a bite for laughter. He shouldn't be trusted though, with his past, his smile is easy to fake for a friendly one.

The black-haired rolls his eyes and shakes his head, waving them off like flies. "Dinner's about to arrive. Get the table cleaned up. You two are keeping it cluttered."

"In a bit."

"No, now."

"One more game!"

Yoongi glares at them before he disappears into the kitchen, baring his teeth with a guttural growl.

It's enough to quickly get Taehyung to clean up the mess of cards and have Jimin messily get his into a pile.

When it came to dinners, they were getting fresh drops from the hospital weekly. They had to do seven days with one stash, and if it were up to them, it would run out by day three.

Yoongi was the one that kept them in check. That made sure they didn't dig into the food like animals.

"Behave." He mutters. "I'm gonna go out. Meet the driver. Tell him to never come back unless he has a death wish."

"You're so moody, Yoongs."

"And you're too close to me."

"Don't be like that." Hoseok grins, pushing him forward. "You know your job, I know mine."

Yoongi glares at him, then shakes his head and slams the door shut behind him, leaving the other man to bounce against the wood.

The pained yell makes him chuckle from the other side.

He crosses his arms and waits by the gates, enjoying the cold breeze on his skin before he's going to be locked inside the house again.

He perks up when the familiar black car slowly rolls up to the path, grinding pebbles under the tires as it comes to a halt and the driver steps out with a nervous shiver.

Yoongi tilts his head, waiting for their dinner when the man opens the door to the back. He tilts his head even further, snarling between his teeth when someone he's never seen before steps out after being taken out of the restraints.

"I thought we were getting dinner, not a feast." Yoongi growls. "What is this?"

The driver avoids any eye contact and doesn't reply, opening the trunk to then hoist out two black bags worth of food.

The man glances behind him to the house, eying it before looking at Yoongi through the bars of the gate.

"Are you... like me?"

Yoongi tilts his head the other way. "Another one of your failed experiments?" He looks at the driver. "You expect me to mother him too? Like you did the others?"

The man scowls. "I don't need caring for. I'm... I'm fine."

"That's what they all say."

Yoongi grumbles as he takes a few steps back, watching the gate swing open enough to push the new guy in with them and throw the bags to them, and then quickly shutting the gate and locking it.

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the driver when the car speeds away, leaving the premise with the hopes of never returning.

He pulls the bags with him, dragging them along to the door of the kitchen. A strange door to enter through, but better than to have everyone suddenly go mad.

The new arrival stands there at first, looking at the disappearing car, and then slowly trailing behind Yoongi.

What else was he supposed to do?

"Do me a favor?"

"Hm?"

"Don't trust Hoseok. Or Jimin." The black-haired scoffs. "We already have to fight for the scraps with five of us."

"Oh... I'm sorry?"

"Don't be. What's your name anyway?"

"Namjoon. And... you?"

"Yoongi." The man turns to smile. "Welcome to the club of the dead."

°•●•°

Everything smells rancid. Namjoon shivers when he shuts the door behind him. A nasty, unwelcoming shiver.

He's immediately greeted by a new face, one that curiously sticks its hands where it doesn't belong, searching for anything valuable of use.

Yoongi is quick to pull the man away and push him back outside of the kitchen like he weighs nothing.

"Hoseok, back."

"Right, who the fuck is this? Dinner? Late brunch? Perhaps a midnight snack?"

"He's new." Yoongi grumbles. "Go set the table."

The man snarls something under his breath and then turns away with a twitch of the hand.

Namjoon glances around. The area they're in has the washing machine and dryer on his left, cramped up onto one another and a small trashcan on the other side, before you end up in the kitchen through a small open doorway.

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"Where am I?"

"I don't know." Yoongi shrugs, hoisting the bags onto the countertops and opening one, hesitantly pulling out what he believes to be good enough and closing the bag up again. "If I did, I would have escaped by now."

"Is that an arm?"

"A decent one."

"An arm?!"

"Will you please behave?" Yoongi snarls. "It's as if you've never had flesh before. Skin isn't as bad if you shave it."

With the way Namjoon looks at him, with how tense he is and how shaky his hands are, Yoongi slowly widens his eyes.

"You're serious?"

Namjoon quickly nods, quickly pulling his hands together and fiddling with his fingers. "I've never- I mean, I have, but I haven't--"

"It's okay." Yoongi interrupts. "It's fine. You're... really fresh then."

Namjoon again, nods, looking down. He heard of the dietary changes, and he was informed of what they were. The fact that the man in front of him pulled an arm so effortlessly out of a mysterious bag showed that life in this place wouldn't be as easy.

"You can help set the table. Meet the others." Yoongi says, grabbing a knife from the block. "Leave me here to prepare the portions. For six."

He doesn't have to be told twice. Namjoon walks out of the kitchen, away from the smell and into the dining room, where three other men were setting the table in their bickering.

"Hobi, no, see, it's quite the easy solution-"

"I don't see one."

"Just fess up! It can't be that hard!"

"Do you need me to shut you up?"

"Like you ever do."

"I don't say nonsense."

"And I don't threaten people by killing them again."

Namjoon slowly tilts his head, opening his mouth to speak when he's quickly interrupted.

"Oh! Are you new? Or... dinner?" The blonde who was previously arguing with Hoseok gives him a big smile and drops the tablecloth on the table.

All eyes are turned to him. More friendly than not. But Namjoon knows better than to trust friendly eyes.

"You don't have a smell." The brunette mumbles. "Why?"

"You don't have one either." Hoseok comments with a shrug. "None of us do. He must be new."

The brunette picks up the tablecloth that the blonde dropped and continues to spread and fold it out along the oval table, always keeping an eye on him.

Namjoon gulps and nods, rubbing his arms nervously when the blonde tilts his head even further and gets uncomfortably close, nearly touching him.

After a few mysterious humms and flicks of his eyes, the blonde smiles brightly and extends his hand as he takes a step back, returning to a less suffocating space.

Namjoon takes it, hesitantly feeling the dry skin of the man's palm.

"I'm Jimin! It's a pleasure."

"Namjoon..."

"That's Taehyung, but we all call him Tae! And that's Hoseok, but friends call him Hobi, and in the kitchen is Yoongi! We call him Yoongs." The man winks with a chuckle.

"Don't ever call me that." Yoongi yells from the kitchen, the sound of a knife echoing through the hollow room.

Namjoon shivers, a chill running down his spine. So many different people. Accents, voices, and no scent. They're all dead... like him.

"Where am I?" He asks again, hoping for an answer. To his disappointment, everyone shrugs.

Taehyung pouts. "No clue. I've not been here long. I'm still a freshling."

"A... what now?"

"Freshling." Hoseok repeats with a sly grin. "Someone who's been recently brought back to life by those parasites we call doctors."

"By the food." Jimin mumbles and crosses his arms. "They could've left me for dead."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"Being dead is better than this."

Taehyung frowns and quickly finishes rubbing out the wrinkles in the cloth, turning his head and jogging into the kitchen, disappearing to Yoongi without a word.

Namjoon stares at him, even after he's out of sight. He flinches when a hand lays itself on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about him too much." Jimin smiles. "He didn't like the way he died."

"Does anyone?"

Jimin shrugs. "Being murdered isn't too bad." He chuckles.

"Or poisoned." Hoseok grins.

"And you? Stranger? How did you die?"

Namjoon gulps and looks down, quickly taking Jimin's hand from his shoulder. "I was abused. Died of my injuries."

"Now you're alive again!" Hoseok exclaims with a bright smile, jumping forward and hopping along to a table with drawers, opening one and taking out the forks and knives. "Two, three, four... Five." He looks at Namjoon. "Six."

The two of them set the table like nothing's changed. With the only difference being an extra seat.

He can hear Taehyung and Yoongi talking in the kitchen. But all in all, there's only five people here.

"Where's the other one?"

Jimin looks up at him. "Who?"

"There's five people." Namjoon says softly. "Where's the sixth?"

"Ah." The man smiles. "Upstairs, in his room. He's... certainly a type."

"He means that Jungkook up there has a case of 'I'm not dead I swear'." Hoseok interrupts with a mean grin. "The boy is eating his own skin."

"He what?"

"It's what happens when you slowly go insane." Jimin shrugs. "Or if you don't find something to keep you sane."

Namjoon gulps. Was insanity a part of resurrection?

"Don't worry." Hoseok smiles again. "You'll be fine for now. As long you keep eating, stay healthy, and don't rot."

Hoseok pats his cheek with a mocking smirk, laughing softly at Namjoon's sudden scowl.

He trots upstairs, and Namjoon steps out of the way when Taehyung pops up behind him. Yoongi is not far from him, holding a pot that's still steaming.

Namjoon watches, both disgusted and intrigued, as Yoongi scoops two full spoons of the cooked flesh and blood onto everyone's plate, frowning when he realizes there wouldn't be enough for two full spoons for himself.

He shrugs it off, emptying the pot with a visible difference on the plates.

"He always does this." Taehyung grumbles. "He gives us more. He says he's past the point of turning insane and doesn't need it."

"Does he?"

"I don't think so." He shrugs.

Yoongi looks at them. "I've been eating less for a month now. If I weren't, would I still be here cooking rather than trying to tear you apart?"

Taehyung, again, shrugs, taking a seat at his plate and waiting for everyone else. Jimin sits next to him, and Yoongi takes a seat across from them, with Hoseok quickly running back down the stairs and plopping down next to Yoongi.

Namjoon grabs the free seat in front of him, looking at the stairs when heavy footsteps stumble down.

A man, even younger than all of them, looks at them. Heavy bags are set under his eyes, his skin pale and grey, with his hair a tangled mess.

Slowly, the man sulks to his seat and hangs in the chair, leaning his head onto his fist.

He only acknowledges Namjoon's arrival with a soft, inhumane growl.

Yoongi is the first to start eating, grabbing his chopsticks and taking chunks of the flesh one by one before everyone else starts eating as well.

The young boy, Jungkook, never touches his food, and Namjoon hesitantly tries to taste anything but the crispy skin of an arm. Imagining it's chicken works... fine.

"So, Namjoon."

He looks up at the mention of his name, looking at Yoongi with a slight smile.

"Tell us about yourself. As our new roommate, we deserve to know something."

Namjoon merely blinks at him, tilting his head and nodding at the simple request. Well, simple and easy are two different things.

"I died a few weeks ago. As far as I remember, I was revived for scientific reasons. I was placed on the heavy trauma floor and got... a lot of medication with me."

Jungkook perks his head up a little. Not enough to seem interested, but enough to know he's listening.

"I got a bottle of pills too. Supposed to take two each morning to stop... a hunger, as they call it." Namjoon pouts. "I'm... not sure what else you want to know. Or what else is relevant."

Yoongi shrugs. "That'll do. We'll get to know you more as time goes on."

"What medication did you get?" Jungkook asks softly.

The man's quiet voice catches their attention quickly, and Jimin even coos at his gentle tone.

"He's so gentle!"

"Don't provoke him!"

"Forgotten how he punched you in the stomach when you two met?"

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention.

Namjoon shrugs. "Something called Rheno... silience?" He hesitates. "No it's something else..."

"Rylesilience?"

"That!" Namjoon smiles. "Yeah! How'd you know?"

Jungkook scowls. "I stopped taking that two weeks ago. It drove me mad."

That's not the answer Namjoon had hoped for... He laughs awkwardly at Jungkook's snarl and continues his dinner in mostly silence, listening in on the conversations around him.

It doesn't stop Jungkook from staring at him, and later, after dinner, follow him and Yoongi up the stairs to the many rooms.

He stays at a fair distance, but Namjoon still feels shivers.

"This is yours then." Yoongi says, pushing open one of the doors to a mostly empty room. "Do with it as you please. I'm heading for an early night."

"Where can I find you?" Namjoon asks softly. "If... I can't sleep..."

Yoongi smiles back at him, a kind-hearted twitch of the lips. "Right by the stairs. First door to the right of it. By the bathroom."

Namjoon watches him walk away, awkwardly snapping to the young boy that stares back at him.

When he goes to grab his medication and unpack his backpack, Jungkook is fast to swoop in and steal the medication with one quick motion.

"Hey!"

Jungkook snarls at him, baring his teeth and running away with the bottle in hand, grinning when Namjoon goes to chase after him.

He can be an animal. Fast, annoying, but also cunning and mean.

Jungkook is quick to rush through the kitchen door and run outside, with the older man hot on his tail, making noises similar to his.

He feels Namjoon's fingers pry at his striped sweater as he hurls the bottle over the fence into the deeper forest, where it hits a branch and the medication drops out like water.

Namjoon looks at it, watching it fall and then glares at Jungkook's satisfied smirk, grabbing his collar with a loud snarl.

"What the fuck was that for?! I need that!"

"No you don't."

"That was mine!"

"You're dreaming!" Jungkook screams. "This! This house, this inside, these people! The rotten stench isn't because of the age of the walls, but from the bodies we've piled up!"

"You're fucking insane!"

"Just you wait." Jungkook growls. "In two days you'll see. You'll see the head on your platter. You'll feel the hunger. We're no experiments. We're the danger."

Namjoon's scowl deepens, and he slowly let's go of the boy as he fixes the holes in his sweater and rushes back inside.

He stays for a few minutes, looking at where his round pills landed in the grass, far out of reach.

Dreaming. What a fucking joke.

They wouldn't... bring him back to life just to put him to a permanent sleep. That defeats the whole point.

He slowly walks back inside and shuts the door, locking it out of an old habit and returning to his room, where he sees Jimin and Hoseok playing poker on the dining table, and notices Yoongi in his room.

It's not open, but ajar, and Namjoon can peek his head inside.

The man seems unbothered, sitting in a chair with his legs up and drifting off to sleep.

The curtains are slightly torn, and the walls inside are more aged than the rest, with wallpaper slowly pulling from the surface.

He moves on, snarling at Jungkook when he sees him at his own room, quickly disappearing inside and shutting his door with a loud bang.

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the childishness, growling at the boy from behind closed doors and continues to unpack, feeling even more nervous about his missing medication.

°•●•°

Jungkook scratches the skin, painting it in red with a twitch of the eye.

It's not his own. He found the bag. Took a torso. He licks his lips, hungrily dragging his tongue along his bloodied finger as he tears his nails into the thick skin.

An epidermis was only so thick, and to get rid of Jungkook, you'd have to be a pretty good runner with thick skin to bore him.

Those stupid doctors are still trying and still succeeding in tricking them.

Namjoon was proof of that.

The trauma department didn't exist. His stay at the hospital was a lie. The medication were a lie. Everything was a lie!

Jungkook growls and screams, throwing the torso against the wall with an effortless throw, panting at the sudden burst of hunger from the adrenaline.

The torso leaves behind a large bloodstain, and slowly, Jungkook stumbles towards it, dragging his fingers up to the place of impact.

His finger slowly stains in blood, and he writes the one thing he desires for all those monsters outside.

Die.

Hunger wasn't so easily defined. Neither was he. How has Yoongi stayed here for so long and still wasn't able to see these rotting walls and the corpses of their prey inside the house?!

They'd all stepped on and over them, seeing it as tripping over their own feet. The smell of blood stained the walls and the mold that stuck to the wood was the only other companion of life.

Was he really the only one who wasn't blind to their foolish attempts of hiding them?

Of hiding the monsters they'd created?

Jungkook can see it all. The truth. The inevitable nightmare they live in of a perfect house with perfect experiments who were set free.

Their horrible skin can't be saved with skincare. Their wounds and scars would never be healed.

Hoseok doesn't know it, but the poison hole still sizzles in his stomach.

Jimin doesn't know it, but the bullet is still lodged in his head.

Namjoon doesn't know yet, but his bones are still open to the air after the fall.

Jungkook knows it. He sees it. He can smell the fear every time they come to bring them another life prey that Yoongi cuts up like it's already dead.

It's a miracle the doctor's hadn't claimed it to be a Thanksgiving feast, but as a dead body rather than a live one, squirming in the bag as it begs to be saved by monsters who can't hear it.

Jungkook stays upstairs to prevent the truth. He doesn't like the death. The rotten rooms and rotten people.

He's not in denial. He knows he's practically dead. But he's alive, and hungry for the flesh of those doctors. That's why he doesn't eat.

Those doctors deserve his first meal.

°•●•°

"I swear, Jungkook is crazy."

"What makes you say that?"

"Very funny." Namjoon frowns at Jimin, who shrugs at the older as he places down an ace of hearts on top of Taehyung's ace of spades.

Namjoon decided to join them for a game after he finished unpacking, slightly curious as well as to Yoongi's earlier warning not to make a deal with him.

"He threw my medication out." Namjoon grumbles. "Over the fence."

"I have some." Taehyung looks up at him. "The same kind." He slides through his cards as Namjoon takes the stack with a defeated sigh and places a diamond two. "If you want some I can give."

"No." Namjoon shakes his head. "I'll ask the doctors for a new bottle next week. I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to mix them up."

Taehyung shrugs and grins. "Suit yourself."

"Namjoon?"

"Hm?"

The man looks at the blonde, and returns his sly grin with one of his own.

"Shall we make a deal?"

Taehyung's face pales, and he quickly shakes his head at the newcomer. Only here for a day and already...

"Depends," he growls, "what deal? And does it involve something for me?"

Jimin's grin grows into one of satisfaction rather than mean intent, liking the sudden twist of the innocent man's words. "If you win this round..." He taps his cards on the table. "I'll show you the secrets in the attic."

"But?"

"If I win, or Taehyung wins," Jimin's smirk widens, "you give me your part of the meal for a week."

"Really Jimin? You know what that did to me!"

"And look how strong you became off of it." He mocks.

Taehyung growls at him, baring his teeth with an annoyed scowl. He shakes his head again at Namjoon, practically begging him not to take it.

Namjoon pouts, looking like he's debating the deal before throwing his cards down, face up, with an even bigger grin. "No."

"What?"

"No." He says again. "I won't take your deal."

Jimin's smirk quickly changes into a mean and angry frown, his fingers twitching around his own hand of cards. "And why... not?" He grins.

"It's not interesting." Namjoon smiles. "You're playing with your food, when really, the trick is to play with us."

Taehyung widens his eyes when Namjoon looks at him, again shaking his head.

"Make a deal with me."

Jimin's angry grin grows into an intriguing smile, and he leans forward, slowly revealing his cards.

A full house.

Namjoon's lip twitches. "If Taehyung loses," he starts, "we get to look through his room for anything we like, and take it, but you have to end up with over 27 points."

"Or?"

"If you win, and I have less than 27 points, the same applies to me."

"And?"

"If I win," Namjoon grins, "I get to look through your room and take your medication as a replacement of mine."

Jimin hisses through his teeth. "You drive a hard bargain." He smirks. "Deal."

"Good."

As Namjoon goes to shuffle the cards with a sinister smirk, Taehyung looks at the both of them with a concerned sheepish smile.

"I'm not in this..." He says softly, standing up and leaving the table with a frown. "Sorry, but that's not a deal that I wanna be involved in."

"Suit yourself." Jimin grins.

Taehyung pushes past Yoongi on the stairs, who shakes his head a little. He's dressed in a torn shirt, one stained in red.

"Quiet down will you?" He grumbles. "I'm trying to sleep."

He tilts his head, trotting down and looking over Namjoon's shoulders.

"You playing?"

Namjoon nods. "He made a deal with me."

Jimin just smiles at the older, who glares at him with a disappointed glare. The oldest takes a seat and slumps down, grabbing a bunch of cards from the top of the stack and counts them one by one.

"I'm in. What's the deal?"

"I thought you didn't gamble?" Jimin smirks.

"I don't." Yoongi grumbles. "But that was before. I've... gotten past the whole rehabilitation bullshit."

Jimin smiles, patting his shoulder. "About time."

Namjoon looks at him. "The deal is stealing shit from each other's room if the other wins."

"He takes my medication, I take his bedsheets."

"No you're not."

"You said anything."

"Not my bedsheets."

"Killjoy." Jimin growls.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "That's no fun. Medication is necessary. Let's raise the stakes."

"What?"

The man's lips twitch, and he looks up at them. "You all familiar with the game of life and death?"

Jimin slowly tilts his head. "No?"

"It involves a gun, six bullets, and a lot of luck."

"Russian Roulette?" Namjoon raises his brows, intrigued. "Why would you wanna do that?"

"Honestly?" Yoongi frowns. "I hate being alive. Anew." He snarls. "I'm a monster in human skin. I want to die and stay dead. But doing it alone is boring. I'm sure someone here feels the same way."

The look Yoongi got on his face was more than sadness. His eyes were cold. He's in misery, in pain, and he knows something else.

His brows furrow and his finger twitch. He can't look at Jimin without smiling a bit and Namjoon with a curious shine in his eyes.

"Being brought back..." Yoongi scowls, "was the worst thing to happen to me."

"Why?" Namjoon asks, slowly laying his cards down. "I haven't... I mean-"

"I committed suicide." Yoongi says, interrupting the man before he can finish. "I put a gun to my head and blasted my brains out, burning my apartment to the fucking ground so none of my remains would be found."

Jimin's eyes widen in shock, being speechless, and looking at Namjoon, who only frowns in thought.

"They pulled my carcas from the fire and brought me back with medicine that can't explain how I'm alive. Those pills weren't helping me stay healthy, or feed me. They kept up the perfect illusion of a healthy recovery."

"What are you saying, Yoongi?" Jimin grumbles, sliding his cards forward and placing his hands on the table. "That we're delusional?"

"Yeah." The man snarls. "With those pills you are."

Namjoon frowns. "The ones Jungkook threw away?"

"Then you'll be next to realize it." Yoongi grumbles. "The offer still stands. Wanna play the game? I still have the gun."

The two men look at each other, brows furrowed in thought. Yoongi's words were confusing. It isn't until someone else jumps into the seat next to him that the silence is broken.

"Yeah!" Hoseok laughs, wrapping an arm around the cold man's shoulder. "Life is boring as fuck! Dying was more fun anyway!"

He leans over to Yoongi's ear, tilting his head up and watching his eyes widen and his head nods quietly.

There's something about the way he looks, and the sinister smirk on his face as Yoongi slowly stands up to retrieve the gun from his room.

Hoseok crosses his arms, frowning at them. He's holding back from speaking, his lips twitching.

He glares at Namjoon. His arms and eyes and sniffs as if he has a cold, looking at Jimin's forehead constantly.

The silence is killing. Hoseok and Jimin are quiet for the first time, having nothing to say to each other.

It doesn't take long for Yoongi to return with the gun, and Jungkook follows after.

They're all there, except for Taehyung.

Jungkook sits down, smirking at Hoseok and quirks his brows as the older scowls at him.

"Told you so."

"Shut up."

"I was right."

"So what?"

"You didn't believe me." Jungkook smiles. "Told me I was insane. Now look at that empty stomach."

"I can feel it now." Hoseok grumbles. "Don't remind me."

"Let's play." Yoongi smiles softly. "I already loaded it. We can start."

Hoseok is the first to snatch the gun from his hands, placing it at his head. His finger twitches, a smile playing at his lips, almost hoping for the bullet to hit him.

There's a tense silence, their eyes glued onto him with both fear and anticipation for the bullet.

He's shaking. But hopeful, as he pulls the trigger.

Nothing.

A click, as the wheel rotates but no bullet is released.

Hoseok pouts, almost sad. He hands the gun to Yoongi to his left, who smiles at his and places the gun to the opposite side of his head.

He wastes no time, pulling the trigger and frowning when nothing happens. He slides the pistol over to Jimin, who looks down at it.

Jungkook snatches it, scowling at the hesitation and not even giving him a chance to shoot before he greedily pulls the trigger to his own head.

He growls, slamming his hand on the table and waits for Namjoon to slowly take it from his hands.

Death. What was that even? If humanity could now reverse it...

With a hesitant smile, Namjoon picks up the gun, raising it. His eyes glance over the metal, shaking his head and sliding it back to the center of the table.

"No."

"You're the one agreeing to play."

"You said we were already dead." Namjoon grumbles. He glares at the youngest. "So then why does dying matter if we're already dead?"

Jungkook grins at him. "Who doesn't like putting a bullet in their own skull?"

The older quirks his brow, unamused.

"You wanna see how dead we are?"

"Alive to me."

"Stop taking the meds." Jungkook snarls. "Everyone. Throw them out. They're an illusion!"

Jimin frowns, scoffing and crossing his arms. "As if!"

Yoongi looks at Hoseok, who frowns at the mere idea. It's one of the first times where he's thinking before speaking.

The medication was something he'd been taking for... years. Even in the hospital.

What were they anyway? Now that he's thinking about it, there wasn't a label on them. They were brought new with the food when they knew the last pill was taken.

For all he knows, it could be poison... again...

Then again, he's also stopped taking them by accident. He's inconsistent with his medication, forgetting them sometimes days on end.

Now that Yoongi had convinced him to stay off, the mask on reality was starting to slip.

"What if we do stop taking them?" Jimin grumbles. "Will we be any better from it?"

Jungkook shrugs. "You finally see what you eat. You hear it. You feel... better."

That wasn't comforting enough. Jimin shakes his head and stands up, hands on the wooden surface with a deep, loud sigh.

"I'm going to bed. This shit has made me tired."

"I'll come." Namjoon mutters. "I have things to contemplate."

"Do as you please." Jungkook growls. "Tomorrow you'll see."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise."

Namjoon scowls at the smiling boy, turning around to follow the blonde to the stairs. It leaves Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jungkook to debate.

The youngest leans back and crosses his arms, pouting with a slight smile at Hoseok's hesitant grin.

"Don't you look pretty."

"I look like a corpse."

"Which we are."

"Living corpses." Hoseok grumbles. "I never knew how much that affected my body..."

"We never did." Yoongi sighs. "We couldn't know. We weren't allowed to."

Hoseok wished he could say they looked better. But the illusion wasn't with him anymore. Yesterday, he could have blamed the sleepless nights, but now...

His skin was pale. Grey and blue, his veins pressing against his skin and pulsing what little blood he has left. His face was cold, no warmth left to keep him sane. And his stomach had melted through his skin, the poison dragging down from his throat, leaving a long open scar that showed his muscles barely straining to each other.

Yoongi wasn't any better, with burn marks all over his skin and a large bloodied wound at his chest. His skin, although pale and grey, had red undertones, with a black crust of the burn. It's almost ironic that he looks like a burnt piece of meat, being the cook and all. It also explains why he moves so stiffly.

The youngest, however was different from the rest. Behaving like an animal was one thing, having been attacked by them was another. His body was covered in large claw and bitemarks, torn at his skin. His face, although still round, was covered in blood from the claws that cut through his head. There were so many sizes, it was hard to place what animal it was that killed him.

Hoseok sighs, deeper and almost more annoyed, glancing at the stairs before sinking down in his seat, pouting like a child. "This really hit hard, you know?"

"Hmhm." Jungkook nods.

"We eat alive people... that have been blocked out by the medication."

Jungkook nods again.

"We look like dead men."

"That's because we are." Yoongi comments.

"And we smell disgusting! Did the showers do nothing?!"

It's a sudden burst of laughter that both men can't push back, with Hoseok bringing a slight chuckle through as well. But really, his nose can't lie.

Yoongi pats his shoulder with an apologetic smile. He knows better now. And he has a plan.

With him, Jungkook, and now Hoseok discovering the truth, and Hoseok not yet seeing the outside, there was no need for them to stay in this abandoned house.

However, with this new reality also came the hit that they couldn't escape on their own.

Climbing the fence would be too high, and knowing the state of their bodies, dangerous. The gates were locked at all times until the new dinner was served. And even with their hunger for more after being starved with the amount of them and the lack of human they've been eating, there was no say in how bad they were going to be when they do escape.

They couldn't do it alone. Not with the three of them.

Yoongi knew most of it, the behind-the-scenes with the hospital and the ins and outs of the medication.

Jungkook has seen the reality the longest, and has his ways to get around the hunger that he's starved himself into. Every bite is saved for those that put him in this hellhole.

Hoseok doesn't know anything to do with this situation. He doesn't even remember what he used to do before this whole ordeal. Just that he was poisoned and died.

And with Jimin, Namjoon, and Taehyung quitting their medication, there was a chance to escape. To get out and see the world for what it truly became.

However long it'd take for them to see... They'd need to be patient. In a day, it'd all be different.

°•●•°

He'd never paid attention much to his walls. How bleak they were. How pale, and dirty. How the smell surrounds him like the plague.

Jimin sits at the foot of his bed, a set of cards in between his fingers.

His bloodied fingers.

He didn't take his medication. He felt disgusting. With his skin becoming greener and filthier with the minute he stayed awake.

The feeling of his head being light is almost funny. Laughable. Tearfully so. The bullet still sits in his head, lodged into his skull, scratching the bone and veins every time he moves.

How was he able to cry? After being so confident, so cocky, how is he able to cry and laugh at the fact that he truly is dead. That Jungkook was right. That Yoongi was right.

That he had never been reborn. Just resurrected in the same state he died in.

The clean dream of his proud clean room, of his fancy clothes and his shiny jewels all faded with the hour.

His clothes were torn and stained with blood and remains of guts and flesh that stuck to it. His jewelry was dirty and broken, most of the necklaces not even being able to close anymore. His room is disgusting.

The white and royal blue painted walls faded to an ugly yellow and green, just like his skin, and the floor was covered in critters that fought over the fallen pieces of his cards.

His bed was made, but even the sheets were bloodied and gross.

The smell. God, the smell.

With his teeth pressed tightly onto each other, Jimin crushes the cards in his hands with trembling fingers, wiping his tears with his free hand.

How could they? The doctors. They lied to him. They lied to all of them! They were never going to be released into humanity! How long were they planning to keep them there? How long until they'd die again?

Cruel. That's what it was.

There's a soft knock at his door. Jimin stares out in front of him for a second, before dragging himself off the dirty bed and twisting the handle of his door with a heavy heart.

Was it Jungkook to rub it in? Hoseok to play cards? Maybe it was Namjoon... For whatever reason.

The face that greets him is a shoulder, being engulfed into a tight hug. He recognizes the shirt, the deep sobs and the quiet apologizing as wet tears sink into his own.

"Tae..."

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

"What are you sorry for?"

Jimin gently wraps his arms around him, tightening the hug to stop himself from crying again. He can see the scars on Taehyung's arms, the heavy wound on his throat that goes all the way around and had been stitched up.

It hits. Hard. They had all died, gotten hurt, but Taehyung lost his head. Taehyung got his head stitched back on, with strings of flesh hanging through the gaps of each sown string.

"Oh God, Tae..."

That's what he was sorry for.

"I'm a monster."

"No you're not."

"I am!"

"No you're not!" Jimin grumbles sadly. "It's not your fault. You're still beautiful."

Taehyung's cries are heartbreaking. With his determined, strong-willed temper, Jimin had never seen him break down like this.

If they'd turn out this way... They could only imagine Namjoon's injuries. He'd arrived this morning. Given the medication recently.

How much would it hurt? How hard would the hunger hit him?

The hunger...

Jimin quietly notices the grumbling in his stomach, the pain in his limbs and muscles the longer it takes to think of something he could eat.

"Shit-"

"You're fine."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not."

Jimin's eyes quickly fall to the men stumbling by. One of them dragging and trying to move his limbs bit by bit, and the other grinning from ear to ear.

As if he'd won.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Jimin scoffs, shaking his head.

Namjoon gives him a sad smile, glancing down at his legs and drags himself further.

The fall broke his body hard. One of his legs was completely broken, with the cracked bone having pierced through his skin and breathing the air they have. One of his arms, his other wrist, and even a rib are out of place, all exposed to the outside.

How was he able to walk before he stopped taking those meds...?

Jungkook, who has his arm hoisted around his non-broken arm, is his support for walking, who takes his opportunity to rub in that he was right.

Namjoon doesn't know whether he wants to kill him, or kill him. He should have kept taking that medication. This sucks. His legs, his arm, his rib. He can feel his lungs in a tight spot, his stomach growling for more.

"Fucking hell... This hurts."

"No shit."

"How do I get downstairs?"

"I can push you."

"Don't make me hate you even more."

It seemed that throughout the entire reveal, all they could think about was their hunger, pain, and shock. There was a fear, and an anger that nearly took over them each at that point.

Who would do this to someone? For what reason?

"Tae..."

"Hm."

"Let's go downstairs."

"Why?"

"We need to talk. With everyone."

Taehyung hesitantly leans back up, gulping and nodding as some of the saliva leaks out to his chin. "My throat... I can't... I don't..."

"It's okay." Jimin smiles, cupping his cheeks. "It's okay."

It wasn't his fault he was stitched together.

They slowly part the hug and hands, with Taehyung being the first by the stairs, flinching when he hears Yoongi screaming at Hoseok in the kitchen.

It's loud and scary. Yoongi barely ever raises his voice.

Once they reach the cold floor, it's obvious why.

The bag is open, limbs spread out on the floor and Hoseok's mouth being covered in blood, his teeth gapped with flesh.

"You left NOTHING!" Yoongi screams. "Pig! Greedy pig! Your stomach can still save all that? What if I cut it back out?!"

"Fuck off!" Hoseok snaps back. "We barely have anything! I couldn't help it!"

"We are all starving." Yoongi snarls, pressing his finger to Hoseok's exposed throat, drawing an airy hiss from the man's lips. "You were the irresponsible one."

Hoseok snarls at him, baring his bloodied teeth and pushing Yoongi back by his blackened shoulders until he hits the wall with a loud groan.

There was a madness in his eyes. A darkness that was almost impossible to release. There was a fight. Humanity, or insanity.

"Seok?"

"Fuck you."

"Huh,"

"FUCK YOU!" Hoseok screeches, digging his nails into Yoongi's shoulders. "You and your leadership role, your fucking ego can't take someone else taking action before it's approved! You call me a pig? A PIG? You're the fox. A dying, lazy fox who won't care to hunt for himself."

Yoongi looks up at him with big wide eyes, baring his teeth with a loud scream, pushing Hoseok back and away. "This was for all of us! There are six of us! We won't get another body for a week!"

"Sounds like you'd better take your pick of the litter then." Hoseok grins. "I'll take the remaining leg."

"No you won't."

"Try and stop me!"

Yoongi hates it. He hates it all. The hunger, the shivers on his spine and the secret liking to Hoseok's insanity. He's done what everyone was afraid to do.

And now that he has eaten more, taken more, he's stronger. Yoongi couldn't beat him in a fight if he even tried. Unless he ate too.

He watches, frozen in place as Hoseok picks through the cut off limbs with a satisfied humming, throwing away the individual fingers and instead pulling out an arm, instead of the leg he wanted.

He twists his head with a wide grin and tosses it past Yoongi, watching it roll into the living room until it slowly comes to a halt by the two fearful men.

Taehyung looks down at it with big eyes, looking at Jimin and Yoongi before his eyes glue back to the thing that his body wants.

Jimin keeps staring at the fight, watching Yoongi pulling Hoseok away from the bag and pushing him against the kitchen cabinets with a loud shriek, screaming at him like a banshee.

Hoseok growls, pulling at his hair and whining when Yoongi fights back.

Their arguing had turned to a fight, where instead of insulting each other they were shrieking and screaming like animals.

And as Jimin watches, he slowly kneels down by the arm, caressing the soft, almost tender flesh.

"Jimin... I... We shouldn't..."

"Look at them."

He doesn't want to.

"Well be like that too if we don't eat. Fighting. Screaming."

"But... what about the rest of the week?"

"We'll figure that out later."

Jimin hesitantly sets his teeth to the edge of the arm, his tongue touching the cold flesh. As he tears off a piece, he grumbles. It's like overcooked meat, hard to rip, but juicy in the texture.

The flesh melts in his mouth, the skin easily tearing apart at his teeth, sticking between the gaps with every long lasting bite.

Taehyung slowly kneels down, looking at his friend. Flesh. Human flesh. His stomach growls. He's hungry. But human flesh.

His friend likes it... Maybe it's good?

He hesitantly tears his own small piece, whining at the strings of skin on his tongue, but hissing out at the flavor that courses through him. It's tender, yet tough, with a sour aftertaste.

The two glance at each other, taking a few seconds before digging into the fleshy arm without a second thought, tearing it apart piece by piece until nothing but the bone remains.

And with Yoongi still fighting his friend, Hoseok finally presses one of the discarded fingers in between himself and the attacking man across from him.

With his teeth lodged into the flesh, Yoongi glares up at him with big eyes. He slowly takes a step back, growling and chewing down on the digit, pulling the bones from his mouth.

"Good, right?"

Yoongi looks at him. "Fuck off." He mutters.

It was an explosion of blood, each vessel rich with vitamins for his taking.

What else was there to say? They fought so hard that both of them ended up with a few deep set bitemarks and clawmarks.

Even more so, what were they now? Dead men? Zombies? Failed experiments? Maybe all of the above.

Yoongi sighs and crouches down. He's exhausted. He's not sure from what, but he can't help but groan from the tired vision.

The corners of his eyes are blurry, the pivet only sharp. It's funny... like he can focus more. It takes less energy to see, but he can't see Hoseok from the corners of his eyes anymore, only becoming a slim blur of colors.

"I think... we should go to bed."

"No." Yoongi grumbles. "Yell everyone down. We need to talk."

"Already ahead of you."

Namjoon wraps an arm around Yoongi's waist and hoists him up with an amused growl at the crack of his bones, grinning at Hoseok's flinch.

It's Jungkook who slowly trots down the stairs last, grinning wide at the companions he's gathered.

Yoongi quietly glances out over his friends, sighing and wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, stumbling forward to the dining room table.

"Have any of us really believed in the doctors?"

"I doubted." Jimin mumbles, taking a seat. "But I never thought they'd lie like this."

"They turned me into a monster."

"Tae..."

Taehyung growls, baring his bloodied teeth with a snarl. "I'm an experiment. Victor's toy. Frankenstein. I'm a puppet. A monster."

Namjoon pats his shoulder. He's learned to step, slowly stumbling along the wooden floor with as little pressure on his broken leg as possible.

They sit around the table, each just taking in the damage.

"Listen." Hoseok sighs. "We can't make it this way."

"I agree." Taehyung nods.

Jimin glances at the man to his left, grabbing his hand with a comforting sigh. "The hunger is driving me insane. As if I haven't eaten in... years."

The warmth is something he can't feel. Skin on skin was as much of a feeling as Namjoon was gonna get.

"I suggest... we wait." Yoongi grins. "In six days, we'll get new food. Let's pretend we're fine, wait until the gates open, then charge for the car and get out. We could... finally see the world."

"And what if we fail?" Taehyung grumbles. "We could lose food for another week."

"They should decide when we do or don't eat!" Jungkook snaps. "They are our food! Humans are our food!"

"We are humans!"

"Not anymore!" He laughs loudly, grabbing Jimin's shoulder tightly. "We are dead. Dead men. Monsters. To them, we might as well die again."

Namjoon growls at the comment, shaking his head. He'd gone through that entire program of learning how to walk and talk, only for them to stuff him into this abandoned shithole and leave him for dead again.

He's up for the plan. It's risky. But better than nothing. And even so, he'd have to be patient.

They all needed to be patient.

°•●•°

"I'm not driving there, are you insane?!"

"It's your turn!"

"No way! I went last month! It's Himin's turn!"

"He quit! It's yours!"

The doctor scoffs when the bags are thrown at his feet, the keys to the car landing on top of it with a scuffed poof.

The audacity.

"Fine." He grumbles. "You owe me."

"Sure."

"Whatever. I'm off then." The doctor snatches the keys and ties the bags together, kicking the struggling person inside until they stop moving. "I hate this shit."

"That's why we take turns, Jin. Drive safe."

"Fuck off..."

The doctor drags the bags with him, making sure to hit every blunt stone on the way to the car so that the boy inside would stay asleep for a while.

He'd known about the experiments for a while. Personally, he's never worked with any of them. He's in medicine, making the pills that were required for each patient.

It's weird really. They treat the patients like they're schizophrenic with the stuff they give them.

However, it's not his business. He was looking for a way to earn money, and he got it.

He got to put his degree to use and pay for his own medication, but this is just weird. Nothing compares to the lengths they go to feed these dead men.

It wasn't secrecy, really. Everyone at that clinic died, these six just... had it worse, and couldn't be helped anymore.

With the medication they got to live through it without the pain. That was the goal. Some people just die too hard and can't heal.

The doctor slams the trunk shut, getting behind the wheel and starting the car with a loud sigh. No one looked forward to the drive.

The longer he sits, the closer the house eventually becomes. The doctor's heart pounds in his chest. He hates it. That rotten place with those rotten men.

A disgusting crime.

What else was he to do? He works for those doctors. He wasn't the one deciding what would happen with the undead.

The easy road quickly turns into small annoying pebbles, grinding under the tires as he comes to a halt.

A thirty minute drive to a place where he gets shivers all over his body.

Well. No time like the present.

The doctor quietly gets out of the car, opening up the trunk to take out the bag and making sure to hit the head again on the way down just in case.

Waiting for him is the man he's known for the past two years. The one who he's seen only 9 times.

The man with the scorched skin and black hair, dead eyes and a kind smile.

"How are you, Yoongi?"

"Been a while."

"Yeah."

There was something off. Yoongi's smile was gone. He had an aura around him. Something that reeked of death. His eyes were wide with a hunger that he'd never seen before.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You look tired."

"I am tired."

The doctor huffs as he drags the bag over to the gate, glancing up when someone else walks over, tilting his head.

He looks familiar. Yoongi had been the only one to greet them. He's probably seen his file around somewhere.

"Yoongs, how long until dinner?"

"When this asshole gets the dinner inside."

"I'm starving!"

"We all are, Hoseok. And you forget you ate the most."

"Have you finished it already? Two bags worth?" The doctor asks, opening the gate and dragging the bag along inside, handing it over to the burned man.

Yoongi looks at him, and down at his hand. "You know," he grins, "you are the only one who hands me the food. You don't drop it and run."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Yoongi frowns. "And I'm sorry you're the one to bring it this week."

"Why? What's going on? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?"

The doctor's concern makes this whole scenario even sadder. Thinking about it, it doesn't hurt. He doesn't even feel guilty.

He pats Hoseok's shoulder, taking the bag from the doctor and slowly watching his face twist into terror when Hoseok jumps past him to slam the gate shut.

It wouldn't do anything, the keys were still inside.

But the teeth in his shoulder would. The doctor screams out from the pain of a blunt pair of human teeth in his skin, flailing his arms and pushing the force away, only increasing the hurt when the teeth take a part of his skin with him.

Flesh, bone, blood. It's all human. It's all food to them.

One, two, three, four, count the numbers. Don't faint. One, two, three... Six.

With the blood soaking his clothes, the fabric sticking to his open wound, the shock hasn't sunken into the pain, but one thing he knows for sure.

That the thing this man is chewing on is his skin and his flesh. Dead teeth. Dirty teeth in his body.

He can't speak, but his eyes fall on Yoongi, who tilts his head at the wound and quietly pulls a small bottle from the man's coat.

"These will come in handy. For when you wake up."

"What do you mean? What is this? Didn't you have enough? I thought we gave you enough-"

"Shut up."

The doctor flinches when one of them leans over his shoulder, the bloodied one, from behind him, growling in his ear.

"I remember nothing but the needles and the pain when I was brought back. You make me think I was whole, not counting the bones sticking out of my broken body."

"Seokjin, I appreciate all you've done for us. The food you brought, the way you've treated us." Yoongi sighs. "But we have to go."

The doctor turns around, scowling at the men. "What... is the meaning of this?"

They looked more horrid than he last remembered. Covered in stained blood, their wounds open to the oxygen they tried to protect them from.

"Listen," Hoseok snarls, "I bet you taste devine, but we need something from you."

"Which is?"

"The secret to our life!" The man giggles, jumping up to him with a wide smile. "How we haven't died when we... clearly should have."

The open skin in his stomach is enough to make the doctor shiver from fear when the man digs his fingers through his open wound.

"And you think I'm giving it to you?! After taking a bite out of my shoulder, scaring the living shit out of me and ruining my clothes! You must think I'm insane."

"As a matter of fact, we do." The brunette grumbles. "If you don't wanna die, you should tell us."

"Why?"

"Jungkook here is rather hungry. He saved up all his hunger for you lot."

Namjoon's words are cold, harsh, and laced with a hunger of his own. If the doctor didn't start moving soon he'd be running from these monsters.

Seokjin gulps, looking down at his shoulder and back at the young man who finished eating his skin.

What did he get into? And how would he get himself out?

°•●•°

Seokjin had never seen the inside before. It was disgusting. The floor was covered in blood and nasty patches, the entire walls covered with moldy corners and filth from the insects.

"I didn't know you lived so bad..."

"You take the living when you're dead." Jimin grumbles.

They sit around the table, with Seokjin slowly writing down the process of the medication and all he knows about the resurrection process.

It was the easiest way. They were with seven, he was alone. They were hungry, and hearing Yoongi chopping the limbs off a screaming, now very much awake, prey was not helping.

He brought that dinner. That person. And now they're being turned into snacks.

"What's that?"

"Anesthetics." Seokjin answers. "It's supposed to make waking up be less traumatic."

"And that?"

"I don't know, honestly. I know it's used, I've seen the recipe. I'm usually making the medication you take. Or... used to."

"So you're the asshole sugarcoating our lives." Jungkook sneers. "I have a bone to eat from you then. You made my second life hell."

Seokjin looks up at the boy, frowning at him with a sigh. "I'm only following orders."

"And you made them."

"By following orders."

"And fuck you for doing so!"

"I had no choice!" Seokjin screams, slamming the pen down onto the table. "I had no choice..."

Jungkook growls at him, glancing down at the paper covered in scribbles and back at the doctor. "No choice my ass..."

Namjoon grabs his shoulder before he can lunge for the human, growling at him to stay back.

"Why did you do it?" Taehyung asks softly.

Honestly, Seokjin doesn't have an answer for that either. He did it for the money. But where they lived, how they felt. He was never busy with that.

All he cared about was making ends meet. Getting enough money to eat every week.

Just like they were.

"I'm not a rich man, Tae." He sighs. "I'm barely scraping by, and when they offered me the extra cash, was I supposed to just leave it?"

No. They'd have done the same when they were alive. It's not like they had much outside of what they now have.

Even in the room, then there was silence, it was never fully quiet. There was a tension that hung around. It didn't help that Seokjin was in danger at every turn.

"Tell me honestly." Seokjin grumbles. "Are you going to kill me? Did you want me to write it down so you could bring me back?"

"That was my intention."

Yoongi slams the knife into the table, the blood from the blade spreading in drops onto the rotten wood.

The group flinches, and even some of the dead men besides him are twitching at the sudden appearance.

"But," Yoongi growls, "you know the ins and outs. If we wanted to get out... You're our best bet."

"No?" Seokjin chuckles. "The only thing holding you back is that gate. I won't be of any use but to give you food, and outside, you won't be held back by that either."

"And now that you've told us that we might as well eat you."

"Hoseok!"

"What?!"

Seokjin glances up at them, nodding. The truth is that either alive or dead, life isn't gonna change. His diet and body will decay, but it's not like he wouldn't be able to work.

Why they stopped these men from living was just another mystery.

"He's right." He smiles. "And I could keep on living if I ate the way you all do. I'm not held back by cages, and I could still continue working. You see your intelligence hasn't changed, only your instincts to stay alive. You could still go back to your normal lives."

"I don't even remember what I used to do before this." Jimin snarls. "I was shot!"

"Your documents aren't hidden. We keep files on everyone."

"And what makes you think we could waltz into the hospital without being killed again?" Yoongi scowls.

Seokjin tilts his head. "Me. They know me."

°•●•°

If it weren't for Yoongi keeping most of them sane, they'd have fitted right in. Without the illusion of the pills, the hospital was empty and creepy. Everything was white, the only differences being the red blood on multiple doctor coats and the floor from people who had it slightly worse than them.

"I can't imagine living without a jaw."

"Hush."

Namjoon rolls his eyes at Yoongi's dismissal and crosses his arms. His eyes fall onto every possible patient, grinding his teeth at every doctor he sees.

He still wonders why they couldn't just... kill the guy. It's not like the house was bad, and now he's walking on a broken leg without any pain. Just a crack every time he steps on it.

Seokjin did say he could help with that though.

Speaking of the doctor, the man is just walking in front of them. No one seems surprised to see them. No one seems to remember them.

"Most of these doctors don't get to visit the manor." Seokjin says softly. "They don't know who you are, but think patients of mine."

"Aren't you... not working with patients?" Jimin comments.

"That's what I'm afraid they'll recognize."

Jimin frowns, slowing a step down to keep some distance from him. He glances up at the man next to him, growling at every broken step.

This isn't safe. For no one there. His stomach is growling, begging for another taste of a fresher human being. One still alive, screaming when they're devoured. His fingers keep twitching, his jaw tensing every time he gets close enough to someone to bite them in their shoulder.

"Seokjin, please, get us somewhere fast."

"I'm trying not to get us caught."

Yoongi snarls at him. "If we don't get something to eat, there won't be a way for us to not be caught."

"Or someone." Hoseok grumbles, eyeing the doctor's exposed neck. "Specifically you."

"We're almost at the office. I need you to trust me on this."

"On what?!"

"This."

Jungkook's question is answered with a push into a large room, the doors sliding shut behind them as the doctor takes a step back to lock them inside.

What... is this?

The room is completely white, with a tiled floor and glass walls all around them, and three newly resurrected people.

Jungkook screeches, clawing at the glass door, denting his nails into the harsh surface with a loud creak.

He presses his cheek against the glass, his drool dripping down every time he bares his teeth.

"LET US OUT! FUCK YOU!"

"Jungkook-"

"I'LL TEAR YOU APART! LIMB FOR LIMB!"

"Kook-"

"JIN!"

"Jungkook!"

The boy twists his head around with a twitch, Namjoon glares at him, laying a broken hand on his shoulder and snarls, growling through his teeth.

Hoseok tilts his head. The two are growling and snarling at each other as if they've discovered their own language. They're communicating in a way that shouldn't be possible, and yet, he understands it.

The tones, and the amount of teeth they showed and the pain of claws they used. Even Yoongi glances at him with a light growl of his own.

They all seemed to know. And even though the growling felt nicer to their rotten throats, they kept speaking. Why? They could understand each other this way too.

"Joon?"

Namjoon quietly turns his head. "Hm?"

Jimin looks up at him, holding Taehyung's nervous hand. "What do we do now?"

"We make them let us out."

"Are you... serious?"

Jimin glances at the three other patients, who didn't even seem to notice them. They're delusional. Drugged on the medication.

Hoseok sighs, sneering at both of them, rolling his eyes before he turns around to the nearest man and lunges for him, running towards him and grabbing his head with a sharp, tight hold, digging his teeth into the man's bald-headed skull.

There is no screaming. Just blood that sprays out onto his face, the bones cracking under the pressure of his teeth and the skin being torn away like chicken off the bone.

"What more can we do? Might as well eat."

The maniacal smirk on his face says enough, and Taehyung pulls himself out of Jimin's grip and runs over, dragging his own teeth through the skin of the man's neck.

The blood is like a temptation, and the doctor looks at them, with wide eyes, his heart pounding from the fear at how ruthlessly they went for an innocent man.

They... They were insane! Was this why they were stuck in the manor? Because of their cannibalistic side effects? And why now? Why here? They kept him alive... didn't they?

Seokjin gulps, still feeling the sharp bite from when he was cornered. There's an uncomfortable, almost sinister feeling running down his spine at the idea of turning into a dead man. Into one of them.

How long would it take? Was it even infectious? What if the illusion drove you crazy?

So many questions, and no one to answer them. No one but him to wait until it either healed, or he died.

Looking into the eyes of the two remaining men, there's nothing to say. But it was for their own good.

Seokjin turns away from them, entering the office next to the room, still hearing the shrieks from inside.

He sighs, opening the many drawers in the multitude of desks. They're all alphabetical, but sorting through them won't be easy.

Especially due to the fact that he doesn't know half of the men in there. Their... broken bones, torn necks, claws and wounds...

"Yoongi... By far the easiest to find. In the lower drawer, a suicide burn victim."

The others. He knew Jimin. And Jungkook. Namjoon was new. He was the latest file.

"SEOKJIN!"

"Busy!"

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

"I said I'm busy!"

"YOUR FRIENDS GOT OUT!"

"Already?!"

Seokjin slams the drawer shut, sliding the door open only to come face to face with his colleague. Dead... colleague.

Behind him stands Jungkook with a wide grin, teeth lodged into her throat and tearing it apart like a dog would to a squirrel.

He spits out a piece of flesh, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and growls, baring his teeth. "He could've used a shower."

"We don't exactly get days off." Seokjin mumbles, eyes wide and hands shaking against the walls.

"I don't wanna alarm you." Yoongi pushes past him into the office. "But with urges like these, we can't exactly live among humans, can we?"

"Aren't you human still?"

"Dead men." Yoongi mumbles. "Ressurected monsters. We belong elsewhere. And I'm refusing to put any other people in danger, but the longer we stay around people like you, the less we have a feeling of humanity."

Seokjin frowns, rubbing his wounded shoulder. "Even me?"

"Even you... These ours?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. A majority."

Yoongi tilts his head, leaning over the files and frowning when Seokjin comes to stand next to him. The sounds of the other's shrieks and growls aren't helping.

"I... I used to be a teacher?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"I dont think I was a good one."

Seokjin shrugs. "We found you, already dead. Burnt to a crisp. We managed to heal you up and... well..."

"I can only imagine my life before if I committed suicide. I did it so confidently too. And still I'm alive."

"Well..."

"Don't go there."

"Teacher?"

Seokjin flinches at the growl over his shoulder, the bright, bloodied smile of the man he has yet to know right behind him.

"I didn't know you were a teacher."

"None of us do, Hoseok."

"Hoseok..."

Seokjin opens the drawer again, moving through the letters until he pulls out a few files, tilting his head at the picture clipped to the one that looks the most similar.

He pulls it out, laying it down on the desk and sliding it over.

"I have you, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin... Who's the rest again? Right, Jungkook..."

As Seokjin goes back to flipping through the files, Yoongi takes a peek at the file of his friend.

Even Hoseok looks disgusted. "A salesman? Ew. What?"

"You do like to run your mouth."

"Shut up." Hoseok snarls at him, grabbing the files of the others that are already on the table. "Jimin was an accountant. Makes sense. He knows cash."

"He knows gambling."

"Namjoon was a cook."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

"You're not kidding?"

"Nope."

Yoongi tilts his head, taking the tempting opportunity to take a quick nab at Hoseok's ear and snaps his teeth into the man's skin, grinning at the growled hiss that he gets in return.

"I wonder how much information we've gathered about bites." Seokjin mutters. "Whether they're infectious."

"What?"

"If it is, and we let you loose," Seokjin frowns, slamming the final files onto the desk and shutting the drawer for good, "we have an epidemic on our hands."

It's something Hoseok hadn't really thought about. He loved biting people. The way his teeth would sink through the skin and the pressure as he tore through it to the deepest core. But a single bite, would it turn them into dead people?

Into the living dead?

"And with my shoulder..." Seokjin continues. "I'd say I'm the first bunny. Put me in a cage and watch me for the next twenty four hours. Call Jungkook to care for me. Doctor apprentice."

"Jungkook? Doctor?"

"You're joking?"

Seokjin shakes his head and turns to the door, looking out at the slow twist of heads looking back at him.

He's gotten used to them. Their wounds. Taehyung's scary appearance, with his throat leaking dry blood as he eats and drool that it can't filter.

Namjoon, with his exposed broken bones and uncontrolled cracks and snaps. He could probably snap the bones back and tie them together.

Jimin, with his blood-stained face and cheeks, red dried eyes and infected vision. Something he could only stimulate through the vague sides and hope it wouldn't get worse.

With the way he holds onto Namjoon, he fears that is the case.

And Jungkook. A doctor apprentice with claw marks slashed across his body and face, twitching and growling like he hadn't eaten for months.

"I have a proposition."

"Which is?" Jimin crosses his arm over the one tied to Namjoon's broken fingers.

Seokjin gulps down the nervous lump. "I can try to fix you. Not completely. But I can try to fix your bones, your eyes, and your throat."

Taehyung nods slowly.

"At least, in return, I'd like for you to stay in the manor. I'll fake a notice and new rules. More bodies, fresher bodies, twice a week at least. We renew the house, turn on the power and water, and add a new floor for your hobbies. However... I'd like to stay with you also."

"And why should we?" Namjoon snarls. "After you put us there, miserable for a week! Imagine the years they had!"

"I'm bitten. We have no clue how bad it can be! If it's infectious or not! I could be even worse..."

Namjoon sighs, looking down at the other three. He's unsure. The doctor had helped them get out, and now he wants them to go back? It feels like they're being manipulated.

"I think it's a good idea." Jimin grumbles. "As long as the things you said are going to happen. The house will be renovated, we get more stable meals, and we get clean rooms, each our own."

Seokjin nods. "I'll personally send the messages through to the higher-ups, but how long it will take is unknown. You'll have to have patience..."

"Can you keep working here until then?" Yoongi asks. "For the meal guarantee."

"Of course." Seokjin grins. "One bite won't stop me from working."

°•●•°

Maybe it would. Maybe Seokjin regretted working there after the bite. They still didn't know much, but the doctor had quickly gotten used to wearing black turtlenecks under his coat.

Anything to hide those black blossoming veins and the dying skin around the wound. He'd gotten paler, and he ate less and less.

More often than not, he cooked, and couldn't bring himself to eat a single bite. So, he packaged it, brought it to work, and gave it out to his colleagues. It helped.

The plans for the renovation were approved, and the meal schedule was now under his order.

They'd start with the yard, as for the men inside to get used to the new smells of new humans around, and after that, the upgrade above, to add more rooms.

And once that was built, Seokjin would move in and be in charge of the renovations inside with Yoongi.

But his body was decaying. And quickly. He noticed the pain. The stiffness, the hurting in his throat. This was different than being ressurected, because he hadn't died.

He was bit, and now slowly dying from the inside out. However long that would take was a gamble as much as how long he'd be able to stay.

°•●•°

"I don't like them."

"None of us do, but we're finally getting our roommates out!"

"I'm not sure if I like those roaches."

"They never paid rent."

"Jimin."

"What?"

Namjoon scoffs, looking out the window. He's been able to drive back and forth from and to the hospital, with another doctor and to Seokjin with help for his broken bones.

His leg, although still bloodied and open, was now no longer proudly showing a bone sticking where it doesn't belong. It had been corrected with metal pipes, forcing his leg to finally stabilize.

Jimin had been there to help, but neither of them liked the people in their home very much.

Humans. Humans with pulsing flesh. Few working together with Yoongi, going over blueprints and possible furniture ideas.

He did take breaks often, going for a snack now that they could, and for the human's safety so they wouldn't go home with a "work accident".

Hoseok had gotten him addicted to finger food, a perfect crunchy snack when the stress was getting to him.

It was nearly the worst it could be, with the new rooms being there, and all that was left was the decoration to the ground floor.

They were expecting a guest today. Their long awaited guest.

Namjoon was excited. He'd seen how sick Seokjin had become, barely dragging himself to work without dropping.

He smelled of death, rotting away bit by bit like a tree with too many fungi.

Jungkook had been waiting by the door for hours at this point, with Taehyung playing a new card game with him to keep him entertained.

The doctor had been so kind as to fix his pipes, finally stopping the whistled breathing and dripping saliva in between the gaps.

Hoseok sits by Yoongi, rolling his eyes at the many words coming out of his mouth to the many delicious snacks around them.

He flinches when the door slowly creaks open, a smile growing on his lips when their newest roommate comes stumbling through the door.

He looks at them with tired eyes, clutching his throat and heart with both hands. The corners of his lips twitch. "Please tell me my bed is ready."

"Welcome home."

"Let me bring you!"

"No you won't."

"You never let me do anything fun."

Yoongi pushes Hoseok away, grinning when he hits the wall, and gently takes the hand Seokjin has on his heart.

The doctor's heartbeat is fast, unnaturally so, with it skipping beats and stopping the breath in his lungs.

"You'll be fine."

"Bed..."

"Hmhm."

"Please..."

"Learn from his manners, Hobi."

"Fuck off..."

Hoseok chases after them, pouting when Yoongi growls at him to stay back. Nearly everyone jumps up to see how the doctor is looking, but Yoongi is quick to take him away.

Even from behind, Taehyung tilts his head, glancing at the man's pale and dead skin.

How would they now share their many snacks with a new roommate? If it were up to a few of them, it wouldn't happen.

No one but Seokjin to find his place in the pack when he'd wake up. Hopefully after the humans were gone and the house would be finished.

But that was a gamble they'd gave to take.

▪︎=|THE END|=▪︎

Questions of the Chapter:

Is there a rule to becoming an undead?

What was Seokjin's role in the hospital?

Why was Namjoon so hesitant at first?

What happened before and after they stopped the medication?