She had ran. Yeuna had held Hoseok’s blood crusted hands in her own trembling digits. She had shaken her head the first time he had croaked at her, throat constricting in fear. But he had glared at her through hazy eyes and demanded that she run. So when his hand began to slip out of her own, Yeuna had stood up on unsteady feet, her bare and raw soles hitting the dirt as she fled as fast as she could on her injured leg. She ignored the fact that her body practically screamed in protest, dark blood staining the dust.

Namjoon hadn’t chased her. He had simply watched her, a heavy sigh leaving his plump lips as the darkness engulfed her wobbling form. Her small figure was swallowed into the shadows of the night.

Yeuna felt like she was being chased by sunset hair and deranged cackles all over again. The nebulous clouds cut off any source of light that the crescent moon could emit. The asphalt and blinding lights of the big city that she had grown accustomed to were replaced by empty fields and lines of trees that stretched farther than her blinded vision could see. There was no buzzing of cars passing on freeways, nor did the air smell heavily of the stenches that the city life brought. No, when Yeuna ran, the fresh air hurt her bursting lungs.

She was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, not a single flash of headlights to light up the darkness that seemed to choke her like a vice.

Yeuna didn’t know how long she ran, but her feet felt numb and she was sure by now that they were raw, leaving a bloody trail in their path. If Jungkook wanted to go back on his word of letting her go if Hoseok survived (which she didn’t doubt he would do), it wouldn’t be that hard to find her. And with how sticky and warm her leg felt, she was sure it was still bleeding as well.

She didn’t know how long she ran, but she was sure to collapse any minute now.

His hands had yanked her out of the darkness, and as Yeuna’s blurry vision gazed into eyes the color of dead autumn leaves, she felt as if she had fallen into a trap much worse than the wisps of black night that clawed at her frozen skin. He reminded her of trees stripped bare of their luscious color and bent over as the winter wind laid its chilling touch upon nature. He reminded her of bitter coffee and frostbite. And his lifeless, chilling smirk reminded her of everything she had lost.

If Jungkook was Death, then he was the catalyst.

He was a dangerous man.

The worst part was that, with her swollen cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy, and bruised bones brittle and ready to give out any minute, Yeuna could not scream. She could only slump her numb frame against him, his pale hands gripping her arms too tightly and adding to the nebulas that now littered her once flawless skin.
His hair wasn’t blonde anymore; it was a soft shade of pink that almost matched the color of his small lips. The same lips that parted, breathing chillingly cold air into her ear has he leaned forward and whispered, “I caught you, kitten,” his voice as crisp as the night air.

The last thing Yeuna saw as the man pulled back, his dead eyes humorless, was the stars that shined a bit too brightly, mockingly betraying the sense of hopelessness she felt as her heavy lids finally shut, the pain disappearing with the overwhelming despair.

Yeuna woke to the sun warmly caressing her face, the mattress under her soft and a thick blanket wrapped tightly around her.

She groaned, her body aching as she squinted her eyes open to take in the familiar scenery.

She was in her room.

She sat up quickly in her frenzied state as memories from the night before hit her throbbing head like a train. Her wide eyes scanned the room in a panic as she threw off the covers, cold air hitting her bare legs. Her gunshot wound and torn feet had been bandaged thoroughly, and she ignored the pain the screamed at her to lay back down when she stood.

Yeuna limped through her small apartment, heartbeat erratic as she opened every door to inspect every square inch of her quarters. And when she was sure that there couldn’t possibly be another soul hidden away in unknown spaces, she had practically dived for her bright pink cellphone that she had spotted on the kitchen counter.

How the hell it had gotten there anyway was the last thing on her mind. All she could think about was notifying the authorities as delicate fingers hastily entered the pass code. But then she noticed the hundreds of worried texts she had received from Shinhye, and she had almost smiled until a text from an unknown number caught her eye.

From: Unknown

Did Suga treat you well? Wish we could have played for longer. We’ll always be watching you babycakes~

Her breath hitched, hands shaking as she gripped the phone till her knuckles turned white.

Jimin had her number, but more importantly: they were watching her. They knew where she lived and they had been in her home. One of them had laid her unconscious form in her bed and wrapped her wounds, watching her while she slept. Jungkook’s chilling words seemed to echo in her mind.

“And I hope you’ll keep whatever you didn’t see to yourself. It would be quite unfortunate if you were to tell anyone.”

Yeuna leaned against the counter for support, suddenly feeling nauseous.

She couldn’t contact the police. She couldn’t ever tell anyone. They would always be watching her, waiting for her to give them a reason to kill her. And even if by some miracle she could survive long enough to make it to the police station, she wasn’t a selfish person. Wouldn’t that just place the people she cared about in danger? Hoseok had nearly died just by being associated with her; she couldn’t