EXTREMELY HORROR THEMED!!!!!

Written for Halloween 2015 and yeeaaaaaah all violence and terror and death and stuff so just avoid this chapter if you dont want to read~!!! If you do like this stuff though, by all means read ooon~ ;D

“Go. You can’t help me now, Kibum.” Minho whispered, words hasty as he tried to convince Kibum quickly and firmly. He was dying, nothing to end the bleeding from where the broken trees pierced through his stomach and chest. There was nothing else he could do, but maybe, somehow, help Kibum survive. “It will get you too if you stay here. Just go. Let me save you.”

Kibum sobbed, shaking as he pressed his mouth to Minho’s, tasting blood that had spluttered from his lover’s own mouth. “I love you.” He muttered, breathless and yet still hesitant as he held Minho’s face in his hands, sniffling pathetically as he felt the muscles in his face grow limp, his body slumping towards the ground.

With the graphic image still in his mind, Kibum ran from the scene, dashing for the old house his senses told him was no good, was too dangerous to be a place he could possibly find refuge. But perhaps if he could somehow hide there, even for a few moments, he could somehow return to the road that he brought them there, brought them to the horror that now strode through the brush after him.

The door slammed behind him and he stumbled around unused furniture, everything coated with dust and cobwebs. Finding nowhere suitable to hide he opened a door leading down the cellar, onto to step onto nothing, falling down several meters with a loud thud. His legs ached, though not broken, and he whimpered in pain before he heard sounds, soft clicking, then quiet whines, almost like a dog’s.

In a panic, he scrambled into the darkness of the cellar, finding himself leaning against a wall that was soft against his back. It was only then that he realised the floor was damp under his hands and wetness seeped through his shirt and pants. Feeling around, he came across something long and hard. Lifting it blindly, he felt it with both hands, trying to make out a shape before he discovered that he was holding a bone.

A human bone.

Dropping it with a disgusted whimper, he wiped his hands on his shirt to hold them over his mouth to mask any more possible sounds he might make, and tried to think of better things. All he could think of though was Minho and the life they’d had ahead of them. How they had been so close to being free to be themselves.

But it was gone now.

He panted hard into his own hands, tears falling too hard and too fast down onto them, his eyes stinging so much he blinked several times to try and ease the pain. The putrid smell of blood and old rotted flesh assaulted his senses, coating his clothes from where he sat, fresh blood splattered across his front, specks on his face.

The floor boards above him creaked and he just barely managed to keep a whimper from escaping as he tried to listen out for any sign that the person, the thing, or whatever it was, was leaving or at the very least staying away from him.

But suddenly there was a crash and bang and rotten floorboards came crumbling down around him, a sudden bright light blinding him as a panicked cry ripped from the back of his throat as an inhuman screech assaulted his mind, ears ringing.

A large, six hand reached towards him and everything went black.