Hanyang 1698

Taemin prowled about the dirt streets of the city. He watched the people conducting the business of their daily lives. He made his way to the rooftops where he could get a much better view of the people. He watched the young and the old, the sick and the healthy. It was the old and the sick that he spent more time around, they were the easiest to obtain. However, there were some special times in which he could obtain a young and healthy person. He delighted in these receptions, for they made him stronger.

He padded along the rooftop, watching the streets and waiting. He did not have to wait long; an out-of-control carriage barrelled down the main street. It gained speed so quickly that people could hardly get out of the way. He watched as one young man scrambled, but ultimately failed to clear the street. The carriage slammed into the man and over his prostrate body. Taemin’s ears perked up at the sound of the man’s blood and life leaving his body. Taemin jumped down from the roof and approached the dying man.

He spoke to the man softly, so as to not draw attention to himself, “You are about to die young man. Do you know this?”

The man nodded weakly, choking on his own blood.

“What is your name young man?” Taemin asked. Knowing the names of the dead allowed him to acquire them.

“Ch-ch-choi M-M-Minho,” he stuttered.

“Well, Choi Minho.I will now commandeer your soul and keep it safe. How does that sound?”

The man nodded, knowing that this was probably his safest bet, as he was going to die.  

Taemin closed his eyes feeling for the man’s soul. Every soul felt different to him. Some were cold and distant, some warm and full of love, and some were content and happy that they had fulfilled their lives. This one, however, was different. This one was… old. This soul did not fit a man of this age. He grabbed hold of the soul and prepared for it to leave this body, but when Taemin tried to take it, it wouldn’t leave. He pulled on the soul, but it would not budge.

At this point, the people had realized that the threat was gone and that Minho was dead. They approached him slowly, and one man put his ear to Minho’s chest. “The boy is gone. Let’s get him to the coffinmaker.” The people forced Taemin to move.

Taemin slinked into the alley and watched as they took the body away. He followed them silently as they made their way to the coffinmaker’s. They took the body into the house and laid it on the table. Taemin jumped onto a wood pile outside the window. He moved into a position in which he could properly see the body on the table.

At this point the coffinmaker began taking measurements of the body. He took the shoulder width, the height, and the weight of the body.  

Taemin waited patiently as the coffinmaker finished up taking the measurements. As the man disappeared into the back of his house, Taemin saw something peculiar.

The body on the table began to stir. The body sat up and looked around. It shrugged as it realized that it had been there before.

Taemin heard rustling from the back of the house and watched as the coffinmaker came back to the main room.

The man stood there, almost shocked, but then smiled, “Minho,” he said, “you came back faster this time. Amusing.”

“Let it alone Jinki. I just had an ordeal.”

Taemin was awestruck. This was something that he had not seen in hundreds of years. This was an immortal, and by all accounts, he shouldn’t exist. He turned his attention back to the conversation that was unfolding through the window.

“What happened to you Minho?”

“Well, as I was shopping at the market, a carriage barrelled through the streets and over me,” Minho paused as he remembered the events that had just transpired. “Probably the most painful of all of my deaths.”

“It sounds that way. I’m sorry that you had to suffer.”

Minho looked at him, “I also met a collector.”

Jinki’s head shot up, “A collector? What are they?”

“They’re demons that roam the earth collecting the souls of the recently deceased. They usually take the forms of ravens, but every one percent of them has been thought of to be a cat. I hadn’t thought that to be true until today.”

Jinki looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

    “The cat that I met on the street, as I lay dying, tried to collect my soul. He ran off when the crowd appeared.”

    “He actually tried to take your soul?” Jinki asked, amazement tinged the edges of his voice.

    “Yes, but he couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him.”

    Taemin sat there listening intently to the conversation through the window. He was so absorbed in it that he didn’t hear the person approaching from behind him until they were on top of him, wrestling him into a burlap sack. He barely caught the last part of the conversation before he was dragged away.

    “...have to leave, Jinki…”

    Taemin clawed at the edges of the sack, trying to tear a hole from which to escape. By the time he had made a sufficient enough gap, the person carrying him placed him down on the table, covering the hole.

    “What should we do with it?” he heard one voice said.

    The other answered cynically, “Eat it of course. We are starving to death and the King won’t help his people.”

    Taemin rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time that people had tried to eat him, and he knew this wouldn’t be the last. He quickly morphed into human form, ripping open the sack and taking his captors by surprise. He spun around summoning his powers and touched his hand to the closest man’s forehead. He pulled on the soul of the man, dropping him to the ground quickly. He turned to do the same to the other, but the man ran out of the room and down the dirt road.

    Taemin made a move to turn back to cat form but before he could, he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall. He hadn’t seen his reflection since the turn of the century, and his appearance surprised him. His irises glowed lavender around his cat-like pupils. His hair was a cotton candy pink, a stark contrast to the pitch black of his cat fur. Taemin’s human form was something to get used to, but he figured that he could use it to find out where the immortal had gone. Since the man was familiar with the cat form, he could use this human form to his advantage.

    Taemin went to Minho’s last known location. He found Dr. Jinki in the back of his office and began to question the kind doctor.

    “I-I-I don’t know where he went!” the doctor said. “He only told me that he was going to get out of the country for a while!”

    Taemin scoffed, “I doubt he neglected to tell his only confidant where he went. Now where did he go?!”

    Jinki was silent.

    Taemin smiled devilishly. He charged up his ability and reached for Jinki’s soul.

    The doctor squirmed, and his face twisted in a grimace. He could feel Taemin’s vice-like grip deep within his being.  He felt the sheer power of the man before him. He was both inquisitive and full of sheer terror.

    Taemin clamped down a little harder on Jinki’s soul and tugged just a bit. He felt the threads of the spirit start to fray and tear away from the mortal body. It wasn’t a particularly strong soul, but it was worthwhile. He smirked, feeling the man break before him was something he always took pleasure in.

    Jinki shuddered as Taemin inched toward his ear.

    “Do you want to tell me what you know now, or do you want me to finish ripping this out of you?”

    JInki nodded nervously. “H-H-He went north, to China. P-P-Please. That’s all I know.”

    Taemin released his grip on the doctor’s soul and stepped back. “Thank you Doctor, you’ve been most helpful.”

    Jinki stopped him on his way out the door. “I’m not up for helping you, I will say this. Minho is a professional runner. You’ve got a long journey ahead of you.”

    The Collector grinned, “I look forward to it.”