A bump in the night, dreams of disgusting monsters and creatures of the evening was what once gave Chanyeol nightmares. A blurry dream of something dark, snaking around the shadows of a bedroom, his talons long as he greeted you. A disfigured body with a head that would twist repulsively. A split jawed grin that seemed to only bring death, fear and horror. Luminous eyes that burned like the embers of a dying fire. He was hungry, and much like giving a dying fire wood to survive, he needed you. He lives of your fear. Seething and bleeding through the mind like a black oil slick across your eyes. He fogs your mind. He spreads his claws across your sleeping figure, prickling the skin into a cold sweat as you writhe, and twist, and turn.

And as you would waken, your vision blurred againt the darkness, your lips dry as you would turn, he would grin. A white, sharp grin with those eyes. And you would know in that instance he would catch you.

And then he would wake up. Chanyeol would awaken with a sharp cry of horror and tear stained eyes, clenching the sheets of his cotton bed. Alone in the resentful darkness of that same terrifying bedroom. He would bubble, and sob as his eyes scanned the darkest parts of the room. And in that same moment, he would feel the warm palm of his mother. Her gentle hands caressing his hair as she sat down softly beside him. Her warm, caramel eyes that seemed to reflect gold would watch him intently, a small comforting smile spreading across her face. She was golden, a bright light against the darkness. She would light up those frightening corners of darkness with her glow. She would keep the monsters away, she would embody the light he needed in his life as he would fall into a slumber once more.

Not this time. He awoke to the shrill screams of death. As red embers relfected from the window pain his heart began to panic. Scurrying from the once warm arms of the bed, he tore the curtains from the wall, letting the red embers of fire reflect in his vision. Screams of horror cut through his hearing as people ran, fleeing the bitter flames that welcomed them into death. The small ashes tapped the glass, as if to invite Chanyeol forward, inviting him to die. The dry buzz of aircraft loomed overhead. There engines humming loudly as bombs clicked free from underneath, promising death. War had broken out. 

Even as a child, war had always been present in Chanyeol's life. A war that left destruction in its wake as it lit up the cities in a horrific fashion. Molten flames that left behind nothing but ash and derelict homes. Tearing families apart, desolating the homes of thousands, leaving the world in an apocalypic, torn mess.

As Chanyeol watched in horror he felt his body grow limp, his fingers grew numb as his jaw grew slack. He could see soldiers now. His face lit up as he watched them. There strong frames pacing through the streets. There helmets low as there visors reflected the red light. 

For a small moment, hope blossomed in his chest. They could be saved. Yet as he watched, things began to swiftly change. People ran through the streets, there bodies engulfed in flames as they screamed and writhed in pain. Children screamed in terror, children he knew, friends and neighbours fled the streets. And then the soldiers began to shoot. There guns lighting up the streets as bullets desimated people by the dozen. And then Chanyeol saw the blazoned red mark embedded into their uniforms. They were the enemy.

Backing away from the window, Chanyeol's mouth grew dry, as much as he wanted to scream in horror, no sound seemed to leave his throat. He choked sadly, screaming to the ceiling as the aircraft droned overhead. And at once he felt the soothing touch of his mothers hands. His screams quickly cut off as he saw her face, his eyes full of hope as he latched around her waist, his sobs short as he hid against her chest. Her scent was comforting, familiar and warm as she caressed him, soothing him against her lap.

Crashing echoed through the house as the doors were torn down. Soldiers tore through the house in there heavily clad uniforms, there boots thumping against the old wooden floors. And Chanyeol knew in that moment. They were going to die.

The door began to rattle, the metal lock groaning against the weight of more than one man. Chanyeol felt sick, bile rose in his throat as he sniffed. And as they piled through the door, there screams of success splitting the air, Chanyeol felt everything leave him. The will to live, the fear, the horror. 

And as the creature of the dark stretched out its arms to welcome him into death, his talons long and sharp as they shaped around his small frame, he no longer felt fear. He felt cold and grey as his own hollow eyes watched the red embers the demon. Stretching out a hand, Chanyeol began to place his own, small trembling fingers into his.

-

A slap to the face was what woke Chanyeol. His eyes fluttered open wide as his breathing hitched. Feeling his clammy body from the sheets, his hand immediately flew for a knife. Tearing the small blade from underneath the pillow he glanced around frantically, his eyes wide as his heart thumped against his rib-cage.

His own eyes met the cold pair belonging to his room-mate. He gazed back coldly at Chanyeol's stiff frame and raised an eyebrow. His mouth forming a stiff line. 

Chanyeol felt his body flop as he brushed the hair from his eyes. That was the one thing his room mate was annoying for. His wake-up's were brutal.

'Get up. We have training. And im not waiting on you if your going to slack.' He spoke bluntly, his words like stiff cotton as his cold eyes judged Chanyeol.

Chanyeol didn't speak. He gazed at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the patterns as his chest heaved uncomfortably, knitting his fingers into the beds material, he exhaled. It had been a while since he dreamt of that.

He forced his frame from the bed and sighed loudly, his bones felt numb and stiff as he stretched. Glancing around, he felt grim. As usual, his room made had the place looking spotless. The cracked and broken floor, despite being unreparable, had been swept and cleaned. The grey metallic table was as shiny as it could be, besides the spots of rust and abnormally bent legs. The tin canisters from which they normally ate had been washed as best as they could be, even the blackened areas looked a little better. Unfortunately nothing could be done with the walls. The grey concrete had been dented, broken and bashed repeatedly. Normally it was caused by enemy bombs, debris that would come hurling through the window during night raids.

Frowning, Chanyeol too noticed that the windows had not been repaired. Square pieces of plywood left certain parts of the room in darkness as they attempted to keep the polluted air from out side, outside.

Glancing through window, his frown deepened as he witnessed the thin layer of fog that left a haze across the buildings. Pollution. Often crosswinds would spread the infected air towards the cities from the homefront. Intoxicating the lungs of the young, the old, and the sick. Turning, Chanyeol was immediately thrown a gasmask.

He scowled deeply at the glass face and glanced upwards as his room-mate waited impatiently. 'Although its only a thin haze, its better to be safe than sorry' he mused as they exited the small apartment.

The streets were as derelict and empty as usual. Grass had grown high between the cracks in the old pavements, tickling his legs as they paced quickly. Old cars lay at the side of the road, there engines flat and their wheels rotted. Most of the metal of the body had been stolen, forged to make essentials such as pots and pans, or simply flogged off for what little money or ration cards that could be bought.

He breathed heavily into his mask, the sound filling the stagnany air as he dodged a bent lamp-post. His room mate seemed to turn then with a disamused expression. 'I hear so much about you. About your skills on the battlefield. About you being such a good soldier, yet you can barely dodge a lamppost?' he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Chanyeol scowled deeply, his long legs easily sidestepping debris from the road. He had chosen to joint he army for only one purpose. On that horrible night long ago, he thought he was going to die. He should of died. He had been dying beside his mother. He had watched the warmth leave her eyes. And in that moment he had knew. He had known that if he could possible survive, he would seek out those who caused all this horror. All this pain, he would make them suffer.

His heart grew un-settled as he paced. He would be successful soon. Soon he would be in enemy territory. Behind enemy lines.

Park Chanyeol had became an important man. He would be the man that would topple an empire. End a war that had lasted hundreds of years. He would be heralded a hero. Grinning, Chanyeol kept his head low. This was what he wanted.

-

As they had arrived at army barracks, neither himself or his room-mate had spoken a word. He watched his back carefully as they paced between the distraught buildings. Nobody lived this close to the border between the countries. It was a death wish. As they approached, the click of more than a hundred guns left a prickle against Chanyeol's skin. He always hated this part. Identification was one of the worst aspects of war. Say a word out of line, and death was imminent.

From the fog, a sillouette became prominent. He stood stiff, his arms raised as a gun clicked uneasily. 'Identification!' he hollered, his voice rough and coarse from behind his gasmask. Chanyeol always left the identification to his room-mate. Chanyeol had never spoken a word to anyone. It had been so long since he had heard his own voice. The idea of speech seemed to frighten him. A sound that comes from the throat, reverbing and forming words just felt bitter.

 'Do Kyungsoo and Park Chanyeol! Signing in!' his room mate hollered, his own body rigid as he saluted. For a moment they were greeted with silence. The occasional clicking of a gun left them uncomfortable as they waited.

'Clear!' the husky voice boomed back.

Chanyeol always hated entering the barracks. It left him feeling like an animal in a cage. The large, reinforced concrete walls were intimidatingly dull. Thick grey walls lined with armed men as they paced nervously. Inside was worse. Small box like buildings were dotted briefly around, almot invisible in the mist. Faintly he could make out a small troop performing drills. He felt lucky then, he didn't have to do that kind of training.

Chanyeol felt himself stumble as Kyungsoo quickly stopped walking, his legs stiff as he saluted someone. Squinting through the fog, he could make out the strong frame of his superior. Chanyeol too reacted similarly, his back straightened as his eyes focused on there tough forms.

It was time. It was time to go topple a king.

 

Sorry that this is so long and boring :c But the boring parts always have to be written before you can get to the good parts!