seriously struggled with the beginning so much.

started on monday, june 2nd, 2014 at 2:30 AM.

my attempt at a horror, suspense, whatever. enjoy.

 

prompt: picture yourself as one of these characters and put yourself in their shoes. then you’ll discover how twisted human beings can really be.

 

--

 

He lays against the wall with a gun that he managed to find in his dad’s warehouse against his left temple, hands trembling and beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, glistening in the light shades of sun that managed to escape naturality. The wind manages to intrude his privacy as well, making it feel as if it’s a cool day but really it isn’t. What day is it even? A Tuesday? It feels like a Tuesday with the smells of old coffee beans mixed with a little bit of vanilla lingering in the background. But maybe it’s a Friday. The sun’s lower than it usually is at five o'clock. Just like always on Fridays. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s hallucinating, again.

 

Along with sweat, there’s now tears. The abhorrent pungent is still there. It’s tangy-smelling but he ignores it plainly. His fingers continue to twitch abnormally, maybe from lack of hunger or lack of sleep. The bags underneath his eyes are also visible and also add on to that point but he hasn’t been out in the open doors for days. The sun’s his enemy.

 

Just as he mustered the courage to pull back the trigger, something small inside of him gives up and he drops the gun, breaths hitched and gasps rasped back.

 

“Damn it,” he says aloud, perching his head back onto the windowsill.

 

He fails again.

 

--

 

A few months of misery is all it needs to trigger. It’s been longer, perhaps. Maybe even a year. But with incidents occurring here and there with smells of blood becoming normal, time flies by quickly.

 

He remembers that it was one of those days. A day where everything felt right and everything was just perfect. The weather, the day, his friends, his family. It just was.

 

--

 

Chapter 1: Beginning

 

Baekhyun stands at the bus-stop, hands digged into trenched pockets and a pair of black converse tip-toed onto the concrete. He stretches his head out the road, turning to the left to see if a small metro was arriving. It wasn’t. Looks like he was early today. Go figure after a rushing pair of hands ushered him out of the doors, screaming that he would be late to the few last days of his finals for high school.

 

The weather feels cool, especially for a day in mid-April where Spring had just came out of the shadows. Winter backed off. Baekhyun inhales in the scents of lime, grass, and the aroma seeping out of his warm coffee cup. It was an obsession he was noted for. Also a daily thing but today, it feels like he never had it before.

 

It’s a day where he doesn’t need headphones to jam out his feelings or his unfortunately bipolar swings. Instead, it’s a rare day where for once, he just listens to the soft vrooms of cars rushing by at a few miles above the limit or maybe the quiet whispers of good mornings from behind him. He likes it.

 

Once the familiar log arrives, Baekhyun gets onto and sits at the normal seat, three away from the front but not all the way to the back. Even though it’s a normal bus, it feels just as rowdy as it would for normal high-schoolers. Courtesy to his parents and loads of begging, he was stalled for his final year of school so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the immature first or second-years. He likes this one though. It’s peaceful and there’s always other smells of cocoa beans in the air. Not just from his coffee but from the other cups of heaven as well. Makes sense though since there’s a local shop near his block.

 

The sun’s rising slower than usual, just like always on Fridays. It gives the city a perfect shade of orange with a little tint of suffering blackness from the past night but it’s a perfect hue. It comprises of lost sleep and new awakenings. Baekhyun also likes this. He likes a lot of observations around him including the relative motions of objects as they zoom on by, even if the bus is going at thirty miles per hour. He likes the vigilant pitches of baby blue in the sky. And he for sure, loves the disappearing crescent in the background, where the stars lines up with his eyes. He likes the tired eyes of passengers as they pass his booth but within those eyes, he sees humbleness and tranquility. Now it’s just because of his good night sleep last night. Roughly seven to eight hours of sleep is a rare occurrence since he normally only gets on average, four to five. Cons of all honors but he’s learned to adapt to it.

 

Taking a small breath, the auburn lays his head against the old headrest, fluff sticking out, his eyes peeking out through the windows as breath-taking sceneries of Julianne takes view. The Sakura Park, complemented with sakura trees, continue to grow by the nanos as the usual passersby  come. He can’t help but smile, remembering the memories of when the first sapling was planted. Years came by and here they were, with a park dedicated to his favorite species of botanic creatures. He fought hard for them.  

 

Baekhyun then frowns as they undergo a dark tunnel. It’s daily but something feels off. Turning to his right, a figure appears beneath his vision, hunched onto the other seat with something pointed at his general direction, specifically at his face. It looks more like a knife rather than a gun but he’s not too sure.The auburn squints his eyes to get a better viewing. A hooded figure was all he could see in the dark. His heart begins to scamper, scamper quickly. He feels his heart jumping to his throat which is now dry, perched, and filled with emptiness. The auburn opens his mouth, only to have nothing come out. Finally, the long journey through the tunnel ends and light is seen once again. The figure had disappeared before his eyes.

 

He remains stumped. Stuttering out of his seat slowly, Baekhyun petrifyingly feels his heart calm down before he turns to his right. Where the hooded figure is seen once again. He screams, immediately concealing his head back into his aisle with eyes peered down towards the dirtied bus floors.

 

“Calm down,” a voice says. A familiar shadow frame reflects against the window mirror, body thin yet short. Baekhyun feels a weight add onto his seat as he continues to rasp breaths in jagged amounts. He dares to open his eye but once he recognises the audible voice, fear morphs into anger.

 

“Suho,” Baekhyun whispers underneath his breath. The sweetened cologne that smells like waterfalls and pine trees filtrate through. Opening his eyes, the auburn meets a light grin which is replaced quickly after a hasty push was given to the prankster. The school prodigy gives off a small chuckle.

 

“Saw you enter the bus. Couldn’t help but pull off a small joke for better moods of finals week, ya know?.” He pauses before stifling back a laugh, “Didn’t think you’d get so scared though,” he says with brows raised. Baekhyun eyes him down in a roll. A messy attempt at a light brown fohawk, cheerful eyes with nerd glasses, thin lips, white t-shirt accompanied by the usual cardigan with dark jeans and blood vans. This is Joonmyun, his best friend but he prefers everyone to call him by Suho. More like a stage attraction but Baekhyun thinks it’s an egotistical thing for having so much authority. Really, all he gets to do is plan activities and wear a sash on Thursdays during school patrol. Baekhyun wasn’t one to crush dreams though so he lets Suho do whatever he wishes to.

 

“You’re something,” Baekhyun says with a roll of the eyes, his expression still frightened from the terror. He leans his head against the seat again with Suho continuing to snicker every here and then. Suho supposes he’s done something well for Baekhyun because once the auburn lowered his head down onto Suho’s shoulder, they’re already both laughing in fits. And it’s only six-thirty.

 

--

 

“Guilt is primal.”

 

The professor walks around, both arms linked onto one another on his chest. He continues on, “Guilt is meant to be imposed onto human beings.”

 

Baekhyun flicks his pencil onto his composition in an annoying manner albeit the lowering stares given from Kyungsoo who sat right by him. The prestigious, most respected kid was right there by him. And he was just there, knogging his pencil onto the thin sheets of paper. But he liked psychology anyway so after meeting exchanges with Kyungsoo, he stops with a sarcastic smile plastered on.

 

“Guilt; it’s an emoti--wait, no. Let me rephrase that. You don’t feel guilt just off the bat from something. Guilt is a stimulus. It’s a response.”

 

The auburn perks his head up, eyes lazily following the teacher’s hand motions. He peeks over to the doe-eyed male who returns his glance with raised brows. Baekhyun shakes his head dismissively and turns back towards the board where several notes were jotted down. He copies them.

 

“Everyone palliates. Everyone tries to avoid guilt. It’s one of the supposed important matters that everyone reacts to whether it’s caused from a small incident like knocking down books, saying some small comments, or even just giving a slight push. It’s ignited after the responses or as I said before, stimuluses are visualized.”

 

Guilt, Baekhyun repeats to himself. It’s a pain in the . He scoffs to himself, maybe a bit too loudly because after he does, he feels a jab in his lower right arm. Kyungsoo ends up giving him another disapproving shake. He’s too much of a prodigy. The highest academics in the school, in fact. He makes it seem like it’s nothing big.

 

“Take for say, these two human beings. And one says something that might be offensive. He doesn’t perceive it as guilt until he sees reactions in his mind, whether it’s visualized in front of him or not.” The professor pauses, his eyes faltering down. “That’s the thing about guilt. It’s imaginative or it’s just a figment of your imagination. You don’t need to see it to believe it. You just feel it.”

 

The class of honored students for psychology silences. The professor respects it, smiling wryly. His lessons were always connective in some way or form. “That’s also the thing about human beings; you and I both. We both feel emotions nonetheless having a reason too. You could say something offensive about me and not care about it. Until later, where something gets you back and that’s when guilt hits. It’s a pain in the , really.”

 

Baekhyun doesn’t realize it at first but he’s been listening. It’s a surprising first time. But he believes it all.

 

The bell rings after another elongated silence canvases over, forcing him to jump out of his seat hastily. Kyungsoo holds back a laugh but it’s futile as Baekhyun can hear it, throwing him a glare.

 

“Alright, go ahead and get outta here before I assign something. Remember to study for your finals. You lucky asses got away from my test today. Damn printer. But do remember today’s lesson.This all reels back to a bigger picture that everything else comes back to in this class.”

 

Students are rushing out quickly but he continues his message anyway for the higher ones who stay back.

 

“Impacts are easier to cause than say. So be careful, please, on what you say, do, or think.”

 

It sounds more like a plea but Baekhyun has already left the classroom in a rushingly manner, followed closely behind by Kyungsoo.

 

Sometimes, he just thinks it’s a guilt-fest in that class trying to paint over all of their feelings. Grey over colors. Rain over sun. Maybe it’s brainwashing from the school guidances. Or maybe he really should just pay attention.

 

--

 

The tall figure stands near the corner, watching the auburn messily throw his books in his locker. Slowly peeking over motioned faces, the stranger pulls on his black hood before strolling over to Baekhyun. He hasn’t seen him yet, luck grants.

 

Heaving in a deep breath, the figure distances himself before Baekhyun in just feet. Now inches. Now centimeters. Now millimeters. He opts his hands out and reaches over to the auburn’s waist, holding them out for a few seconds before clasping on.

 

Baekhyun jumps back once he feels the pair of arms around his waist. He yelps instinctively, backing away stealthily only to have ran into the clothed body.

 

“Relax,” the stranger says, pulling off his hood to reveal the ashy, light brown hair that’s disheveled in a disorderly mannered.

 

The giant yelps in a manner that sounds awfully familiar like how Baekhyun had a few seconds ago after punches of force were pressured onto his abdomen. “,” he groans to himself, backing away a few inches. Baekhyun feels no remorse.

 

“God damn, Chanyeol. Stop giving me a heart-attack everytime you come to see me and then maybe you won’t get your beat,” fuses the auburn who slams his locker shut.

 

Chanyeol grins and stretches his arms before wrapping both pairs around his auburn’s waist more forcedly. Despite his mustering efforts, Baekhyun was unable to pry both arms off of him and before he knew it, he felt a chin lay on his shoulder blades, accompanied by the hot breath exalting off of his mouth.

 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, groaning inwardly on the heavy weight.

 

The giant merely smiles before nuzzling his face into his boyfriend’s neck, inhaling the small scents of vanilla and coffee. “You smell good,” he says, closing his eyes and burying himself in the sensitive areas of Baekhyun’s neck.

 

“I know, now get off of me,” Baekhyun says. He admits it feels good but if anything, he hates the attention they get in public. You guys are too cute, PDA, get a room. It’s all annoying and it can be avoided clearly by just not displaying affection.

 

The giant gives in and backs away from the auburn but only a few inches and still, that charming smile is still on him. “You alright?”

 

Baekhyun ponders too long on that question, wondering whether he was either located on the island border of annoyed or just tired. But he was always tired everyday and when he was annoyed, he really wasn’t anyway so the shorter just shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

 

It really hasn’t so he has no excuse to speak for himself. He feels a little guilt for lying.

 

Chanyeol thins out his lips and holds out his arm, expecting for a link of the latter’s arms. Baekhyun hesitates at first but albeit the stares, he links arms with his boyfriend anyway. He feels his heart plummets into the axises even though they had done this many times.

 

“How were your finals?” Chanyeol asks as they stroll, poke through, and avoid the many eyes that are given to them. Not that their relationship was anything unusual because by all means, it wasn’t. They were just a renowned couple in the school. Originating in secondary school, they had lasted through ever since, still going strong.

 

Baekhyun elaborates, his free arm fixing a small strand of hair that lies unkempt. “Psych didn’t have one and it was fine in Analysis. You?”

 

Chanyeol fidgets through their arms, moving to the right a few inches to feel a bit more comfort in their position before actually replying. “Alright. I think I did alright in mines. Analysis was kinda a pain in the but I only had Chem after that and we both know I’m pretty good at that .”

 

Pushing open the front doors, they both felt a cool air breeze onto their dry skin. Baekhyun closes his eyes and embraces the elegance lurking in the atmosphere. He inhales through his nose and smells spring. The smell of freshly cut grass with a little smell of salty air in the layer with just a tiny bit, just a tiny bit, smell of blooming daffodils. Chanyeol, unfortunately, still struggles with rising allergy problems.

 

“Hey Baek?” Chanyeol calls out after pulling open the passenger door to let the auburn enter.

 

Baekhyun buckles in the seatbelt before turning towards the driver seat. “Yeah?”

 

“Do you have 11 Protons?”

 

He knows where this is going now, coming from the basketball star who made higher scores than he ever did on the past exams that related to science. He rolls his eyes.

 

“Because you’re sodium fine.”

 

“Just start the car. I’m hungry.”

 

Through the windows though, he fails to notice the stranger with a pale face who stands with a coat concealing his frame, eyes pointed straight at their car. Strange demeanor with something familiar to no eyes.

 

--

 

The school day always ends with him walking home with Suho and usually, they always both have their jackets tied around their waists. It’s a daily thing, a small inside joke for the spring weather but also, maybe just a small fashion statement. They laugh, making jokes at every little thing before both promptly reaching the intersection and bidding their goodbyes.

 

“I’ll see you later,” Suho says with a small grin. His small fohawk had faded away throughout the day and now his hair was down. Baekhyun also takes notice of how his sneakers were now dirtied. He doesn’t care to ask because he knows Suho would freak out, being the perfectionist he really is.

 

“See ya,” Baekhyun says and they split ways.

 

He still hasn’t taken notice of the stranger that is following him from a few feet behind yet, just like ghosts in a dark hallway. A very dark hallway in a room that never ends.

 

-

 

Later that night, after he ends his phone call with Suho with a goodnight and he ends his video call with Chanyeol with an I love you, he pulls out his bunches of papers from Psych and begins to study, repeating definitions back to himself and filling out study guide outliners. The wind picks up a small glower but he fails to notice it. It feels hollow.

 

Eventually, hours pass by and it’s now seven past four in the morning. It seems that today would be one of those day again where he would just cram unneeded knowledge into his mind for finals, despite his fatigue figure.The lights are turned off, in case his parents would wake up to find him studying and all he has for light source is just a small lampshade on his bedstand that’s slowly burning out.

 

The window is perched open by a few algebraic books and the wind is beginning to whistle a little bit more, whistling a soft tune of warning from afar. Baekhyun looks up from his fifteenth chapter outliner and looks out the window, where the moon was hiding tonight, leaving the world in pure blood for once. He’s not sure whether he likes it or not.

 

Sighing, the auburn snuggles back against the wall and lays against the pillow, his eyes closing involuntarily until a quiet but then loud chiming wakes him up. He shoots his head up startled, dazed in a trance before he turns towards his night-stand where the house phone is propped onto it’s backside, vibrating in the crimson lights emitted from showers of rubies outside. What?

 

Who could be calling him at this time?

 

It takes him a few seconds to branch out his arms and reach the house phone but once he does, he realizes that the sound. It’s only on his line and not on any of the other house lines. How? Maybe it’s someone else inside the house, like his sister or his parents. He turns the phone onto its opposite side and feels his throat clog up again, filled with inks of emptiness and full of trembling fear.

 

There’s no caller I.D. There’s nothing. Just plain white, brightening up his face like the isolated moon in cowardry. The small lamp-shade, also on his nightstand, then suddenly flickers out and burns out, leaving him in just presence of the crimson light that spreads from outside.    

 

The phone continues to blare out and he knows that it won’t for any longer, so he reaches it up towards his right ear and he clicks the on button.

 

“...”

 

Black. It’s all he hears if that even makes sense. Baekhyun begins to shiver even though it’s moist outside. His heart stops at random beats and continues again. No one’s speaking so he musters a sufficient amount of courage to croak back a hello. No answer. Still silent but he knows someone’s at the other end of the line.

 

He waits for a few more seconds and in that duration, he swears he sees a shadow pass by his window. His eyes flutter back to his mobile phone, where he contemplates on calling 911. He’s also wondering whether he was in the midst of a dream. Perhaps this is all a nightmare. Or maybe he’s hallucinating. That might be a case.

 

Silence continues throughout the call and his room except for his heartbeat or maybe the stranger’s pulsating beat because he also swears that he feels someone’s contorted breath on his back. It makes him quiver slightly.

 

The line then goes blank, the constant ringing in the background becoming paced now. And before he could’ve turned off the phone, it already goes off with blinking lights signalling that batteries were low.

 

But he could’ve swore he just charged it right before his call with Suho.

 

--