Abjuration

Too big to fit through the door all at once, the demon pried its way into the room, breaking pieces off the wall as if it was cardboard. It’s warty, purple tentacles blindly explored the space inside, inching in on the trapped students.

The first year wizard and his prefect had their back against the wall, their only exit on the other side of the room cut off by the moving mass of tentacles. Seungcheol considered if he could make the jump between the demon arms to reach the door, but it seemed impossible.

 “How could it escape the ritual chamber?” Seungcheol yelled, using a broken floor lamp as makeshift spear to keep the tentacles at bay.

“Must have forgotten a spike on the pentagram or something,” confessed Chan as he hurled a lightning bolt at the nearest demonic outgrowth, his wandholding hand shaking in fear. The scorch mark barely registered with the hell spawn.

“How? How can you possibly-“

The leader ducked below the huge, glibbery mass that tried to crush him. The demon’s disgusting head forced its way in between the arms, dozens of eyes locating the fighting boys.

Not a moment too soon, the door burst open and Jun rushed into the room, his ornate Dadao high above his head. The weapon dug into the hellish flesh, making it sizzle on contact. Hacking the rapidly re-growing tentacles, he created a path for Jeonghan to enter behind him.

“Where’s the church boy when you need him?” asked the leader in the angel’s direction.

“Just left for church.” Jeonghan smiled despite the situation at hand.

“Then send someone to his room.”

“Already did. Hansol should be here any second.”

Despite Jun’s best efforts the youngest and the oldest boy were still trapped and the disgusting creature was getting further and further into the room, the whole area filling with the stink of sulfur and molten flesh.

The angel found an opening and spread his arms in a dignified motion. Warm, gracious light radiated off the long haired boy, rays of solid sunbeams hitting the demon in his many grotesque eyes.

A deafening scream like a cross between a wounded hippo and an enraged lion made the walls tremble. The demon jolted back and gave the way free for the boys to escape.

Hansol arrived with his arms full of rosaries just as Seungcheol rushed the maknae past the tentacles that were winding in pain.

The young rapper dropped all religious items and held up the biggest he had found, intending to throw it towards the still hacking and slashing Jun.

In a surprise move, the hell spawn broke into the room, ignoring the suffering the angel inflicted upon it. Seungcheol threw Chan to the ground the stabbed his lamp at the multiple ton bulk of flesh descending upon him. He was brushed to the floor by a huffing Jun, who knocked the air out of his leader.

Seungcheol lost his weapon but saw the tentacle swing across empty space where his head had just been a second ago.

In one swift motion the arm changed direction and aimed for the unprotected Hansol. The rapper lifted the rosary in front of his face as a shield, not knowing if it would affect the demon at all.

As the warty arm passed the ring of wood beads it disintegrated immediately like passing through a wood chipper, a gory mess of black and green blood spraying Hansol, together with chunks of rapidly disintegrating flesh. The white outfit turned black and slimy.

The boy sputtered to keep the blood off his lips, his eyes shut tight.

Jun drove his katana into the stump and twisted his way to the main artery. Like a firefighter hose, the blood vessels sprayed the ceiling as they burst, raining green slime onto the group.

At last the demon cried out his final scream and slumped onto the floor, still blocking the entrance.

“Oops,” Chan whispered.

Hansol had wiped the worst off his face. “If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be in the shower for the next five weeks.”

The supernatural beings collected the rosaries while Seungcheol finally got off the ground, slowly coming to his senses again. Gore dripped from the ceiling into his already disheveled hair.

“Chan? We need to talk.”

As he approached his younger, the angel began to glow ominously, facing the demon cadaver. Seungcheol knew he had to leave if he wanted to keep his focus. The gorgeous offspring of heaven itself already floated above the ground in his still pristine clothes. He looked as enchanting as ever.

“Come on, Chan, we’re holding a meeting,” said the leader as he grabbed the unhappy boy by the collar, ignoring the slime stains on the blue fabric.

Once all others were gone, Jun and Jeonghan spoke a quiet incantation. The rotting corpse fragmented, leaving only blood splatters and slime behind as the purple flesh vanished piece by piece.

The angel laughed for a reason the other non-human instinctively understood. How inconvenient it had to be for these mortals, to do everything by hand.

************************

Wonwoo wasn’t trying to be pretentious. He just so happened to be staring out the window in a forlorn and melodramatic fashion when leader-hyung found him.

“Stop sulking and join our meeting. Conference room, now.”

“I wasn’t sulking.”

“Brooding then.”

“No, I- fine, I’m coming.”

But he had been sulking and he knew it. It was an unfortunate situation. Being away from Mingyu let him distract himself from his feelings which made him happy, but it also made him miss his friend’s presence, which made him miserable. Yet, being near Mingyu – while making him excessively blissful – increased his longing for more.

Wonwoo’s mind was a leaking ship amidst a tempest out on the open sea.

Maybe he should talk it over with Seungcheol. The prefect had honest concern for everybody’s well-being and seemed to know clever tricks of all kind to keep the dorm from falling to pieces.

The meeting was a very official seeming get-together in the conference room – usually reserved for when headmaster-nim had an announcement.

Chan sat at the head table, looking crestfallen. Behind the deflated boy was the oldest student, his hand firmly on the maknae.

“I have called an all-mundane meeting because the wizards tend to be way too lenient in dealing with magical misbehavior. We are here to hold assizes in regards to this individual’s misdeeds.”

Wonwoo looked around. Hansol wore a bathrobe and his hair was wet as if he had just showered. In the middle of the day? Weird. Seungkwan munched on a bowl of noodles, certainly not his first. Seokmin had dark stains of dirt on his sand colored uniform, probably from the potion’s lab. And Jisoo… was absent.

Wonwoo raised his hand, making the leader’s train of thought derail. “Hyung?”

“What is it, Wonwoo?”

“If it’s an all-mundane meeting, where’s Jisoo?”

“He hardly counts. He may not be a wizard but guitar-hyung has an artifact. I don’t want him fiddling with my emotions right now. Or ever.”

“Iiiik!” shrieked Hansol, as he pulled something slimy form his hair. “I have to shower again.”

Without another word the rapper jumped off his seat and ran off. The prefect yelled after him to no avail.

Wonwoo was dumbfounded. The solution to his problem had been right in front of him the whole time. An artifact that adjusted people’s emotions for the positive. As far as he knew, no one had ever fallen in love due to Jisoo’s music, but if he could get his hands on an artifact of his own…

He didn’t have to get over Mingyu, he could just make him fall in love back. For the first time in who knows how long, Wonwoo didn’t feel hopeless about his crush.

“Sorry, I just remembered something. I have to go.”

Seungcheol tried to stare him into submission but the boy was already up. The leader groaned.

“Stay here. Damnit. You can’t just all **** off when you like. This is a meeting.”

Chan perked up and looked behind him. “I’m telling Jisoo you said that.”

****************************

Twelve rosaries. That’s how many Wonwoo counted as he walked up to his schoolmate.

“Wonwoo, Helloooo! What can I doooo.  For yoooo.” Jisoo rhymed as he saw the boy of equal age approach. He was without guitar for once, sitting at a laptop, composing emails rather than songs.

“I was wondering if I could ask something. You might consider it a bit personal. I’m not sure.”

“Come through, Wonwoo. A conversation long overdue?”

“There’s a problem and I think I know a solution but I need more information that I think only you have.”

“Information tired and true. I shall supply to you. It’s good to know that you value. My angle of view. Wonwoo.

“It’s just… can you stop rhyming?”

“Um, sure. Wait, was that the personal question?

“No…”

The inquiring boy carefully turned the statement over in his head before speaking quickly. “How did you get your artifact and is there a way for me to get one, too?”

Jisoo looked off to the side, pondering something, his face showing great concentration. Was he trying to remember or just looking for a way to say it with a rhyme?

“Why would you need one?”

“It’s just that I see you put a smile on people’s lips all the time, so…” Wonwoo said, chastising himself for not having a better lie thought out in advance.

“No selfish motives then? You don’t intend to soil your flesh with carnality, do you?”

“Soil my…? No, no. What are you thinking? I’m Wonwoo the immaculate.”

“Let me tell you it was quite a journey. Everybody’s path is different. I don’t know if I can help with yours. Maybe start by casting a finding spell.”

Wonwoo pointed both thumbs at himself. “Not a wizard. Pure, boring mundanity.”

“You don’t need to be. Mundanes can support a wizard ritual. You need someone who loves to cast complicated charms.”

“…I know who you’re talking about. Thank you.”

“Always happy to give a clue. To you. Wonwoo.”

“O…kay. Bye.”

***************************

Minghao sprayed conjured dissolvent from his wand onto the ceiling, slowly removing the demon’s remains and returning the room’s roof to its former condition.

The slime dripped onto the wet floor where Seungkwan ran back and forth, shoving a mop in front of him. He had put on music and sang along as the room looked less and less like an otherworldly warzone.

Meanwhile the leader flipped through his personal notes, looking for the charms he needed Minghao to cast. The wall was still in pieces and the furniture was ruined. The Chinese boy knew all this expenditure would exhaust him, but he didn’t complain. For once everybody depended on him.

Headmaster-nim had been over to inspect the damage and offered to take care of it if the dorm’s inhabitants – represented by the prefect – didn’t feel up to the task.

Not that anyone would have expected differently, but Seungcheol wanted to appear in control even when the dorm was literally in shambles.

“So the wall repair will require three spells. One to gather the pieces, one to put them into place and one to mend the fractures. I guess we’ll have to paint it ourselves.”

Seungkwan interrupted his singing. “Not us specifically though, right? There are other boys in this building who are currently not helping.”

“Alright, I’ll build another team later. Minghao, you think you can shoulder all this casting? I’ll be scrubbing the chairs in the corner. Call me when you’re ready.”

A huge glob of goo dropped from above and splashed onto the sofa the leader had just cleaned. Minghao fought down a chuckle. Watching Seungcheol despair was way better than playing fetch.