Part 2: Mortem

Death.

Inevitable. Unavoidable.

Yet, I think, no matter how many times I have seen it, it has never lost its sting.

Prologue

Jongin didn’t remember much apart from the flames. Then again, it had been Taemin who’d pulled him through the fire, and it was also Taemin who was pulling him along at the moment, forcing him to run even though his legs ached and his chest burned and he thought he couldn’t go another step.

It had just been another horrible incident, or that’s what everyone seemed to be. None of the adults of the foster home saw—or they saw, but didn’t take notice, somehow—but the monster that had destroyed half of the building was still there, wreaking havoc down the streets as Jongin and Taemin ran.

They turned an abrupt corner. “Here,” Taemin hissed at him, and he moved back, slipping behind the pile of boxes and recycled paper that was piled high. Taemin crouched down next to him too, bringing his knees up to his chin, gasping for breath.

Jongin had to fight the urge to peep out of the corner. That had been the second orphanage—the first one they’d ran from, this one had been attacked, and he was pretty sure finding a third and being able to stay with Taemin was unlikely. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned back, still unable to catch his breath.

“What was that?” he finally asked.

Taemin pushed aside too-long hair. “Don’t know,” he mumbled. “We should probably stay here until we’re sure that it’s lost us.”

They did stay there. Jongin remained quiet the whole time until he began to drift into exhaustion, and he might’ve fallen asleep if Taemin hadn’t grabbed his arm harshly.

He snapped up, turning to look at his friend. A pair of large, frightened eyes mirrored his own, grimy hands and a face smudged with dirt and soot and ashes, and he held up a dirty finger to his lips. Jongin froze—the distinct noise of boots clicking on the pavement could be heard, which meant it wasn’t the creature that had been chasing them before.

He shook his head at Taemin. It was almost as if the other boy knew what he was thinking, because he gave a short nod before both of them stood up, scrambling from behind the pile of boxes and papers they’d been hiding behind for the past twenty minutes.

Jongin’s first thought when he saw the person was that it wasn’t a police officer or a worker from the orphanage or anything like that, because he was dressed a bit differently. He had a black coat that he had buttoned to his neck, along with equally dark pants and shoes. His face was pale, a contrast to the color of his clothing, and his features were extremely sharp. A pair of cold, grey eyes stared back at him, and he found himself stopping, frozen to the spot. This wasn’t the right person, and he had a feeling that it would’ve been smarter if he and Taemin hadn’t stood up.

“Mister,” Taemin spoke up first. “Do you… do you know any police stations near here?”

He regarded both of them with the same cold eyes, expression emotionless, like he was processing the scene in front of him through a layer that took away all empathy.

“Athanatoi,” he finally mu