If you tell them I’m not in the closet

If you say I’m not under the bed

If you tell them I’m not in the shadows

you’ll eventually help me get fed

BANG.

BANG.

BANG BANG-

“Busanjin-gu police! Open up now!”

Taehyung’s eyes shot open as he leapt up from the small armchair he’d been sleeping in for the past two months. When his socked feet hit the floorboards of this shabby apartment, his eyes grew larger than tennis-balls.

A sticky substance was splattered everywhere. Van Gogh gone horribly wrong, it had long since dried and was an ugly shade of dark brown.

“Oh..., , ...” he cursed quietly as the cops were only banging harder.

There was a sudden silence, but the troubled youth had already grabbed his things, guessing they were running up to boot open the door. His things consisted of an old bag and black hoodie. Spotting a half-empty soju bottle, he pocketed that too.

The boy’s throat became drier than sandpaper when he caught sight of two bodies lying dead in the doorway of their room. Semi-, a frothy white substance seeped from their open mouths.

He felt like throwing up for he did not know what had happened to them.

He did not know what happened to his wretched middle-aged aunt claiming to be his mother and her nineteen year-old lover whom she kept warm for the night.

Taehyung’s long legs wobble as he jumps over the figures and slides their bedroom window open.

The police finally break the door down, their firearms aiming at every corner.

But the slayer is fast out of sight and climbing down the water pipe.

The sun is bright out as last night’s tempest Withered away.

Birds chirp wildly as cars stuck in morning rush hour zoom past.

Squinting into the distance, Taehyung flings the rucksack over his shoulder and chugs the final remnants of alcohol down his parched throat before legging it.

Massaging his temple, he peels a dry substance off his cheek. He has a splitting headache and cannot seem to recall what occurred.

*

“Taehyung? Is that you?”

Said boy growled and clamped his jaw, he only returned here so he could sleep on a proper bed.

Grinding his teeth, he stepped into the front room.

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied.

Expecting no one to be at home as was usually the case these past months, surprise was an understatement as his entire family were inside, including Jimin. But heart instantly melted when a pair of small, familiar arms curled themselves tightly around his waist.

“What the...Jisoo!” He shouted, swinging the nine year old up and pulling her away to gaze at her face. Falling on his knees to hug her tightly, he couldn’t believe she was finally back. Something cools his headache as he no longer felt angry.

Whilst his brain may be infiltrated, his heart stands tough and tall.

He couldn’t believe she had finally returned, just when he thought to bury her memory. All gave up hope, but Taehyung knew she was taken for a purpose. Putting her down, he took her small hands in his and pecked them.

Gazing warmly into her innocent orbs, the boy leant in to whisper in her ear, “Everything will be okay now. Taehyungie is back and I will not let Jimin take you again. You can tell me everything whenever you want Princess Aurora,” so only they could hear.

Jisoo gawked at her stepbrother with love and couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. No more silent crying, she was finally making noise. Sobbing in Taehyung’s arms, their parents shed their own tears of joy.

They had just wanted their family back. Jisoo had returned without a scratch which was enough to appease the foolish adults. They didn’t care about anything else.

In the moment where her brother’s deep, gentle voice played in her ear; Jisoo finally felt like sleeping as she closed her eyes.

But Jimin’s mind was whirling.

Watching Taehyung and Jisoo interact made his fist curl and his heart rapidly pump blood to his cheeks.

He must protect Jisoo.

Upon hearing Jimin’s footsteps, Jisoo jerked her eyes open and instantly ran towards her mother and Jungkook. Catching the moment, “Taehyung, why did you make her cry! We only just calmed her down,” Jimin tutted.

A snarl later and Taehyung grabbed his collar, “You ing bastard. You did this, you-”

“Boys!” Taejin shouted, eyes intently analysing his son. He didn’t want Taehyung leaving again and now the whole family is back, he won’t let anyone go. He won’t repeat history and he just needs to teach them tolerance.

But it was Jungkook who stepped forward. Standing between the two, he tried to remain impartial as he took a deep breath.

Turning to Jimin, “Cut him some slack, he only just returned.”

Ignoring the shocked expression of the older, he turned to Taehyung.

But his doe eyes lingered over beautiful features, “C-clean your head,” spluttered the raven haired boy as he raised an index finger to gesture dried blood.

In all honesty, a moment doesn’t pass in Jungkook’s world without replaying their passionate kiss in the school shed that one lunchtime which felt eons ago. How their wet, hot tongues tangoed; how their trousers tightened. How they flew high in the sky, how they fit in each other’s eyes. How they freely smiled, how they were lost boys trapped in pure love. The pretty boy had since replaced Jimin’s face with Taehyung’s each time they had -which was a concerning amount of times - and he would close his eyes to imagine what Taehyung’s deep moans would sound like when he had trouble sleeping at night.

Taehyung dropped his gaze first before stealing a glance back at the younger.

They shared a tiny smile.

“Boys get ready for school. Taehyung... uh - you can get some - uh, rest,” Taejin interrupted as he was evidently flustered at his nonchalant son re-entering their home out of the blue.

The smiles fade as said boy drags his feet upstairs, his demeanour screaming anguish.

Sighing and clucking his teeth, Jungkook strolled over to Jisoo and cradled her gently. He vaguely wonders where she went, but as she returned unscathed, he thought this to be a blessing worth not questioning.

Hyemin was her daughter’s hair as Taejin ruffled Jimin’s locks.

But Jimin was fixated on the staircase as though Taehyung was still walking. His eyes became foggy as he knew this wasn’t good, he knows this final return will be the catalyst.

He knows someone released Jisoo from the other side. But it could only be the two whose minds have access to that damned basement. The blazed artefact which concealed a sinister mystery. Jimin thinks the other boy is in a coma, so in his head, it can only be Taehyung. Only his once tortured mind can be the key to enter the other dimension.

Turning around, he watched the lost girl reunite with her parents. He watched his Mona Lisa kissing her forehead as tears swam in his own eyes.

“My Jisoo should’ve come back, not you,” Jimin spat with venom.

Banshee was never supposed to have access to the girl; it was her own fault for watching. She should not have laid eyes on the other half of Wither. But Jimin is upset that she survived the ordeal.

Whilst the others were busy with Jisoo, the blonde caught up with his feet as he fanned a hand through his hair. 

Background cawing, fake laughter and conversation soon faded as the second floor’s morning silence engulfed his atmosphere.

Jimin was now stood stationary outside the wide eyed boy’s room. Leaning an ear onto the closed door, the faint sound of ‘Danse Macabre’ was being played.

A low andante of murmurs ravaged Jimin’s mind as piano keys jolted violently.

He knocked once.

The Macabre stopped.

He entered.

Never before had the disturbed boy stepped in this portion of the house, but he felt the ambience before he explored the space. This felt like his room; constrained and cold with a whispering stillness.

Taehyung turned from his miniature piano, letting a key off and raising a brow when he saw who entered.

They finally had alone time.

“The door.”

Jimin instantly obeyed as he closed it behind him before turning to stare at his equal. The piano wasn’t grand but Taehyung made it seem ancient. Yet, as they stared at each other, something was awfully wrong.

Expecting to hear voices, expecting to feign an emotion, Jimin could only feel small.

Nothing was slamming his cranium; no one was twisting his spine for he felt like a simple Park Jimin. Not pet, not Mr Jimin, not Jiminie, not Minie, not anxiety; plain Park Jimin. The weakest of all, the most human-like, the less evolved.

Continuing to watch the older with spite, Taehyung grew impatient. “Tell me what you want or get out.”

Their eyes lock as Park Jimin steps a fraction closer, “How did you get her o-out.”

He stuttered. He ing stuttered.

Huffing, “It wasn’t me.”

“B-but-”

This time, Taehyung stood from his seat and edged in. They were mere breaths away.

“Where the did you take her.”

Eyes worried, “It wasn’t me,” he mirrored.

“Then why did you kill Jackson.”

There was a lingering pause as Jimin gaped into Taehyung’s saucers. The pupils were flushed and dilated. He knows what the dilation means, he knows who entered the equal, who has found a new home. Without hesitation, Jimin wet his thumb and began to wipe dry blood off Taehyung’s face. 

Caressing the area, Jimin was able to feel the events of last night. He knows what this boy did. Scratch that, he knows what Wither did.

Taehyung flinched as his skin shivered, “Don’t try to read me.”

Ignoring the comment, Jimin staggered back with shock. “Two? Why?”

Gulping, “I - I...”

“Two?! Two!”

The brown haired boy scampered back to his piano, one which he hadn’t used in a while. He continued to play Danse Macabre, wishing an orchestra of trumpets and violins could replace torn drums. “I don’t know how they died. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know what is inside me,” he closed his eyes, “it is relentless.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he his lips. He must console the equal, “Don’t worry. You are like me.”

“If I was like you, Jungkook would lean on me,” turning around, “but he doesn’t.”

There was a pause as Jimin sat down on the edge of the bed, hand on the other’s knobbly knee.

“He leans on us both.”

Laughing and turning away, “Go to hell.”

Cutting his eyes at Taehyung, “I’m already there, aren’t you?”

When the other continued to play the piano, Jimin changed his own tune, “I know what you hear,” he leaned in, “the drums are only the beginning. He will split you like cowhide. But you will be the bearer of terrible actions which is why you should never have returned.”

The handsome boy widened his brown eyes and parted thick lips, “W-what do you mean?”

Park Jimin smirked sadly, “We both know you have the worst kind of schizophrenia. It will only get worse, ravage your mind and no one will be able to stop you. You must go if you want your loved ones to be safe.”

A sickly silence chases the peculiar prediction.

The younger by two months gulped as his stomach drops, “I want you to leave our house Jimin. Your aura is unlucky, you are a vile pest,” he spat, eyebrows furrowed and huge eyes dangerous.

But Jimin no longer felt small. Rather, he felt empowered at the belittling. He felt something strong enter him, “Fine, have it your way. But Jungkook is mine. I have marked every inch of him in and out, so stay the away,” he prodded Taehyung’s forehead, “If you know what’s good for you.”

Slapping his hand away, Taehyung bit his lip with anger and clenched his fists. Wanting to kill this insignificant, he settled for a challenge. “I don’t like repeating myself. If you don’t leave Jungkook alone, I-”

Smirking, “You think I’m scared of you? A boy who can’t rise to my challenge?” Both were now standing as Jimin circled the other with an uncanny grin, “a boy who can’t even kill himself properly?” Lowering his voice, “you are a pathetic shell Kim Taehyung.”

Turning to meet dark eyes, the beautiful boy snarled, “I may be all of that,” his smile stretched from ear to ear, “But do you know something Park Jimin? Yoongi is coming for you. And I won’t stop him.”

Jimin whipped his head so fast his neck cracked. He brushed hair back as every syllable sunk in, his mind a whirlpool of emotions. Upon hearing the missing name, his eyes spoke what his heart couldn’t.

The equal seemed confused at the sudden softness in Jimin’s eyes. They were like a child’s.

“Y-Yoon...gi?” He muttered childishly.

It was Taehyung’s turn, “Stay the away from my Jungkook. Touch him again and I’ll break your bones.”

A voice interrupted their face off.

“Jimin! Time to go to school!”

A wave of reality flooded the atmosphere.

“Coming!” Jimin shouted back calmly, as though nothing took place. He smiled to Taehyung before placing one hand on his cheek, “If you don’t leave, you will hurt Jungkook.”  

The younger is confused, “ing get out.”

“You need to fight it like we did Tae-”

“I said leave.”

“Do not let Wither overcome you.”

“Leave god damn it!” Taehyung yelled as Jimin needn’t be told thrice. Yoongi’s name gave him ethereal hope. The line between truth and lie is blurred, but considering he hasn’t heard the name in six years, something penetrated hi