Bright lights.

They were friends. He felt protected when they were around, illuminating every single detail in the room although there really wasn’t much to begin with.  The walls were prettier when the white-wash was peeling off; cracks decorating each corner like delicate spider webs. Somehow after a while he cannot decide if the cracks were cracks or spider webs. They were pretty anyway and he didn’t need the truth here. What good would it do him anyway?

But with bright lights, he could see what was coming. Well, at least he would know what he was dealing with; at least he would know how to fight back.

Two eyelids fluttered as Kyuhyun tried to clear the mind-numbing fog that was his vision, the lights flooding in and calling tears. He should have gotten used to it by now but nevertheless he still hated the fogginess. But hatred was in some ways still better than fear. Any time now he’d be coming to turn his whole world into mayhem again. It was only a matter of time. Now that the nurses and guards were away, now that it was time for bed again. He had forgotten when was the last time he was allowed out of his room with all the furniture bolted to the floor.

His left arm clutched the other tightly, eyes darting left and right vigilantly for any sign of movement. He silenced his shallow and quick breaths when he thought he heard footsteps, trying to decide if they came from outside or from within the small room. The sound of his heart thumping against his chest grew more rapid and louder by the second he wished he could turn the volume down. He bit on his lower lip; if they were outside, it would mean he was safe. But if they came from in here…

Sweat beaded his frigid forehead as the footsteps grew louder. How many feet did they belong to? He could no longer hold his breaths to silence, heedlessly letting them roll out in quick gasps. With one clammy and shaky hand, he quickly reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a small crucifix tied to a silver chain, something he had been given secretly by someone familiar, someone close to him, someone who would protect him from the dark.

Someone he could trust.

“Remember this when you’re scared, remember me when you’re alone.”

The thumping of his heart softened a little at the thought of his comforting voice as a flash of his silhouette played in front of his eyes. Tall and handsome; a soldier of light, no less. Secretly he wished he could be like him, but he’d never admit it in front of him. Too much of a coward, too afraid, but he hated to admit it.

The ominous feeling loomed again as the bright lights started flickering wilder than they should. The footsteps had stopped and the owner of the feet was standing in the opposite corner of the room from where he was crouched down on the cheap linoleum floor. He had started to shake rather badly by then, wishing desperately that he was wearing more than just a bare hospital gown. Blonde strips of sweat-matted hair swayed annoyingly in front of his eyes, fringing his vision.

“H-he sent you, didn’t he?”

He didn’t mind the pain that was screaming from where the crucifix was digging into his palm in his tight grip. The faceless man who had appeared in the room said nothing in return, donning a neat black suit with a black umbrella in one hand, unmoving and as silent as ever in the stark contrast against the white walls.

“No, you’re not real. I know you’re not, you’re not. You can’t hurt me. He promised me he won’t let anyone hurt me!” he shouted hoarsely and his dry throat hurt with every syllable that squeezed out. The faceless man made no sound still, seemingly rooted to where he stood, staring at him with invisible eyes where they should be residing in the dark empty sockets.

“Tell him I know he’s not real, you’re not real! None of this is real! This is all in my mind, nothing else!” he screamed this time, mind willing everything to disappear; his body shuddering more violently than before.

The faceless man shook his head finally in a slow and steady motion, starting to close in on the distance between the two of them as the clicking sounds of his jet-black, shiny shoes bounced off loudly from the floor, ringing resoundingly in Kyuhyun’s ears.

He shuffled away on all fours frantically as the man came nearer and nearer, slow and loud footsteps never ceasing. The crucifix had begun to draw blood from his palm but the stinging pain somehow was the only shred of comfort he had left in the turmoil of panic and fear. Siwon should be coming now, he would come to save him and everything will be over…He closed his eyes shut and muttered a hasty prayer the man had once taught him, but in times like these he wondered if they were of any use. No, he promised…he promised to be there…just for him…just for him…Faith, must have faith.

it, just save me.

He backed all the way up against the wall when he realized he had nowhere else to run or hide, the door was way too far out of his reach. The faceless man was merely a few feet away in front of him now, coming to a halt. As Kyuhyun watched in utter terror, the man reached for his big black umbrella and gave it a suave shake. The blonde boy’s eyes were beginning to sting with hot tears filling to the brim, threatening to fall anytime soon. Both his clammy hands clamored to hold onto the crucifix tinged with scarlet.

Please save me, please don’t let him get me.

The faceless man made no sound while he motioned to open the umbrella slowly, releasing the clasp and then shaking it around in slow motion; ashen-coloured hand reaching the cold metal insides of the umbrella. The sound of the umbrella opening filled the air was followed by sudden enveloping of the whole room in darkness. Kyuhyun screamed.

Stabbing pain shot from all over his body in the dark, seemingly etching lines onto his skin. He threw his hands overhead trying to fight them off, screams reducing to loud raspy sobs. The man was carving him bit by bit with little flying knives that came from under the umbrella, accompanied by searing hot pain that flashed across his skin all over.

He continued screaming; eyes wide open in the dark but seeing nothing.

The bright lights flickered to life again as the door opened finally. It was him; finally someone had come to help him to get away from the faceless man. Finally someone had come to save him.

Siwon.

“It’s alright, Kyuhyun! I’m here, it’s me, Siwon!”

His skin hurt from all over from the smoldering scarlet lines etched on him. He will be scarred for sure this time, but never mind that. The man he could trust with all his heart was here.

Take me away, take me away….

“Siwon, you have to start the injection!”

The voice sounded familiar. Sungmin? Why was he here too? Faraway murmurs in the background he couldn’t distinguish filled the air.

“I can’t…I can’t…”It was the first time he heard the tall man’s shaky voice.

“I’m sorry, Kyuhyun, but you’d have to keep still!”

Many pairs of arms suddenly grabbed hold of his limbs as his whole body started to writhe. There were so many people in white surrounding him suddenly as his vision began to come to focus again.

“What are you doing?!” he asked in the confusion, whole body growing colder as he continued resisting them even when he was forced down on something. It felt soft. The horrible feeling inside him exploded when he noticed that the faceless man in black was still there, standing quietly behind the crowd of people wrestling him down; an impossibly wide smile suddenly appearing there and staring right back at him. He quickly changed his focus to the one in front of him.

Kyuhyun’s bloodshot eyes widened as far as they could go as he realized vaguely what the tall man was holding in his hand, flicking the syringe lightly before a steam of liquid spurted out. His stomach sank to the bottom of a pit as he begin to grow limp in their grips, yet all the pain in his heart was burning hotter that the lines on his skin.

Aren’t you here to help me…to save me…? Not like this.

 “Sorry...sorry…”were the only two words he could barely hear as an invisible veil fell over his senses; his handsome face drooped in a sad way Kyuhyun had never wanted to see as he withdrew, slowly fading away as he remembered tasting the salty taste of tears in his mouth.

And the bright lights, they faded out of his sight again…as much as he wanted to hold on to them.

Somebody had yanked the cold silver out of his slippery curled fist.

Sleep well.

---