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jinxhallows · 2 months

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𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 .

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☾ -- ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs

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ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ -- @sikebishes @hamburgers101 @felix-housewife @agnes-king @exfolitae @brojustfknkillm3 @skzswife @just-randomm-stuff @thunderous-wolf @3rachasninja @katsukis1wife @hanjingin @mylilliposts

☾ -- ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ? ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ

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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ | ᴡᴄ: 8.6ᴋ

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A dense smoky fog blankets the ground as you navigate through it, obscuring everything but the silhouette of barren trees in the distance. Their branches reach out like grasping fingers, lending an air of malevolence to the journey. It feels as though every element of the landscape is vying for a piece of your soul.

The vampires, purportedly devoid of soul, remain unaffected by the eerie atmosphere. Jisung, however, betrays his unease by idly rubbing his amulet between his fingers. Though he maintains his stoic facade, a flicker of apprehension glimmers in his eyes as he catches your gaze. His smile is unfamiliar, lacking its usual warmth—it's akin to the polite nod given to a stranger who holds open a door.

This isn't the Jisung you're accustomed to.

Time is running short for Jisung. He's almost resigned to his fate, harboring a faint hope for a swift, painless end once this journey concludes. The prospect of returning home to face the slow decay of his essence over the remaining years weighs on him.

Thoughts of his long-lost fiancée flit through his mind. He's yet to encounter her in his frequent visits to the afterlife, but perhaps he'll spend his eternity seeking her out instead of perpetually evading death.

A tender glance at your stomach reveals his excitement at the thought of becoming an uncle. Even though he likely won't be around to see it happen, he finds comfort in knowing that your child will carry his legacy through their magical bloodline. Someday, they'll cross paths again.

The dark aura emanating from the coyote demon casts a shadow over the group. The silence is difficult to tolerate in its absolute stillness. Wasn't this supposed to be the most dangerous part of the journey? Only a day ago, you were under siege by demons, yet now, on the brink of the final stretch, there's nothing. Certainly, if there were something in the distance, any one of the supernatural creatures on your sides would be able to detect it.

Hyunjin listens to the crunch of twigs under his feet, lost in his thoughts. He ponders his mother's cryptic words, wondering if tonight will mark the loss of one of his brothers. Maybe even you. Hyunjin had grown incredibly fond of you, and you had earned his loyalty by rescuing him.

Hyunjin even entertains the idea that it should be him instead. Many uncertainties plague his mind. Returning to the mortal world has been a jarring experience, and true peace eludes him. Hyunjin wonders if he'll ever find any sort of peace, or if this perpetual unrest is his eternal atonement for past sins.

"Hold on, you see that?" Chan's voice breaks through Hyunjin's runaway train of thought, directing everyone's attention to a sudden clearing that appears before you, seemingly out of nowhere. The forest, dense and forbidding just moments ago, now yields to an expansive open space. The nearby sounds of water reach your ears, and squinting reveals the clearing's boundary—a cliff shrouded in thick fog. The archway formed by the bending trees at the cliff's edge invites them to peer beyond, where the natural sky seems to disappear. The impending sunrise has vanished from view, leaving behind a darkness that blankets the forest in a timeless haze.

"This must be it, I can feel it." Santiago declares, drawing a deep breath as he surveys their surroundings, his senses on high alert despite his formidable power. He didn't clue anyone else in on it, but he had a strange feeling that they were being followed the last hour of travel. When nobody else made note of it, he attributed it to the twisted curse of this place and let it go.

Is this Abysmora? Or does it lie beyond this mysterious veil of smoke?

You wrap your arms around yourself tightly, a surge of nausea unsettling your stomach.

"What did you say?" Chan's concerned voice breaks through your thoughts as he turns to check on you, his expression puzzled by a sound he thought he heard.

"I didn't say anything," you reply, feeling perplexed. Had your thoughts accidentally slipped out aloud?

"Weird. I could've sworn I heard something," Chan mutters, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Maybe your mind's playing tricks on you," Jisung suggests, joining the conversation. "I didn't hear anything either."

Chan is still skeptical, approaching you with a frown. He squats down to press his ear against your stomach, and you allow the gesture, gently resting your hand on his head, the weight of the moment heavy amidst the strangeness of the situation. Standing up, he scans the group, finding no confirmation of his earlier perception.

"Nobody else heard it?" he asks, met with shaking heads all around, including yours.

"In Abysmora, believe only half of what you see and nothing you hear," Santiago advises, breaking the tension. "I don't wanna tempt Fate; she can be cynical. We have to pay the Coyote demon before we cross over." You avoid eye contact as Santiago looks at you again, instead averting your eyes to the coyote demon close to the water. Somehow, your anger has shed it's skin to reveal your fragile hurt. You wonder why you aren't worthy of the truth from him, even now, after all you had accomplished.

The sight of your mysterious guide at the cliff's edge draws your attention like a moth to a flame. It hovers there, a few inches above the ground, an enigmatic presence, its form shrouded in shadow. Despite its lack of eyes, it seems to peer intently at the ground below, as if deciphering some hidden message written in the earth itself. The air around it crackles with an otherworldly energy, adding to its mystique as it stands sentinel at the edge of the abyss.

"I'm sorry, pay him? With what?" Jisung's voice rings with alarm.

"What do you think, my friend?" Santiago responds, unsheathing his knife. "Our life force." With determined steps, he approaches the coyote demon, and the rest of the group follows suit. It remains unfazed, its attention fixed firmly on the ground. You cling tighter to Chan, who slows to let you grip his arm.

With a wave of its bony hand over the water's edge, a makeshift raft emerges from the foamy stream. It appears flimsy, like a discarded piece of construction material, hardly capable of supporting its own weight, let alone the rush of the rapids with you all atop it. Yet, it remains steady, held aloft by the coyote demon's power. Santiago steps forward first, slicing his palm and allowing blood to spill onto the demon's outstretched hand. Every drop is absorbed without a trace, prompting Felix to follow suit, eyeing the demon warily before adding his own sacrifice. Jisung, surprisingly, steps up next, his usually cautious demeanor overshadowed by the gravity of the situation.

Hyunjin's turn comes next, and as you and Chan approach, a sense of dread begins to well up within you. The fear seems to seep from the ground itself, creeping up your legs and constricting your throat.

Chan, hearing something again, looks down at you, his expression troubled. It's a sound he can't quite place, like a whisper in his mind, indecipherable yet unsettling. He blames it on Abysmora's influence, steeling himself against its effects as he watches Hyunjin make his offering.

As you and Chan present your own blood sacrifices, the sting of the cut fades, replaced by a tingling sensation that signifies rapid healing. Chan pulls you close, whispering words of reassurance as he guides you onto the raft. "I think she's helping you," he murmurs, speaking of the unborn child you two share and her mysterious powers. You wish those powers could alleviate the nausea that still lingers, but as if in response to your wish, the sickness vanishes without a trace.

Jisung's voice trembles with a mix of anxiety and bravado as he settles onto the raft. "How sure are we that we’re gonna survive this waterfall drop?" he asks, his words filled with a nervous energy.

Santiago's response cuts through the tension. "You're asking the wrong questions," he declares cryptically. “I’m still in a mortal body that has never been to Abysmora, about to go over a waterfall, what questions am I supposed to be asking right now?”

Perched on the edge of uncertainty, you suppress a chuckle at Jisung's retort, stealing a glance at Felix, who struggles to conceal his amusement behind clenched lips.

“The toll is paid.”

With a final decree from the coyote demon, the atmosphere shifts. The ethereal guide dissolves into obsidian mist, and in an instant, the raft is swept into the rushing current.

Chan's arms encircle you protectively as you bury your head in his chest. His embrace offers a semblance of security, though beneath the surface, fear lies in wait in his veins. It's not the fear of death that grips him, but the fear of loss—of you, of his brothers, Jisung; of the life he's only just begun to consider worth living.

Chan yearns to utter words of comfort, to quell the storm raging within you.

Casting a sidelong glance toward Hyunjin, he extends a tentative gesture of affection, seeking to bridge the chasm between them. Though initially stiff under the weight of fraternal embrace, Hyunjin gradually yields to Chan's touch.

Across the raft, Felix's gaze meets Chan's in a quiet exchange. But before their unspoken bond can solidify, in an instant, the world tilts on its axis as the raft hurtles over the precipice, plunging into the yawning abyss below.

For a heart-stopping moment, gravity claims dominion, and the sensation of free fall grips you all. The wind whips around you, snatching at your clothes, your hair, as you all hurtle downward into the void.

But just as suddenly as it began, the vertiginous descent comes to a halt. The world around you seems to freeze, time itself holding its breath as the raft settles into the stillness of Abysmora's dark embrace. "Fucking Hell—" Felix's expletive pierces the air, jolting you from your reverie.

"Jisung, little witch, are you—" He begins to ask, worrying for the mortal passengers.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. You?" Jisung's voice wavers with the remnants of adrenaline.

"I'm... still here," you manage, your voice a fragile whisper amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

Chan's senses begin getting assaulted by a familiar itch—a primal instinct clawing at the edges of his consciousness.

Surely, he’s not going to turn? Not now? Not like this?

The same inexplicable murmur tugs at Chan's senses once more, this time drawing his attention squarely to your stomach. An involuntary pang of tenderness wells up within him, a protective instinct he struggles to suppress. And for that second, perhaps two, he doesn't feel his monster trying to come up for air. With a will of its own, his gaze flits away, his jaw clenching with the effort to regain control.

‘Abysmora is playing tricks on my mind,’ Chan reminds himself sternly, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of uncertainty. He grapples with the realization that, in this strange realm, he may not be able to shield you and his daughter as he wishes.

But the memory of Amelia, her sacrifice, cuts through the haze of his thoughts like a knife to the heart. He can still feel her absence, a haunting guilt for the price paid for their survival. Chan's arms wrap tightly around himself, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket in a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the present, to get out of his own head, to banish the ghosts of the past that threaten to consume him.

The raft creeps languidly through the dense, murky waters, now a deep, suffocating shade of purple that seems to swallow light rather than reflect it. The waters are calm, yet their opacity hints at untold depths and secrets submerged beneath. Small islets punctuate the expanse like broken teeth, each hosting clusters of weathered gravestones that stand as silent keepers of forgotten lives. Some stones are cloaked in a dense mantle of moss, their inscriptions eroded by time, while others lean precariously, half-engulfed by the encroaching, swamp-like embrace of the water.

The air itself seems to congeal around you, infected with a sense of despair and decay.

As the raft drifts aimlessly, a disturbing ambiance pervades, heightened by the mist that clings to every surface, weaving through the air like the breath of the isle itself. This mist carries with it an odor so foul, a blend of rotting flesh, sulfur and damp, decayed wood, that it assaults the senses, a physical manifestation of the corruption that seeps from the very soil of this place.

“Oh God, I- I don’t feel good–” Jisung body convulses slightly as he heaves over the side of the raft, expelling a noxious, black substance—a memory of his earlier possession. The sight is disturbingly out of place against the backdrop of unnatural stillness that surrounds you. He coughs violently, a raw, hacking sound that seems too loud in the oppressive silence, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand, his expression one of revulsion and deep unease.

He speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, but it's clear the very air of Abysmora is anathema to him, a venom to his senses. “I can’t…I don’t think I can be here very long.” "I don’t think any of us can…” Felix's voice carries his concern, tasting the bitterness of the venom in his mouth, something he hasn't felt in a long time. Swallowing becomes a chore as the acrid taste spreads, worsening his already noticeable thirst. He keeps his discomfort to himself, knowing his brothers need him now more than ever. Despite the absence of the Full Moon tonight, Abysmora's sky holds no celestial bodies, just an endless void stretching upward into an unseen realm.

“Where’s Santiago?” The question of Santiago's whereabouts lingers, as you survey the desolate landscape. Memories of the heated argument with him resurface his words cutting deep. Could he have abandoned the group at the gate, his duty fulfilled by merely delivering you to Abysmora? The worry eats at you, the fear that your past conflicts might have jeopardized the journey for everyone, with no guide to navigate the treacherous unknown ahead.

None of you have any experience in Abysmora, a daunting realization. It's a frightening thought, to be on an even playing field with some of the strongest creatures you’ve come to know, and all the while carrying your first child. In truth, Hyunjin has rejected the idea of forming an alliance with Santiago for some time, ever since he inadvertently overheard the conversation back at Lysandra's. Despite the pressing need to focus on capturing Santiago after the Blood Bloom, time constraints forced the brothers to prioritize other tasks. However, with Santiago's sudden disappearance, urgency seeps into their thoughts, amplifying their concerns. Finally, the raft nudges against the mainland with a soft, almost imperceptible thud, coming to rest at the edge of a larger isle. Here, the tombs are more imposing, grander in their decay, arranged in a deliberate circle that borders the perimeter.

These larger mausoleums and monuments loom like giants, their shadows casting long, dark fingers across the ground as if to welcome—or warn—any who dare to trespass. It feels even heavier here, if possible, threaded with a history of sorrow and darkness that permeates the very ground upon which you’re about to stand.

"No time to figure it out," Chan declares, rising to his feet, his actions prompting the others to follow suit. Stepping onto the mainland, he extends a hand to assist you ashore. Meanwhile, Hyunjin swiftly rips off and repurposes the hood of his jacket into a makeshift mask, covering Jisung's nose and mouth for protection. “There you are!” Santiago turns the corner of a mausoleum and lays eyes on you. He seems out of breath, worked up as he shakes his head, catching up with everyone.

And yet, despite his outward appearance of concern, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his urgency—a subtle shift in demeanor that leaves you feeling uneasy in his presence. You hadn’t felt this just moments earlier getting on the raft with him.

“How did we get separated?” Santiago asks.

You are the first to answer, unaware of the suspicions of everyone else and just relieved to see another familiar face again. Though, that nagging doubt gnaws at your mind, whispering of the questions surrounding his sudden reappearance.

You wonder if Abysmora is playing mind tricks on you too?

“No idea, but we’re all here, Jisung’s getting sick, we’ve gotta get the Blood Bloom and get out of here.” You look around, “But where is it?” "In there." Santiago's gesture directs your attention to a towering statue of a knight, its sword thrust upward toward the darkened sky. "It's always inside the tomb of the One, the very first of our kind." Santiago approaches the statue, touching it with reverence, in a way that strikes you as odd, because it’s as if he hasn’t seen it before, and Santiago said he had taken prior trips to Abysmora, albeit via other routes.

He must know what the tomb of the “One” looks like? Right?

Muttering under his breath in an unfamiliar tongue, Santiago circles the statue, his intent clear as he seeks a means of entry.

Felix, ever perceptive, senses a subtle shift in Santiago's aura. Vampires as ancient as he can detect things far beyond micro expressions in mortal faces, no matter what’s wearing the skin. It’s how they can tell when something isn’t exactly human, or when mortals lie. Yet, this time, something feels different. Is Santiago under some form of influence? What drives him to lead them into the depths of this tomb? He hears the spells the archdemon chants but doesn’t recognize the tongue.

"Where did you land?" Felix's inquiry interrupts Santiago's prayer, prompting him to refocus his attention. As you join in the search, kneeling amidst the moist earth, the ground squirms with repulsive creatures disturbed from their slumber by your intrusion.

"Land?" Santiago straightens up, his confusion evident. "I just woke up behind that grave," he gestures toward a nearby tomb. "I have no idea what happened." His explanation is abruptly interrupted by Jisung's retching, the soul of this environment taking its toll on him once more. As Jisung lifts his makeshift mask to expel another bout of black, putrid vomit onto the soil, Santiago's attention remains fixated on unlocking the tomb's secrets.

Hyunjin, growing impatient, voices his concern, stepping back to avoid the splatter onto his shoes with a lifted brow. "Can't you do something about him? We can't exactly conjure."

"It's my bloodline—" Jisung's words are punctuated by another fit of dry heaving. "I can't—my body—"

You spring into action, rushing to Jisung's side with mounting worry. His suffering raises questions about the influence of this place, and you fear for the well-being of his soul.

"Jisung, tell me what to do," you plead, desperation clear in your voice as he struggles for breath. But Jisung, consumed by his own distress, cannot offer guidance. With trembling hands, you place your palm against his stomach, channeling an unfamiliar power in a desperate attempt to alleviate his suffering. As your energy flows into his body, Jisung convulses one last time before finding his breath returning in ragged gasps.

Santiago stays oblivious to the commotion around him, his concentration fixed on the statue, lost in prayer with closed eyes. Meanwhile, Hyunjin's attention wavers as he catches the scent of blood emanating from your ear, a telltale sign of overuse of your conjure. His sudden cough startles you, drawing curious glances from his brothers as he hurriedly wipes his nose, trying to conceal his reaction. The scent reaches Felix next, prompting you to check yourself, and your fingers come away stained with blood. Panic sets in as you hastily wipe your neck with your hoodie sleeve, inadvertently spreading the stain further into the fabric.

You’ve made it so much worse, and you don’t even know it. "This can't be what I think it is," Chan says as he uncovers something amidst the infested soil. He holds up a fragment that appears to be from a golden beret, the gold melted over one of the encased jewels, evidence of a failed attempt at destruction. "Do you see this or am I imagining things?" Felix's heart races as he snatches the fragment from his brother's hand, his senses heightened to every sound, every scent around him. "This is it, this is... I have no doubt," he declares, his voice tight with apprehension. He turns to Hyunjin, whose eyes are fixed on the cursed fragment a few feet away. But instead of their usual crystal blue, they shimmer with a bright amber hue, a telltale sign of a loss of control. Hyunjin shuts his eyes tightly, fighting against the onslaught of disturbing images flooding his mind. He feels the creeping sensation of tiny toothed imps devouring his flesh in the depths of Purgatory, a sensation he fights against with every fiber of his being. Is it the curse or is it just him?

Passing the fragment to Chan, Felix approaches Hyunjin; and he gently shakes his younger brother from his trance, their eyes meet, and Felix is struck by the vulnerability in those familiar baby blues, a contrast to the centuries of resilience he's come to expect.

"Brother, what’s—how do you feel?" Felix's voice is soft, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual stoicism. He sees the innocence in Hyunjin once more, a vulnerable human amidst the vast expanse of their immortal existence.

“Afraid, brother,” Hyunjin confesses, his voice laced with raw emotion. He blinks back the bitterness in his eyes, unable to maintain the eye contact with Felix. “I can’t go through this again. I–I can’t, I’ll die, Felix. I’ll die first.” Felix's voice cuts through the chaos, gentle yet firm, as he addresses his brother. "Hey now," he begins, his words carrying a sense of his own certainty, a vow to himself amidst the uncertainty surrounding them.

"I’ll die before you go through that again."

Hyunjin meets Felix's gaze, feeling a rush of emotions within him. Even that has become foreign after being gone for so long; feeling emotions he'd forgotten the weight of. In that moment of silent connection, he senses the weight of their bond, built over countless centuries of shared trials and unspoken understanding. Despite the shadows of their tumultuous past looming over them, Hyunjin finds safety in the unwavering intensity of Felix's gaze, a silent promise of protection and support. This rediscovered depth in their relationship speaks volumes, highlighting the profound significance they both place on each other's well-being.

━━━━━━━━ The tension in the room is filled with anger and resentment as Chan confronts his younger brother, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Hyunjin's defiance matches his elder sibling's intensity, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury.

"Are you mad, brother?! You're in bloodlust!" Chan's words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable dripping with disbelief and frustration. He can't comprehend Hyunjin's actions, can't fathom the depths of his rage.

"Now you've killed her son?! Amelia's brother?!" Chan's accusation hangs in the air, a damning indictment of Hyunjin's actions.

"Did her mother not take our parents from us first?!" Hyunjin's retort is sharp, laced with bitterness and grief. To him, his actions are justified, a reckoning for the injustices inflicted upon their family.

But Chan's anger simmers, threatening to boil over as he struggles to contain his emotions. With a roar of frustration, he hurls a nearby chair against the wall, the sound of splintering wood punctuating the heated exchange.

"Those were my parents too," Chan's voice is raw with emotion, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and fury. "Do you not think me furious as well? Do you doubt that I too, want to drink from their hearts and watch them fall to my feet?!"

Hyunjin stands his ground, undeterred by his brother's outburst. He remains unshaken, fueled by a burning desire for justice.

"Yes, Christophe, I do!" Hyunjin's words are a challenge, a testament to his unwavering conviction. "I doubt you want to do anything more than run with your tail between your legs, defending a traitorous witch, the very daughter of the woman who murdered our parents!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the closed door, Amelia stands frozen, her hand hovering over the doorknob. A cool hand touches her shoulder, and she turns to find Felix by her side. His silent guidance urges her to stay back, to let the brothers work through their grievances without interference.

As they move a few steps away from the door, Amelia embraces him, softly crying into the fabric of his blouse. Felix's thoughts churn with concern. The arguments between his brothers have become more frequent, fueled by Hyunjin's growing impatience and resentment. His thirst for vengeance risks engulfing him, driving them to move twice in the last four months alone.

Felix knows Hyunjin cannot be contained, his actions driven by a primal need for retribution. Yet, despite his own fury towards Amelia's family, he understands the futility of their situation. They are newborn vampires--outnumbered, outmatched, and outsmarted without a plan.

But what troubles Felix the most is Chan's hesitance, his reluctance to act. And as they stand in silence, away from the fight unfolding on the other side of the door, Felix can't shake the feeling that something is amiss, something he can't quite put his finger on…

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"Santiago," Chan's voice cuts through the tension, his gaze fixed on the archdemon who is still engrossed in his task. With each passing moment, Santiago's words grow more rapid, fueled by a sense of passion that borders on obsession. Chan moves closer, reaching out to get Santiago's attention. "Santiago, hey–"

The statue begins to shift, its movement accompanied by the harsh scraping of rock and the unsettling rumble of the earth beneath their feet. Hissing echoes around you as the creatures in the soil turn aggressive, some leaping into the air with fangs bared. Hyunjin reacts swiftly, his movements a blur as he dispatches several of the creatures with deadly precision.

"Protect this at all costs," Chan's command is clear and direct as he locks eyes with you, a brief flash of amber in his gaze before he blinks it away. He presses the beret fragment into your hand, urging you to keep it safe.

“Come on, hurry!” Santiago hurries down the stairs into the tomb. You tuck the fragment into your bra and the rest of you have no time to think, and you follow behind, risking the chance that being in the tomb of the very first demon in creation would be safer than being on Abysmora's grounds, exposed.

If there was anything lurking in this strange place, they certainly know they have unwelcome visitors now. Jisung's condition noticeably improves as the darkness envelops them, the sickness that had plagued him fading into the blackness. Yet, amidst the near pitch-black surroundings, a distant blue glow emanates from a room at the far end of the underground tunnel. Backed by a surge of adrenaline, you act swiftly, your fingers darting like arrows to ignite the sconces along the walls. Each flame catches, casting a blue hue that bathes the chamber in its glow. As the dim blue glow from the sconces barely penetrates the darkness, Jisung finds himself momentarily awed by your ingenuity. But any sense of accomplishment is swiftly overshadowed by the atmosphere closing in around you. The tomb of the first demon ever to exist feels suffocating, each breath tainted by the heavy, musty scent of centuries past. With each inhale, Jisung's heart flutters nervously. In an attempt to summon his conjure to navigate the path ahead, Jisung encounters an unexpected resistance, as though an invisible force is constricting his abilities. A dryness creeps into his mouth, he can’t be powerless yet?! How is this possible?! You were able to light the way without hesitation.

"Now what?" You whisper, your voice barely audible over the silence. Turning to seek guidance from Santiago, you find him vanished once more.

"What the–"

"Little witch, we can’t trust him," Felix's voice cuts through the darkness, his hand pulling you closer to the rough stone wall for protection.

"But he said–"

"It doesn’t matter what he’s said," Felix's tone is firm, his words tinged with urgency. "We can’t trust him."

With no other options available, Hyunjin strides ahead, his figure disappearing into the hallway, with Jisung following closely behind. There is no turning back now, no room for hesitation. You’ve come too far to retreat, your only choice is to press onward. The confines of the tomb seem to be closing in on Chan, the primal instincts of his wolf beginning to overwhelm him. Sensing the impending shift, he knows he must act quickly, not willing to risk losing control in such close quarters, especially with you nearby.

With a determined step backward, Chan starts to unzip his hoodie, preparing for the inevitable transformation. His voice carries a note of urgency as he speaks to Felix, his brother, and you. "Felix, you and little witch go on ahead with the others. I’ll catch up with you soon."

Felix puts his arm around your shoulders and obeys his elder brother’s command.

As Chan's metamorphosis reverberates through the ancient confines of the tomb, each sinewy shift heralds the awakening of primordial forces. A chill snakes down your spine at the power unleashed, but with Felix's presence guiding you onward, there's little room for fear, only purpose.

Stepping into the chamber's heart, you feel a lack of control, like you've stepped into public in the nude. This feeling sticks to you as if you're an insect on fly paper, the discomfort follows you. Your gaze is drawn to the raised platform, where a mummified figure cradles a flower in its desiccated grasp. Against the backdrop of darkness, the bloom's vibrant hues stand in defiance, its petals swirling in an ethereal dance. On the opposite end, Jisung stands watchful, his focus unwavering as he hovers over the coffin. Bathed in the soft azure glow of the chandelier above, the scene unfolds like a tableau of strange beauty, casting shadows that dance across the chamber's walls.

Your breath catches as you draw near, the allure of the flower irresistible. Its petals, delicate yet sinuous, seem to pulse with a life of their own, their crimson hue a vivid sign of its unearthly vitality. And at the heart, a pool of crimson gleams with luminescence, a symbol of the bloom's power.

"This is it," you murmur, your voice a mere whisper amidst the hallowed silence of the tomb. "The Blood Bloom."

Jisung's brows furrow in disbelief, his head shaking in denial. “The legend I remember said it grows in the soil of Abysmora…” Despite his hesitance, he leans forward, sensing the same energy that grips you both.

As a sudden stillness envelops the chamber, Jisung's instincts flare, a warning pulsing through his veins. With a sense of alarm, he whirls around, calling out for his missing companions. "Felix? Hyunjin?" His voice echoes off the stone walls, met only by silence.

Your palms grow clammy, fear prickling at the nape of your neck. "What's happening? What's wrong?" you stammer. "Oh look, you found it!" Santiago's voice cuts through the tension, his arrival heralded by a sense of impending doom. Panic floods your veins as you instinctively back away, only to be ensnared by a vice-like grip from behind. Your breath catches in your throat, your thoughts racing to the safety of your unborn child, as fear tightens its grip on your heart.

"H-Hyunjin..." The name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper, finally realizing the scent. Your body tenses, every nerve on edge as you struggle to keep your composure.

Before Jisung can react, Felix is upon him, his strength overwhelming as he wrestles the younger man into submission. You look to Santiago, the sight before you twisting your stomach into knots. His head lolls to the side with a sickening crack, a grotesque contortion of flesh and bone. As his eyes roll back into his skull, his skin begins to slough off like molten wax, revealing a smaller, naked figure beneath.

This new form is like something out of a nightmare, its skin slick with a viscous substance that oozes and drips. The creature's features are twisted and deformed, elongated limbs and sharp, angular joints giving it a disturbed appearance. Its eyes, once human, now gleam with a endless black, reflecting the depths of its sinister nature.

As the demon's gaze fixes upon you, a shiver runs down your spine, fear gripping you with icy fingers. As Jisung struggles against Felix's overpowering grip, his frustration mounts with each futile attempt to break free. Heat radiates from his palms, a manifestation of his inner turmoil, but it's as if an invisible barrier stifles his efforts, rendering his conjure useless.

“The audacity only a Han would have, trying to use your conjure here, now don’t you know better? Then again, you want to die, don’t you?” The demon's voice drips with malice, taunting Jisung with cruel words.

Jisung refuses to dignify the demon's words with a response, his jaw clenched tight in defiance. Beneath his poker face, a sort of fear dances in his eyes. The demon's insight and access into his psyche unnerves him, exposing vulnerabilities he'd rather keep hidden.

“I have a name, you know.” The demon's grin widens, revealing a mouth lined with jagged, razor-sharp teeth. “Do you want to know it?”

“Oliver,” you breathe, the name escaping your lips like a curse, triggering a flood of memories from your night terrors that you'd rather forget. "She's smart, isn't she?" Oliver's voice drips with malicious intent, each word laced with venomous glee. The knowledge that you know his name seems to egg on his perverse joy, a sickening trophy of the power he holds over you, a feeling he rarely gets to feel in his own existence. In the dimly lit chamber, his grin casts twisted shadows across the walls.

As your gaze darts nervously around the room, searching for any sign of escape, the sound of sloshing footsteps draws your attention to another presence lurking in the shadows. With a sickening lurch of your stomach, you realize that you're not alone, the presence of another demon sending a wave of fear over you.

The unnamed demon drags a large and furry form into the chamber, its tortured cries echoing off the walls as it's callously thrown against the unforgiving stone. Your heart sinks in your chest at the sight.

"NO!" Your voice rings out in a desperate plea, the words torn from your throat in a frantic rush. "Hyunjin, let go of me! Stop! This isn't you! That's your brother! Felix! Felix, it's me! Y/N! You're stronger than this! All of you are!" But your cries fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the cruel laughter of the demons that surround you.

"Chan—Chan, please," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos unfolding around you. Exhausted and defeated, you sink to the ground, your body wracked with sobs as despair threatens to eat you alive and spit you back out with no remorse. "Y/N, stop," Jisung's voice cuts through the noise, his tone firm as he locks eyes with you from across the room. His gaze speaks volumes, silently urging you to quell your desperate pleas. In this moment of peril, communication is reduced to silent exchanges, a shared understanding passing between you both.

With a deep breath, you stifle your cries, recognizing the urgency of the situation. Any hope of escape hinges on maintaining composure, lest you risk losing control of your conjure before it can be wielded as a weapon against your captors.

Exhausted and defeated, you offer no resistance as Hyunjin releases his grip, allowing your body to crumple to the ground. His derisive laughter rings in your ears. Meanwhile, Oliver's attention drifts to the Blood Bloom, his excitement obvious as he revels in the discovery. “They really found it, the Blood Bloom!” His voice echoes through the chamber, a frenzied tirade of anticipation as he fixates on the object of his obsession. But his excitement is short-lived, abruptly cut off by a sudden surge of malice directed at the lesser demon.

"What are you waiting for?! Bring the Mistress!" Oliver commands, his impatience boiling over as he demands action. With a hurried nod, the lesser demon scurries away, his footsteps fading into the distance as he disappears into the darkness.

Lying on the dirt-covered brick floor, you succumb to silent tears, the weight of anguish pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. With jittery hands, you crawl forward, the distance between you and the wolf reduced to mere inches. As you nestle your face into the coarse fur of the muzzle, a gentle warmth caresses you, soothing the raw edges of your fractured spirit.

Suddenly, in the darkness, amidst the faint scent of earths and decay, you feel it—a tender brush against your nose, followed by two more delicate licks. Slowly, you open your eyes, greeted by the shimmering gold orbs of the wolf before you. It's a curious sight, this peculiar hue, but within those luminous windows to his soul, you find an unexpected solace—a glimmer of Chan's inherent spirit shining through. You continue to feign distress, your sobs a desperate symphony masking the turmoil within. Each movement is calculated, every tremor carefully choreographed to draw attention away from your clandestine actions. Your fingers venture into the wolf's mouth, inching closer to the razor-sharp teeth that threaten to sever skin from bone.

As your wrist hovers over the waiting fangs, fear coils in the pit of your stomach, a visceral reminder of the perilous dance you've chosen to partake in. But you steel yourself against the rising tide of panic, a vow echoing in the recesses of your mind. You'll fight tooth and nail, even if it means staring death in the face, for you know that within the pits of Hell lies the flickering ember of hope.

With a nod of assent, Chan's lip twitches in acknowledgment, a fleeting moment of connection. As he closes his jaws with painstaking care, the taste of blood blooms in his mouth, on his tongue, along his gums. Through gritted teeth, you endure the searing pain. Jisung's mind races as he formulates a plan to wrest control from the clutches of Oliver. With each passing second, the grip of the demon's influence tightens around the minds of Felix and Hyunjin, reducing them to mere marionettes in this macabre play.

"Felix," Jisung breathes, barely audible in the hushed chamber, "Can you hear me?"

The vice-like hold tightens, and Felix's response echoes through the silence.

"Loud and clear, mate," he replies, the words filled with a predatory glee that reminds Jisung of exactly how different they really are from one another when it comes down to being factory reset to pure instinct.

‘Shit’. A curse punctuates Jisung's thoughts; reaching them in this state seems impossible. Oliver's conjure has rewritten their essence, transforming them into instruments of darkness. To break this unholy connection, the source needs to be severed, and at this moment, Oliver stands as the puppeteer, feeble or not.

As Chan discreetly drinks from you in his wolf form, Jisung's mind churns with frustration, the invisible chains of restraint still boggling him. 'If he has me restrained, there must be a physical block somewhere' he muses, a spark of realization flickering to life amidst the darkness. 'So how is he doing it? Where is it?'

A sweeping glance around the chamber reveals the answer, hidden in plain sight. The talismans, hanging down from the ropes strung along the ceiling, catch Jisung's attention. They're no ordinary charms; they bear the unmistakable markings of Korean origin, Bujeok, but warped and twisted into a perversion of their intended purpose.

These were crafted with him in mind, designed to stifle his magic and render him powerless.

'Bingo' He knows what he must do to break free from Oliver's grip, to reclaim control and turn the tide of this deadly game. Jisung's words slice through the air with a cunning edge as he probes for weaknesses in Oliver's facade. "Possessing the minds of vampires is light work, what’d you do, a blood bind of some sort?" he questions, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Oliver's response is swift, a mixture of amusement and hubris. "Well, aren’t you an arrogant little witch?" he retorts, unknowingly stepping right into Jisung's trap. "Demons do more than blood bind to have others do our bidding."

A smirk plays at the corners of Jisung's lips as he goads Oliver further. "I guess you haven’t figured out how to get a Han to do your bidding though, so you had to use these guys," he gestures disdainfully toward the vampire restraining him. "I mean, I get it though, you don’t look capable of doing it yourself."

You listen with bated breath, the cool touch of the earth grounding you while Chan's watchful eyes mirror your own tenacity.

With calculated steps, Oliver descends from the platform, each movement purposeful and deliberate. A glint of steel catches the dim light as he approaches Jisung. As the blade he wields grazes Jisung's cheek, a thin rivulet of blood appears, tracing a crimson path down his face. Oliver steps back, grinning while Felix looms ominously behind Jisung.

In a mocking tone, Oliver scoffs, "Miss Edith couldn't care less about the likes of you."

Despite the threat at his neck, Jisung remains steadfast, his gaze averted from Felix's predatory presence. "You're a bad liar," he counters, a beacon of defiance in the face of imminent danger.

Oliver's smirk fades into a scowl. "I'll have your best friend drain you dry until you're nothing but a lifeless husk."

Jisung's laughter rings out, carrying a hint of madness. “Yeah, but then you’ll have a mighty angry vampire that can conjure on your hands, and how will you handle that? Oh fuck, you can’t--”

“You’ll just piss off your Mistress, and I get the feeling that’s a habit of yours—what was your name again?” The demon's rage is evident, his fists clenched at his sides as he discards the knife, the sound of its impact echoing through the chamber as it hits the ground. His bluff has been called; a demon under another's command lacks the authority to make unilateral decisions, especially ones as significant as ending the lives of captives. Captives that they’ve taken the time to carefully ward against.

For reasons unknown, they need him alive, at least for the time being.

"You'll regret this," Oliver seethes, his departure swift as he hurries to investigate the delay in the other demon's return, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the chamber. Hyunjin stands frozen, his gaze vacant, like a puppet abandoned by its puppeteer. Felix, unmoving, maintains his vice-like hold around Jisung, his thoughts seemingly distant despite his physical grasp.

With resolve sparking in your weary eyes, you snatch up the knife, ready to act.

"Little witch, hurry," Jisung urges, his voice barely above a whisper, directing your attention to the talismans hanging from the ceiling. "Cut them down—they're sapping our power." You swiftly ascend the stone platforms, a strength from an unknown place guiding your every move as you slice through the ropes with the knife. With each talisman that falls, dissipating into wisps of blue smoke, a surge of hope fills the air. Chan, his wolf form a blur, disappears into the darkness, tracking the demons' elusive trail. Your focus wavers momentarily, but Jisung's urgent plea snaps you back to the task at hand.

"No time, keep going!" he insists, spurring you onward. With steady hands, you continue your circuit around the room, severing the final ropes. Jisung, eyes closed in concentration, channels his purifying energy, causing Felix to recoil and collapse, overcome by the searing sensation of his blood boiling under his skin. As Jisung kneels beside the fallen vampire, a grimly determined spirit, unflinching and serious, settles over him.

Frustration tinges his voice as he assesses the situation. “Fuck, they’re in deep.”

You wave your hand in front of Hyunjin’s face but he doesn’t even blink. “What can we do?”

"Nothing, yet. We've gotta kill that bastard first." Jisung replies, scanning the room for any signs of their next move. Striding over to the mummified corpse, he delivers a swift kick to the wooden coffin, and you wince, splintering it open. With practiced efficiency, he breaks off a jagged piece of wood, handing it to you before keeping one for himself.

“But if we have to protect ourselves,” He gestures to the two vampires, “This is the only chance we’ve got.”

You gaze at the stake in your hand, horror coursing through you at the thought of wielding it against those who have become your kin, your protectors.

"Listen," Jisung's voice breaks through your turmoil, his tone resolute as he senses your hesitation. “If their souls get away from us again, I can’t help to get ‘em back. Death is a mercy, but it’s our last resort.”

You agree, though as you look at your friends, lost and locked inside of themselves, you wonder if you’ll follow through with such a promise if the moment were to ever present itself. Retreating toward the coffin, your gaze fixates on the flower delicately held within its grasp. Without much thought, or perhaps with thought you aren't conscious of, you extend your hand, fingers brushing against the petals, taking it into your grasp. Half-expecting the tomb to quake and crumble around you, like a scene ripped from the pages of a thrilling adventure, you're startled when the chamber remains still.

"In my dream they wanted to stop us from getting this, I don't know why," you assert, locking eyes with Jisung, an unquenchable fire burning bright within you as you secure the flower in your pocket. "The odds are now in our favor."

You dart down the corridor, Jisung hot on your heels, fueled by your sudden fearlessness. As the cavern splits into two diverging paths, you and Jisung find yourselves back to back, each scanning for a sign of which route to take.

Jisung's senses, honed by experience, detect a pulsating energy emanating from the right tunnel. He purposefully directs you away from it, "Go Left!" he calls out to you, his voice echoing down the corridor like a solemn decree. Without a moment's hesitation, you veer down the opposite path, placing your trust in his keen intuition as he forges ahead toward the heart of the mysterious power. In the glow of his flickering flames, Jisung continues on, his back pressed against the unyielding stone walls, each step plunging him deeper, and he can feel himself descending, guided by the flames in his palm, taxing his magick as a necessary means of sight... You creep, as light as you can on your feet down the hall, and though you don’t sense much, you feel like you’re moving towards something, someone important. A thought crosses you, and you recognize the feeling from before, when you could sense Chan's presence. You're just not sure how the honing mechanism works in your body. You come to a stop, straining your ears in the silence to hear anything. How could a place so evil be so silent? Maybe that was a part of its sinister nature, you’re in a constant state of paranoia, questioning everything you encounter.

That’s when you hear it. A cacophony reaches your ears—a wet, slurping noise interspersed with sharp cracks and snaps. Despite the unease creeping over you, you find yourself moving forward anyway, your feet carrying you around the corner even as your instincts scream at you to flee.

As you round the bend, the sounds abruptly cease, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. With shaky hands, you summon a burst of flame, its flickering light casting shadows across the room. You shield your eyes from the sudden brightness, snapping your fingers again to maintain control over the fire with an extended palm, its glow offering a glimpse of the scene before you.

With a sigh of relief, you realize it is Chan, still in his wolf form, perched atop the body beneath him, methodically tearing away its limbs. Despite the gruesome scene before you, you don't recoil in horror. Instead, a strange understanding dawns upon you—a glimpse into Chan's cryptic intentions. He's systematically dismembering the body. Catapulted into action, you scour the area until your eyes land on a discarded plank embedded with rusted nails. You don't carry natural nightvision like he does. With a snap of your fingers, flames dance along its surface, casting a flickering glow that barely illuminates the chamber. You hope, to be able to talk about how much you've improved with Jisung once you're all out of this mess. To thank him for everything's he's done for you to get this far with your conjure. Armed with a knife of strangely high quality, the one Oliver had dropped earlier, you set to work, slicing through the demon's flesh with surprising ease. It’s as if its appendages were made of gelatinous cartilage rather than solid muscle.

With a final, resolute stroke, you lock gazes with Chan, something primitive passing between you two. Taking a deep breath, you shift your focus to the grisly sight before you: the half-mauled neck upon which Chan still labors. You issue a directive, "The leg," you command, indicating the limb lying closest to you. You direct Chan to the leg on your side, trading places to continue the task. You hack away at the remaining flesh of the neck until the head is brutally separated from its body. As the final blow lands, the detached leg collapses to the ground with a sickening thud as the wolf by your side finishes alongside you.

Chan nudges your wrist, smearing your hoodie sleeve with the dark ichor of the fallen demon. Bewildered, you meet his gaze. "What's wrong?"

The massive black wolf pads over to the plank, its end nears the final embers of its burn. With a sagacious air, he settles down, resting his head upon his paws. You nod in silent comprehension, scrambling to your feet and surveying the room for flammable materials. Hastily, you gather anything combustible, stacking them in the center of the chamber—a rickety wooden stool, dusty tomes whose contents held no value, and any other debris within reach.

Chan prowls around the scattered body parts, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest, and you begin to deduce the demon isn’t gone yet. "Let's go," you command, stepping backward as Chan joins you at the entrance. With a steady focus, you close your eyes, channeling the power within you. In an explosion of heat and light, flames engulf the chamber, forming a barrier that forces you to retreat, the intensity making you stumble and fall to the ground. Though the flames lick at your skin, they do not scorch, leaving you breathless as you gaze at your hands. How did you just do that?! A sharp itch on your forearm draws your attention, prompting you to hastily roll up your sleeve. To your astonishment, you find a series of canine tooth marks left by Chan's earlier bite, unhealed, the crescent pattern etched into your flesh. Frustration bubbles within you as you scratch at the irritated skin, rising to your feet just as the flames begin to dwindle.

"Fuck, Chan, what is this?" you demand, only to find Jisung's figure illuminated by the dying embers, his eyes glinting an unnatural complete black in the dim light. He grins wickedly as he snatches your wrist tightly, looking down at the bite. “I don’t know, looks pretty bad though.” Before you can react, he painfully twists your wrist, and darkness consumes you, consciousness slipping away as you collapse into oblivion.

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