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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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jinxhallows · 8 months

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 .

━━━━━━━━

☾ -- ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs

━━━━━━━━

☾ -- ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ? ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ

━━━━━━━━

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ | ᴡᴄ: 𝟽.𝟶ᴋ

━━━━━━━━

"This is my sister."

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of revelation and disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Chan is the first to react. He shoots up from his seat, his eyes darting between Lyra and you, disbelief etched across his features. He begins to pace around Lyra, as if inspecting her for any signs of deception.

Hyunjin, never one to waste time, swiftly moves to restrain her. His fingers curl around her throat, and panic wells up within you. Instinctively, you rush to her defense, your heart pounding in your chest, but then, something in Hyunjin's gaze stops you. He holds out his other arm behind him, a silent plea in his eyes, asking you for permission to continue, to trust him.

In that charged moment, you realize that Hyunjin, despite his cold exterior, is not driven by blind impulse. He is asking for your trust, your faith in his judgment. The room seems to freeze around us as emotions swirl in the air like a turbulent storm.

—

“You’re soaked.” You chuckle, “What did you guys do?”

“I can’t tell you that, it’s a secret, like between siblings.” Hyunjin chuckles, amused by your curiosity. “Do you have any siblings, pretty witch?”

“I did…but we were separated when my parents were killed.”

–

You take a hesitant step back, your nervousness evident in the gulp that you can't suppress. Felix approaches Lyra from the other side, his brow furrowing with a mix of confusion and wonder. He tilts his head as if studying her as if she were an alien, a species he had never observed this closely before.

"How do we know this isn't a trick? A demon could pull something like this off," Jisung finally voices his doubts. While the brothers react more on instinct, their inner circle threatened by this unexpected reunion, he chooses to articulate his concerns. After all, these people were your siblings in all but blood, and this stranger's sudden appearance raised questions of authenticity.

"This is definitely a wolf, that much I'm sure of," Hyunjin's lips twitch, his fangs momentarily exposed.

"Of course, I'm a wolf, you dead piece of shit," Lyra retorts, her voice strangled as Hyunjin's grip tightens. Yet, Felix's hand gently rests on his forearm, urging him to soften it a little. Hyunjin complies, his shoulders relaxing, but he maintains his guard.

“Your parents were killed by hybrids, out in the woods by Lake Carter, yeah?” Felix's tone remains serious.

Lyra blinks a few times, struggling to find her voice. Instead, she offers a slow nod, her chest heaving with increased effort. Felix steps back, shaking his head as he studies her from head to toe.

"The rogues that broke off from the Equinox clan to become hybrids and feed on vampires," Felix's mind races as realization dawns on him. "You were bitten that night..."

"Wh-what?" You stammer, "Nana said you were at your friend's house that night!"

"I was," Lyra admits, her voice soft and trembling. "Raina, she lived across the lake from the vacation house. They thought it would be easier than leaving all three of us with Nana."

Chan walks up to stand alongside Hyunjin, gently nudging his younger brother while nodding toward their captive wolf. Hyunjin reluctantly releases her, allowing her feet to fully touch the ground. She rubs her neck, taking in a deep breath, and then turns her gaze toward Chan, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, and you.

"I don't understand..." You speak up.

"Raina and I liked to have adventures. We were young, naive, stupid," Lyra begins, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "Nana told us about what was out there, but we lived in the city. We barely saw any of that. We were curious, I guess, and went out looking for adventure..."

"And you found it, in the form of being bitten by a rogue wolf under a full moon. So why come back to stay with the clan?"

“Cause I brought her in.” Leo's voice reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. He stands at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and his expression stern. "Whether she liked it or not, she was a wolf, and a part of our clan. She would've died out there, alone, if the pack hadn't found her. Now, come on, Lyra, we've got to prepare dinner." He gestures for her to follow him, and he hobbles up the stairs. She ducks her head and follows closely behind, and the hatch slowly closes, enveloping them in dimly lit darkness once more in the windowless basement.

"Felix, you just weren't going to tell me, tell any of us, that the Equinox clan are the ones that fucking killed Mariela and physically traumatized you?!" Your voice quivers with a torrent of emotions as you take a few steps toward the white-haired vampire. He watches you, his expression stoic, blank, and unmoved. It's unsettling when Felix is like this; it makes you feel like you're on the outside. He's carefully considering what to say, what he can say.

"You told Mother, you told us that you didn't know the name of the clan, that they kidnapped you, brother," Chan reminds Felix. He, too, begins to question the details of the story he was told so long ago. He vividly remembers risking his own life to let out their cattle, being the one to stand up for his brother who held this secret for centuries.

Every family has its secrets, but why lie about something like this?

"Because had I told our mother and father, they would've died chasing down the vengeance I wanted for myself," Felix finally snaps. His voice quivers, and he's literally shaking. "I waited years and years, I killed every Equinox rogue I found until I found them, that night..." His voice trembles on the fringes of insanity as he explains, "And I listened to them choke while I chewed on their windpipes, and to this day, I will never taste a revenge so sweet."

The room falls silent. Felix, realizing he's on the precipice of emotions he'd rather not face, turns away from everyone. He walks over to his sleeping bag, wordlessly picks up his book, and begins reading it again as a form of distraction. Nobody sensitive to the approaching Dawn could leave the basement; right now, the sun was either up or close to it.

"Okay, so now I can't sleep," Jisung says, sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag.

"Take off your necklace; you'll be out in no time," Hyunjin comments, slinking into his sleeping bag and lying on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows as he speaks.

"Not true. When I take it off, I actually get less sleep. It's like an ancestral chatroom in here every time I close my eyes without the thing."

Hyunjin squints in confusion. "A what room?"

Jisung delves into an elaborate metaphorical explanation, leaving you deep in thought. Chan notices your distant expression and pulls you aside, his features etched with concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

You let out a sigh, finally releasing the tension that had been building within you. "Yeah, I just... I'm in shock, you know? I hoped my siblings were out there, but now... I just have so many questions, and not nearly enough time to ask them."

"This is a really big deal, and if you need us to stay another day, little witch, we can make that happen."

You look down, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing your arm as you consider the idea of delaying the journey. "I don't know what I want."

Chan empathizes with you, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone. "Don't you think she should know she's going to be an aunt?" He offers you a small smile, and it prompts a bittersweet chuckle from you. A couple of tears escape your eyes, which you quickly try to wipe away. "Aww, my little witch, and my even littler witch," he coos with a hint of sadness, pulling you into a tight hug. When he releases you, he gazes into your eyes, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders. "Go on, I'll be here when you get back. I won't even go into my death, I promise."

His gentle encouragement is enough to persuade you to ascend the stairs. You carefully open the hatch just enough to slip out and then close it tightly to keep the others below in darkness. Chan remains at the stairs, looking up at the sealed door, pondering how drastically life keeps taking sharp, unexpected turns. He always knew to expect the unexpected, but at this rate, he's left wondering who's going to show up next? What's going to happen next?

"Do you believe that story?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through Chan's thoughts. The eldest sibling descends the stairs and goes over to his own sleeping bag, sitting atop it, lost in thought. He glances at Felix, who has already succumbed to his daytime death, his body stiff and cold within his sleeping bag.

"I'm really not sure, Hyunjin," Chan admits. "I know just about as much as the little witch, apparently."

"Who knew Felix had that much anger in that little body?" Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his hair out of his face as he adjusts himself to lie on his back, hands crossed over his chest as he stares at the ceiling.

"Yeah, who knew..." Chan murmurs, tracing invisible patterns in the dirt floor pensively.

━━━━━━━━

You stand in the center of the room, feeling oddly out of place as the pack congregates in hushed conversations. When you emerged from the basement, a few of them left, their curiosity or distrust leading them elsewhere. Among the wolves present, Lyra, Leo, and two others remain. Lyra's gaze falls upon you, a mixture of concern and hesitation shimmering in her eyes. She doesn't know what to expect from you; you share blood, but you're practically strangers now. Would you side with the fiery red-haired vampire and his suspicions? There are others in the room, too, and their identities and your purpose in traveling to Abysmora are shrouded in mystery.

"Y/N, what have you gotten yourself into?" Lyra voices her thoughts aloud, partially by accident, as you approach her. Leo regards you suspiciously but remains silent, sitting across the table from Lyra, granting you privacy for the impending interaction. Her voice quivers with emotion as she rises to embrace you once more. You laugh, tears of happiness now streaming down your face as you hug her tightly. Leo quietly excuses himself, leading the other two wolves outside, leaving you two alone.

"Hold on..." Lyra takes a step back, her hands gently cupping the firm roundness of your tummy through your tight embrace. Her eyes reflect those of your mother, and you wonder if others can see the same resemblance in your eyes. "Are you pregnant?"

You cast your gaze downward at your belly, still coming to terms with the surprise yourself. You cradle your hands around your rounded bump. "I guess I am," you admit, your nerves palpable.

"You guess?" Lyra's voice carries a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I knew I smelled something, but I couldn't place it. It didn't make sense."

You pull a face. "You can smell it? Like, my body?"

Lyra laughs softly, her eyes dancing with newfound knowledge. "Your scent changes when you're pregnant, subtle shifts in your pheromones. I can smell things like that now," she says, tapping her nose with confidence. You both share a lighthearted giggle as she reaches across the table, enveloping your hands in hers. "There's so much I want to say, I just don't know where to start," Lyra admits, her gaze sweeping around the room as if seeking guidance. Finally, she looks up at you and asks, "Why are you going to Abysmora?"

With a deep breath, you begin to recount your journey, revealing the complex web of events that led you to this moment. Lyra listens with unwavering attention, her eyes widening with each revelation.

"So, we have one more stop before we get to Abysmora," you conclude. "Santiago told us the pack would lead us across the territory to the next drop-off point. I just never expected it to be you."

Lyra exhales deeply, a whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.

"I don't know about the others, but that redhead... I don't like him."

You chuckle, sinking back into your chair as you feel the tension dissipating. "I didn't like Hyunjin at first either. But can you blame him? He was in purgatory for almost a thousand years. When you win his trust, he's loyal, and actually really funny sometimes, too."

"I smelled another wolf, but there was so much vampire funk I could barely make it out. So he's the one that's the father, huh? The wolf vampire one?" Lyra's still in the process of piecing things together, her mind tracing back to the basement.

"Yes, his name is Chris, but some of us call him Chan. That's his Korean name," you respond, leaning forward and lowering your voice. "And he can hear very, very well, and he's still awake downstairs."

Lyra matches your hushed tone, leaning in closer. "If you're having his child, that makes me the aunt, and we're family now, so I don't give a damn what he hears." She nods with an exaggerated smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. You playfully swat at her, her sharp tongue and attitude mirroring your own.

She deftly dodges your playful assault with a hearty laugh. "My goodness, Y/N, the life you've been living! It's something right out of a storybook..." Her voice trails off as she recalls the earlier encounter. "The white-haired vampire, what's his name again?"

"Felix."

"Yeah, him." You sense Lyra's mood shifting toward concern. "How did he know about...you know..." She can't bring herself to utter the words aloud.

You realize you've given her the general outline of what's transpired, but the gritty details and conversations have yet to be revealed. Some of them, you've decided, you'll intentionally keep to yourself.

After all, every family has its secrets.

"A long time ago, Felix was just a regular human witch," you begin, "and when he was younger, he fell in love with the daughter of some cult leader, a faction of your clan that broke off to become hybrids. I don't know the politics of it. They wanted to arrange a union, forced their mark on him, he escaped, and they murdered the daughter as a sacrifice to appease their twisted fucking god."

Lyra's eyes widen in horror. "Oh my goodness, they killed their own daughter?"

"You're part of this clan, and you didn't know?"

"I mean, I knew about the massacre of the Equinox by the hybrids, but I didn't know... What does that have to do with our parents?"

"Felix never got over it. He hunted them down and found them at Lake Carter, after they'd murdered a couple in a cabin, our parents. He killed them, and pretty fucking viciously, but it was too late."

Lyra can hardly believe what you're revealing. She's transported back to that dreadful night, when she and Raina were wandering through the woods with their flashlights, the screams of their parents and the haunting howls breaking the silence of the night. She remembers running as fast as her legs could carry her, the terror gnawing at her heels, as if something was nipping at the straps of her backpack.

Her heart races, and she rises to her feet, clutching her chest with her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"I just...I need a moment. Information overload, you know?" She chuckles nervously, backing away and holding her head, as if experiencing sudden pain. Lyra turns away and hurries into a nearby room, closing the door behind her, which you hear lock shortly thereafter. The sound of running water from the sink reaches your ears as you cautiously approach the door, slowly.

Did you mess it all up? You had to tell her the truth, she deserved to know, didn’t she?

You tap your knuckles gently against the door.

"Yeah?" Lyra answers, her voice muffled as if her nose is stuffed, and the sound of running water comes to a halt.

You lean your temple against the wooden door, your knuckles resting against the wood. "I'm gonna get some rest. Pregnancy, it…takes a lot out of me," you say, your gaze drifting down to your growing belly. You twist your foot back and forth, a nervous habit, as you wait for her reply.

You straighten up as you hear the lock unlatch, and the door opens. Lyra's eyes are reddened, and the tip of her caramel brown nose appears irritated. She sniffs, stepping forward to envelop you in another embrace.

"I love you so much. I'm so glad we found each other again. I'm sorry; this is just a lot. Can we talk more tonight, after we both get some rest?" She steps back and looks into your eyes, her hands on your shoulders. You can feel your own emotions welling up again as you nod, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

After exchanging goodnight wishes, you return downstairs to the basement. Sure enough, everybody lies still, but Chan is sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag, reading the cursebook that Felix had been so invested in. A source of immediate comfort, you scurry over to him, picking up the pace to cross the distance a little faster. You sit down and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his shoulder as you hug him tightly.

He chuckles and closes the book, setting it down before wrapping his arms around you in return, holding you close, his head resting atop yours. "Well then, you seem chipper, how did it go?"

You sit up and look at him, “I think it went really well, but it was a lot for her, I could tell she had a ton of questions, but for some reason when we got to talking about our parents and Felix she got really worked up and left for the bathroom.”

“Hm,” Chan muses, “Did she know they were killed?”

You hesitate, “I don’t see how she couldn’t, she was there, in the woods, that’s how she got turned.”

“Maybe it makes her anxious? That’s pretty traumatic, and then finding out you’ve just met the guy responsible for killing the murderers? And he’s a vampire…travelling with your sister, that you haven’t seen in over a decade…” He motions that he could continue on and on, “D’you know what I mean? If I were a mortal, I’d be wrecked by that for a little while too.”

The corner of your mouth pulls your lips into a tight line, “But she’s a wolf?”

“And yet wolves are still mortals,” Chan says with a sad expression, “They grow old, and they die.”

You readjust yourself to sit shoulder to shoulder beside him as you watch Felix’s slumbering figure. “Can I ask you something absolutely fucking ridiculous?”

He laughs, “And how do I answer you when you ask me that?”

“Oh right,”

“Always.” You two say simultaneously, sharing quiet laughter like close friends before the silence prompts you to actually ask your question.

“At the vampire den…why did you pick Felix instead of Hyunjin?”

Chan is quiet. You two hadn’t had a chance to talk about it since it happened, and with everything else going on, it just didn’t feel right to bring it up before.

“Well,” Chan starts, “For starters, I trust Felix to not murder you, or at least give me a little warning if he’s about to fall off the deep end.”

You nod in understanding, following along.

“Also, I know you two have become very close friends, you trust him too, I mean, would you have chosen Hyunjin instead?” He’s also watching his brother’s lifeless body across the room from where you two were.

“Absolutely not.” You say, which causes him to laugh.

“Right, that’s the logic I went with.”

There’s a bit of a pause between you both before he speaks up. “Why do you ask?”

You watch your words carefully; the last thing you want to do is trigger your hybrid into believing he’s some unnatural monster.

“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t weird for you.” You say.

“Nope, was it weird for you?”

“No,” you laugh, “And that’s what’s weird because by the laws of humans, it should be weird.”

“By the laws of humans, you shouldn’t have come back from the dead,” he looks at you, a twinkle in his eyes, “My, isn’t it beautiful how we don’t have to go by them anymore?” He pinches halfway down one of your springy, black curls and pulls it up gently, letting it go and watching it bounce back into its natural coil. His eyes fall onto yours.

“Felix and I spoke afterward, don’t worry. He doesn’t think it was weird either.”

You know you won’t be involved anymore, but you still want to ask, you’re curious, and a little jealous, so you squeak, “How often do you guys like…go into those kinds of places?”

Chan can tell where you’re headed, “Well, my brothers and I don’t really indulge in those vampire dens anymore. Talking about hundreds, and I mean hundreds of years back, back when Hyunjin was around, we did it often. We were so driven by bloodlust, it was natural to just pass feeders back and forth, some of them barely hanging on to life.” He explains, “The more we mixed with humans, the less we gave in to those primal urges, until we learned to ignore them altogether.”

“But those urges are primal, right? They gotta be still lurking somewhere.”

Chan takes a moment to ponder, then shakes his head, “The need to feed communally doesn't really appeal to me these days. I don’t just ignore it; I flat out despise it. After I came back around that night, all I could think about was that pile of bodies Hyunjin had accumulated in such a short time.”

“Yeah, he’s a real... unique character,” you say, your gaze drifting over to the other lifeless body in a sleeping bag a few feet away from Felix’s. “But he’s trying, I can tell.”

“Yeah? You think so?” Chan says, impressed.

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“I can see it, I just don’t think he does. Hyunjin doesn’t give himself enough credit for the hard work, even before purgatory. Now, he’s had to dive deep into his darker side just to survive in purgatory; he's convinced that's all he is.” Chan says, “I'm genuinely worried about him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno,” Chan says, narrowing his eyes, “I just have this feeling he'd sacrifice himself, just to end it all, but only if it meant the rest of us were safe.” He continues, “But Hyunjin doesn’t want you to know that, so the only way to catch him is to act like you don’t give a damn about what he’s up to. The moment he senses you’re watching him, bam,” Chan snaps his fingers, “He’ll flip the switch.”

“Won’t he hear you?”

Chan glances at you, a slight dimple forming on his cheek as his lips curl into a half-grin. “It's easy to forget you’re new to this,” he says, your innocence warming him in a way he’s not used to, deep in his gut. Chan feels an undeniable closeness to you right now. “They’re completely out of it right now. When they wake up, I’ll feel it—hard to explain, sort of like that feeling when you know you're not alone in a room? You sense another presence?”

“Yeah, I've felt that, even without conjure.”

“It’s kinda like that, but I don’t have to be in the same room to feel it,” Chan claps his hands together, and Jisung grumbles in his sleep, readjusting himself and turning over, pulling his sleeping bag further over his head. You stifle your giggle by clasping your hands over your mouth, and Chan joins you in a quiet chuckle, his hand covering his mouth too. He lowers his voice to a near whisper, “They can’t hear or feel anything right now. But their supernatural senses are razor-sharp, and they can spring to action in an instant if they sense danger. It’s a truly fascinating phenomenon.”

“And you? Are you the same? You always wake up when I’m having nightmares.”

“That’s because you’ve had so much of my blood, and I’ve had so much of yours, that I’m attuned to your body. I can feel when you feel fear, anger, or sadness. I’d say the more subtle emotions are harder to pinpoint, but my wolf goes dormant when I’m in my death.”

“Dormant? How?”

“My body relies on my vampire senses when I’m in my death. Even better, I can’t be sniffed out, making it harder to track me down.”

You yawn, and Chan shifts over, unzipping your sleeping bag that lies next to his. “Someone’s getting a bit sleepy,” he teases.

You groan, “I don’t wanna go to sleep, this is the first time in forever that we’ve been able to just enjoy each other.”

Chan laughs at your stubbornness.

I don’t want this night to end either, little witch.

He taps the sleeping bag, encouraging you to lie down. “I’ll even stay up and sing to you until you fall asleep. How’s that sound, baby girl?”

You turn to mush at the nickname and promptly settle into your sleeping bag, snuggling up and resting your head on your hybrid’s lap. He reclines on his arm, his other fingers gently stretching and releasing each curl of your hair, totally absorbed in the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat and the baby's in tandem.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a quizzical expression. “You said you’d sing to me.”

Chan laughs, “My apologies! I got a little… sidetracked,” he grins, “Any song requests?”

“My Nana used to sing me to sleep every night. She would sing ‘Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire’.”

He chuckles at the uniqueness of your request. “But it's October?”

“She sang it no matter the time of year,” you shrug, nestling even more snugly into his lap, “I don't know, something about it always made me feel safe.”

Chan massages your thick curls with the pads of his fingers, and you feel like a content lap puppy. The sensation is utterly calming.

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire it is, then.”

━━━━━━━━

Felix regains consciousness first, as was often the case. The world and his place in it gradually return to him, and he slowly sits up, his senses reacquainting themselves with his surroundings—the scents in the air, the presence of people nearby. He spots the open hatch and, while he doesn't hear voices, the crackling of the fireplace upstairs reaches his ears. Quietly, he peels the sleeping bag off his lower half and vamp-speeds to the top of the stairs, cautiously poking his head up and around to survey the area before emerging fully.

The Equinox clan markings on the walls surround him, telling stories he couldn't decipher but carrying imagery that reverberates like a haunting echo from the past. He slips into the bathroom to freshen up for the evening, and his thoughts drift to his youth with Mariela.

Oh, to be that young and carefree again. The innocence of love experienced for the first time. Young love, untouched by the complexities of adulthood that rewires the mind. Devoid of the enigma that comes with living through centuries. To be able to run through fields of tall, wild grass in the sweltering summer heat, with the sun blazing in the sky above, each speckle on his face another memory of happier times basking in the sun.

Felix can appreciate that; the knowledge that his cherished summer moments will be etched onto his body for eternity.

He exits the bathroom, only to bump into Lyra, who seems to be heading in without checking if it's occupied. They stand face to face, speechless.

“You're Felix,” Lyra says, catching the silver-haired vampire off guard.

He doesn't show it.

“I am,” he replies, his voice resonating with profound depth.

“Thank you,” Lyra blurts out impulsively. She can barely hold eye contact with him. The way he regards her as if she's a peculiar rarity, with his head slightly tilted and his eyes scrutinizing her features. “For—you know—”

“Killing the murderers of your parents?” Felix vocalizes. He senses her discomfort at the mention of it. He doesn't want to upset her, but at the same time, he can't help but wonder if she might have been sent here, planted by Edith or one of her devout followers. It's too uncanny a coincidence for the little witch's sister to suddenly appear on their path to Abysmora, especially after the attempt on their lives at Lysandra's safehouse. “I didn't do it for you,” he admits, “But you're welcome.”

“Then why did you do it?”

The question halts Felix's departure. Lyra's expression is one of determination. Despite the underlying fear he still senses in her and the rapid rise of her pulse the longer he looks at her, she has a fire reminiscent of you, yet somehow distinct. Your fire is explosive and consuming, while hers feels like a slow burn, one that traps you when you least expect it, thinking it's safe to let your guard down.

“That's not really your concern,” Felix responds.

“I heard you were a witch,” Lyra tries once more to draw him into sharing more information, seeking closure for a chapter of her life that has always eluded her. “What changed?”

Felix shoots her a sidelong glance, now genuinely irritated. “You were once a witch, weren't you? Vampires can't perform conjure.”

“I'm still a witch, excuse you.”

Now she has his undivided attention. Felix tilts his head, perplexed. “That's impossible.”

“Says who?”

“Says the laws of bloody supernatural nature. Witch blood is nullified, except in specific cases like demons.” He explains, reciting from years of meticulous research.

“You're not only wrong, you're passionately wrong,” Lyra chuckles. “Where there's a will, there's a way.”

“Stop talking in circles, will you?” Felix says, briefly breaking his stoicism. He regains his composure swiftly. “How are you able to conjure as a wolf?”

“Any creature born to a witch parent has magic, but depending on your lineage, you might need to awaken it,” Lyra explains. “And it's not a matter of splashing cold water on your face; you have to sacrifice yourself and spend four seasons buried underground.”

Felix shakes his head. “I don't understand, sacrifice myself?”

“I just had to slit my throat, but you... you'll have to stab yourself through the heart with a wooden stake. You vampires are tougher to put an end to than we are, unfortunately.”

“You're mad, you're telling me to commit suicide. No vampire has been staked and lived to talk about it. Besides, just because it worked for you doesn't mean it'll work for me.” The idea sounds absurd, but Felix is definitely going to thoroughly investigate it.

Damn it, I don't have anything out here except that cursebook.

For now, he's stuck relying on Lyra's information. It's the first time he's heard of such a thing, and he doesn't need to attempt it to learn more.

“It worked for someone I knew a long time ago, a hybrid. He had to rip out his own heart from his chest. He was dead; I put him in the ground myself and covered his body. The next autumn, he came back, his clothes chewed through by insects. I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.”

Lyra has just become significantly more intriguing, and capturing Felix's attention can be a perilous gift. On one hand, you're on the receiving end of his unwavering focus, but on the other, you also become the object of his obsession when he veers into the realm of neuroticism.

“A hybrid?”

“Vampire and wolf. His father was a witch; the blood was in his veins—he just hadn't awakened it yet.”

Felix looks down, contemplating whether or not to allow the conversation to continue. Finally, he looks back up at Lyra, his eyes fixating on her neck. Something dawns on him. He can hear the blood, but it's not overpowering his thoughts. He's been standing here for a while now, and that insistent craving to devour... it's something he keeps restrained, but it's not even there. His thoughts are his own, clear and calculated, not the result of a blood demon whispering in his ear, coaxing him to kill.

It's almost... peaceful.

The thought of drinking her blood is actually somewhat repulsive, to be frank. He has tasted wolf blood when tearing through their bodies to murder them, and it was always bitter and pungent, like licking the floor of a barn. However, blood from a living mortal is blood from a living mortal, and in a pinch, it can suffice.

“Hey, bloodsucker,” Lyra snaps, “Eyes are up here, got it? You won't be taking any bites out of me.”

Felix's upper lip twitches. “I don't really want to,” he says slowly.

“Good. That makes two of us.”

━━━━━━━━

“So, how does it feel to be reunited with your sister, pretty witch?” Hyunjin inquires, shifting his weight from foot to foot and flicking his cigarette. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his hoodie is zipped up, the hood concealing his head. Two tufts of red hair at his bangs graze over his eyebrows.

His hair is getting longer.

And still, unrelentingly, the brightest of reds.

The others are in the process of packing everything, with Chan supervising, unloading some items to be left behind as their journey nears its culmination. They will need to rely more on their physical strength than on fully loaded backpacks. Chan follows Jisung outside onto the porch, and they both start sorting through the backpacks on the ground.

You and Hyunjin stand by where the trees demarcate the edge of the forest, their leaves barely brushing against the moonlight.

“It feels really good, but also really strange. What happens from here? I’m not making this trip just to see her again; we almost died—like—a few times.”

“If the pack's been up here as long as they say, she knows her way around.”

“So, what? She risks her life every time we have an annual visit?”

“You do that sometimes,” Hyunjin acknowledges with a nod as he takes another hit, “with family, especially in our world.”

Chan's earlier concerns echo in your mind as Hyunjin mentions self-sacrifice.

You watch him as he takes a drag, tilting his pouty lips skyward to blow the smoke away from you. The slice of moonlight through the trees accentuates the sharpness of his jawline.

“Hyunjin, you don't really think we're gonna die, right?” You can feel the idiocy of the question as soon as it escapes your lips. Nonetheless, he ponders it, deeming it valid and contemplating the possible challenges you all might encounter. Hyunjin has battled demons ranging from the size of kittens, swarming him and tearing his flesh with their razor-sharp teeth, to giants that dwarf him, slamming him against walls with a single sweep of their enormous arms. He glances over at Chan and Jisung; his older brother is talking while Jisung listens intently, a look of concentration on his face as he nods and occasionally adds his thoughts.

Hyunjin taps the cigarette, and ashes sprinkle onto the dirt below. “This is my last cigarette,” he declares, holding it between his fingers and studying it, the burning orange end nearing the filter at the opposite end. He drops it onto the ground below, extinguishing it.

“We probably won't die.”

And you believe him.

━━━━━━━━

Lyra steps outside, her packmates spilling out and gathering at the forest's edge, chattering like athletes preparing for a tournament. She notices Chan kneeling down, rummaging through a backpack, nodding in approval, and muttering to himself. Lyra takes a moment to study him, with his shaggy hair and all-black attire, the brim of his hat pulled low. He moves on to the next backpack, extracting a small wooden box of herbs.

"Hey," she says, stepping down off the porch to join him.

Chan places the box back into the backpack, stands up, and dusts off his hands. "Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself; this is all so unexpected," he says, extending a hand. "I'm—"

"Chris, yes. I've heard a little about you." Lyra shakes his hand before taking a deep breath, clasping her hands together. "So, you and my sister—"

"Me and your sister...?" Chan waits for her to continue, and when she doesn't, he chuckles, inviting her to follow suit. It's all a bit awkward, and she's relieved that he seems to realize it too.

"Congrats?" She offers, still unsure how it happened, considering he's technically...dead.

"Thanks, it's been a journey. Still figuring it out, but yeah... you ready to be an aunt?"

"I think so?" Lyra laughs. "Is she a wolf? Do you guys..."

"Not too sure of the species yet, but we know she's a witch, though."

Jisung catches the tail end of their conversation as he returns, stuffing a few more items into his backpack and removing others. He tightens the straps, ostentatiously tugging at the strings to avoid being caught eavesdropping. He still hasn't told you or Chan that the baby is a wolf-witch hybrid.

Maybe it's best they find out on their own, he thinks to himself.

"Uh oh, girl dad!" Lyra teases.

Chan raises his brows, his eyes widening as he sighs. "Yeah, I'm, ah, gonna have to let little witch take the reins, or I'm killing every boy that looks at her."

"Come on, you're really gonna go murdering some kids?"

"Ah, you know, I do have the most humanity left out of my brothers," Chan nods, looking up as he comes up with a different plan. "Her Uncle Hyunjin can take care of it."

Lyra feigns offense as she shoves him, and they both share a laugh. "Okay, but my dad was the same way, and he was a witch! He would do little things, like making spiders fall out of their mouths, knocking them off their bikes. Guys were terrified of me! They thought I was bad luck or something."

Chan has rarely heard you discuss your parents, but when they died, you mentioned how young you had been. Lyra was older than you by a few years, well into her teenage years when your parents were murdered.

"Ha, I like the way he thinks. More subtle," Chan says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders.

"Oh, hold on, let me—" Lyra steps behind him, fixing and tightening the straps. It gives her a moment to ponder another question. "You called her a little witch? Felix said that earlier when he referred to her. Is that, like, a thing?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess I sort of started that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a bashful smile. "I said it because I didn't know her name at the time..." Chan's mind starts to drift back to the first night he encountered you at the mausoleum.

"That's so sweet. You guys are like... a family," Lyra remarks. The more she converses with the brothers and hears the way they speak about you, the more she can see the depth of their affection for you, an unlikely bond formed among different beings.

"Not me, I'm more like a cat... I just come for the food and then I go back to my actual home," Jisung chimes in, finally joining the conversation with his usual humor. He places an enthusiastic hand around Chan's upper forearm.

"You ready?"

━━━━━━━━

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