Wooyoung never felt such pain searing up his leg like a branding iron. His leg pumped him further into the grassy plains, retreating from...from whatever separated him and Yunho. It was just as his father described, skin so porcelain and pale, fast, orange eyes and a blood thirsty grin. His eyes pricked with tears as the adrenaline smoothened into nothing but pain. His leg ached, seemingly fractured, but he needed to keep going. He ran in the direction of the van.
And if he needed to leave Yunho behind in the marsh of Africa, he would. As fucked up as it is, if he wasn’t near the van by the time he caught his breath, he’d be a dead man.
He doubled over into the van, breathing into the leather seat as safety relaxed his body. The first thing he grabbed was a stapler.
Yunho had the first aid kit, everything to stop a wound from bleeding out.
Wooyoung bit into his sweaty shirt, pressing the stapler into the long cut in his thigh, closing the wound with coagulated blood dripping onto the cool floor of the van. He grabbed an extra shirt from his bag and wrapped it over the newly closed wound. He finally breathes, resting his head back against the van and letting out a pained gasp. His shirt balls into his mouth again, grasping what he knows is duct tape and tensing his muscles .
Each wrap is tight and uncomfortable, bringing a ragged scream from his throat until he covered the cloth and his bloody wound completely.
“Fuck!” He hears Yunho tumble into the front seat of the van.” Your dad was right. There’s...that shit is fucking crazy....Oh god.” He looks back at Wooyoung’s leg.
“Drive. I’m fine.” Wooyoung grunted, pulling some more duct tape between his teeth to break it off. There was still blood seeping further up. He needs to cut more and wrap his wounds.
“Woo.” Yunho tries.
“Fucking drive!” He demands.
He clambers up to the front to throw the keys between his fingers until he finds the one. He starts the van when he finds it and slams his foot on the gas, steering them through the savanna and back in the trail they came in.
“Did that thing kill your dad?”
“No. No, no I was there when he died.” Wooyoung’s explains.” It was stress and something with his heart. He was obsessed with whatever the fuck we just found.”
“He wasn’t crazy.” Yunho smiles.” Wow. He actually wasn’t crazy.”
“We aren’t crazy either.”
“He’s more sane than us. We actually went after that shit.” Yunho laughs wholeheartedly.”
The first plane back to New York wasn’t easy. Wooyoung was recommended a doctor, but he didn’t want to stay on the same continent as the beast that lurks in the marsh for another minute.
It was a tear filled flight, because they fucking survived.
It’s been three years.
Since Yunho abandoned the search, since Wooyoung gave up and kept the memory of his fathers work before hiding it below the basement. Yunho stoppped listening to Wooyoung. Stopped talking to him ever since their encounter with something that was written in his fathers work.
He didn’t want anything to do with it anymore.
Wooyoung spent all his savings on that trip to Africa. On guns and armory. Now he’s back with nothing but his job as an officer holding him down. His fathers work proven as nothing but an old perverted man obsessed with nothing.
Because he doesn’t remember the face he pointed the gun at.
“What’s going on tonight, Woo.” One of his best friends replacing Yunho, Jisoo. She liked him, he knew that.
“Same as every night. Dinner and then probably visit my mom. Make sure she’s doing ok.”
“You are such a nice man.” She leaned her head into her palms and sighed.” I wish to find a man who cares about his mom.”
“I’m sure one will drop to his knees for you. You’re a catch.” He offers an awkward smile, hers faltering. It brings an itch of guilt.
He’s not interested. He’s closeted for one, and she just isn’t his type. She likes showcasing something, proving to everyone she’s happy. She wants to take pictures of him while he’s eating and show off every date with a caption of how she wants to marry a man. If Wooyoung somehow got locked down, he wants a relationship where every second isn’t broadcasted to Instagram like it’s the weather channel.
Wooyoung finishes his report for the day and starts gathering his belongings.” I’ll see you later Jisoo, have a good weekend.” She stops talking, finally. She gives a pressed smile and repeats his words with a wave and a blush.
The drive home was the same as always. Long and unfulfilled. A day wasted away with nothing that the children scream about. No action crime stopping cops that do everything in their power to chase people down.
He doesn’t even chase anyone on foot, he’d rather run them over.
“I’m home.” He says to no one at all. He kicks off his shoes and leaves them by the front door while he turns on the lights for the foyer and the living room. Only this time, someone answers him back.
“Welcome home.” A voice calls. Orange eyes finding him from a corner in his home, a chair he sat in last night replaced with a figure too familiar and unknown.
It’s Jisoo at first. Her innocent face taken over by orange irises.
Her skin shifts and flips on a coin to a face porcelain and pale.
Wooyoung draws his gun.
“Simple weapons don’t harm me.”
He shoots anyway, but they only fall from him, crushed and hit the floor like pebbles.
“How did you get in here?”
“I can get in anywhere I’d like. I have a question for you as well.” The man towers over Wooyoung, lights flickering like some ghost was in their clutches. The doors locked and as he got closer, the air thickened with he smell of blood. “Tell me, are you Ilwoo’s son?” He asked, eyebrows pulling like the question may guarantee his death.
Wooyoung backs up from the creature, gun still hot in his hand , shaking as he tries to pull the trigger once more.He grabs the barrel and squeezes it shut before he can, stunning his brain all together.
” Stop it. Now answer me.” He frowns , lips pulled thin with the creeps shaking up Wooyoung’s back.
“I am.” Wooyoung’s back finally hits the wall. Impatience doesn’t change his features, but he’s less annoyed than when the gun was pointed at his face.
“Good. I am Seonghwa. Before your father died he was my lover until we went our separate ways.” A scowl replaces his collected face, almost annoyance. Like his mother told him he’d be a snake.
“My dad’s not gay. He was married.” Wooyoung’s drops his gun. It’s pointless, useless at this point.” Listen, whatever my dad-“
“Oh, that didn’t stop him from kneeling before me.”
“Watch your mouth.” Wooyoung’s hissed.
“Ah. Sensitive.” Seonghwa lifts his chin, inspecting his face like he’s remembering something, looking for familiarity.” Your father was a skillful man. He only asked for me to stay with him, however, I refused to be a secret.”
“A secret?” Wooyoung slaps his hand away.” My dad didn’t keep secrets. We knew everything. He wouldn’t cheat on my mother.”
“He had a wife and a son.” Seonghwa’s flicks his forehead as if to remind him of his hes the reason of his heartbreak.” He wanted to live two lives, but I do not share what I rightfully own. Especially if I had it first.” He turns to move back towards the living room. Taking back the seat Wooyoung found him in. He rests in it as if he belonged there, comfort evident on his face.
“When you were born I left him, and he’s spent his life trying to find me. Surprisingly you took five decades of his work and found me in less than a month, truly remarkable.”
“You...were fucking my dad?” Wooyoung takes a few steps closer. His father was a truthful man. He loved his mother, he never hurt her, he gave up drinking for her. Wooyoung turns his head at the stranger.
“That’s vulgar.” He rolls his eyes.
“I was in love and instead he got married and had a kid. He summoned me.” He looked down at his hands.
“You’re not someone he can really bring home to his family. Maybe if you were a woman. Whatever you are.” Wooyoung gives a laugh, a nervous habit whenever he was backed into a corner.
“I was prepared to be anything for Ilwoo.I gave him everything he desired.”
“You couldn’t give him a child.” Wooyoung life nearly flashed before his eyes as an angry orange met his dark brown, a burning hand threatening to incinerate his neck from his shoulders.
“I could’ve given him 10 children and keep the body of a virgin. I am a demon, I can create a womb just as I can create a creature of hell with a bit of grass.” Seonghwa took a breath and gave Wooyoung his space. He showed restraint, he was here for a different reason.
“So are you here to take revenge? Did my birth ruin your relationship?” Wooyoung wanted to shut himself up, to beg his mouth to keep him quiet so he can at least live. Ex lovers were always dangerous and ready to kill, but this was a new level.
“No.” Seonghwa backed off.” While it did separate us, Ilwoo had his flaws. I didn’t like his stubbornness or the way he spoke when I told him the truth. He walked away when he was angry and never spoke about what was truly wrong. I loved him deeply, I would never kill a creation of his.” He caresses Wooyoung’s face up to his hairline to grasp a few strands of hair.” You have his fear, the same look when I told him to either leave that woman or leave me.”
“An ultimatum never works in the creators favor.”Wooyoung flinched when the man narrows his eyes.”You didn’t like things about him, so what’s the problem?
“Every couple doesn’t like things about each other.” He snarls, shutting the officer up to close his eyes against the wall in fear. Wooyoung’s nails dig into his palms until the demon backs away from him, straightening out his shirt as if he came as a diplomat.
“What do you want from me?” He dares to open his eyes, trying to sink further into the wall of his home to disappear.
“Nothing. I only wished to gaze at what he left me for. You don’t have his brain. You have your mothers filled with naivety and stupidity. You lack the scientific knowledge and the urge to make more of yourself. You’re exactly like her.”
“And if I was like him?”
“I wouldn’t think to spare your life.” A harsh growl for an answer too quickly for Wooyoung’s liking.
“I’ll ask you again. You want nothing. You’re here for nothing. I doubt someone like you with a broken heart will leave with nothing.” Wooyoung has no weapon, his gun gone. He doubts anything would help defend himself against...this.
“You’re right.” He hisses.” I realized I came to kill the other woman who stole from me.”
He snaps his fingers, the sound catching his attention and his mother appears in the middle of his living room. Her hands are sealed behind her back with zip ties and her mouth his tapes shut.
“What are you going to do to her?” Wooyoung panics, watching ad Seonghwa walks behind his mother, a hand coming over his face before he pulls. She squirms in his grip, the pressure towards her nose and her closed off mouth making her body fight for air. Weaker lungs from smoking for so many years made the process more painfilled.
”Take your hands off of her.” Wooyoung was stuck in his place, looking from the sidelines. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t move to help her. Frozen in ice as a chill struck up his back with the disgusting snap following.
And Seonghwa watched him. Looked along Wooyoung’s tear stained face, distraught and sad as he piles forward to grab her. Her eyes are rolling, unable to keep them on her son.
It was only when her suffering intensified to near suffocation when Seonghwa let her go. Wooyoung dropped to his knees to crawl to the older woman. His hands grab her arms to try and pull her away from this madness.
When she caught her breath to properly cry out her sobs of sadness and pain, Seonghwa’s hand set on her head and twisted her neck in a petrifying direction, separating the bones.
Wooyoung screamed. Goosebumps running up his skin as the shrill left his throat. Wide eyes matching his mother’s dead shocked was.
“Yes, scream as loud as you can. Go on. Yell for help.” Wooyoung’s looked around the foyer as if someone was there to help him. To save him from this hell.
He breaks for the door, shoving it open only to find himself back where he started. He runs again and again and again but he’s back where he stood every time. Each time, Seonghwa is closer until he’s breathing against his neck, his cold lips brushing across the warmth beneath his skin.
“Surprise.” He mimicked the boy, creating fake crying sounds. Pitifully copying him like he was a crybaby, letting a small stubbed toe ruin his day.
Before his eyes played the same snapping sound of his mother’s neck bending in the horrific way it did, over and over again in a slide show of pain.
He felt his heart pounding painfully fast in his chest, unchecked, relentless like an officer beating at his door. His ribs felt every bump, up to his neck and thumping in his ears.
His face grew hot. Seonghwa’s cold aura was still behind him, hands coming up to his shoulders, then his neck, until his hands are touching the warmth of his cheeks.
“Say hi to daddy for me, will ya?”