Chapter 69: Only the Fool loves.

__________________________________________

Hiiiii! I'm done with my exams hahah and I aced all of them so I'm back<3

Content Warning: Read with Caution. This chapter contains the following themes:
-mentions of abuse
-mentions of gore
-gore
-mentions of torture
-torture.
-blood
-the Devil being a creep (I'm sorry but this is a permanent tag for the rest of the chapters)
-horror

__________________________________________

"What should have I done then?! Tell me Heewon-ah! What do you think I should have done?!"

A muffled yell.

"Just... just talk to him please—"

Taehyung flinches at the pleading whisper.

"And tell him what?! Tell him he was wrong?! Tell him he is sick?! Tell him that I should take him to the church?! That the entire world is spitting at him and our family?! That we are all labelled sinners?!"

Silence.

Taehyung closes his eyes. His face is wet.

Ah...

So noisy...

Taehyung stirs.

"I should have... I should have held my hands back... but I just... couldnt bare watch that woman put her filthy hands on him.... "

Taehyung looks up in disbelief at the muddied figures forged out of his distant memory.

"I didn't want to.... I never wanted to hit him... Heewon-ah.... what have I done?"

This... this is not right.

"I don't know.. how to help him... what to tell him... I don't know... Heewon-ah... I don't know how to console him— I... I feel like I'm failing as his father–"

This is not right.

Not right.

Not right!

Taehyung jolts awake, drenched in cold sweat.

"Ah—" Leira, the handmaiden squeaks quickly leaning away.

Taehyung shoots a sharp glance and the Demon lowers her gaze, her fingers twiddling nervously.

"This one apologizes...— it's just you–" she pauses "seemed to be in pain in sleep... this one was jus—"

Taehyung sighs and sits up, leaning against the headboard.

"Its alright. I believe you."

The girl looks up, her ceramic face, although expressionless seemed to be shocked. She straightens her posture, shallowly gulping.

"Did I speak of anything?" Taehyung asks, sighing into his hand feeling a headache approaching.

"Just bits..." the Demon girl pauses, "of a fa—"

"That's enough." Taehyung cuts in.

Bygones were bygones.

An illusion of his mind in a desperate search of solace couldn't ever be real.

His relationship with his parents was too bleak to ever consider it something as a matter of significance.

He would send a hefty cheque twice yearly, a form of compensation for the years they put a roof over his head, fed and clothed him. One would say he's diligent for a son, but Taehyung was just returning a debt that could only be paid fully with his death alone.

Taehyung looks up from his hands, gritting his teeth as though he could see blood on his palms.

Hyunwoo's death on his hands, hit that nail for him.

That... was the reality.

Even if he wasn't the murderer, he was made to feel like one.

He still feels like one.

The blood remained like a stain that he couldn't wash off no matter how hard he dug his nails into his flesh.

They wouldn't let him forget and Taehyung wouldn't let himself forget either.

"Do not mention it ever again." Taehyung says, his tone icy.

The handmaiden doesn't respond and Taehyung looks up at her.

"Understood." She mumbles faintly, the skin around her mouth wrapping back up to a smooth ceramic texture.

Taehyung sighs, turning to his side, to step out of the bed. His bare feet land flat on the floor, his clothes once more changed to dull grey robes.

"Where is your sister?" Taehyung asks, straightening up as he stands— a dull ache in his body that keeps throbbing with every move he makes.

"Viri is assigned work outdoors..." the Demon replies, clasping her hands. "But first, this one would like to ask, how we should formally address the guest?"

Taehyung pauses to look down at the handmaiden who stood several heads shorter than him.

He wrinkles his nose at that.

Does Hell offer that sort of formality to outsiders— let alone a human nonetheless?

Jimin had taken longer to warm up to him— but as for the two handmaiens, apart from the brief hostility at the beginning, they seemed to have overturned to a new leaf in the expanse of a day or two.

It was suspicious.

Taehyung cannot trust them just yet.

The dull ache shoots in his head and he winces.

It would be wise of him to not trust.

Not the Demon before him.... or his friend that no longer was his friend... or the one that bludgeoned him to near death.

He can't trust Jungkook either.

He couldn't.... not when Jungkook— is... no longer Jungkook.

Something happened while he was unconscious. Something terrible, that lead to this unforseen predicament. Hours ago before he had begrudgingly fallen asleep from exhaustion, Taehyung thought of all sorts of things that resulted to this fate— but even more so he spent greater time inspecting himself, pinching and prodding at his own skin— this was real.

Everything that happened, was real.

And the seemingly cruel person who wore the skin of the person he most adored, was real too. Cruel, Cruel down to the bone, unfathomable evil down to his very last hair— the man, the Devil, who was taller than he remembered, with his hair longer, his gait stronger, with skin much paler while his irises blazing like flames of the hearth of Hell in its flesh.

Taehyung clenches his fingers tight, fighting the tremble in them.

Real.

And he cannot trust anybody.

Except for .... just perhaps....

"You may call me by my name." Taehyung responds, cautiously.

The Demon looks up, her bangs sweeping away just above her wide plain white eyes.

The flesh around her mouth opens "this one, is not allowed to do that! This one is warned against it!"

Taehyung narrows his eyes, at the choice of words. The handmaiden hadn't used formality to this extent before, that she'd subject herself to 'this one's rather than an "I"

Not to mention.... Warned against it? Taehyung's frown deepens.

"Then you may call me whatever you please. Titles don't mean much to me anyway." He shuffled along, averting his gaze.

He's not here to make merry talks, certainly not when he has no grasp of time nor day while he's trapped within the realm. Taehyung worries for the state of the outside world. The streets were panic-driven, the last he remembered, but adding the existence of 'this' Jungkook to the equation, no matter how much he consoled himself— it seemed perilous.

Taehyung worried.

Hoseok.

His colleagues.. friends... neighbours.

And Jimin.

He has to make contact with Jimin, before anything else. If there's anyone who could shed some light on what was happening— it was him.

"Then, allow this one to address the esteemed Consort." The dainty voice ripped by and Taehyung turned to look at the handmaiden, confused.

"What?" He barked, almost automatically.

Leira made no notion to explain further, which confused Taehyung even more.

"I... wait— firstly– could you please drop the honorific, it's uncomfortable— and secondly" He paused, gesturing at himself "I am a man."

"This one–" she pauses "I am aware, I was the one who changed the Consort into his new clothes."

Taehyung cringed at that, self conscious all over again.

"I am not a Consort." Taehyung stressed the words, incredulous .

"These are the chambers fitting for a Consort and our Lord has warned us against letting your leave these quarters." She replies, monotonously as if that suffices.

It does not.

Taehyung doesn't like the sound of it— it's almost like mockery to his ears. He knew, Jungkook wouldn't lie to his face, he knew he didn't lie that night they spent in the Gardens— he knew he was needed; perhaps as a partner, a companion, a presence... but nothing more. His words, echoed in Taehyung's ears like a siren's song, over and over again, chipping away at his heart.

'I can't'

I can't.

These were true.

The title however....

The word Consort was shameful as it was, but considering his affection and the weight of truth that revolved around it, Taehyung felt humiliation burn him. To be reduced to a mere "bed-warmer" as cruelly, Jungkook had suggested.... it all trickled down like poison full of shame.

And then there was fear. Consort certainly didn't seem bad, for a title if she wanted the affection of her King— but Taehyung was no damned woman, let alone a Consort. The fear was palpable to the unveiled threats, the Devil had snarled against his skin, digging blackened claws into his flesh, uncaring of his pain and Comfort.

Taehyung felt fear towards this Jungkook.

Fear as thick as molten lava that slowly crept towards him, the primary heat of it, followed by the scorching burn and then the all consuming flames that would reduce his bones to ash.

This is what it meant to play with the Devil in its true essence.

Taehyung was scared.

"And still I'm not... please just call me anything else but that—" he pleads and Leira watches him wordlessly.

"Then I shall call the guest Master, if that is okay?"

Taehyung looks at her and simply sighs.

It's not to his comfort, but it's better than a title of a King's toy.

He inspects the room once more, the high ceiling designed to fine architecture that had slightly morphed. The tall pillars and the smooth floors. Fresh air blew in from the open doors ahead of him that overlooked a garden, a fountain of sorts situated in the middle that seemed to have changed us center piece from a swan to a fish.

So it changes, Taehyung registers confirming his suspicions.

The void of his prison was ever changing, some details glitches out and new things replaces it over time.

He glances at the other huge door to his left that was firmly shut close.

His exit... tempting... but false.

Taehyung doesn't barrel towards it, knowing it'd be fruitless. Viri, the day earlier seemed anxious enough when he was eyeing the door in suspicion and was quickly ushered away by the Demon handmaiden, in a wordless attempt of trying to warn him against it.

Taehyung had then not too belatedly realized, the girls were watching his moves— but they also seemed vigilant enough to guard him against foolish mistakes driven by his natural curiosity. The arched doorway, was one of them—  a test to see if he'd disobey a primary rule, like dangling candy before a child's eyes.

He wasn't entirely stupid like that, but he certainly didn't opt to sit a duck and was adamant on silently analyzing his escape.

He couldn't be obvious– lest he anger the sole other presence that was stalking his every move.

He wasn't present, but Taehyung could feel His eyes.

Watching him like a hawk, a predator waiting for his prey to make a wrong move so that he could snap its neck.

He shudders, unable to rid himself of the presence, so he lets it be.

He cannot afford to behave panic driven and frazzled in a world like this, knowing his captor doesn't have a shred of mercy coursing in his veins right now.

Taehyung believes, if he's to display weakness of any sort... he will be discarded at the first notice.

Or worse... killed.

It was simply an assumption that he blindly rode on, picking out traits of this Jungkook and the Jungkook he had encountered for the first time in his life.

Amusement, curiosity, danger, vigilance, malice.

As long as he can keep the Devil entertained regardless what measure piques the man, he will live.. and should he fail.....

It's an inevitable end.

So he calms his nerves, exhales through his nostrils and presses his fingers together to sate the cold in them.

He has to survive.

He has to do whatever he can before the Devil returns in his flesh, the promise of his ruin etched into his brain loud and clear.

"Do you have my belongings?" Taehyung asks Leira, "from the clothes I wore before coming here?"

"Items that are likely to cause you harm have been confiscated and cannot be returned Master." The girl responds.

Taehyung scoffs at that. He's not brazen enough to shoot himself in his confinement.

But this was expected, although he hoped he'd recieve his smartphone at the least but then he doubts if he can even attempt contacting somebody from this enclosed place.

"But... I did keep this aside, thinking it would be important to Master" she speaks, her voice soft as she rummaged through her little bag around her waist.

Taehyung cannot remember anything of importance that could be used in a situation like this, but steps towards her nonetheless as she stretches her fist ahead, her finger ceramic smooth.

Something drops from her hand and into Taehyung's palm. It's soft and fragile, almost quivering.

Taehyung stares at it, feeling conflicted.

His heart aches.

"Ah— ah.. Master? Should I've not—?"

Taehyung quickly turns away, his fingers carefully wrapped around the petite little thing so as to not damage it.

"Ah— thankyou." He swallows heavily "I— I would like to be left alone for a while..."

Leira doesn't respond, but feels guilty enough that she quietly leaves.

Taehyung slowly unfurls his fingers.

Jungkook... he whispers to himself and something twists in his chest.

The crumpled red orchid stares back at him.

********

Jimin walks down the halls sneakily, his pupils dilated to adjust to the dark on his descent.

He ignores the chattering of the other guards and slithers past them without their notice. Having the comfortable weight of the Eye, torn off of him— what once felt like fear and insecurity, had now morphed into his advantage.

He could move around without the fear of the Devil spying on him.

Jimin crouched behind the rock Boulder around the corner and watched the Demon guard, who was posted to the entrance of the Prison.

The Demon was at least 8ft tall, with three heads that watched all the three directions at once, limiting Jimin's chances to sneak by easily.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance..

This old buffoon.. he curses inwardly.

The Demon, Rugak was tame to some extent having severely damaged speech, but was incredibly perceptive having 3 brains instead of one. One wrong move, could set him off into a crazed bloodlust.

Rugak was Forged from 3 mortals that committed heinous crimes who pleaded guilty during fair trial and when they descended hell on death, the Ruler of the Infinite Hells granted them mercy on a single condition that their heads be sewn together on a monster's body and then He had stuck in a piping red hot iron poke down their throats as they wailed in agony, a punishment for their lies as their esophagus charred off, while the residents of the City of Hell cheered at the public execution, living out their sick fantasies.

It was a spectacular sight. Jimin remembers it as clear as day how it reverberated in his veins.

He was mesmerized by the prowess of the King.

He feared the King.

Even more so, he was amazed by the King.

A peerless beauty, a star plucked out of the sky, Jimin as a pup, was enamored by the lofty being who was so mercilessly cruel, the fire in his eyes that burned brighter than the hearth of Hell and the blood on his cheeks that shimmered when he grinned in malice.

Jimin fell for the King as a juvenile.

He wanted Him, wanted to be wanted by Him.

An obsession that took root in him that day, had grown to shackle him later.

Bound to eternity. A King and his guard dog.

Except— he was no longer perpetually bound.

Jimin looked up from his fleeting thoughts and towards Rugak.

Jimin could kill the bastard in a single strike if he wanted to— but should the guard be found missing then it would entail a hassle.

Jimin sighs and stands up, walking towards the Demon with an aloof expression.

Rugak's eyes narrowed down at him in question.

"I need to see a Prisoner." He looks up at the Demon sharply, his irises striking red.

Rugak doesn't budge and Jimin narrows his eyes.

"Few hundred years and now you're deaf too?" Jimin spits venomously and at the words, Rugak huffs angrily stepping fowards as if wanting to plummel the smaller Demon down.

"I am not responsible to what will entail if you strike me first. I am warning you." Jimin's words are accompanied with a low threatening growl and Rugak stops abruptly at the oppressive aura. "Your disregard towards the words of your Lord's handpicked guard and protector is a matter of offense."

Jimin grins wide with not a hint of humor in it, watching Rugak shrink back. Jimin however, is relentless and steps forward boldly.

"Perhaps you're tired of this body and I should help you sever your head hm?"

Flesh peels off Jimin's smooth face, revealing his true nature "perhaps I should truly make an example out of you?"

No more words and Jimin is granted access to the Dungeons. It worked in his favor, but now news is likely to reach to the Devil's ears about his little excursion.

Jimin grits his teeth and decides he should be quick about it and descends down the spiralling path to the depths, where suppressed energy was being chained.

Warm light from torches spills onto the paved floors of rock and mud. Jimin's footsteps are quiet as he steps into the light and at once he's the subject of 11 fiery golden irises.

"Greetings." Jimin steps ahead, aloof and poised— his black robes fluttering lazily, half of his chest out in proud display.

"YOU TRAITOR—!" A Silver Angel clangs against the prison bars of Eternal Confinement, an enchantment one like the Silver Angel's own, that couldn't be broken by an opponent, unless a stronger self or the caster himself breaks it.

Jimin pays no attention to the aggressive bird and instead focuses on the sole Silver Angel who sat with his back turned away, in complete impending silence— that somehow seemed foreboding.

There is one thing the King of Hell, his master and savior had repeatedly warned him— to never, ever, pull arms against the Guardian. If by any chance he's to face off against that one Silver Angel, always, run away first.

Never. Engage.

Jimin watches the Silver Angel's broad back with steely eyes.

This aura was familiar to his senses— overwhelming power concealed by the fragility of flesh no different than that of his own Master.

The Guardian was a beast in disguise.

And Jimin could sense his wrath even with distance.

It was understood, afterall... he had gutted a Silver Angel with his own hands before their very eyes.

Hostility permeated through their gaze, even the littlest of them all, an Angel with ginger hair who sat by the Guardian's knees was peeking at him with eyes full of ill-concealed anger.

"What do you want, Jimin, torturer of the Infinite Hells?" The voice booms and Jimin instinctively stiffens at his given title being spoken out of the Guardian's mouth.

"Am I not allowed to come see the preparations of my Master's appetizer?" His tone dripped with provocation and despite that barrier between the two, a chill ran down Jimin's spine when the temperature dropped instantly when the Guardian peeked over his shoulder, watching him through the corner of his all-seeing eyes.

"You should count your prayers... Demon." The word at the end slipped by like a curse and Jimin chuckled inwardly.

The Guardian was pissed.

"For a dead bird you're talking too loud." Jimin retorts and is immediately met with more fierce snarls.

"YOU DARE—!"

"YOU INSOLENT MONGREL, MAY THE LORD SMITE YOU—"

"YOU INSIGNIFICANT DOG!—"

Jimin paced around, casually picking out his ear "ahh so noisy... squawk squawk just like Seoul market of festering seagulls..." he laughed igniting the flames even further.

He glanced at the Guardian who was looking at him a troubled expression and Jimin felt naked all over, it was almost as if he could read him.

And Jimin knew what exactly he was reading.

He could sense shuffled footsteps vibrate above.

Jimin exhaled and met the Guardian's intense gaze and with a smile enough to mock the Silver Gates out of their prestigious status,  he recites:

"The hour is close
to the coronation feast.
The portals have reformed
and the golden Throne forged.
The murder shall descend
to drag your chains.
For the bells have rung
The arrow drawn
On the seventh, it's only the righteous fool
that shall perish,
beneath the dust left by my King."

The Silver Angels watch stunned, at the bold cryptic declaration of the apocalypse of the realms. They run their anxious gaze back to their Guardian, who says naught and stares at the Demon with his frighteningly golden irises.

The Coronation feast, is set into stone.

The portals reformed, is likely that more hellions have descended Earth, surpassing the boundaries of Seoul.

The Golden throne, means the King of the Infinite Hells has reinstated his powers, or is close to doing so— meaning, Kiwoo's final vow and protection will soon be meaningless.

The murder, is of ravens and the one who was called raven, had died, and so who followed her shall soon follow the path.

The bells have rung, the arrow drawn... the beckoning of the Judgement day.

Namjoon stares at the Demon who grits his jaw, his crimson irises shaking almost imperceptibly.

A message of desperate declaration.

A message of a silent plead.

Namjoon swallows every word in his head and smoothens his face, and he nods faintly— the Demon's eyes widen, he scoffs and then turns away.

Namjoon stares at the Demon whose figure recedes into the darkness, his black robes fluttering yet to his all-seeing eyes, the ripped red string stood out as a singularity before it vanished behind the darkness.

A bond broken.

There was only one person Jimin was bonded to and that was somehow ripped out.

Namjoon knows, as prideful and obsessive the Devil was, he wasn't one to free his belongings off his hands— but if he had torn the born between Jimin and himself, then it was likely— it was to protect the Demon.

Even in his final moments of conscious on the land of mortals, the Devil had forcibly taken this route— to face death alone so that his pain wouldn't thrum through the latter.

In his final moments, he had thought of Jimin.

Perhaps... Jimin knows that too.

Or perhaps... he doesn't...

But what Namjoon knows, is if he manages to kill the Devil, Jimin would survive.

A righteous fool... although..

Who is the righteous fool who would die battling the bringer of Chaos?

Is it Him, the Guardian?

Or is it him, the Guard Dog?

Namjoon looks at the curious, anxious set of eyes that are awaiting his response.

He sighs and looks down at Jeongin, the little one and places his hand over his ginger hair. A day had passed since their confinement.

Namjoon looks at his siblings, his eyes firm.

"In seven days... the mortal realm will be destroyed."

Shocked gasps escape the Angel's mouths.

It is expected, Namjoon had a vision afterall. A tiny lick in his ear, of a voice he adored and worshipped— that filled him with warmth.

He knew everything he had to know with his enlightenment and more to that, that they weren't abandoned.

He was watching them.

He was with them.

And even so, if in seven days he isn't able to contain the bringer of Chaos...

The one to purge the mortal realm... wouldn't be Hell.

Rather the Silver Gates.

He'd die as a righteous fool.

Namjoon only prays that he manages to bring down the Devil before that.

**********

Jimin narrows his eyes, hearing the screams echo off the walls.

His hands are free, but the two guards who stand on either side of him, are no different than shackles binding him down.

The scent of putrid Demon blood reaches him and he wrinkles his nose at that— he knows that stench.

He steps into the throne room, a wide expanse despite fairly underground with high ceilings.

There were few subjects standing post at the center aisle and over the raised stage, was a glinting golden Throne— where an ominous presence sat, his eyes boredly watching the spectacle before him—

And the spectacle— truly...  Jimin clenches his jaw when the figure moans out loud, blood splattering onto the already bloodied floor.

This shameless bastard.... he curses to himself.

The whip cracks in the air and once more snaps across the marred flesh— the Demon moans yet again. A loud squelch of his flesh being ripped out resonates, yet the bastad only moans in what seems to be of pleasure.

He looks at the Demon sprawled naked at his feet and clicks his tongue, irked.

The Demon, Hyunho, however gives a crazed bloodied toothy grin—

This sadistic freak.

He averts his eyes and looks up at the throne to find two crimson eyes already pinned at him.

"Get out" is all He says and the rest, quickly scramble out of the hall. Hyunho is dragged out of the hall by his legs, leaving a blood trail and only Jimin remains.

"This guard, greets His Master." Jimin bows.

The Devil doesn't respond anything and instead scrutinizes him with his crimson eyes. Jimin stares back, displaying weakness— meant death.

"I heard you crept into the Dungeons. Why?"

Jimin faintly smiles "I wanted to mock my supposedly old acquaintances."

"Hm... and the truth?"

Jimin stops smiling and sighs, sagging his shoulders "I went to see how far out the protection enchantment of the deceased bird was holding out— it's still in effect... so it would take slightly longer for it to break than I calculated."

The Devil hums at the response "so you think I'm unable to break it down myself now?"

A trick question. Jimin hated these.

"My Master, conquered Hell and is infinitely able to conquer the Silver Gates... a measly charm is nothing, but then again I believe it would be better to wait until the 7th day– on everything falling into place, their execution, would be fitting to the King's taste."

The Devil laughs at that and Jimin almost feels nostalgic at the sight of that smile. "Flattery... how eloquent." He chuckles menacingly "is this something new you learned over the years?"

Jimin would have answered sarcastically, but now he knows his limits.

"May I know, why Hyunho was being punished?" Jimin asks, changing the subject and the Devil rolls his eyes.

"How can I sit idle knowing that he struck against me? Piercing me with a divine arrow not once but twice... only means I have to return to whip him until his skin sheds— hah!" He huffs, easing back into his throne.

"You won't... kill him?" Jimin squeaks. He was sure, Jungkook would have killed him.

The Devil peeks at him "kill? Why kill that useless dog? Useless may he be, but I awakened because of his stupidity— well, I will not be thankful to a slobbering mutt like that who dares to get aroused before his King..." the Devil pauses, his eyes gleaming "maybe I should indeed castrate him..."

Jimin exhales lamenting, and shuts his eyes "perhaps, you can leave an awful job like that to this guard, Master. Any attention from Master, even in the slightest notion, gets him aroused like a bitch in heat. I will see to it, that he's throughly punished."

"Hm.. are you loyal to me, Jimin?"

At the words, Jimin's eyes fly open only to find the Devil mere inches away from his face.

He's startled, eyes wide and his breath is stuck in his lungs, unable to breathe.

"Yes..." he replies, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Is that so?" The Devil croons, looming over him. He takes his face in his large warm hand and Jimin freezes.

The Devil leans in close and Jimin's lips tremble, as the chaos advances him— their lips mere inches apart.

He's so close. So close.

Jimin wanted this. Has dreamt of this. Affection.

Affection of any sort.

He has craved for it since the first day he glanced upon the Devil.

He's loved him.

Loved loved loved him.

And yet, Jimin moves away first in the last second.

It comes off as surprise, even to him— that he dare move away.

The warm breath hovers above his cheek and Jimin cannot muster courage to look up at the Devil.

"Do you no longer love me, Jimin?" The words are of whisper, but Jimin can sense malice in them.

Love was mockery.

A foreign thing that didn't exist in the realm of Hell.

Even so... his desire towards the Devil was Love.

Love of allegiance, love of service, love of flesh... primal, carnal, innate desire— Jimin has lived through it and accepted it– that he would never be considered anything other than a Guard of a lifetime.

But was that love?

Love was when he was accepted as he was.

Love was his friendship.

Love was to forgive.

Love was to protect.

He loved.

Loves.

Jimin looks up at the Devil who grins at him knowingly "do you want to meet the mortal you so desperately love?"

Jimin's throat wobbles, stripped bare before the eyes that engulfed him whole.

"If that is your desire, I shall let you meet him... your love and my toy..."

Jimin's lips tremble, a pleading whisper that doesn't slip past his tongue.

"Speak Jimin." 

Jimin's heart shakes, the confirmation before his eyes.

He loves him. Taehyung.

His first friend, his savior.

The one he will gladly lose his head for, as a righteous fool.

"yes..please"

*********

Taehyung sat out on the porch, overlooking the garden.

It is Viri who stands beside him, her gaze intensely boring into him.

Taheyung wonders if she's got something to say, but then again it's futile since he cannot understand her either way, without the interpretation of Leira, who had made herself scarce for the moment.

He wants to convey himself, that he doesn't understand the reason behind his sole confinement— but there is something foreboding that swirls in his chest that entire settle well with his thoughts.

Taehyung sighs.

He doesn't understand this Jungkook.

He has infact... never understood Jungkook.

The red orchid rests against the layers of his robe, against his chest, hidden away from sight.

He can only lie in wait, counting hours until the man returns.

Taehyung feels at loss.

He sighs oncemore and a faint rustle of robes reaches his ears. He stiffens almost immediately, until he hears a throaty growl leave Viri's lips and he quickly turns to look behind— a figure in dark robes stood beyond Viri's protective stance.

Taehyung's eyes meet his eyes and his lips quiver, he scrambles to his feet.

He nudges the handmaiden away and with wobbly feet, he makes his way to the figure, embracing him in his arms.

"You're alright..." Taehyung whispers in relief, squeezing the Demon in his arms "I was so worried.. I'm glad you're alright.."

Taehyung pulls away, to look at the Demon– his eyes glassy, his lips pulled taut.

"Jimin... say something... please.."

At the words, the Demon's face crumbles even further. He slowly, detaches himself out of the mortal's arms, stepping a polite distance away. "This servant, greets Master." He says somberly and it prickles Taehyung's throat like a nasty burn.

"What? Why you too?! Jimin! What has been going on? What happened to Jungkook?! What happened to you?! What the fuck is happening?!" Taehyung cries out, stepping forward, demanding answers "what happened?! What happened that night?"

Jimin opens his mouth drop then closes it, then opens again "My Master... the King of the Infinite Hells, was reborn. Please.. address him by his title and never by his name."

Taehyung shakes his head, in disbelief "what? What do you— Jimin why are you speaking like this? Please just... how can we.. how can we turn him back? How can we turn this back?!"

"There is no turning back."

Taehyung's breath comes out stuttered, his hopes being crushed.

"Jimin please... I know you have a way... you always have a way— please—"

"I had warned you against this." The Demon replies, monotonously "to desire somebody like him... comes with a price. I asked you to run away. To never return. To reject it."

Taehyung's lips quiver.

Don't look at me like that.

Don't you dare look at me like that.

Jimin shakes in the place where he stands.

His own words bite him.

To desire somebody comes with a price.  He tried to run away, he tried to never return, he tried to reject it.

But Jimin has always been a fool.

He thought when the time came, he could pick the knife.

The metal— was not Mortem. Taehyung would die easily if he pierced him through his heart. It rested cooly against his wrist where he hid it.

He thought he could muster courage to kill the mortal before him.

End his misery.

End his life before he suffers for eternity.

"Jimin! Please— there is nobody else who can help me–"

Don't look at me like that.

"How can I leave this— how can I stop Jungkook?"

Don't speak to me.

"Jimin please I beg of you–!"

Arms grips his shoulder.

Jimin's fingers tremble.

He can't do it.

He can't do it.

He twists away, his chest burning, his eyes prickling.

He's a coward.

He loved. He loves. He's loved.

Only a fool loves.

He hastily walks away.

Is this why the Devil let him in? To show his shortcomings? To show his own misery? To show how incompetent he is? That he could never have what he truly wants?

"Jimin I'm scared of him!" The voice yells through and his footsteps fall short, frozen. He can't turn to look back at Taehyung, he simply cannot.

"I am scared of him.. of Jungkook." Taehyung whispers, confessing. His eyes fixated on the hem of the Demon's robes. "And I... I don't know what to do... I don't know Jimin...  I... please... help me..."

Taehyung's chest aches, having to say this outloud.

But it is what Jungkook, himself had whispered to him.

'If there comes a time where you're truly scared of me, run away. To Jimin. To Namjoon. They'll keep you safe.'

Jimin doesn't reply and Taehyung stares at the Demon, with red rimmed eyes.

His heart shatters.

"Oh... " he whispers "..am I... going to live.. Jimin?" He asks instead, pathetically and the Demon slowly turns to look at him whose eyes mirrored his own, glassy and red rimmed, itching to cry.

Something begins to swirl infront of Jimin, like a portal opening and Jimin's right arm disappears through it.

Taehyung's eyes widen and he runs towards the Demon who was being swallowed up by the ripple in air.

"NO—!" He cries out frantically.

"You'll have to endure... you have to survive." is all Jimin says and before the portal engulfs him, Taehyung watches the tear trickle down the Demon's cheek, his lips moving

'I'm sorry'

Taehyung lets out a desperate cry, his arms flinging ahead as he stumbles on the ground, bruising his knees— yet before his hands reach the ground, somebody grabs him, forcing him to look up.

"Crying for somebody who isn't even dead... tell me mortal, is crying your favorite hobby?" The voice is full of mockery and amusement.

"Of all the things I remember— I think your crying is the most ugliest."

Taehyung grits his teeth and tries to pull his hand away from the grip.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It'd be so easy to rip off your arm now" The Devil grins and Taehyung believes him.

He stops struggling.

The Devil smirks, then begins chuckling ominously "tell me... do you love the Guard Dog? I can bring him back in here for you, if you say so."

Taehyung looks at the the Devil helplessly, his emotions of agony and anger ricocheting at once, but then again there was familiarity in those words.

Of all the things that remained from the Jungkook before and this Jungkook... was his ill concealed jealousy.

Taehyung stares at the Devil.

The Jungkook he knows, is somewhere beyond those eyes.

He can sense it.

"Are you conflicted?" The Devil clicks his tongue "too bad, I don't care about your response. I do not intend Jimin meeting you ever again, afterall— a failed assassination, is still an attempt to assassinate... perhaps I should kill him?"

Taehyung trembles, his face aghast "what do you mean by that?!"

"Oh.. he didn't tell you? He had planned to kill you here. Mercy killing, that is." The Devil grins, in delight watching how pale the mortal grows. "Kill you with his own hands, before I sink my teeth in you... preposterous isn't it?"

The Devil drops his hand and it flops to the ground, weak.

Jimin had come to kill him.

But why?

Why?

What is it that he couldn't just tell him, but would instead opt to kill him?

And even if he had planned so... why didn't he kill him?

Betrayal begin to surge in Taehyung's heart.

Jimin had come to kill him.

"..but then again, it is an old saying— do not befriend a Demon, for he'll never be your friend."

The words are enough to gut him.

Jimin had come to kill him.

His friend. His savior.

A large hand grabs his hair, his face pulled up making him face the Devil, who grins sardonically.

"However.. this view isn't too bad." The Devil smiles.

"Get on your knees"

_______________

_______________

Author's Note:

Get on your knees, because we're praying— in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit.

I teared up writing this chapter hahaha...

*******
Author: that was such a chilling cliffhanger, I have no words—

Taehyung: yeah, it wasn't supposed to end there, but then the director decided the viewers needed a mental break to process things

Author: I can tell.. sheesh... um wow that was intense. What was the idea behind it? This whole interaction between, Jimin and you and then the Devil—? The previous episodes confirmed that, your love towards the Devil was platonic right? And then now??"

Jimin: ahem.. about that. Yeah. It is platonic— but in a very obsessive, disgusting way.

Jungkook: hey—! What do you mean disgusting?!

Jimin: youre the one that tried to kiss me when you've got a husband at home shutup please.

Jungkook: agin. Again. *pointing at accusatory finger* I was just following the script. Viewrs please— I'm just following the script.

Author: so you're supposed affection towards Taehyung now is..???

Jimin: *sighs* the same thing... but in a less disgusting way.

Jungkook: you!

Taehyung: yes thankyou Jimin, I love you too.

Jungkook: *stares in disbelief* yeah yeah he tried to kill you!

Taehyung: your incitement doesn't work on me off stage dummy.

Jungkook: BUT I CLEARLY LOVE YOU MORE?!?!

Taehyung: you're the object of my suffering.

Jungkook: :(

Taehyung: I'm lying♡

Jungkook: :D <3

Jimin: *watching in scorn* they're more disgusting than I can ever be.

Author: *watching in jealousy* ..... I can tell.

__________

Lol.

No matter how light hearted I'm trying to make this be I just can't hahah...

This is not going to be a fun ride full of shit and giggles anymore, but I  /HAVE/  to finish with this book...

Thankyou for all the love and patience.

Love,
J