A/N: did you guys know

that my middle name is 

cliffhanger?

Lol

anyway, thank you for reading. I appreciate all of you! <3

So happy that this book is at 1k!

izzy
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Large thumps could be heard from the interior of the crypt. It was methodical, planned. A steady heartbeat of mass terror.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

And behind it all, the deep, pooling laughter of his father. It echoed off the walls, greeting him with a disturbingly chaotic song when Jimin finally arrived back at home.

But before that...

"Daddy, you're back!"

In an instant, Lucio was at his side, beaming. The half-blood reached down and lifted the little red-head up with tired arms. He did his best to appear okay in front of his son.

His alive son.

"Yes. I'm back. Grandpa still doesn't know you're here, right? You held onto that illusion I placed for you?"

Lucio nodded excitedly, wanting praise. "Yes yes yes yes! That ill ooshin thingy worked. Granpa came into my room...he didn't see me. I was quiet!"

Jimin smiled at the way Lucio's cheeks flushed red with the joy of reuniting with his father again. He hated leaving Lucio in the care of his father's soldiers, but since they were on Jimin's side he knew he could trust them. His father though...

"Hahahahahahaha! Finally--finally!"

The distant, astonished cries sounded insane to Jimin's ears. He clutched onto Lucio tighter.

"Good job, Luce. Now tell me...how long has grandpa been doing that?"

Lucio popped his lower lip out in innocent thought, shaking his head side to side as toddlers are apt to do during serious thinking. "Hmmmm...umm..."

Jimin watched as the young boy brought his fingers up to his face, counting. Lucio was old enough to know his numbers, but the half-demon doubted he knew how to gauge relative time. A laugh (thought not as creepy as his father's) escaped his lips, and Jimin kissed the side of Lucio's cheek.

"Hmmm...one, three...ten? Daddy...I um, don't know-"

"It's okay. I just hope he hasn't been pestering you with his annoying laughter for long. I'm going to go check on him, all right buddy? You stay here and continue playing with your blocks...why don't you build me a huge castle for when I get back?"

Lucio's smile dropped as Jimin set him on the floor. He sulked over to his blocks and nudged at one with his socked feet. 

"I don't wanna, daddy. Why are you going?"

Jimin sighed, kneeling down and reaching for some blocks in a bin on the ground. He began to place blocks in a square form. After a few minutes, the mini structure began to resemble something familiar. Lucio yelled out happily when he understood what it was.

"It's the Stone Castle! The Stone Castle! Daddy--that's awesome-"

"Can you decorate it for me?" Jimin moved away and the young boy instantly took his spot, adding little toys here and there for the guards, flower beds, and other features of the castle. "I'll be back in five minutes. I promise. Okay, Luce?"

Lucio ignored him, fully involved in the making of the castle. After Jimin prodded him again, the young boy mumbled a soft "yes" and went straight back to decorating the front with tiny figurines.

The half-blood stood up and left Lucio be, heading for the sound of something he dreaded to address. The situation with the reanimated corpses...those zombies...he didn't even want to see the final products. His father was going to be dead in less than a week anyway if everything went according to plan, so why bother looking at what wasn't going to be?

Then again...

Things that weren't going to be...

Did he have to look at his unborn son before...? He really didn't, but something in him made him do it anyway. The same curiosity in him drew him to the crypt interior where his father was now. 

Jimin shivered at the memory. He knew that the little fetus he beheld hours earlier would forever stain his nightmares...and his conscious. His hand numbly grazed at the crypt walls as he made his way further in, thinking of these things. Thinking about Florian sending him away and Taehyung confessing his love and Jungkook-

"You look perfect! Here, that's it...come here!"

His father's enraptured voice echoed throughout the hollow walls, bouncing back dryly in the half-blood's ears. Faintly, Jimin began to hear disembodied groans...which made him second guess going to see the source of the noise in the first place. Jimin tried to boost himself up by persuading himself he wasn't a bit scared. 

He was a demon. He had died before. He had come back to life and gained new, special powers. No matter how much of a murderer he had become, or how many bad things he had done, he was not a bad person. 

Jimin was a father, a friend.

Or, at least he was a friend. He didn't think that Eonjin or Florian would ever want to see him again-

"Meet your CREATOR!"

Jimin cringed as his hand wrapped around the dull stone handle of the makeshift crypt entrance ever since the flood. He mentally prepared himself before entering the massive vault full of dead people...ready to face the ones he murdered.

When his eyes adjusted to the torch lit room, he saw his father and another person standing in the center of the room. His father was extremely animated, moving his arms around in explanation to the other person. As Jimin slinked around the outer edges of the room, he noticed the awkward body language in the other individual. 

"Uuuuuuuughggghghhhhhh."

The half-blood frowned at the inhuman moan that the thing had released. His father nodded, giddy that his new creation had tried to speak. Jimin stepped forward, finally making himself visible to both demon and creature.

Weren't they one and the same?

"Ah, Jimin. You've returned." His father didn't have to look up to know that it was his son who'd snuck up on him. No other human could be as agile or surreptitious as Jimin...his father seemed to recognize that. 

"Yes...I have. I bring news." Jimin wandered around the undead man and his father. The zombie-thing didn't stare at him, but seemed to look through him. As if he wasn't in the room. 

"Eonjin has lost her child. Florian appears defeated and won't put up a fight, trust me. As the only two rulers left of Noirwood, they will definitely surrender to you before you even release this army."

Jimin's dad turned to look at him. His eyes regarded him closely, scrutinizing him...as if seeing if the half-blood was lying to him or telling the truth. 

Jimin didn't break eye contact. 

"Wonderful. Their surrender, when it comes, won't stop me from unleashing this army...I hope you know that."

The white-haired man cleared his throat, nodding. There was no use trying to persuade his father with diplomacy or pacifism. War ran innately through Park blood. Whether the battle was fought physically or mentally was up to them. In Jimin, it was mental. His father however, never seemed to sate his need for violence, and lusted over blood ever since he was a child.

"So..." Jimin stepped to the side, gaze falling back on the undead soldier. "Is that thing conscious like you or me? I know you couldn't have possibly animated it with blood like the usual demon-reanimation. That only works fully for...people that love. So it must be...half-stupid?"

Jimin's father scoffed, shaking his head.

"Definitely isn't stupid. It listens to me well. Watch."

With a swipe of the hand, the undead man's attention snapped to his father. His sickly pallor and rotting teeth gave Jimin a disturbing reminder of how these people looked when they were healthy. 

Before he killed them. 

"You." Jimin's father brought his fist down in the air and then pointed at Jimin. The zombie shook slightly, like the creaky hinge on a door. His rheumy eyes flicked towards the half-blood.  "Kill my son."

Jimin lifted an eyebrow.

"Really, father."

The zombie instantly sprung into action, heading straight for Jimin. Although he was fatigued, the half-blood knew he could handle the lame excuse for a warrior limping towards him. Jimin ducked easily under the first punch of the creature and slid behind it. Two sharp hand movements later, the thing's neck snapped.

Jimin wiped his hands on his pants and frowned as the creature fell to the ground in front of him. His father stood there, arms crossed, watching.

"These guys definitely need better hand-to-hand combat training. But how do you even train the undead? They can't learn, they can't even improvise when things happen to them in battl-"

Suddenly, a bony hand grasped at his ankle. Looking down, Jimin gasped when he saw the writhing body of the deathly man.

It was still...alive?

"Shit." Jimin kicked the thing off of him. It groaned, but not in pain. To Jimin, it sounded angry. "So they don't act on brain impulses? Because I know I severed his brain stem-"

"These soldiers don't work like that." A tone of satisfaction laced his father's voice. It definitely got on Jimin's nerves, seeing his old man all boastful and confident. "It takes a lot more to kill them."

Jimin rolled his eyes, attention back on the zombie. It swung out at him, lashing blindly to land any hit on the demon's body. Lucky for Jimin, he was one of the fastest beings in Noirwood, so each punch was easy to dodge. He tried to think of another way to kill off the creature...

Why not the neck, though? He always used the neck on mortals...perhaps if he beheaded the thing...

Fuck...this was going to be bloody...

Jimin jumped high into the air, pushing off of a nearby coffin to gain air time. He twisted his body so that his foot was aimed directly at the neck of the man, hoping to rupture some of the tendons there so that getting his head off without a weapon would be easier. Especially since he was a bit under the weather. 

One swift, crunchy kick later, the corpse was sprawled on its back, neck lolling loosely. Jimin found that he would have been disgusted or freaked out a few moments ago, but once he entered into battle mode, all he saw was red. Nothing was scary to him. Even if the corpse's neck was twisted morosely. 

Death was the only thing on his mind.

Gritting his teeth, he lunged for the zombie, ignoring the amused stare of his father. His fingernails dug into the creature's neck, red eyes blazing. The zombie's arms flailed out uselessly, hands slapping at Jimin's forearms. With a bit of exertion and a few scratches from the undead guy later, Jimin yelled out as the head of the man ripped off. 

Congealed blood and smelly body preservatives spilled out across the crypt floor, soiling Jimin's black shoes. He clenched his jaw as he swiped the stuff off of his cheek.

But the thing didn't stop moving.

Like a chicken with its head cut off, it writhed around, continuing to scratch Jimin. Its eyes rolled frantically around in the back of his head, searching for its demonic foe. The half-blood cursed as its arm caught in his shirt, tearing it down the middle.

"Why won't this fucker die!"

Jimin's father laughed as the white-haired male stomped over to a nearby torch, clutching it hard in frustration. He threw the flaming object at the body of the man, kicking the head of it into the conflagration. The body lit up instantly, rolling around across the stones, still in search of Jimin.

"Jesus..."

Flames licked at the body that literally looked as if it had rolled from hell. Reds, oranges, and yellows engulfed the creature readily, eating away at its physical form and sending its ability to kill into the abyss of neverland. 

A few minutes later, the body had fully burned up, leaving a harsh trace of burning flesh and chemicals in the air. No longer was the thing alive, and its burnt remains simmered on the ground, almost mocking the half-blood.

"That was quite the show."

Jimin squinted at his father, who had a small smirk on his lips. The half-blood remained silent, waiting for his father to continue.

"You see, this army is nearly invincible. Humans will expect an easy kill and that will be their downfall. Underestimation is the fallacy of most strong men...right, Jimin?"

The half-blood felt disgusting under his father's cruel stare. The cold entrails of the dead man dripped down his arms and into his palms. Slowly, the redness of murder faded from his eyes. Jimin cracked his neck before heading for the door.

"Right." He muttered under his breath, opening the vessel to enter the hallway. "I'm going to wash up now."

Jimin's father said nothing as his son left the room, and if he did, Jimin didn't wait to listen. Trudging up the hallway from which his father's laughter was filling only moments prior, Jimin pushed his tears back. He had cried enough that day. 

"Oh shit! Lucio-"

Jimin ran to the living area, hoping his son wasn't too distraught that Jimin had stayed away for much longer than intended. He burst into the room, panting, and was surprised to see his son not there.

"Lucio? Luce! Where are you?"

The room was silent. 

Jimin saw the finished product of the building-block Stone Castle, toppled over across the floor. Tiny figurines were stacked, pointing swords at each other in front of the wreckage. 

"LUCIO!"

"I'm right here, daddy."

Lucio's voice rang out to his left, but when he glanced over to the couches...nobody was there. His eyes searched the pillows, under the blankets, scoured the ceiling, the floor-

"Can't you see me?"

Jimin frowned when he felt a small hand tugging at his bloody shirt. But...nobody was...

"Why are you so full of red mud daddy? Are you hurt? Is someone gone again?"

Oh, the red mud. What he told his son on countless occasions, that he was uncovering treasure in muddy areas of the earth...some day, Lucio would find out the truth. He seemed to already know with how many dead people he was exposed to on a regular basis, but he never asked about the possibility of murder. 

"Why did you take so long?"

Lucio's voice was clear as day. Right there. He tried looking down, but his brain wouldn't let him see...

"Lucio. Make it so that I can see you. Remove the barrier for me, okay?"

Jimin's eyes widened as Lucio suddenly materialized in front of him. He was always there, but it was like the young boy had melted into the back of his conscious, away from his line of sight. It was the same vex he usually placed on himself when going out into public places...but-

"You're using powers this young!? At this age?! I didn't even know that was possible! What even, boy!"

Both happy and shocked, Jimin picked up his son and kissed him on the forehead. Lucio giggled and hugged the demon's neck, crossing his arms. 

"I was only doing what you said...Don't let anyone see you!"

Lucio cheered, pointing at the fallen Stone Castle scattered across the floor. Jimin turned to look at the wreck, waiting for his son to elaborate on it. His son hummed as Jimin walked them near it. 

"Luce, why did the castle fall? Did a dragon get to it again?"

Pulling his hands off of Jimin's neck, Lucio began counting again. "One, two...hmmm...I think three dragons came...yeah. They spitted fire out of their mouths! At the castle! And it broke everywhere."

Scooting the pieces of the mini castle into a pile with his foot, the half-blood couldn't help but think about what his son said. He thought to himself as he carried Lucio up to his room for a bath.

"Yes...fire is destructive...and useful too. Well, you know. You see fire everyday, on the torches." Jimin traced a ticklish finger across Lucio's chest, right over his heart. "And you have the fire right here. Inside your heart."

Lucio giggled.

"Yes! I have the fire. You do, too!"

Jimin cradled his son even closer to his chest. The boy played with the crusted blood on the collar of his shirt, every once in a while tapping on his chest. Right over his heart. 

"We both have it...and that's how we're going to win, okay, Luce? Remember that."

Lucio played with Jimin's cheeks innocently as they entered the bathroom and Jimin prepared the water for a hot bath. His son hopped down and dipped a hand into the filling tub, swirling it around aimlessly. 

"Daddy! Water puts out fire, right?"

Jimin nodded, mulling. Was that the reason for the flooding contraption in the crypt? A protector of sorts--so that the corpses wouldn't light up with all the preservatives they had in them and become useless for his father to use?

Maybe...and perhaps that was how he was going to win against his father. Birthed from the flames of hell only to die by the same means.

It gave him hope.

Fire...

It was a start. 

And a rather warm one. 

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