(A/N: I'm double uploading, meaning I was supposed to upload this 'yesterday' which was by birthday. Sadly, I got sidetracked in all the festivities. So, instead I shall upload this at 12 in the morning the 'next day'...woo)

"W-What?"

"The man, the one with the bright silver eyes. You like him, right? You can't seem to stop thinking about him-"

"How do you know about him?"

Jin's voice was stern, his gaze accusatory. The priest leaned in too close for comfort, eyes narrowed with a glint of anger. Jungkook then realized how much privacy he just invaded, guilt, and the sudden need to explain himself, washing over him.

"Wait, that's not what I meant, I'm sorry. Let me explain, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything, I was just curious, and your mind was practically screaming this one thought about that one dude. In fact, I didn't even really have a choice- "

"Jungkook,"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, and go to the sanctuary,"

"But- "

"No"

"The voices- "

"Go to the sanctuary,"

He has really done it now, Jungkook hasn't seen Jin this angry since...well...he attacked that healer. Not to mention, the tone of finality the priest used could only mean one thing. He was going to the service, and nothing would change his mind. Even if Jungkook was rolling on the floor in pain, he would have to sit through the hymns and blessings. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that man to Jin...

Well it's too late now.

Jungkook got up with reluctance, grumbling under his breath as he made his way to the door. Before he could leave, Jin grabbed his wrist, giving him an amused expression.

"You aren't going in your sleepwear, are you?"

Jungkook slammed his palm against his forehead, growing red. He forgot that he only just woke up not even 10 minutes ago, although the constant dull buzz of pain in his back kept him up most nights, this night was one of the rare exceptions. The pain was dulled enough so that it wasn't unbearable, but always ever present so that it wouldn't ever leave the forefront of his mind, it was always there. Like a constant bug flying around your head that you just can't get to leave you alone.

"Oh, and Jungkook, you aren't allowed to wear white shirts in public,"

Jungkook looked at the preacher in confusion, that soon turned into anger. He was ready to argue the fact that he might have indeed invaded Jin's privacy, but getting rid of his right to wear white shirts was just wrong and unfair. Although before he could get a word out, or even read his mind, Jin was gone.

Jungkook huffed, pouting at nothing. Dragging his feet towards his wardrobe to put on a non-white shirt, because apparently, he had no rights in this church.

Albeit, he wasn't made aware of the sprawled-out rune on his back, and the fact that said rune would shine straight through a white shirt. Black was a much better cover up, the town couldn't know that their priest-in-training was harboring such magic, it was just taboo. 

In fact, if you asked Jungkook about all the weird magic-related occurrences he experienced, he would tell you he never asked for any of it, no one ever did.

After pulling on a black button up Sunday shirt and a pair of black slacks, Jungkook slipped into his shoes. Muttering about how evil the church was for stripping him of his choosen wardrobe.

But as soon as he creaked opened his door, it was as if a dam broke, as a tidal wave of voices washed over him. Some whispered, others screeched and screamed, but none of them stopped. Jungkook nearly crumpled to the floor, the new-found pressure in his head unbearable. All outside noise ceased, all of it drowned out by the dozens of voices swamping his mind.

"Mr. Jeon, are you alright sir?"

Jungkook looked up from where he was hunched over, meeting a pair of worried eyes through his blurry vision. It was one of the younger sisters, newer to the church. He could tell by the youthful glow, and the bright wide eyes of said nun. The nun placed her delicate hand on his shoulder, bending over to meet Jungkook's troubled gaze.

"Sister, can you please do me a favor?" He croaked out, trying not to wince from the effort it took to utter those few words.

"Of course, sir! What do you need?" The nun sounded eager to prove herself to the older, maintaining her blazing gaze.

"Help me to the sanctuary, but let me go when we reach the end of the hall, can you do that?"

"Of course! But don't you think it's better to get some more rest?"

"I'm fine, just a small stomach cramp, I should be fine for the service,"

Jungkook offered her a weak smile, fighting through the major headache that only increased the longer he stood doubled over in the hall.

She nodded, expression still conveying worry, but obeyed anyway. The nun wrapped her arm around Jungkook's middle, helping him straighten up. Jungkook tried his best to keep his cool as he neared the service hall, but it just kept getting louder.

With great effort, the pair reached the end of the hallway. The nun unwrapping herself from Jungkook, letting him lean against the wall. She peered around the corner, where all the townsfolk were chatting away.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay Mr. Jeon?"

He just lazily grinned at her, trying to will away the obvious pain etching its way onto his face.

"I'll be just fine..."

He trailed off, realizing he didn't even know his saviors name.

She just giggled, sending him a grin of her own, and if Jungkook didn't know any better, he'd say her eyes flashed crimson , although it only lasted a split second. It easily could've been a trick of the light, or maybe even his fried brain pulling tricks on him with small hand-crafted illusions.

"Jaeeun, Sister Jaeeun,"

Jungkook nodded, thanking Jaeeun for her help. She bowed, excusing herself for her religious duties, those bibles weren't going to arrange themselves! So there stood Jungkook, slumped against the hallway wall. The mere thought of walking into that room and feeling the wrath of all the townies praying thoughts, sickened him. He was about to walk into mental suicide, and he just got back from the brink of death.

Jungkook gathered up what little courage he had, dropped his hands from where they were clutching at his ears. And with one final self-pep talk, he turned the corner, and straight into the heart of the fire.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was weird for the townies to turn towards their favorite (and only) priest-in-training, the same man who was the most awkward social butterfly because his job called for it, and get basically shunned, and given the cold shoulder. Although many chalked it up to his near-death experience, those people thought 'Jungkook should be back to normal within the next service or two.' But none of them were aware of the physical and mental changes that Jungkook underwent, changes of the magical variety.

While the other townies took offense.

Townies like Mrs. Lee.

Jungkook squeezed his eyelids shut as he continued through the mess of Sunday clothes, barely opening his eyes to try and find his way. The pressure behind his eyes was growing stronger, the presence of far too many people coexisting in his head. Jungkook was only human, he wasn't meant to possess these 'gifts'. He was teetering on the edge of insanity, only a slight nudge would send him over. No matter how much he grasped to his sane state of mind, the walls were closing in, and he wasn't going to last very long.

He was nearly to the alter, he was almost free from all these inquisitive grasps and interrogative questions. Key word being almost.

"Jeon Jungkook! You stop right there you inconsiderate brat!"

So close, he thought. Luck just hasn't been on the youngers side lately.

"Do you really think that you can just give us all the cold shoulder? We need answers, we deserve to have an explanation. Yet all you do is ignore us, just because you'll be priest one day doesn't mean you are above us Jeon,"

Even though Mrs. Lee's voice was only slightly raised, to Jungkook is sounded like someone was banging against the church bells, right beside him. No, it was as if he was inside the church bells as they get whacked repeatedly with the afternoons arrival.

Jungkook swayed a little on his feet, using all his energy to stay away from the edge. He didn't know the difference between the whispers of the townsfolk, or the hushed chorus of voices in his head. They all blended together, forming the perfect torture, the slowest descent into madness.

Jungkook couldn't even form a sentence, his energy sapped away. He was shocked he was still standing, especially since he felt so dizzy.

"Don't you think he has a 'right' to a personal life? I can't imagine you want everyone to know what you're doing 24/7, how you feel round the clock. What you were doing last night at the Choi household, with the recently turned widower Mr. Choi. Have you gotten bored Mrs. Lee? The last name Lee getting a bit too old and worn for you?"

Suddenly all the attention in the room shifted to the tall, slender, woman with long coffee brown curls. Her eyes seemed to be a shade of crimson-brown, her face showed feigned innocence. 

She looked nonchalantly at her claw like nails, filed to a point. Her mere presence was intimidating, it was as if she had an aura of power, even as she clung onto the giant beside her. The quiet amazon looked down with emotionless eyes at Mrs. Lee, nothing betraying what he really felt. Jungkook vaguely remembered him as Chanyeol, the baker's son, older than him if he remembers correctly.

"What did you just say to me?"

The unfamiliar lady cocked her hip out to the side as she shifted her weight onto one leg, tapping her slender finger against her chin.

"I believe I just said that you cheated on your husband, with a dead woman's spouse. Or did I speak too fast for you to understand?"

She cocked her head to the side, meeting Mrs. Lee's intense glare. The petite old lady has never looked more murderous, as the town gossiper she wasn't used to her secrets being so easily exploited.

"And who might you be,"

Mrs. Lee's tone was venomous, several townies around her taking steps back. Albeit, the mystery lady didn't look the least bit concerned. In fact, the lady looked down at her in what looked like pity. 

"I'm Byun Sohyun," she stuck out her slender hand, skin completely unblemished. "I'm Chanyeol's loyal partner, something you wouldn't know anything about,"

Hushed whispers resounded throughout the chapel, everyone turning to Mrs. Lee, waiting for her response to such an accusation.

Jungkook was fading in and out of consciousness, the voices were starting to quiet and he didn't know if that was a good, or bad sign.

Jungkook tried to follow the conversation at hand, but even the simple task of keeping his eyes open was difficult. There were muffled yells, thoughts from all around the room going haywire. Yet, all Jungkook could do was struggle to stand.

He focused all his energy on focusing on Sohyun, squinting his drooping eyelids at the oddly familiar presence.

In his delusional state, he committed her facial structure to his memory as best he could. Trying to remove the smudged edges, and piece the puzzle together. In the end, he just got frustrated. Frustrated at his new-found powers, at his weakened state, at all the things that were going wrong. At all the multicolored eyes that were starting to blend together in his muddled brain, and at the world for cursing him with bad luck.

While everyone was so caught up in the pissing competition between Sohyun and Mrs. Lee, Jungkook felt the world slowly dim around him.

Everything felt fuzzy, Jungkook felt pinpricks and needles all over his skin. He knocked his head back, swaying as he had trouble swallowing his own saliva.

Jungkook gave one final look toward Sohyun, when it clicked. He didn't know if it was his own disarrayed brain, or maybe it actually happened and only he caught it, but it all happened in slow motion. Her eyes that were originally a soft crimson-brown, slowly morphed into bright, glowing, garnet eyes. The same ones from his original death day, the ones he saw before going under a few days ago.

Did she save me?

The chorus of muffled voices gave way for gentle waves of warmth, the saliva stuck in his throat spilling over as he let out a gurgled choke. The warmth invited him, pulling him under, so far down that not even the voices couldn't reach their slimy outstretched hands towards him. A heat centered in his chest branching out to the rest of his being. Jungkook was too gone to realize that that 'warmth', was actually his lungs burning from oxygen deprivation.

His own gurgled chokes fell upon deaf ears, even Jungkooks body giving up on him. All his energy left him, leaving behind a lethargic honey that sapped him in place. Jungkook finally folded, succumbing to the now, silenced voices. The outside world becoming nothing but a passing blur. A black blanket draping over his vision, the floor slamming into his body. The pain slithered away, everything dulled under the anesthetizing swathe. His brain frying, his nerves short-circuiting.

Although, all Jungkook cared about was his new-found silence. His own sanctuary.

(A/N: I want y'all to know, I have to get up early in the morning but I spent approximately 40 minutes editing this. It's almost 1 am and I'm beat. Anyways, I hope y'all have a wonderful day *insert hearts here*)