The sound of pen scratching on paper was all that could be heard. The handwriting moved over the page as if the blank ink were infused with champagne, the air and perfume inviting words of such beautiful perception. The script as such wasn't ravishing or bewitching in any manner. The letters sloped in directions that were so much at odds with each other, they almost clashed against.

The black ink tainted the ragged surface of the handmade paper, the tough sheets not budging even with the pressure he exerted with the base of his palm. He clicked his tongue, as he inscribed the last few dots of his script, finally closing the book.

'It had been white, however, a slight blue coated its edges...' That was what his final sentence had been.

"Hmm," he groaned, stretching himself, to relive himself of the stress. "It's so bright today," he said, talking to himself.

A smile crept upon his face. There were so many ways he smiled, but only a few were told with his lips. There were times he smiled with the lilt of his voice, or an unexpected bounce in his stride. There were times he smiled with his choice of words. And most importantly, there were times when he'd smiled through agony, tears streaming down his eyes, relentlessly. But this one had been... Genuine; trivial.

But just as he looked outside the window, he witnessed the light streaming in through the only window he had. In the dappled light, he saw the golden rays dripping on his skin.

The glass only acted as a barricade, preventing him from exploring the outside world. For he thought it would be pernicious. But it had been oh-so magnificent to prevent him from daydreaming about it. He watched the fresh green foliage outside, in the forest. And upon the forest floor so woven with ancient tree roots came a light filtered by the bouquet of foliage above: softened, verdant and freshly aromatic.

"Azrail?"

The voice broke him out of the trance, the dream he'd set for himself.

"I'm sorry, you've got the wrong person," he stated, a small genuine shrug playing at his shoulders.

Tearing his eyes away from the woman who'd distracted him, he looked outside the window. Her features remained ingrained in her mind, like he'd seen her somewhere. But he just couldn't hypothesize where. Her eyes were the shade of acorns, just bright enough to shine in the shadows. There had always been an honest smile on her damask lips.

"What's your name, then?" she asked, cocking her head.

He turned his head once more, to answer her. "I'm Taehong. Wan Taehong. Why?"

Her attire had flummoxed him. She possessed a outré and bizzare sense of style. Her body had been shrouded with the most ill-fitting blue shirt and pants. Her hand held a writing pad, a brown color that didn't go well with the blue she'd worn.

"Alright, Taehong," she muttered, her voice sweet with the smile she'd worn. "Follow me, please."

No questions were asked. His brain seemed to trust the woman he'd seen before himself. "The forest outside is so pretty, isn't it? I haven't seen anything like it."

"Huh? What forest?" the woman asked, her legs ceasing to move as she twirled around.

"That one. Outside the window, you see?" he stated, his voice going up a tone.

"O-oh, oh. Yeah. It's pretty." Her smile hadn't been genuine that time, it had been... Awkward. Like she'd said that to agree with him, just for the sake of it. And it made him cross.

His eyes shot up with anger burning through him. Shocks of rabid rampage shot across his blood, making the corners of his vision turn red. "Why that smile? Don't you see it?" he said, his voice rigid and appalling.

He couldn't swallow the fire-seeds of his temper, the ones that had been popping within him trying to set him ablaze. "You really don't see it, do you?" he chuckled looking at the woman with wide eyes.

His laugh that accompanied the wide-eyed expression could shove the life out of a person seeing him for the first time. The woman, however, just had her brown orbs trembling back and forth, as she took hesitant steps back.

Another woman with the same peculiar sense of style walked down the same hallway that they'd been in. The immaculate white walls seemed to close in on him as his vision narrowed to a tray the other woman had been holding. Without sparing any other thoughts, he let his hand wander off into the tray, the cold metal welcoming his fingertips.

Something sharp slid across his palm and that had been the first thing he yielded. "How can you not see that beautiful thing outside!" he screamed, the sharp metal in his hand glinting in the sunlight outside.

The woman who'd come bearing the tray, let the metal slip out of her hands, her breath held in. The sound of the metal clanging rang back and forth, bouncing off his ear-drums, enraging him further.

He let out a roar of vexation, the metal blade cutting across the woman's shoulder. He'd planned to aim for the neck. But his arm had become wobbly, blinding him due to the rage. People who couldn't procure a sense to realize the beauty of nature did not deserve to live.

She let out a yelp, a scream almost as she shouted, "Nurse! Help!"

The words felt foreign to him. The blade in his hand going in for another scar that he could leave on her perfectly smooth and dark skin. Even if he wouldn't be able to admire the scars he'd given right away.

He watched a trail of blood drip down the skin that had been cut open. But the blood wasn't much in contrast to the color of her skin. In his eyes, that had been another beauty. Another aesthetically pleasing sight he'd be happy to see all over again. The slow drip of blood down her arms, and the small whimpers she let out...

Before he could swing his arm again, his dominant hand had been pulled flush against his back, a piercing agony like that of an ant-bite inflicting pain. "Ugh," he retaliated, trying to shove his shoulders away. But the force constricting him had been far too forceful for him to have escaped.

His eyelids seemed heavy, his defense felt weaker. "Fores?" he whispered, his orbs looking into the distance. He saw the final snippet of it. The final snippet of his grandmother, of his sister.

The grandmother had held the wicked smile. The only smile she knew how to put on as she shoved his sister's body onto the floor. The lifeless, limp form fell against the grassy ground, tumbling into a hole that had been dug, already.

He didn't know how those two appeared out of the blue. One... A wishful waking dream. And the other... A perfectly pernicious nightmare.

"No. Fores, no," was the last thing he could comprehend, before his eyelids fell shut. The whole world shut down before his eyes. The abyss was what he descended into. It wrapped around him and gave him the comfort like a warm fuzzy blanket during the winters.

----------

"Are you alright, Calla?" a doctor asked, his eyes falling upon the blood that had tainted her blue outfit. The wound had been well-sealed, yet the blood that blemished her crisp uniform had been... Miserable to even look at. Especially even if she'd endured the toughest of situations.

"Azrail was just having an episode. The one he usually has when he's Taehong." The woman, Calla, just smiled. "I'm used to it, but this the most violent he's been, doctor."

"Right," the doctor hummed in approval. "What had been the reason?"

"He saw a forest outside his window, he said. And wanted me to agree upon it." In a softer but defeated tone, she continued, "But I couldn't make up a convincing front to support his hallucinations."

"There's no reason to dwell on that, right now. He needs to be cured. Let's get on with what we've come here for, shall we?"

"Yes, doctor."

"The starvation really gets to him... It's always during this period that Taehong comes out," the doctor remarked, realization hitting him. But there was nothing to be done.

Two electrodes touched the skin of his forehead, and another one right behind the sensitive part of his ear. A mucilaginous gel separated his skin from the electrodes. And that was when it began.

A shot of electricity passed through him, his head starting to convulse first along with the rest of him. His legs shivered uncontrollably; the shock being passed through him temporarily rendering him helpless.

----------

"For Taehyung and Azrail are one. Each one a drastic variation of the other."

- Katopark

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