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“Shit!” Jimin hissed as he raced through the rocky terrain of the abandoned mines. Adrenaline pumped hard, making him nimble and quick-minded as he jumped over the gaps of the broken bridge. He stuttered a landing, however, dropping his flare into the murky water below.
Another screech echoed behind him, followed by a lithe thump on the bridge. Without taking even a nanosecond to look behind him, Jimin regained his balance and sprinted to the edge of a tunnel just ahead.
These things were quick. Even with gnarled limbs, muscle-wasted bodies, and battered, cold-rotted features, they were quick.
“Fucking shit!” Jimin yelled now, absolutely freaked out. His hands shook as he dug into the bag for another flare. When he twisted it on, he pushed forward.
Screech.
It was further way than it had been before, but not far enough. Jimin sped up, keeping his steps light and soft.
He rounded a corner and came upon a tunnel narrower than the last. With few options, he hurriedly followed it, lifting his flare for guidance.
He tried not to jump at all sounds heard during his trek, but the wailing echoes reverberated throughout every crevice and every wall in the caves. As the path widened to a large cavern, it became harder to tell where the noises came from.
Jimin crept to the opposite end, keeping his panting as soft as possible. There was really nowhere else to go. He refused to turn back; he was pretty sure wendigos would be waiting for him.
He raised the flare above his head and scowled with irritation as his eyes and the light followed the rocks stacked in front of him. His only option was to climb up.
“Damn it,” he muttered, though he was grateful that at least it wasn’t terribly high. It was low enough for Jimin to wind up and hurl his flare to the ledge above. He had to make sure that nothing waited for him up there.
Satisfied by the lonely little clatter of the flare hitting rock with no repercussions, Jimin adjusted his bag more securely against his back, then stepped up onto the first rock while grabbing another above him with his hand.
Like the gym, he told himself. He needed every and any sort of encouragement to get through.
About two-thirds of the way, he spotted a part of a rusted ladder that led the rest of the way up. It was a little higher, but much more convenient than taking the time to climb around the long way.
With as much leg strength as he could muster, he jumped up, his fingers catching the bottom rung.
“Ah, god,” Jimin grunted in strained relief. Good thing he never missed his arm or leg days.
Using some nearby rocks as leverage, he readjusted and finished the climb up the ladder.
The tunnel ahead of him was ominous, dark, and wide. Jimin tried not to think about what could be waiting there as he grabbed his flare off the ground. He got this far; he could brave anything by now.
Fortunately, he did not come upon much other than more rusty iron and wooden mining structures and steel barrels. The screams of the wendigos prevented any complete quiet or peace, but they sounded far enough for Jimin to feel a bit at ease.
But perhaps he spoke too soon.
Suddenly, he felt something wrap over his chest—an arm, followed by a hand clamping over his mouth. Jimin had no time to retaliate or scream as he got pulled in through a gap between rocks and a wooden partition, dropping the flare in the process.
His back hit a cool, broad, distinctively human chest.
“Shh, hyung, it’s okay,” a voice whispered, his breath gently blowing into his hair.
Jungkookie.
As soon as his dongsaeng and lover loosened his grip, Jimin turned and lifted his gaze to him. He needed to make sure.
Jungkook was a little torn up, with dirt on his face and clothing, new rips in his jeans and jacket, and a wide gash on his cheek. But he was alive and reasonably sound.
“Oh, Kookie,” he sighed, his heart swelling with relief. He collapsed into him, arms sliding desperately around his waist. He buried his eyes into his shoulder. “Kookie, Kookie, Kookie…”
It felt like ages since he last saw him. They had separated hours earlier, forced to split up after the radio tower they were standing on fell over and through a random opening into the mines.
With all that had happened, a morbid, but realistic, part of Jimin thought he would be dead by now.
Jungkook wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Jiminnie-hyung,” he murmured into the side of his head, lips brushing against him in a soft kiss. Jimin could feel tears wet his hair and used a hand to soothingly stroke his back.
Their moment was soon interrupted when a shrill screech tore through their hearing.
They both tensed.
Too close.
“Don’t move,” Jungkook whispered urgently, pulling Jimin tight against him, stilling both their shivers. “Their blind eyes can still sense movement. So stay. Still.”
Keeping his face burrowed, Jimin closed his eyes. He concentrated on breathing as evenly and quietly as possible. He felt Jungkook hold his breath. He must be afraid that even a change in the air would trigger the creature’s senses.
Jimin heard quick scurries along the tunnel ground and walls as the long-limbed, bony monster ran and leaped through like some giant twisted squirrel. It was noisy in its movements, at least. He didn’t want to imagine it being that fast and agile while silent.
Then again, it was silent now, wasn’t it?
The wendigo must have stopped where it was in order to listen with its sensitive ears and watch with its milky gaze. Its raggedy, hungered breathing was Jimin’s only indication of its closeness.
He felt Jungkook’s heart quicken to a hammering pound. He was Jimin’s eyes right now, and he could only wonder how horrified his poor Jungkook was, watching a monster search for them; listening, seeing but not seeing, right there.
A throat-scratching roar filled the gap they stood in, loud and ringing in Jimin’s ears. The wendigo must be inches from away. He could even smell its breath—a mixture of rotting flesh and deep-rooted earth.
He pressed his lips together and tried not to gag.
There was a shuffle, a soft shift of pebbles winded by movement, then a series of patter-patters. The irritated growls distanced, and after another long few minutes of stillness, Jimin felt Jungkook’s form relax.
“Okay,” Jungkook breathed, slowly releasing Jimin. “It’s gone, hyung.”
Jimin sighed and leaned against the partition to take a few slow, deep breaths to calm his heart. Jungkook followed suit.
The didn’t have time to rest that long, though. Jimin grabbed Jungkook’s hand. “Jungkook, we have to keep moving.”
He led him out of their hiding spot and back to the path. Jimin was sure that they were above the ground now; they just needed to find away out of the mine itself.
Jungkook picked up the previously abandoned flare and lit the way.
A shrill, hungry cry echoed again, coming from behind. Jimin’s hair stood on end. Panic rose in his throat.
Another one.
“Run,” Jungkook spoke up in alarm.
Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. Their hands held together tightly, they sprinted through the tunnels.
And then he felt Jungkook suddenly pull out of his grasp.
“Jungkook!” Jimin gasped. Fear squeezing his heart, he whirled around, ready to do whatever it took to save him.
But Jungkook was good at thinking on the spot, too. He had let go of Jimin in order to topple over a nearby metal oil barrel, spilling out its flammable fluid.
Beyond him, where the two of them had just come from, were three wendigos giving chase.
“Oh, my god,” Jimin couldn’t help but mutter, momentarily frozen in fear. It was the first time he had seen so many at once.
Jungkook grabbed his hand again and dragged him away. As he did, he twisted around to look behind him, only to glance at his target as he threw the flare into the liquid.
Jimin turned to look, too, in time to see the closest wendigo leap at them. Its maw opened wide to reveal long, sharp, jagged teeth. Putrid and way too damn close.
We aren’t going to make it, he thought with dread.
The flames flared. And there must have been something else near the oil barrels, because an explosion sent Jimin and Jungkook flying. They landed painfully several feet away, but it seemed that nothing broke or burned.
Jimin shifted to a sitting position, eyes wide as he spotted the charred, motionless bodies of their pursuers.
They were safe.
Jungkook stood up first, and then quickly came over to Jimin to help him.
“Sorry,” Jungkook told him breathlessly, his hands resting at Jimin’s elbows. “I needed to—”
“No, no,” Jimin insisted. He reached up and rubbed Jungkook’s shoulders with reassurance. “You did good, Jungkook-ah.”
“Do you have anymore flares?”
Jimin reached into his bag. Empty. “Fuck damn it.”
“So, that’s a no.”
Jimin removed the bag and tossed it nearby. He wanted to travel as light as possible. It didn’t belong to him to begin with, anyway.
“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not terribly dark. We’ll probably find a lantern or something.”
Their journey turned relatively peaceful. The sounds of the wendigos grew more sparse, and Jimin was sure they were making headway in getting out of the mines.
And they did find a lantern. It had been sitting on a moldy wooden table along the way. Jungkook, conveniently, had a lighter on him; from an earlier part of his travels, Jimin guessed.
They were treading on a narrower section of the path when growls and hisses met their ears again.
This time, coming from where they were supposed to be going.
“Shit,” Jungkook sputtered, eyes fixed as a wendigo turned along the curve of the path.
Now what?
Jimin took short glances at their surroundings, from the wendigo racing towards them, to the area where they had just come from—probably still afire, and then to a wooden makeshift wall on their right.
He let go of Jungkook’s hand.
“Hyung?!”
All or nothing.
Jimin rammed his shoulder into the wall. It broke away easily to his strength, revealing sky and snow. The force of his effort tore him through the opening. In his momentum, Jimin nearly toppled over the short cliff just beyond, but Jungkook’s arm hooked around his chest, pulling him back into him.
Screech.
Jimin spotted a viable standing area to the left of the opening he made, against the side of the mountain. He slid out of Jungkook’s grip and quickly shimmied over to it. “Here. Hide.”
Jungkook barely made it to his side as the rampaging monster arrived, its shrill cries next to their ears.
Out of their peripheral, they saw the wendigo’s head jut out of the opening, head panning slowly in its search.
Both Jungkook and Jimin stilled.
The moment felt excruciatingly long; Jungkook could have told him it lasted days and Jimin would have believed him.
But the wendigo finally, finally gave up, darting back inside and running off to god-knows-where.
“Holy shit,” whispered Jungkook, relaxing against the rock and heaving a sigh of relief.
Jimin took a moment to look at their scenery, at the distant snow-covered peaks and trees. The snowstorm from the night before had subsided, and the sky was starting to brighten into day. The emerging daylight meant the slumber of the monsters they left behind.
And dawn means rescue, Jimin thought, remembering that the park ranger they had contacted at the tower promised help by morning.
Jungkook reached for his hand and threaded his fingers through his.
Dawn means Jungkookie is alive. He and I made it. He was sort of in disbelief about this. They were incredibly lucky.
“Let’s go,” Jungkook said softly, gesturing to the downward mountain path near them.
Together, the two went down the route to safety, following the sounds of helicoptor blades in the distance.