Archive of Our Own

“Do you have a name, lovely?”

The shadow inquired, making his way slowly to the fireplace at the end of the room. A gentle blow on the consumed pieces of woods immediately lightened a fire, finally revealing the details around them. An old rocking chair was right at its side, in a deep burgundy color. The man calmly took a place on it, folding his right leg over his left whilst looking at him.

“If not, sweetheart it is.”

Jongho shuddered. If that was even possible in the first place though, as his tremors hadn’t stopped one second ever since the darkness had abducted him.

“This must be a mistake.”

He muttered, still sitting on the floor with his hands shielding his eyes. His heart was almost jumping out of his chest by the quickness of his pulse. Cold shivers were running on his back. Jongho almost felt himself suffocate.

The boogeyman regarded him with interest for a long bit, then, he smirked.

“Sweetheart it is, then.”

Jongho huddled the coat he was wearing, almost making himself smaller in the place he was sitting on.

The row of pines out of the window seemed endless, the sky already turning an indigo hue. A pair of small snowflakes had even started to fall. It was cold, and it would probably turn even colder the moment the night fell, though he hoped to be out of danger as of then. Truthfully, it that was more of a ‘must’ than a simple happy prospect.

Jongho shuddered the longer he looked outside. His whole body was tense and alert to anything that could look or sound out of place. His leg were ready to run at the first sign that he had been discovered. It was no surprise that every wobble of the double-decker he had taken in hurry made him glance right to left in anxiety.

None of those had revealed themselves to be treats, luckily. The seats were simply occupied by beings he didn’t want to look too much at, like that thing that looked like a crossover in between a black widow and a bug three seats away. The semitransparent shadow right in front of him was far less frightening in comparison.

Jongho knew that the mere efforts of a human were completely useless if the darkness had really caught up to him. The hope in his heart was far stronger now that he had actually achieved in escaping, though. He was almost there, he liked to remind himself. The most pressing matter was to find a red door before the night fell.

Returning home was out of discussion, after all.

Darkness could reach places where magic was present in a blink of an eye, and even more easily the limbo he found himself in. His only hope was to find one of those doors that would take him to a place with no magic. It was rare for them to appear, but not impossible. Actually, it was so in the city, but this place he found himself in was a whole other story entirely.

Not that he cared about a well conceited plan when his sudden flight had been out of utter desperation in the first place. And a huge fluke, too.  Still, Jongho had predictably caught the chance like a madman, no matter the frightening possibility of what could possibly happen to him were the darkness to catch up.

It could have his organs, for all he cared. But before that, he had to take the leap. Even when those doors appeared once in a blue moon.

In the city, there was no one who didn’t know about the bogeyman.

More specifically, even with all the magic flowing in the walls of each single house, there was no one who didn’t fear the abomination. Justifiably so, as the spawn of the devil came to abduct people and left nothing – not even bones – of them, if not streaks of dark ash and a black gooey substance all over the place of interest. Which, creepily enough, wouldn’t come away with anything known to humanity, and was the reason the houses of taken people had to be eventually burnt down.

The bogeyman was certainly not a mere legend to scare children, and that much was clear. There wasn’t a single citizen who hadn’t seen the sign of his passage at least once in their life: a neighbor, a poor child not that far, sometimes even a coworker. Word spread fast when the darkness came to take someone.

So no, the creature certainly wasn’t a mere tattler, but, as Jongho’s mother would say:

“A sort of natural catastrophe, like a hurricane or a tornado.”

Something that one needed to protect himself from, basically.

As such, a thing that actually worked as a shelter from the darkness actually existed, and it was in the shape of a candle. Somehow it was comical, Jongho would often think: even this catastrophic kind of darkness needed a source of light to be dispelled.

Either way it had been a blessing, because the candle actually did work – more like the magic flame did. And as long as it was lit up, the person who’s the candle belonged to would be shielded by the bogeyman. Trouble came when the flame died. In that case, it could be revived by a candle of the same kind only, as no common flame was enough to light it up again.

As such, people usually lived in pairs or groups to prevent that occurrence from happening.

Jongho stepped down the two stairs, silently observing as the double decker took off after him. The shadow person who had been sitting right in front of him had dropped off at the same stop, and the human had taken notice of how tall it actually was with horror. Nevertheless, the monstrosity didn’t seem interested in him in the least, and after a bow of its head in his direction, had started walking the other way. A work suitcase was in its hand, and it wobbled with every step of its long legs.

Jongho had found himself releasing a breath of relief at its departure.

He wasn’t really aware of how much time he had spent on the double decker; he reckoned it must’ve been quite a bit as they had gone through at least seven stops, and even more snow was falling now, the air getting colder by the moment. Jongho kind of was more screwed the more the escape attempt went on, because ever since his abduction he had been in his pajama – of course the bogeyman didn’t really have a change of clothes in the place he lived in – and his feet were only covered in his cozy slippers, hence the way he was trembling furiously at every whiff of the wind. He had stolen one of the long cashmere black coats the bogeyman kept at the entrance – the only pieces of clothing in the house, not that he thought about it – but obviously it wasn’t quite enough when it was literally snowing outside.

With such presuppositions, the best choice would’ve been to stay in the double decker, but night was getting closer and closer, and Jongho was on his part getting desperate. He highly doubted he could spot a red door from a moving vehicle too, hence the way he had instead ventured in the small beaten path in between the pines instead, getting inside the forest.

Based on what he knew on those red doors apart from the fact that they were rare, it was that they usually appeared in pretty isolated spots. At times, they even appeared over trees. Jongho huddled himself even more in the coat, his breath forming small clouds as he walked with determination, stubbornly ignoring the creeps he got from the dark parts of the forest.

Jongho screeched, his whole body trembling. Desperate, he scrambled on the floor, sitting and curling up with his knees close to his chest, trembling. His chest felt tight, his racing heart slamming behind it like it wanted to get out somehow. Distant, he heard the sound of steps. Jongho cupped his eyes, the darkness surrounding him making chills cover his back.

“Interesting.”

The velvety voice inquired, and the human curled up even more on himself. Everything around him felt warped, the shadow seemingly closer one moment, and then far the other. His stomach burnt, and he opened his mouth to try and take a big breathing since he felt like air was sternly avoiding his lungs. Why was that happening to him of all people? Jongho wanted to do something, anything, but his body seemed glued in place, still and yet full to the brink of energy.

The steps halted right as he almost chocked, his breathing ragged the more the room stayed pitch black. Then a sound reached his ears: the rustling of fabric. The darkness was now so close Jongho could feel his warmth, the shadow probably having kneeled by his side to observe his reaction closely.

On instinct, Jongho hence moved slightly farther, almost tripping with the way his body trembled from head to toe. He was probably looking quite pathetic to the monster, and the entertained scoff that he in fact released made his fury spark back, though he couldn’t really indulge in it when he was having a full on panic attack. Instead, Jongho simply crawled backwards until he finally touched something firm and cool – a wall, his mind provided – and found support there, eyes open but not seeing anything with the darkness all around him.

It didn’t last much more, thankfully, but simply because the bogeyman had decided so, perhaps satisfied enough of proving his suspects. A blow on the wood piled in the fireplace immediately lit the room again. Jongho’s breathing started calming down as his eyes adjusted to the light, but he felt dizzy and lightheaded from his prior attack.

“Not a mere childish fear.”

The shadow provided, looking at him calmly. Jongho had found that the bogeyman was more of a man than a monster, short black hair and round eyes that always seemed entertained.

“So then a phobia?”

He continued, cocking his head slightly to the side with an interested expression. Jongho stared at him firmly, hoping his eyes were at least a bit threatening. With the way his body was still slightly shaking, his chest heaving with each shaky breath he was taking he doubted he looked menacing in the least. Probably more like a startled cub.

For a fact, the shadow’s lips were fast to curl into a smile.

“Poor baby.”

He cooed.

“You really are unfortunate.”

Jongho couldn’t find it in himself to rebut.

The snow was getting stronger now, white dots dancing in the hair and setting on his red hair, but luckily not as much to cover the path he had chosen to travel. The wind was unforgiving however, cutting through the layer of his plush pajama and his kidnapper’s coat as he proceeded. His head was already throbbing with the beginning of a sinusitis, his nose wet and making him sniffle.

Jongho looked right and left, the hope in his heart dying little by little every time no flash of red was spotted.

He didn’t know whether he preferred dying of cold or being dragged again in the dark, at that point. Though the latter seemed more likely, as the sky was getting darker and darker and that only meant that his freedom was getting shorter and shorter.

It got worse when Jongho’s pride cracked. Predictably so, he would’ve argued.

He couldn’t do much about it anyway: it was nyctophobia and it was raw fear. One that quite literally made him panic, every care to show a hard façade being thrown quickly out of the window every time the fire had died out. It had been like that ever since he was a kid, and no amount of years had made the phobia go away.

Not that he hadn’t tried acting like a tough boy. But when the bogeyman found that he could make him cry if he left the fireplace go extinct, he’d just do that until Jongho broke down like a baby. Just because he found it extremely interesting. Perhaps even amusing.

It wasn’t so strange that something that wicked found pleasure in his distress, honestly.

Not even sure how much had passed ever since he had been dragged there, Jongho knew that he had already cried at least a handful of times when he had first passed out from exhaustion. To wake up in cold sweat not exactly much later, the same bogeyman staring down at him from his rocking chair, the fire again on. Jongho had almost jolted away as he had noticed him, scrambling on the rug under him and finding his own legs tangled in a heavy burgundy blanket. Where did that come from, he had no clue.

Not that the thing looked any fazed by it all anyway.

From then on, the soothing sound of the rocking chair moving by the action of the pivoted heels of the shadow’s shoes on the rug was the only sound for a bit. The human didn’t dare raise his eyes to the other again – although he felt his interested stare on him – instead focusing to his surroundings: the lit fireplace at his left, the rug under him, the heavy burgundy blanket that covered his body from his hips down. Weren’t for the monster right in front of him or the cold sweating at his back and the dried tears on his cheek, the atmosphere would’ve been cozy. The fact that most of the room was still in the dark made it almost impossible for his pulse to go back to normal too.

Was there a way to escape the place without him noticing? Jongho stared all the way to the deep end of the room, where he reckoned he had seen a door, and sure enough, there it was. Fact was that he hadn’t seen it open even once yet, so who knew what exactly was behind that. It could be a deep hole, for all that he knew.

Was it wise to sprint all the way there now? Not certainly when the monster was still staring at him like he was a sort of bizarrely colored parrot in a golden cage. But if another candle was blown, he certainly would need to leave the room.

Speaking of candles though, why was he even alive in the first place? Jongho’s mind suddenly got stuck on that thought, making his breath hitch. His eyes instinctively found their way to the closed door again.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

The shadow finally talked – his inquire accompanied with a smirk – probably having noticed the way his stare was traveling back and forth toward the only way to escape the enclosed space.

“You can’t even stand walking anywhere far from this fireplace.”

He continued, sounding very reasonable. And not that he was wrong, too. Jongho swallowed, dropping his eyes on the rug under him.

“Sir.”

He begun, ready to ask the question weighting on his tongue, but was soon interrupted by the other’s soft chuckle. A sound that would be alluring, if not for the mouth which produced it being none other than the monster’s.

“Sir? That’s lovely.”

He inquired, the rocking of the chair continuing.

“I do have a name, though.”

Jongho shrank on himself even more at that, scared that he had somehow offended the shadow. Who knew what could happen if he irked him up, after all. Swallowing again, he continued with his sweet façade:

“What’s your name then, sir?”

He inquired, still not meeting his eyes though. The monster halted the rocking of his chair at it, but didn’t make any move to answer to him. Jongho couldn’t help but be scared at the silence, as it usually held in itself a big variety of things: was it anger or was it simple contemplation? One could never know. Hands trembling already, he instead pulled the heavy blanket until it reached his own shoulders, huddling himself in it.

The monster made a sort of humming noise.

“I suppose you do not care about saying my name in the city.”

He inquired, slowly rising from his place. Jongho almost flinched away when he realized how gigantic he looked. And on instinct, he tried soothing what he believed was the other’s disappointment:

“We don’t know what you’re called.”

He apologetically pushed out, but it sounded pretty weak. Not that he wasn’t telling the truth though: no one knew that the bogeyman had a name in the first place. They didn’t even know he looked so human too, as every depiction of it in books was of a very tall shadow with long limbs. The monster standing in front of him though, he instead wore the face of a handsome man.

But who knew if it was a simple façade. The sole thought brought a shiver down the human’s back.

“Interesting.”

The monster answered, and Jongho finally met his stare. His eyes had that spark of entertainment in them that made him want to run for his life.

At some point, Jongho had started wishing he had planned his escape more thoroughly. Arguably, the perspective of freezing to death wasn’t any better than dying because of the bogeyman when you were walking in the snow with a simple pair of slippers to cover your feet. The interior of the fancy shoe was still coated in fluffy fur, sure, but people didn’t venture in between the mountains with specific gear for nothing.

Be damned his habit of not wearing any socks while sleeping too, as now the hem of his pajama pants was wet and his ankles were undoubtedly cold. As everything else, really. Jongho was hiding his hands under his armpits as he walked with his head slightly bent down, but a quick look at them had been enough to notice the reddening beginning of frostbites. And no sign of a red door yet.

Desperation was mixing in his gut with annoyance at that point.

The boogeyman had little to do when the candles didn’t get extinguished, it seemed.

Jongho was sure he had been there for almost an entire day already, but during all that the monster had simply occupied his time in studying him with his stare. He seemed almost fascinated, as if he had never seen a human in his entire life. Which was pretty laughable when one remembered that this thing slaughtered at least one person every night back in the city.

Jongho had no clue what the hell was so interesting in him – if it was his nyctophobia or the mere fact that the shadow was bored to death – but he dreaded the day his spark wouldn’t be so captivating to the boogeyman anymore.

Either way, it was clear that he had to get away soon.

But that wasn’t quite easy. That monster was basically making a hole in his skull with the intensity he was looking him with, and hadn’t he seen blink a couple of times, the human would be scared triple.

Certainly the door was inviting. But sprinting all the way there while the shadow was staring straight at him wasn’t the best of ideas, especially since recalling the way he had been dragged away from his own bedroom made shivers drop down his spine. The gooey black substance he left on the walls of his victims was a sort of handprint from the shadows that prolonged from his feet, capturing onto everything they could. Jongho had residues of that black thing on parts of his pajama, ankles and wrists too, a reminder of their vice.

If he were to try that escape with all the monster’s attention on him, the shadows would reach him in no time, dragging him at his feet yet again. And then who knew what would happen. Was irking him up worth it? Not that much to him at the time.

The fire hadn’t gone out in a while, too.

So, Jongho spooned that little courage he had left in himself to try and ask questions instead. Maybe while still trying to look inoffensive and sickly sweet, however reminding himself to immediately halt if he noticed that something had irked the shadow up.

“Sir.”

He begun again, noticing the way one of his eyebrows had quirked up at it. Though Jongho tried not to think that was a bad sign, instead moving on:

“Where are we?”

He decided to start with a much simpler question, as he reckoned a ‘why am I still alive?’ could give him ideas. And somehow, the way the shadow hummed in interest at the question made some confidence burst in his chest. His answer, though, it was of no help.

“My home.”

Jongho tried not to show neither his disappointment nor his irritation, as he felt like he was being teased. So, instead playing his game, he simply nodded, scrambling in his mind for another ‘normal’ question to ask. Though:

“Where is your home?”

He instead let slip on his tongue, not really controlling his cockiness for a moment.

His fear that he had fucked up only lasted one moment, as the shadow instead scoffed, an entertained smirk forming on his lips. With a gesture of his right hand – he had a ring on his index, the human noticed – the monster simply answered with a:

“Here.”

Which made Jongho himself scoff, though he hid it promptly in clearing his throat. Nodding again whilst huddling the sheets closer, he had to think about what he could question at that point. According to the spark in the shadow’s eyes, he didn’t dislike the questioning as much as he thought he would, so perhaps it was safe to take the inquiry a step further this time.

“Are there –“

He started, swallowing the lump setting in his throat. The monster simply raised one eyebrow at it.

“Are there any other guests here?”

Something that apparently made the other even more entertained. At least, that was what the chuckle escaping from his lips testified to.

“No, sweetheart. There’s only you and me.”

And why am I still here? Jongho had swallowed the question back.

“Are there going to be?”

He instead inquired, dancing around the topic of himself being still strangely alive.

“Are you feeling lonely already?

The monster blinked slowly, his smirk anything but soothing.

“Will you get on a search for friends when I’m not here? Not cute, sweetheart.”

Jongho courageously didn’t shake his head it, instead staring back at him with determination. Perhaps not the best of his choices, though. The shadow didn’t even flinch, cocking his head to the side slightly. Then, without even a breathing from his part, the room got filled in darkness.

Jongho had wanted to curse – the entirely gargled sound leaving his lips wasn’t even remotely close.

But what he did was instead scramble on the floor for some form of stability, still huddled in the cover as best as he could. Hands reaching in front of him, the shaky human basically found support in the shadow’s legs, not even flinching away in the frenzy of his fear. Jongho took advantage of the space opening in between them to lay his face on the soft dressed thigh, hugging the leg so tightly any human would’ve yelped away. But this wasn’t a human they were talking about, after all. Though the limb he was finding comfort in hugging was warm like life was actually seeping through it. The monster was far from the cold inhumane deformity he was described as.

But not that Jongho cared about it at the moment.

His body was shaking so much he was having troubles in keeping himself up straight. His fingers were sinking on the silken material, his breath ragged as he had inhaled on the thigh he was supporting himself with. The monster was warm, but he indeed smelled of dust: much like the black remains of a fire. It was fitting of something who brought destruction in the way it did.

Jongho breathed deeply, eyes squeezed close as he had tried applying what his therapist had taught him to avoid crumbling again in front of his captor. Inhale and exhale. Be present even when you feel chills on your back, like a multitude of hands are creeping on it, waiting for the right moment to attack. Find familiarity in the darkness. The human tried not thinking of how the only familiar thing there was the monster that was torturing him – and from whom he was now hanging on for dear life.

Most of the times, none of those psychological things worked. Fairly enough, since even his therapist had told that his phobia was going to be tough to sweep away. It was the reason his house had an innumerable quantity of candles in all places, wax over every wooden surface, coating on books, plates and cups, almost as invading as the black dust the boogeyman left. Thinking about it, it was almost ironic how this trouble had fallen on his head, in between all of it. He was known as the candle boy back in the city because he usually brought stashes of said candles to light his rooms during night. But the darkness had taken him anyway, because it was only one of those that mattered in the end.

Jongho wholeheartedly hoped someone was laughing at his misfortune up there – he knew that down on earth, not even the person he loved was crying.

Not that he had time to think about the past when he was quite literally fighting for his life as of then though. The fire wasn’t getting back and he was cold sweating all over, his stomach churning. It wasn’t quite the time to think about red dahlias.

“Sir. Please.”

Jongho found himself in pleading, voice shaky. He was at the point of warm tears pickling at his eyes already, though he had done his best at keeping them at bay.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

It was almost impressive how fast he was to answer. Not even a single one of his past lovers had been this keen to listen to his needs.

“The fire… Please.”

Jongho had been ashamed at the broken sob that had slipped through his throat. He felt pathetic whenever his phobia took over, and it was probably the same for the monster who he was hanging on to right now. The human wished he didn’t feel the need for comfort from living things, that he hadn’t scrambled to desperately reach for him. But even when he had wanted to scroll himself off him, his body stayed in place: it was as still as a statue. Jongho didn’t feel in control of the fingers that were almost trying to rip the material of the shadow’s pants apart.

“Why, aren’t you comfortable like this?”

Said monster inquired, hand coming to gently brush at his cheek. The human had flinched away, still staying hanging on the thigh as a weight had settled in his chest. He didn’t want to be touched by this disgusting thing, but at the same time he yearned for some sort of comfort, though it came from his captor.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to rip my pants.”

The shadow hadn’t almost cared about his refusal however, cold hands coming to lay gently over his and trying to pry them off.

“Sir, please. The fireplace.”

Jongho’s grip got even tighter at the attempt however, the human’s breathing almost cut in his lungs with the way he had smashed his face on the other’s inner thigh. The dusty scent made him cough a bit, definitely making the sobs cut through no matter his best efforts at keeping them at bay. But then, like magic, the fireplace had actually lit up again, the flame however getting colored blue for a fraction of seconds.

The human had turned to stare at it, the blue sparks dancing in the air like stars.

Jongho had turned his head up to thank the shadow – because he still needed to continue with his sweet façade – not even a moment after, but the other had his stare fixed on the flame too, an edge of sadness in his eyes. Something told him that it hadn’t been the monster to do that then, and when he had finally stared at him, the confirmation had come from his lips:

“I have to work, sweetheart.”

The tone was almost sweet. Weren’t for the way he had easily pried his hands from him, and lifted him up like he weighted nothing, Jongho would’ve been keen to melt in the sweet honey of his voice. Instead, he had tried kicking as panic had surged in, those black shadows coming to stop his legs as the shadow had actually sit him on the rocking chair he had been the one to occupy before, then bending down to recover the blanket for him.

Jongho had dreadfully observed – kept still on the seat by those two dark limbs – as the tall thing had tucked him in the cover with almost the utmost care, the slight hint of amusement in his face making him shiver from head to toe.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

He even asserted, looking at him for as long as it had gotten Jongho to eventually realize that he was waiting for a confirmation that he had understood, and hence to nod at it.

The shadow smiled, but it wasn’t in the least comforting.

Walking in the snow while almost freezing to death was a cathartic experience.

It made Jongho’s mind flee to all the things he hadn’t achieved during his life, to the lover he had failed, and dreadfully, to the boogeyman who had hold him captive. The monster had a name, actually. He had told him that time he had revealed that no one knew it, but the human had been scared to pronounce it. As if the sole action of letting the short name roll on his tongue would’ve sealed his destiny forever.

Jongho had never thought of himself as superstitious, but apparently all the near to dead experiences had made this part of him more prominent. There was a limit to whether one didn’t believe the things that were brushed off on them during their life.

When he was little, his mother used to tell him not to walk under a ladder when he was going for a work interview, to throw salt at the entrance if he thought someone had hexed him, to keep a horseshoe over his door to avoid curses from entering. Jongho had never paid any of that any mind back in the city, letting his eye roll and his mouth say something silly in response. But now, he basically had the – capital t – curse of the curses tailing at him, so maybe he should’ve listened to his old lady more. Maybe a horseshoe over his door would’ve kept the monstrosity away more than the thousands of candles he had brought did.

It was funny how he hadn’t done anything but mistakes in his entire life. He had refused a sweetheart to date an asshole, brushed off most job offers to chase after the dream of being an athlete, then injured his knee and quite literally saw the latter took off from his fingers. It wasn’t his phobia that made him pathetic, arguably. He hadn’t even been able to keep the monster at bay.

So, if his attempt at fleeing would end up with him dying in the limbo, he actually wouldn’t be surprised. No, the bitterness in his throat made him think that it was actually okay for people like him to leave the world as such.

Jongho didn’t know how, but he had actually fallen asleep in the time the monster had been away to ‘work’.

Probably because he had immediately tested that the shadow limbs holding his legs down on the seat wouldn’t relent even with his best struggle, hard and tight as if the vice had been made of rocks instead of black liquid-y stuff. His pajama pants were basically all darkened with the dusty black powder they released now.

What the monster wanted to do with him was a mystery. The blue hue the flame had taken probably meant that a candle had died, which then meant that another person like him would be abducted. At least, that was what Jongho thought was the boogeyman’s line of work. In all honesty, the sole thought of the tall raven haired man dragging a suitcase while hopping down the road to his workplace was hilarious. No, of course it wasn’t that type of job.

How did it work though? Did he spend time with people until the other came? Giving them nightmares until he finally cut their necks?

Whatever it was, Jongho’s mind dumbly thought that it was better to die while already sleeping. Who knew, maybe he’d get stuck in his dreams forever like so, floating in the rem space for eternity. He only sincerely hoped it wasn’t dark on the other side.

Only that he hadn’t crossed it.

When Jongho woke up, he was still indeed alive – dark limbs missing from his legs this time – cozy under the blanket and staring at the fireplace. A part of him had been thankful for it at first, but simply turning around had made him completely change his mind, the human almost gagging at the scene in front of him. Jongho had, however, nothing in his stomach to throw up: only a white liquid that burned at his lungs as he had gotten it out whilst turning away from the bloodied bath and open corpse the boogeyman was leaning over. That sick bastard.

The human coughed and spit his disgust for more than a couple of minutes, trying to isolate the squelching sounds and the irony smell of blood at best of his capabilities. Not that it was easy when the room had no window to let the scent out, the door at the back being obviously closed – as it had always been ever since he had been dragged there.

Trying to catch his breath, Jongho passed one of his cold hands over his own forehead, trying to forget, to push the memory as far away as possible. Was that going to be his end too? To get slaughtered in the middle of the room with his chest open to show everything inside himself? The human had made another gargled sound at the thought. Of course it was expected that people didn’t simply disappear at the hand of the boogeyman, but to witness the slaughter was another thing.

Jongho hated himself for turning back again at the silence that had settled in between him and the only thing alive in the room with him, trying to focus his stare up enough so that he wouldn’t see the corpse too. The monster met his stare with an eyebrow quirked up, an expression that almost made him feel silly for throwing up. Though reasoning suggested that it was only fair for him to.

Jongho turned away again, rubbing his own face. What the hell, his mind provided.

“You’ve got a weak stomach?”

The shadow inquired, fairly amused, the squelching sounds continuing. The snapping that had followed had almost made the human throw up again – he didn’t know what had caused it.

“A phobia. A weak stomach. And you’re a crybaby.”

The monster scoffed.

“You really are a kid, you know.”

Jongho whined, sniffling a bit. He avoided looking at his own mess on the floor, pulling the blanket over his head and huddling it like it could protect him from all danger. What had gotten into him? He had been prissy ever since he had been dragged there. Was it the dim light? Or had he always been a crybaby as the monster had called him? Either way it seemed the boogeyman wouldn’t leave him alone even when he was turning away, quite literally making him yelp when he had walked in front of him – bloody suit and everything. The laugher that had followed made things even worse.

“Aren’t you cute.”

The shadow whispered, observing as Jongho had tried scrambling away in the limited space of the rocking chair.

“You’re all dirty.”

Was that an effort at gaining back a bit of composure? A desperate attempt at keeping up some sort of façade? Jongho only knew that he was panicked from the tip of his head to his toes. There was no nerve in his body that wasn’t full with tension.

Not that the boogeyman seemed to care, though, regarding his own bloodied hands with boredom and a click of his tongue.

“I found myself a princess, haven’t I?”

He commented, almost amused this time, to then order:

“Stay still.”

*

Though there was no way Jongho could stay still when the monster was getting closer with that bloodied hands of his, a red piece of what he supposed was meat in between them. He had instead scrambled, almost falling off the chair if not for those shadow limbs coming to grab at him, stilling him in a firm manner. The monster had chuffed out a tch sound, left hand grasping at his jaw.

“You haven’t eaten in days.”

The pressure of thumb and fingers from both sides of his face had been enough to pry Jongho’s mouth open, though his teeth were still tightened. Not that it seemed to bother the monster at all, his lips instead quirking up in a smile.

“Open up.”

He whispered, lowly. To which Jongho simply shook his head – for as much as that vice on his jaw permitted.

“Open up or you’ll meet the same end as them.”

The monster pointed to the carcass to the side with an amused expression, the piece of meat kept in between middle and thumb. In between the light of fun in his eyes though, the human could see the seriousness perfectly: the bastard was really going to dismember him. He really was. And hence summoning most of his courage even when his body was shaking, Jongho slowly unhinged his jaw, opening the mouth up for him.

Though he regretted it almost immediately.

The monster didn’t spare any second to push his long fingers – and bloody piece – inside, quite literally showing the thing all the way down to his throat. Jongho had gagged, trying to pry the arm off but failing because of the limbs keeping him in place, and only receiving a hushing sound from the shadow’s part. His whole mouth got filled with the taste of copper in a moment, but with the way he had pushed the piece down his throat, the human had basically only swallowed up – encouraged from the fingers’ movement – without really savoring the meat in any way.

Spitting the piece was impossible even when his gag reflex took over, and that only because the monster had actually shielded his mouth with the same hand he had used to fed him. Jongho had had to take calming breaths from his nose to avoid chocking on his own gastric reflux. Not that it made it easier. Not that it stopped big drops of tears from slipping down his cheeks.

*

“What a crybaby.”

The monster had commented, bloodied hand coming up from his mouth to collect the tears. Which the human hadn’t avoided, since the other’s left hand was still keeping his face in place. He had cried out more, still, hearing another hushing sound from him.

Jongho smelled iron all around him, his face all bloody from the monster’s prior moves. It had even gotten all the way up to his eyes now that the tall man was drying up his tears. In any other circumstance that didn’t include being shoved a piece of human meat down the throat, he would have found the action kind.

It wasn’t the case then, obviously.

The dark thing hummed in thought, reaching in his pants pocket to pick a handkerchief out. Which Jongho thought was incredibly out of place, truthfully, even as the other had gently – too gently – started cleaning his face up.

The silence that had settled in between them wasn’t almost noticed as the fabric got stained in blood, mostly because the human was too busy in checking whether the eyes on him were about to turn hostile or not. It didn’t seem the case, as the monster was looking at him like one could look at a baby who had made a mess while feeding himself for the first time. Humiliating, undoubtedly.

But it wasn’t the time to think about the wound on his pride.

The shadow had clicked out his tongue, and every nerve on Jongho’s body had sprung up in action, fear that he had done something wrong making his mind scramble. What had disappointed him as much for him to emit the sound? The human was now sure that he was losing all his screws.

“Stay still.”

Then the monster had talked, the pressure on his face returning as he had unceremoniously thrown the handkerchief on the floor. Slowly, the vice turned his face so that his left cheek was in front on his face, Jongho’s heart skipping more than one beat because his neck was almost bared to him life this. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the warm lap of the monster’s tongue on his cheek. Nothing. Especially not when he had expected another type of violence on himself and that wasn’t quite like it.

The human had stilled with some sort of sound, brain straining to understand what could possibly be happening. Was he tasting him to decide whether he’d be worth to eat or not? Would he cook him with some spices if it wasn’t the case? With the panic surging in his stomach, Jongho had taken the same time needed for the other to lap another couple of times on his cheek to actually realize that he was simply cleaning him. Yes. Like he was a sort of big feline and he was instead his little messy cub.

The human didn’t know what to think of it. The hits on his pride had been too many, the fact that he was too scared to speak too strong, the long stripes on his cheek… Humiliating in how pleasurable they felt. He felt frozen in time. At least his stillness was saving his the trouble of having the monster being angry at him, though arguably, when the – long – tongue got so close to his mouth, Jongho hadn’t helped but try and avoid it. Which had gained him a firm:

“Be still.”

A reminder spoken with dark eyes. To which the human would’ve liked to remind that there was no way he could go anywhere even if he wanted to, seen the vice of his on his face – thumb and index sinking on one cheek respectively, forcing the mouth in a sort of pout – and the shadow friends that kept him chained on the rocking chair.

His silence had been enough to satisfy the monster, however. His lips had quirked up in a small smile, and his tongue had peeked from them not even a second after, licking a long stripe on the other’s pout. And then another, making the human dreadfully shake. Which wasn’t the wisest of moves when it was clear that the monster loved teasing him, and the grin gracing his features had been enough to testify that he was going to do something… Debatably exciting for him. As much as feeling his bottom lip being pulled in between the other’s teeth could be.

Jongho had painfully felt his entire body still, a gasp flying out as the shadow had sucked at it gently.

“Stop.”

He had the courage to muster when he had parted from him, growing a shade of red deeper than the blood smeared on his face at the embarrassing croak of his own voice. And even as he had not expected it to work, Jongho was still utterly offended when the other had instead smacked their lips together without listening to him one bit.

A kiss.

Or a sort of, because the monster had simply tilted his face slightly to suck at his lips greedily, uncaring of the noise of protest he had let out while instead pushing his tongue inside. So then that would make it a French kiss. But Jongho had the feeling that the shadow was simply continuing his job at cleaning him up, getting the blood out of his mouth.

The slow reasoned moves of his tongue were a further testify to that.

But then again, was all that really necessary? It was way too obvious that the bastard was being a tease. But Jongho could be as much of a tease himself, and though he reckoned flinching away could get him killed, who knew what could happen if he instead played his same game. Maybe he’d finally sweep the amused grin out of his face? Or would he get the fire out to punish him?

The human didn’t think about the consequences that much to be honest. He simply let his tongue pull upwards, meeting the shadow’s one and teasingly rubbing against it.

He did however regret it because the boogeyman wasn’t in the least surprised. On the contrary, he had deepened the kiss even more, right hand coming to still his head by his nape, blocking any movement. Now that was terrifying. Jongho didn’t know how the hell a tongue could reach the back of his throat, but he quickly found out having that zone teased made chills rise up his spine, a growing pit of heat even blossoming in his lower stomach. Not much passed that he had gagged, obviously, the sound making the monster slip out, black eyes observing the way spit had dropped from the human’s mouth with coughs as if it was the most fascinating of things.

He had smirked after it had ended, leaning in to stamp a kiss on the bridge of the other’s nose, slightly tilted to reach even his left eye.

When the monster had taken again his cleaning business on his other cheek, Jongho had noted somewhere deep in his brain to never try and tease him back again.

Jongho was sure he hadn’t imagined the flash of red.

However, he had stilled as soon as the rectangular piece had gotten in his vision, staring at it much like one would when a discount price is too good to be true. A swindle. Or maybe not.

The question was just how desperate he was to spring all the way up the hill, back on the road.

Jongho promptly decided he had nothing more to lose, especially since the darkness had already dropped upon him. It was either that mirage, dying in between the snow, or having his neck broken in two by the boogeyman. So he rushed.

Hopping all the way up the road with an energy he didn’t think his body was still holding in itself, the human has seen the mirage get closer and closer, until his hand had reached to the cold doorknob, and he had proved that it was real.

There was nothing else but joy to describe the feeling that had sparked in his chest as he had turned it, hearing it click, his freedom almost being sealed if not… If not for a vice settling on his hand, painfully halting the movement. For a body slamming right behind him.

For the scent of dust and burnt.

The shadow started being more affectionate ever since he had fed him. Which, to be quite honest, wasn’t doing Jongho’s nerves much of a favor.

He couldn’t read nor him nor his intentions. The man that was apparently the boogeyman was an enigmatic piece of shit. A terrible tease. Lunatic too, someone who would probably kill him out of nowhere, possibly because he had dared speak against him.

Jongho had almost regretted not accepting that work they had offered him at the asylum. It could’ve been a useful experience when dealing with someone like this.

Either way it was incredibly nerve wrecking: the human would find him staring with that expression of interest and dare he say affection every time he woke up – the time in between each nap was getting shorter and shorter, now that he thought about it – and he’d never know what to say. Whether it was even safe to speak. Maybe that was what turned the shadow on, the insecurity settled in his chest whenever he regarded him, knowing he had some sort of power over him and that he could manipulate him as easily.

Jongho thought he must’ve been incredibly bored to find him – in between all people – interesting. And at that point, he was split in between being thankful for this incredible strike of luck or hating the fact that he could meet his end at literally any time. Undoubtedly, the mental games were so exhausting that the human wished he had been killed and eaten already. A fast crack of his neck to fly to somewhere peaceful.

But then again, the dim light in the room was far more preferable to the darkness of the death. And if staying alive was a road built on – quite literally – bootlicking the monster’s shoes, then so be it.

Jongho gave him silent permission to touch whatever part of his body he wanted, simply staring as the shadow had let his long fingers – he had golden rings in some of them – brush a thigh, an arm, his red hair. Never something highly inappropriate at the beginning, it had to be said. But he knew he was growing more daring as time passed. There was something dark blossoming in those eyes of his, silent fascination that had turned in adoration, or something akin to it. The slight parting of his lips when he stared down at him could be interpreted as many things, after all: was it hunger or was it lust? Had he smitten the boogeyman or had he not? Was he going to survive or was he going to be opened up on the carpet floor when a new and fairly more interesting guest would cross the threshold?

Jongho’s mind would travel to questions such as those when the monster would get in front of him, bloodied hands and suit and meat in between his fingers. A ritual he had started to get used to. So much that in between it, he had actually started to see care from the bastard, in the way he shoved the piece right on his throat to probably avoid him from completely tasting anything other than blood. But he’d bet it was mostly because the monster loved the afterward, licking him clean from inside and out. There was a danger in believing his captor was doing something for him, after all, and Jongho knew it, of course. It was the reason such thoughts were always balanced by proof that the boogeyman simply loved to tease him. And kissing him, apparently.

*

Either way, he didn’t know how the hell it got into his mind to actually help him out on that ritual one day. Or in truth, he could imagine the starting thought of it: a desperate attempt to survive under the shape of pleasing the monster. It translated in him actually reaching his hand – once he had gotten more pliant, the shadow limbs hadn’t come to tie him up anymore – to him one of those feeding days, palm upwards and expectant. Not a word – it had come to him that he wasn’t really speaking much those days – though it wasn’t actually needed. The monster had observed his palm with amusement, lips rising up into a smile, taciturnly taking part in whatever was in his prisoner’s mind as he had let the bloodied piece rest on it. His eyes were studying him, Jongho could feel it, though maybe the raven haired man had expected him to throw the offered piece in the fireplace, maybe giving him the chance to have fun like so. Disobedience had always amused him in the beginning.

But Jongho’s pride had taken a strange shape in the time he had lived there. And the more he stared into those black orbs, the more his mind couldn’t help but accept the challenge in them. But not the part that dared him to try a hazard, no. The human had actually shoved the piece in his mouth without a wince, and that had been the first time he had tasted human meat.

Though it hadn’t been easy, truthfully.

As soon as the piece had gotten on his tongue and he had tried chewing on it, he had gagged, eyes stinging by the effort of not throwing the piece up. Jongho was stuck, the piece in his mouth being too disgusting to keep there but also too much to swallow, yet again regretting this courageous dare he had taken. But then, amused smile and all, the monster had actually been the one to come to his help, leaning in, right hand setting in his jaw much like that first time to motion him to open up. Which Jongho had had, allowing the shadow to connect their lips and snatch the piece of meat with ease.

The human simply observed as the monster chewed on it for a bit, thumb sneaking inside his mouth to keep it open so that he could lean in not even a minute after, actually passing him the minced meat. Jongho had had to recollect most of his courage not to throw up at the taste, though he had been aided in the job again: the shadow had pushed the piece with his tongue, then letting it dance with the other’s one so that he was distracted enough to swallow it.

*

Was that a sort of lesson learned? The human would dare say so. But he was almost satisfied in the way the monster had continued kissing him even when there had been no need for him to, sucking at his lips as if they were the most delicious of dishes.

Jongho thought that meant he had completely lost his screws as of then. His mind instead whispered a simple couple of words: Stockholm syndrome. And that was an incredibly low hit, to be quite fair. Especially when another part of his mind reminded him to be ‘as pliant as possible to avoid any further trouble’.

“Sweetheart.”

The man breathed on his nape, and his heart stumbled terribly in his chest. The long fingers holding his hand still from opening the door shifted slightly, making their way to his palm subtly.

Jongho shuddered from head to toe.

The warmth of the other’s chest on his back was both comforting and terrifying. Like standing close to a fire for warmth with the knowledge that it can burn. The terrifying part was however the most present, making him as tense as a violin cord. His quivering probably more than evident for the man at his back.

Jongho wished he didn’t feel the impellent need to beg for forgiveness. He missed the flame of rebellion he had at the beginning, the fierce denial toward him. The flame was however long dimmed in his heart, the cold and chilly fear filling every muscle of his body with tension. There was shame, still, the utter embarrassment of being so hopeless just at the mere touch of the other’s hand on his, the command to stop not even needing to be uttered. The breath on his ear and the grip on his hand were enough to make him want to bear his neck to his enemy. The calming up and down of his chest on his back was soothing enough for him to want to sink into the embrace more, to let go of every stupid desire for freedom to sit back into the clutches of the person he so despised, but he now seemingly desperately yearned for.

“It was good until it lasted, right?”

Jongho made a noise that was immediately hushed with a ‘shhh’. But he hated that above all, the voice held almost no threat in it, rather, it was almost sympathetic. It made him want to give in even more.

The darkness leaned in to gently peck at his nape, and his eyes stung, his breath catching. It soothed the tension in his body though, making it almost dissolve like a wave calmly crashing ashore. He was alert still, and a second kiss laid at the back of his ear had made him bite painfully at his own lips.

Jongho felt close to the point of breakage: the tears in his eyes treated to spill and the lump in his throat was getting more and more difficult to swallow. Why? The voice in his mind inquired, desperate. Why didn’t it work? He was so close to reaching to the place with no magic, and yet darkness had caught up to him nevertheless.

On instinct, his hand on the doorknob almost moved to rotate it, but the grip of the darkness tightened. Jongho felt desperation creeping in. He was so close.

“As much as I have my fair amount of fun in playing hunter and prey with you, I’m afraid that is not an option, my love.”

He muttered lowly on his ear, making the shudders on his back worsened at that. My love? That was new.

“But you mustn’t fret. Take all the time you need.”

Jongho closed his eyes at the words, taking a calming breath in.

“At the end of the day, though, you will come back with me.”

Then why give him time? Or the illusion of choice? Jongho felt the tears of frustration starting to swell in his eyes. The both soothing and frightening presence at his back didn’t speak anymore after that, his breathing even and serene. Probably abiding to the fact that he didn’t want him to rush it.

Jongho let his eyes open again. His stare traveled on the hand gripping his and halting his movements, the familiar golden ring on the index shining slightly. His other arm was basically caging him to the door, his left hand laid on the wooden surface of the door.

He was so close.

Jongho had no hope of someone finding him. He had been lucky enough to find a door to a place without magic in the first place. When the darkness of the night arose though, everyone was scared of the boogeyman coming to take them.

He too had been terrified. Even then that he was in between the embrace of the very threat himself, his heart couldn’t help but speed up with fear. It was familiar though, because Jongho had been there more than anyone had. He had already been caught. Not once, but twice, counting that one.

He shuddered again from head to toe. The warm breath tickling his ear was almost melting every desire to flee of his. Why fight back? He had nowhere to go. He doubted he could kick the darkness off of him. Even if he could’ve, fleeing away when the night was above them was only straight up laughable. Right when light was down, the darkness was stronger anyway.

His reign was when the stars took their place in the sky.

The day had been his best bet to flee, and he had achieved it. But in the night the presence would always find him and soothe him back in his clutches. No matter the struggle he would put up.

Unconsciously, Jongho leaned further back to the warmth against him, eyes slipping closed as he bumped on the other’s torso completely. The darkness didn’t spit out any judgment, soft lips catching the shell of his ear so so gently Jongho’s eyebrows furrowed at the pleasurable feeling. His heart stumbled again, shudders falling on his back.

Oh, the temptation.

Not that he had a choice anyway. That much was clear. His freedom had been taken from him the day they had given him to the boogeyman, and there was no coming back.

His failed attempt was in the shape of that doorknob he held in his hand, but which he couldn’t turn. In the trapping presence of the darkness at his back. In the tight grip on his hand, long finger subtly slipping inside his fist, prying him off his winning chance.

Jongho found himself at the mercy of the current of emotions in his chest.

He was afraid, oh if he was. Darkness wasn’t a nice place to live in, but the presence at his back had achieved in making him comfortable in its cradle. Those warm hands could sweep away every conviction he held dear with as much of a caress. Those lips could let honeyed words slip past to coax him into anything.

There was more to darkness than violence, Jongho had learnt. There was the persuasion of a silken voice that somehow knew how to make you theirs. There was a shadow that would take him back whenever he dared to step out of the place he wanted to keep him in.

Hunter and prey, he had called it.

It seemed to entertain him: his desperation, his attempts. Only because he knew that they were all vain. The shadow could creep on him whenever he wanted, after all. Jongho wouldn’t be surprised to find that it had waited until that last moment to trap him, making him believe he would finally get his freedom back to then snatch it so easily from his fingers. He was almost tempted to ask, to let it break down the least hope he had in his heart that if he had gotten this closer this one time he could do so again in the future.

Instead, Jongho was almost ashamed at the broken noise he let out at the mere thought. He couldn’t move the hand he held on the doorknob anymore now, the slight movement he had again tried had turned the grip of the darkness into a vice. It hurt, not as much as that tears would spill, but enough for another noise to get out of his lips.

There it was again however, that hushing sound that could seemingly make the pain in his heart lessen. Jongho couldn’t hope for the flame of rebellion to get back any stronger.

“Please.”

He begged, deciding to throw his pride out of the window. His jumpy heart was fast enough for him to not care about it. His fear was far too strong, his desperation flowing quickly through his veins.

“Please what?”

The honeyed voice inquired in a whisper on his hear, no mockery present in his words, but it made his chest wobble anyway. Jongho felt a tear spill, and stupidly hoped the shadow wouldn’t see it. The way he cooed at him was further proof that it hadn’t been the case though.

Another peck was hence laid on his nape, and Jongho hated how weak it made his legs feel. How soothing it was.

“Oh, sweetheart. I could make it easier for you.”

Came again in a whisper, the warm breath tickling his skin.

“You just need to ask.”

Jongho shook his head so strongly it almost spun. The temptation was there, however. What was he stalling for? The result would be the same either way, with or without his help.

Faintly, he felt him smirk on the skin of his neck at his silent answer. I hate you, he thought, but something in his chest ached. Jongho brought his free hand upwards, drying the stray tear with the hem of his sleeve.

He stared at the door, pondering his options.

Lips trembling, he observed the red colored wood with painful knowledge in his chest. The metal of the doorknob under his hand had turned warm by that time, but it would soon be cold again. As he had said, it had been good until it had lasted.

Jongho let go of the grip slowly, with the fright getting stronger and stronger the more he abandoned his sole anchor.

So close. He had been so close.

The bitterness in his throat wouldn’t go away no matter the way he swallowed and swallowed.

The darkness was there to catch him when he fully let go, however. It was always there, it would always seep in when a crack opened, ready to fill it in with the blackest of pigments. The hand that fell from the doorknob was quickly trapped in the already present grip over it. It halted every possible after thought.

“There you go.”

The whisper came to him again, predictably.

“It wasn’t that bad, wasn’t it?”

Jongho closed his eyes, swallowing hard when the arm caging him had draped over his stomach, his weight now leaning totally on the other’s torso. A couple of gentle pecks were laid on both his nape and the side of his neck, as if in reward for that choice. He obviously couldn’t help but want to cry at them.

“You have no use of me.”

He whispered instead, voice shaky by the mixture of feelings setting in his stomach.

“Why won’t you let me go?”

Jongho hated that he sounded so pathetically whiney.

“Why can’t you, Yunho?”

Said Yunho smiled on his skin.

“My, my.”

He started, his silken voice making a couple of chills drop on his back.

“So you know how to spell my name after all.”

He commented, lowly, teeth grazing at the side of his neck. Something awoke in Jongho at it, and he tried pulling away, only to find himself chained to the same spot. The vice Yunho was holding him with was immovable. His chest heaved by the fatigue of trying to scroll him away.

“Let me go.”

He pushed out, desperate.

“I’m afraid not, honey.”

Jongho was utterly ashamed of the weak sound that got out of his mouth at that.

“But why?”

He whispered, more to himself than to him, though Yunho answered earnestly.

“Why would I even consider letting go of you, sweetheart?”

He inquired, seeming reasonable. It made him shudder.

“The moment the candle has been blown, you’ve been mine. And you know I don’t fancy giving my possessions away. Nor returning gifts.”

The darkness nosed at his neck, his breath tickling at his skin. Jongho’s free hand still gripped at the arm he was holding him close with, desperate.

“Or does it perhaps bother you that you’re of no use to me?”

Yunho started, immovable as a rock. Jongho was too busy in trying to scroll him off to answer. It made him shift his arm to catch his other free hand eventually, keeping it still with his right one. He didn’t seem bothered though. Something about that feeling just didn’t belong with him: the human had only ever seen him entertained in making him scared to death.

“My dear, a knick-knack isn’t meant to do any job at all. Merely to serve the purpose to be beautiful.”

Yunho whispered right on his ear.

“Silly boy.”

He continued lowly, making Jongho shudder from head to toe.

“Shut up.”

He mustered the courage to mutter, though his legs were already trembling from fear.

“You don’t want me to shut up, believe me.”

Yunho gently pecked at the shell of his ear.

“Because it usually means I’m enraged, and you don’t actually want me to be, right?”

Jongho chocked a whine of distress at the rhetorical question. The hushing sound came nevertheless, soothing part of his anxiety.

“All is fine, sweetheart. I already told you I was fairly entertained by your silly attempt.”

Jongho hated that he was actually relieved in hearing that. He didn’t blame himself for it though, especially when the man behind him was used to ripping people apart.

“You don’t have to be afraid.”

I can make it easier for you.

Jongho sniffled at the words, staring at the door in front of him with stinging eyes. The vice he was held in tightened at it, probably to discourage him. It was a warning without any doubt. But arguably, the human got nothing to lose anymore at that point, if not for his life. Though if he died fast, Jongho wouldn’t be that angry about it. Hence he tried it, one last desperate attempt at getting out of the embrace anyway, weighting desperately forward.

It was futile, obviously. Like slamming on a hard surface.

Yunho dragged him at least a feet behind in response to that, no matter his kicking on the ground to try and halt it. The closed door suddenly didn’t feel so close anymore, and it hit Jongho’s frightened mind harshly. A cascade of desperate ‘no’ started falling from his lips in mutters.

Yunho simply hushed him again while dragging his body behind little by little, though his whistle wasn’t as soothing this time.

“Please. Please.”

Jongho begged when the distance in between him and his anchor for safety was turning longer and longer.

“Be careful of how much you beg, sweet thing, or I may end up taking a liking on it. You sound lovely.”

The honey voice immediately complimented, but didn’t halt his motion in the least.

“It’s still a no though.”

Jongho couldn’t take it anymore. Tears spilled from his eyes uncontrolled, his sobs cutting through his dry throat without any restraint.

“I can’t.”

His breath was ragged whilst he tried making a sense of his own thoughts.

“Please. I can’t. I’m afraid, please.”

Jongho felt desperate. Yunho halted for a moment, but simply to hush him again. His shhh right on his ear almost made him go lax.

“Your place is with me now.”

He whispered, to which Jongho sobbed loudly.

“I didn’t blow the candle!”

He whined.

“I didn’t choose this!”

Yunho pecked at his wet cheek gently. It made his breath catch slightly. On instinct, Jongho turned to finally stare at the dark eyes, his own full with tears. Yunho looked unfazed.

“I know you didn’t.”

He whispered.

“But can you really argue that you didn’t do this to yourself?”

He continued, reasonable. Jongho shook his head again, breath frantic.

“No?”

Yunho smiled.

“Weren’t you going to blow your friend’s candle before he did the same with you?”

Jongho stilled immediately, like he had been frozen. His breath definitely got caught in his throat. How? His mind got filled with static as he stared at the other’s entertained expression. How did he know?

“Silly baby.”

The darkness whispered, head cocking to the side slightly.

“You got screwed up, didn’t you?”

Jongho’s lips trembled as he mustered the strength to rebut. No words came to him though: the only thing he could do was stare at those dark eyes with growing fear and guilt. He felt like a baby caught red handed, for sure. A silly baby indeed.

His stare must’ve been pretty resented, because Yunho cooed at him again, leaning closer. Their noses brushed. Jongho turned back again, face dropping down to watch at his feet. The laughter that slipped out of the darkness lips scratched at his pride badly.

His resentment only grew, obviously, but panic arose again when Yunho started dragging him back again. Jongho kicked again, trying to use his own feet as pivots but without any success.

Jongho had a sweetheart back in the city. One that he had achieved in winning over after a strenuous battle for his heart, actually, and who had lived with for a bit before the bogeyman thing had happened.

It wasn’t that the redhead was not popular, it was simply that Kang Yeosang was extremely contented in between suitors. And both the fact that Choi Jongho wasn’t half as handsome as them and the snobbish attitude the senior had were basically the reason he had struggled as much to capture his heart. Though in hindsight, the human should’ve left it at that back then. Or perhaps listen – yet again – to his old lady when he had told him that the blonde swan wasn’t to be trusted.

“Things of beauty burn.”

She’d often remind when Jongho was in the process of preparing for a date with him, white daisies – to be gifted to his sweetheart – resting on his dressing table as he changed his bowtie for the tenth time. But as for most things his mother said, Jongho would usually just roll his eyes at it. The old lady was a witch after all, tied to the bones to tradition. The fact that she had always disdained his son for not having inherited her powers didn’t play in her favor too, much like the nyctophobia the red head suffered from didn’t help her impression of him. The latter being that he was weak. Or did his knee injury or the fact that he wasn’t religious.

As there were little to no things that could satisfy old lady Choi, it wasn’t in the least surprising that Jongho didn’t listen to her grumbling most of the times. On the contrary, it was almost a matter of principle to prove her wrong whenever she scolded him for something, and so had partially been with his engagement with Kang Yeosang. The other half of the reason being that Jongho was utterly smitten by him.

But if there was something he shouldn’t have ignored, actually, they were indeed those grumbles. And Yeosang had eventually been the reason he had gotten into the bogeyman’s hands not even a month afterwards.

Though stubborn and completely enamored, Jongho wasn’t as blind not to notice stuff. So when the blonde’s behavior had muted even the slightest right after their engagement and the beginning of their cohabitation, the red head had almost immediately caught on it. Though he reckoned it could’ve been his priorly hidden nyctophobia at first, so he had let it be for a bit, the issue stagnating until he had actually found the devastating truth entirely by coincidence: Yeosang had a lover. Or to be more precise, the blonde had never stopped seeing this man even when he had said yes to Jongho.

So it was just like his old lady had said to him: he wasn’t worth of even an ounce of the trust he had given to him.

Resented, Jongho had then collected proof after proof of his fiancé’s guilt: letters, secret dates, gifts from givers who were always anonymous, but under whom hid one single culprit. It was heartbreaking. Humiliating for the most. And even though the human had started pondering on the thought of turning the blonde’s candle off, he had always stalled.

So Yeosang had done him dirty first.

“I don’t like traitors, you know.”

Yunho whispered whilst laying him back on the rocking chair right next to the fireplace, throwing the coat he had been wearing on the floor. Jongho felt like a ragged piece of fabric, sniffling weakly with his cheeks wet as he had swung a bit on it, until the monster had halted the movement aided by his shadows. Weakened, he simply let him adjust his body for him, tucking the familiar heavy blanket over legs.

Why wasn’t darkness cold? Jongho would’ve liked to know. The fireplace next to him gave off warmth that tickled pleasingly at his frostbitten skin.

Yunho looked at him for a while, silently pondering with an engrossed expression. His head tipped to the right slightly as he blinked slowly, as if he was observing something really interesting.

Jongho didn’t dare speak. He just stared back, probably looking utterly defeated more than daring or ready to siege war on him. So Yunho – basically having made sure that he had no intention of fighting back – simply crouched down, right hand gently laying over his.

“Do you know the story of the bogeyman?”

And he inquired that, voice velvety.

Jongho swallowed hard. In truth, there was no one who bothered to tell the story back in the city. Most people were just satisfied in knowing there was this terrible catastrophe that happened every night, and that they needed to keep the candle alive for it not to get over their heads. So no, Jongho – and every inhabitant of the city – actually didn’t know. Hence he slowly shook his head, feeling that his throat was too scratchy to let out any sound.

Yunho’s lips curved slightly at the ends at it.

“Pity.”

He commented, eyes dropping to his hand as he gently touched it, making a handful of chills drop down the other’s spine.

“It’s a story of betrayal. Very much like yours.”

Yunho continued, scoffing while getting lost in his thoughts. His stare didn’t flinch away from Jongho’s hand even one second.

“Me and you, we were left to get swallowed by the dark by someone we trusted.”

The human’s fingers trembled slightly at that, and Yunho’s caresses halted. His hand took his in his, weighting up and regarding it like it was a valuable object. The other didn’t dare slap it away.

“Like everyone else, actually.”

The darkness continued, lost in his thoughts. Jongho’s mind was already running. What did that mean?

“Darkness tends to take a liking on people who are left behind.”

Yunho whispered, lowly, and Jongho’s hand closed into a fist on his. Pure fear was already rushing through his veins, as he stared at the other’s face.

“What do you mean?”

He croaked, cringing at how groggy his voice sounded.

“What do you mean with everyone?”

Yunho’s eyes finally got on him at the questions, an amused smile gracing his lips. Jongho shuddered because of it though, almost preferring when his hand had his sole attention.

“Those candles you use are pretty funny, don’t you think? Not a single blow of the wind can kill the flame.”

Jongho’s chest heaved with his rushing breathing.

“Think deeply, sweetheart.”

Yunho caressed his hand, strong tapered fingers already prying the fist open. The red head shook his head: he didn’t get it and didn’t think it was true. The shadow simply cooed at him.

“There is not much of a difference in between me and you, or you and anyone who’s been here before. And that’s because those nice candles of yours will do their job until another human deeds it to be enough.”

Jongho stilled, breath catching.

“Be it a pinch of two fingers or a cup.”

Yunho lowered his face as he whispered that, lips brushing at his wrist as his hand kept his still.

“But a blow on the flame is more than enough most of the times.”

He continued in an even lower voice, gently blowing at his skin as if it was a candle to kill instead.

Jongho’s world fell on itself. His lips trembled as he searched for something to say, but found nothing. It was asinine. No one’s candle had ever died because of the wind or the rain because no one dared bring it outside during the morning. Obviously, there was only so much wind that could get inside a person’s house at night, especially with the windows closed. Jongho didn’t want to believe it, but yet, there it was.

Yunho’s peck on the skin of his wrist was what brought him to reality again.

“It can’t be true.”

He muttered, his words almost hushed completely by his bafflement. The shadow parted from his skin at them, stare taken by something else. The vice he was holding the hand still with was almost hurtful.

What about those children then? Jongho’s heart was rushing the more he thought about it. Who in their right mind would give their children to the bogeyman? Jongho found his own breathing hitching, his chest heaving as Yunho regarded him quite calmly. Again, his dejected expression must’ve been pretty entertaining to him.

“Such a pretty face for a heart so grim.”

He however commented in a whisper, regarding his features with interest. Jongho didn’t know what to answer to that. He was tired, and his body felt heavy because of the whole stress the escape attempt had brought to him. He had no energy to come up with something interesting to keep the other amused.

Yunho actually left his hand be after a long moment of silence, and the human massaged his wrist with a grimace. The shadow seemed quite entertained again even without any word from him, smiling as he laid his chin on his right hand. His left hand found his place on the red haired boy’s leg, simply staying there.

Jongho’s mind was rushing to all the kind of ideas in the meanwhile. For one, there was the thing that the monster had said that he hated traitors and he was just that, so that meant he was probably going to get shred to pieces even after his best efforts. Then was the whole betrayal revelation. It meant that at least half of the city citizens were murderers, that they were no better than the monster crouched down and looking at him with adoring eyes.

“Say”

Yunho begun again as he observed him, eventually rising up. His height made him look even more menacing though, making the human sink more into the seat he was occupying. Though he leaned over him again in a second, hand settling on his thigh.

“Do you want me to find him?”

He then continued in an inquiry, alluring.

“And to kill him?”

Jongho looked straight at him at it, his desire for revenge actually sparking up at the questions, much like a dog raising his head at its name.

“You really want me to don’t you? I see the yearning in your stare.”

Though the human shook his head, pushing his shameful thoughts even deeper in his mind, almost scared that the other could really see them. His smile at the denial though, it made his rage boil in between the tiredness and the fear.

“You can’t do anything to him.”

He whispered, not bowing to rage as he thought of the candle. Yunho pondered on the words for a moment, his hand on his thigh getting in a grip.

“You’re still human, you know that?”

He begun, almost teasing. Still? Jongho shuddered at the mere words.

“Flesh, bones.”

The hand on his thigh trailed down little by little.

“A very noisy heart.”

Yunho’s eyes got on him, staring straight onto his. If his pulse was noisy already, the stare made it even faster and probably even noisier. Jongho was so scared at the moment that his back was covered in chills.

“If I took you to him”

The honey voice begun his inquire.

“Wouldn’t you want to finish your job?”

Jongho swallowed hard at the question. The other’s eyes were intense and alluring.

“Sweetheart.”

Yunho got closer, taking his left hand in between his. His other was basically laid on the armrest, preventing the rocking chair from moving.

“I wonder what you’d do. Satiate your need for revenge or protect him with all your strength?”

There was actually a part of Jongho who wanted to scream of course I would protect him, but there was also his mind reminding him that all of that would’ve never happened if not for Yeosang. If he hadn’t blown the candle, he wouldn’t be dealing with the monster in the first place.

“Did you get revenge?”

He instead whispered beneath his breath, and Yunho smiled sheepishly. It made his fear triple.

“Don’t you want to?”

He countered, voice low. His lips found his hand, kissing it like it was something precious.

“It will make you feel better.”

“No.”

It slipped out before Jongho could’ve really thought about it, though he tried not to think too hard about it. By the way the monster was smiling, his stubbornness didn’t seem to displease him.

“Liar.”

He however whispered, and Jongho’s pride didn’t take that well. Mostly because it was partially true.

“What would you possibly know about love?”

He hence questioned, then suddenly remembering that he was still fighting for his life and muttering out a fast:

“Forget it.”

Though Yunho had clicked his tongue at the inquiry.

“Love wouldn’t make you consider giving your lover to me.”

He whispered, and in truth, Jongho didn’t have much to rebut about it. He felt like he had to defend himself, to beat his chest and tell that after all he had endured for a single month he hadn’t been the one to actually send his lover to hell, but he didn’t.

“Then kill me, what are you even waiting for?”

He instead commented, utterly defeated. May as well end it here, his mind provided, but not even it was convinced that Yunho would listen to him and finally end his suffering. It just didn’t seem like him. For a fact, the mere question had made him burst out in a laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

He started, his amused smile still on his lips.

“You think so poorly of me.”

Not that he was helping his impression. Jongho had in fact frowned deeply at the statement, observing the hand the bogeyman was keeping in his, pondering whether to snatch it away or not. The grip on his thigh was terribly close to his groin, and it irked him up. In between it all, the human hated that he wasn’t giving him nor a confirmation nor a denial, but simply subtly implying that thinking he would kill him was to have a poor impression of him.

“You have a certain reputation.”

He whispered, looking straight at him, possibly trying to get a grip on himself as he still felt hazy from the events from before.

“It doesn’t help my overall impression.”

Yunho cooed at him, as if he was a kid throwing a tantrum.

“Are you afraid?”

He asked, velvety voice and all, but it sounded more like teasing than a serious inquire. Jongho pondered deeply on whether to answer that or not.

“Yes.”

He then whispered, his voice so low that he was sure no one other than the monster standing in front of him could’ve caught on it. Not that there was anyone in the little room they were in. No one to witness Yunho’s smirk at the word other than him.

“Thought so.”

The monster whispered, and Jongho swallowed hard at it, trying to sink more into the chair as the other leaned further in. Not that there was much space to flee from as of then, it was an instinctive reflex. Though as soon as Yunho had brushed their noses together, he had actually dragged the human down the chair with ease – blanket and all – to settle him on the rug on the floor, towering over his figure.

The red haired boy’s fight of flight instinct got triggered by the move, his legs coming to hit upwards at the way the monster was pulling at his pants, lowering them all the way down to let his naked skin breathe.

Jongho chocked a sound, hands immobilized close to his face – he didn’t have to check them to know there were shadows limbs over them – as he dreadfully observed as Yunho pulled his briefs downwards without even breaking a sweat. His stare got fixed on his heat even with the way Jongho had closed this thighs as much as he could’ve with the tall man right in between them, hands caressing up and down on the skin. Not that the attention lasted much – though the human felt his dick swell a bit at it – as his hands trailed upwards, dragging the hem of his skin up until past his chest no matter the whine the other got out. And Yunho’s bored expression broke again into a smile as his eyes traveled with the move too, a humming sound coming first, and then:

“As I thought.”

Jongho being confused at it before he had eventually looked down to his chest himself, gargling on a startled noise at the black stain of the skin over his heart. Which he didn’t remember any limb touching.

“What have you done to me?”

He hence muttered, straight up panic surging in as he had regarded the other’s straight face. Yunho had looked at him with another amused stare.

“Me? Nothing.”

Though the word nothing was debatable. Warm fingers coming up, the bogeyman had gently traced the stain while staring at it.

“You don’t have much time.”

He then whispered, lost in his thoughts.

“If you want to take revenge, you should act quickly.”

Jongho, however, was still panicking for the stain in his chest, busy staring down at it. It was almost like someone had drawn on it with charcoal, keeping the pigment all at its center and going lighter the farther it got away. It really looked like what a grip from the shadow limbs did on things, but none of those had touched him there. He was sure of it.

Possibly noticing his stare down, Yunho smiled again, hands coming to undo his own jacket and free himself of it. Thing that Jongho observed with fear, until the monster’s chest had actually been in sight, and it had finally clicked in his brain. The shadow limbs holding him down got away as he rose lightly up, staring at the mirroring black spot that was on his captor’s chest. Black as a night without stars, actually located slightly on the left, where the heart should be. The human was speechless, though startled more than anything: he hadn’t helped but make a sound of distress.

You’re still human.

So that was what he was referring to.

“You realized it?”

Yunho questioned, still amused as Jongho stared at his chest, almost frozen on the spot.

“What have you done to me…”

The human repeated, still hypnotized, panic breaking in his expression as the shadow had pinned him down by himself again, no matter his kicking.

“You’re still human.”

He had stated, almost reassuring, though the evil smirk on his lips said otherwise.

“Which is why you should think quickly.”

He continued, effortlessly keeping the other’s hands together on his chest with his left, while letting his body fall on him, trapping him down. His right fingers came to gently play with some strands of his red hair as Jongho tried catching his breath, chest surging up and down with urgency as he took in their closeness. His naked length was basically sandwiched in between his stomachs, as of then heaving a bit at the warm touch of their skins.

“So what is it? Revenge? Or will you simply wither, cowardly waiting for someone to make the choice for you?”

It was too much.

“I already told you.”

Jongho tried, struggling a bit but then giving up under the other’s weight. The dark pools of Yunho’s eyes were taking his will to fight back with simple staring.

“It’s already started, you can’t stop it.”

The shadow’s hand had trailed to his cheek, cupping it as he thumbed at the skin.

“You won’t get any other occasion if not now.”

Yunho smiled softly – almost sadly – as his thumb traced at his lips as he looked at them.

“You will soon be called to take the people who have been betrayed like you and me. You will walk the city in the dark, and you could pass through the house you shared together. See a light”

Eyes traveling upwards, he looked at them again before going on:

“Right there, at the window. Still alive because you left it at that. Possibly never going to die because the lover he’s gotten into your bed knows love more than me and you do.”

An inhale.

“Will you be able to take it?”

Jongho stilled. Would he? He’d be lying if he said that the instinct to say no was driven out of care. Actually, his entire being was burning with the need to get revenge, no matter how much he denied it. The point was that he hated to admit that he was right. He despised the fact that he could see through him so easily even without knowing anything about him other than his deepest fears. Though he reckoned it was probably because, as he had priory stated, both of them had been given to the darkness without their assent. And that wasn’t easy to forgive.

Yet.

“So I’m really going to turn.”

He whispered, mostly to himself than to the other, though the monster’s amusement was enough for him to confirm it.

“If I die, it will stop. Won’t it?”

He then questioned, not really looking at him now but letting his stare travel to the dancing fire at their side. He didn’t even know why he had inquired that, to be honest: Jongho wanted to live. He wanted to live so much that he was choosing not to irk the bogeyman even when he was there, naked under him for no apparent reason. He was grasping at every opportunity he could, and yet, there he was asking if death could be the final solution.

“Yes.”

Though for once, Yunho didn’t answer in riddles, taking him by surprise enough for him to turn to face him again.

“Do you want me to do it?”

The shadow seemed completely unbothered by what he had asked, right hand trailing down to dangerously weight on his neck. A dare. But one Jongho couldn’t accept for once.

“No.”

He answered back, voice small and insignificant as he actually felt at the moment, pressed down by the tall man laying over him.

“I’m actually as much of a coward as you think I am.”

He then whispered, somehow drawing an amused humming sound from the monster.

“Then he lives.”

He commented, his tone resembling one used when recounting a very specific type of joke, like one who you still can’t hardly believe.

“You said you dislike betrayers.”

Jongho didn’t know where he got the audacity all of a sudden, eyes dropping down to stare at the shape of the other’s lips.

“Well here the fuck I am. Betrayed but not even closely a betrayer.”

Said lips quirked up in a smile as soon as he added that, somehow gifting a new feeling to the – still, but not for long – human. The one of being proud for having entertained him enough to still be alive. It felt like that one time Jongho had won a mere sum of money at the lottery.

“Pity.”

Yunho however whispered lowly, leaning in to brush their noses together.

“I wanted you to give him to me.”

The red haired boy shuddered at it, not daring to speak.

“I wanted to tear him apart and feed you off him.”

Suddenly remembering the taste of meat, Jongho got nauseous at the statement, swallowing a tick seam of saliva to avoid making it noticed.

“Are you displeased?”

He hence questioned, voice still little.

“Not as much as you are for giving in to morality.”

Yunho’s answer was a low hit, however. As of everything it did, it stung at his stomach like he was repeatedly twisting a knife in his guts. But Jongho, he was basically lost in the want to stay alive and in the fear of darkness falling over him if he made a wrong call. Or well, more like of the fire going off, since he too was becoming the personification of darkness. Would he be less scared then? He doubted it. He’d probably be a laughable excuse for a bogeyman.

Jongho didn’t think much afterwards.

His legs clung onto the other’s torso, relieved in the softness of his hips. His body was going lax in their closeness, even when Yunho was quite literally dangerously thumbing at his neck like he was pondering whether to snap it or not. The human didn’t know how much time he had spent there, but he was already feeling at home in the darkness’ cradle. Not that he was wrong for getting accustomed to it when the stain on his chest was a sign that there was no place for him everywhere but there. So then why fight the felling, right? The choice had been in between death and this and he had taken this future. Even when it meant sticking to this monster for the rest of his life. Arguably there was lesser humanity in him as the clock ticked and ticked.

If he wanted to use him as a knick knack, so be it. Jongho wasn’t a stranger to having to swallow shit to survive, and this was one of the best options he had ever faced, actually. Ironically so. Or maybe it was just this stupid Stockholm syndrome.

On instinct, his mind traveled back, going through their conversation again and again. Maybe the lover knows love more than me and you do, he had said. Jongho honestly thought it wouldn’t be the case. But it wasn’t another conversation he was yearning for at the present moment. His crossed hands that he was keeping firm moved slightly, fingers reaching upwards to actually touch the stain on the other’s chest.

Yunho’s eyes had followed them immediately, head tilting to the side as he silently observed the way the fingers traced the design. To then leave his grip on them, allowing Jongho to explore without boundaries, to go up all the way to his clavicles, and down to his nip. After all, it was not like the human could possibly go anywhere. He could struggle and let him have some fun, clearly, but he didn’t look intentioned to do any of that. No, Jongho was enchanted by him in some way.

His memory was already going back to the kisses they had shared when he fed him, his body burning feverishly because of it.

The human, however, he wouldn’t dare anything against the man laying over him. Especially not when he didn’t know whether their desires matched, and Yunho’s face was unreadable as always. Hence he simply let his hands roam, going up to his neck for a moment but then getting down, simply resting laid over his shoulders. Jongho swallowed tickly.

“What is it, sweetheart?

The shadow inquired, looking at him in interest.

“Did you change your mind?”

The human shook his head.

“Can I redress?”

He instead questioned, drawing a smile out of Yunho.

“Why? Aren’t you comfortable?”

The shadow countered, but shifted on his side anyway, body covering the light coming from the fireplace. His hand stayed laid over the human’s stomach though, going slightly downwards to almost touch his naked length. Which made the other shudder.

“It’s not like we have much to do here anyways.”

Yunho whispered, letting a darker intention slip in there as he trailed the other’s body with his stare. Jongho had followed it with his, locking eyes with the shadow at the end of their travel.

“Why are you asking for permission?”

He simply countered, legitimately curios as that was what it seemed like to him.

“It’s not like you ask the chair before sitting on it.”

If a bit of his sarcasm had slipped, the shadow didn’t seem bothered by it at all. His lips were still in that amused smile shape, eyes blinking slowly.

Jongho whined, cheeks wet with the tears slipping down on his cheeks. The pleasure mixed with the fear made his head dizzy, hands frantically grabbing at the tangled sheets beneath him for support, making the rocking chair move a little.

He sobbed, the grip on his hip and holding his back arched almost heavy on the skin, Yunho’s other hand pushing his head down. His hips met his back in long swallow thrusts.

It hurt and made warmth pool in his stomach in equal parts, his hard on in between his legs dangling with each hit inside him. A long stipe of pre come was coming down slowly from his slit already, coating here and there with the rocking back and forth, staining his cheeks of red embarrassment.

Jongho’s whole body shook when the shadow trusted in again, but got deeper, pushing inside until his entrails stung terribly. With a broken cry, he tried shaking him off, but Yunho firmly held him down, collapsing down on him.

Gentle kisses were laid on his nape, making him relax even with the overwhelming pressure in his entrails.

Then, a smile. Yunho bottomed out to push all the way back in again, and again, until Jongho screamed by the utter sting in his stomach. Crying out freely, his throat burnt as Yunho got out again, hard member laying heavily in between his ass cheeks.

“You are so easy to play with.”

He whispered, his hand aiding his cock in slipping inside again not even a moment after.

“All it takes for you to do as I say is the threat of putting the fire off.”

Yunho moved his hips again, circling them slightly as he got comfortable inside. Jongho took a shaky open mouthed breath at the feeling, searching for stability on the chair his torso was leaning on. His head was spinning in between all of it, his face still bloodied since the monster had decided to jump all preliminaries to slam inside him instead. Yet, even with the reminder flying in his head not to fight it, Jongho found himself pleasured in the pressure on his lower abdomen, hand coming down to touch there, to feel the intrusion under the skin almost as if in making sure that it was real.

“Will you ever get used to this, sweetheart?”

Yunho backed out almost entirely again with the question, slamming in after a bit. The human cried out at it, hands reaching behind to try and stop him, though the shadow simply grabbed at them, using them as a way to pull him more onto his erection. It got a moan out of Jongho’s mouth, the latter mixing with a cry.

Yunho cooed at him when his legs trembled from the sheer over stimulation, everything being too much already.

Jongho came again – he had first done that because of the fingering – at that, thighs straining to close as he babbled out incoherent nonsense. He felt completely tired out by then, almost letting the other use him as a ragged doll. The intruding drill of the other’s cock only made him want to moan and cry. It was pleasurable as much as it was humiliating for him, to think that he had come twice because of the captor who basically fed him his victims every single day. To think that his body was sucking him in like he was some sort of whore anyway, every nerve on his body singing with each trust.

Yunho grew tired of the position quite easily though, slipping out and letting him fall on the sheets on the floor, then repositioning the both of them on their side as he fucked back in.

His movements were slower this time, his hand resting over the other’s abdomen, perhaps to feel his own intrusion just as the human had before. Not that Jongho would complain about it, his thighs were already feeling better now that he wasn’t crouched down with his ass on display for him, his only support being that rocking chair that was anything but stable. Now being able to see himself, the human instead let his eyes stare down to the bloody handprints on him, the red hands of the bogeyman holding him still as he continued in shallowly making love to him.

In between all of it, the monster had had enough care to flip him so that he was looking at the dancing flame of the fireplace and not at the rotting cadaver right in the other side of the room. He could smell the iron of the wounds pretty well though, mixed with another scent that was undoubtedly caused by sex.

Lost in his thoughts, Jongho was actually taken by surprise when the monster eventually came deep inside him, the warm feeling of something filling him making him moan lowly, hands scrambling a bit behind to search for something to grab on. Jongho had rolled on his stomach when Yunho slipped out, feeling hazy as he rested his tired body on the sheets and rug on the floor.

Something in the slightly ragged breath on his neck – the shadow had stamped some kisses in there – told him that wouldn’t be a one-time thing.

Jongho walked with his head heavy, heart silent as he regarded the familiar streets around him.

It hadn’t taken much for him to turn, actually. Yunho wasn’t lying when he had said he didn’t have much if he wanted to take revenge, but it had still taken him by surprise when it had happened, laid down under the monster fucking onto him. His body had felt so cold for a moment, heart painfully constricting over itself, and then his own shadow had stretched and contorted until he had basically understood that something had changed in him.

In hindsight, the transformation really seemed like a piece of cake. However, reality was that it translated in being unable to go anywhere but in the strange limbo where the house of his captor was located. Or at least, not until a candle died and both of them would get called by the changing hue of the fireplace. Whoever went to kill wasn’t really important, it seemed, it was even better to be more than one when more than one flame got extinct. Though until then, Yunho had actually prohibited him from chasing after any human, and even after this transformation, Jongho had been at a power disadvantage. He liked to say it was because he had been given to him, after all, but it was probably because his nyctophobia was still thriving enough to be both a weakness and a hindrance.

And in all honesty, he wasn’t in the least interested in killing Yunho. Probably because other than the monstrous beings in the limbo and some human who at times got lost, the shadow being was the only company he had. Though he still fled from him from time to time, exploring here and there in between the forest until the other would come get him. Perhaps that was his own way of getting fun: he liked the amusement in the other’s face far more than he’d ever admit. As much as testing his patience when he’d start running as soon as he saw him in the distance on those occasions.

And even then that he was taking his first human, Yunho was probably following him from afar. Not that he could lose sight of him when Jongho was dragging a lightened candle with himself, the dim light enough to soothe his running heart.

Just as he had thought, he was actually a poor excuse of a bogeyman. Not even becoming one with the shadows had made the phobia actually go away, and it was just straight up laughable. The chills on his back as he got further down the road were nothing but a comedy show, and the fact that he flinched when a shadow passed close to him even while knowing who it was being the cherry on the cake.

“It’s there.”

Yunho whispered to him, tilting his chin in the direction of the house. A place that was more than familiar to Jongho, who was however learning not to let his feelings be seen on his face.

With a sigh, the red head of hair simply stared at the other’s amused eyes for a bit, then letting himself fall down into his own shadow to enter the house without having to barge the door, going through crevice to crevice until he had found himself in the room he was searching for.

Jongho had gotten back to his human form – candle still in hand – with a heavy heart.

Of course he had already known there must’ve been some kind of reason for Yunho to suddenly decide to let him take a human. And of course he had understood who the target was with a sole look at the house not even a moment before, but yet the way she had been waiting placidly, rocking on the chair he was used to see her on…It had been a low hit. Jongho sniffled back a tear.

“I had a feeling it would’ve been you.”

His mother wasn’t the type to smile at him even when death awaited her, it seemed.

“I always saw a shadow lingering on you whenever I tried doing a divination for you.”

Round eyes similar to his had gotten on him, then to the candle he was holding.  Jongho didn’t need for her to actually click her tongue to hear the sound in his head: even as a monster he didn’t meet her approval.

“You extinguished it. Why?”

He instead asked, eyes travelling to the familiar blue candle that he too had used to protect himself back in the day – not that it had done much.

“I needed to know the truth.”

She was firm as she answered. She was basically everything her son wasn’t: steady, fierce and resolute. Without any reason in particular, Jongho thought of the time Yunho had called him a crybaby as he stared at her: his old lady would probably say that he had been right.

“Mister Kang said that he was out when it took you, but rumors tell otherwise.”

“The rumors are true.”

There was no reason to lie to someone who had a death sentence on themselves, he’d dare argue.

“He gave me up to him.”

Jongho bitterly commented, stare down to the wooden floor. Arguably, he didn’t need to spare more words for his mother to understand.

“Then I curse him.”

She only answered, solemn air with her hands resting on her lap. Even in front of death, her head was standing tall.

“You can take me now.”

Jongho had imagined that would be the way she would go, not even sparing a word toward him if not for the whispered curse to take revenge for his death. Though actually, the red head thought even that had been more for herself than him. So he didn’t beg for recognition as he let the dark shadows stretching from his feet swallow her up instead, simply following her stare when she looked over his shoulders, meeting a familiar amused expression.

Sick bastard.

“Let’s go, sweetheart.”

Yunho whispered on his ear, hands coming to lay on his shoulders.

“It’s Jongho.”

The fellow bogeyman countered.

“Choi Jongho.”