Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Loud. The only coherent thought Jisung could piece together was that of the blooming pain in his eardrums. The music was loud. The people were loud. Every single noise- glasses clinking, casual chatter, laughter, all morphing together into one huge ball of white hot agony.

They were attending a celebration party, held by JYP for their upcoming album, ATE. They could tell that this album was going to be one of their best performing yet

I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go-

"Sungie."

He was brought out of his mantra and back to Earth to look into the face of his worried best friend, Minho. 

Minho was his soulmate, an angel sent to him from heaven, god- Jisung didn't know what he'd be without him. Ever since they'd debuted he and Minho were practically attached by the hip- it was a buy one get one free deal, one never without the other.

"You're zoning out again? Are you okay?", Minho made that face- the one he does when he's trying to see through someone, trying to understand how they're feeling. 

"I'm fine, Min. Just loud in here, that's all." 

The look he received in response showed him that his friend did not believe him one bit, but before he could get called out for his lie he felt a hand on his shoulder and a very, very tipsy Jeongin stumbled into his line of sight- a dumb, happy grin plastered across his face. "Jisungie! come dance with me and Minnie!" 

He turned his gaze to Minho, who simply put a hand on his arm and smiled softly. "Go have fun for a bit, we're going home soon anyway" 

The pleading look Jeongin was giving him was enough to have him standing up and turning back to his friend with an exasperated sigh. 

Pleased, Minho hugged him and murmured quietly, "I'll come find you in 10, alright?" 

He could feel a "Please don't leave me, I'm tired." begging to leave his lips, but all that came out was-

"Okay." 

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 Pushing through the thick crowd of people, all Minho was thinking about was Jisung's whereabouts. He'd left him to dance with their maknae- promising to come find him in less than 10 minutes.

He'd unintentionally broken that promise after finding himself caught up in a quick chat turned full length conversation with Jungwoo- who he hadn't spoken to in a few months.

That was half an hour ago, now the party was nearing its end. And Minho had no idea where Jisung was.

Shit.

Not only was he struggling to find Han, but his whole group had seemingly vanished.

Why did they leave him? Was it on purpose? Where are they? How will he get home? Are they okay?

A million thoughts were leaping through his head at once, waltzing around his brain and making it dizzy with panic.

A loud voice behind him sliced through his anxiety like warm butter and interrupted his train of thought. 

"Hey, are you okay?" He whipped around to find Mingyu- the leader of this rookie new boy group that was about to debut under JYP- Apo110. Minho had never gotten to know Mingyu or the other members, but he knew that they were kind and had a lot of potential.

"I'm fine, just- have you seen my members? I can't find any of them.." 

Mingyu tilted his head to the side, piercing blue eyes locked onto Minho's brown ones.

"Oh yeah. They just left."

To say that Minho was shocked was an understatement. His members would never do anything like that to him, not even as a joke- they wouldn't dare.

They left me.

The words caught in his throat. They tasted bitter, Minho wanted to throw them back up.

Clearly Mingyu could sense an impending panic attack and stepped forward to ground him. "Hey, it's alright- you can come with me and my group in our van, your members were probably tipsy and made a mistake. It happens."

Right, it couldn't have just been Jeongin that was drunk. They probably left in a hurry to avoid Sasaengs. That had to be the answer. 

"Alright, I'd appreciate the lift Mingyu." 

Mingyu retained eye contact as he smiled wide. 

"Good."

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Jisung had no idea how long he was dancing for, he just knew that Minho should have come and found him by now. Had he lied? Made up an excuse to get rid of him? The alchohol in his system was making it difficult to think, combined with Changbin's arms around him and his off key singing blaring uncomfortably loud right into his ear hole.

He scanned the crowd for Minho. Nothing. 

Time went by and Jisung grew more and more bored with every minute he had to spend at this lame party. 

One by one the members detached from him, telling him they were going to find Minho since the party was nearly over and they had a van outside waiting for them- but each came back empty handed and disappointed. 

Even when the party had completely cleared out there was no sign or trace of his best friend.

Jeongin had passed out.

Chan was panicked.

Felix was pacing back and forth

Hyunjin was sitting and staring at the wall.

Seungmin pretended he was calm, but he was just as panicked as the rest of them.

Changbin was tired and scared.

And Han was squeezing his eyes shut and praying that the possible scenarios he had in his head were not true. He couldn't lose his hyung. Not now. Not ever.

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Apo110's van was cold, dirty and dark. Minho looked between the four other men in the van surrounding him. They were all silent. 

He glanced out of the window, only to see that they were not heading towards the Stray Kids dorms. They were heading away from them.

"Where are we going?"
Mingyu turned from his position in the passenger seat and calmly stated "you don't have to talk if you don't want to."

The pit of dread pooling in his stomach only intensified when he spotted laying on the floor of the van, multiple books about the occult and ritualistic sacrifice. He was not staying in this van any longer. He had to get out.

The man sitting beside Mingyu scoffed "are you even sure he's a virgin, Min?"

What did they want with him? 

Did they want to rape him?

"Yes. I'm- I'm a virgin. I've never even done anything, I don't know how to do it.. so you should find someone who.. does.."

"You owe me a coffee, Tae." The man sitting behind Minho sneered.

Minho began to tear up. He felt so weak, so scared.

As soon as the other men began to pile out of the van, he ran for it, kicking down Tae before being grabbed by Mingyu around his waist. "Where do you think you're going, honey?" he laughed cruelly as Minho screamed and thrashed in his arms, before he felt something pressing into his neck.

And then there was nothing.

Minho opened his eyes to see nothing but the moon staring down at him. In a moment of panic, he began to writhe and scream again, his wrists and ankles burned as they twisted, and he turned to see that they were bound by rope. 

Next to him one of the men was digging- wait- why was he digging?

A familiar figure stepped into his line of sight. Mingyu. 

Despite himself, Minho felt himself crying again. "What's happening? What are you doing??"

Mingyu just sighed, "poor, poor little Lee Know." He knelt down. "Do you know how hard it is to debut as a boy group and actually make it? Of course you don't, because you had it handed to you on a silver platter didn't you?" Tae walked over and handed a box and a piece of paper to Mingyu, who thanked him. "The devil is our only hope, Lee Know" 

They were going to fucking kill him.

For some reason, this enraged Minho more than it scared him.

They were going to sacrifice him. And for what? Fame? Money?

Mingyu opened the box, and pulled out a large, glistening knife that shimmered in the moonlight. 

Minho screamed again, his fear suddenly overpowering the anger that had been building. 

"Please, no, I'll do anything. I'll- I'll sponsor you- we can collab, just please- please-" 

Mingyu looked down at the piece of paper and began to speak. "We are gathered here today to sacrifice the body of Lee Minho."

He sobbed. They were going to murder him and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Mingyu raised the knife, and as it nearly came into contact with Minho's flesh he paused.

Had he changed his mind? Would they let him live?

"I think we should sing a little song for Min Min" Mingyu blurted, his cheshire cat grin spreading impossibly wider. The four men around Minho began to laugh as they horribly sang and danced to S- Class, before the knife was brought down into Minho's chest. Once, twice, three, four times, he didn't know.

The searing hot agony spread throughout his body- it felt like he was being ripped in two by the countless wounds to his chest, belly and neck. 

The last thing he saw was Mingyu's bloody face sneering down at him-

Before the darkness consumed him.

                                                                                                                ★

Jisung was exhausted.

He was in the dorms, alone- as the other members were running around the area like headless chickens trying to find Minho- who still hadn't shown up.

Jisung had been told to stay home after the other members suggested he go to bed to calm his anxiety, but it was far from helping. He wanted to be out there with everyone else looking for his friend. But after a stern look from Chan he agreed to stay.

How could he do this to them?

Or was he hurt? 

Was Minho dead?

He was bought out of his thoughts by a loud clattering noise downstairs, like somebody was trying to get in through the front door. He slowly eased himself down the steps and through the hallway, hands clasped together in a silent prayer that it would be his members and that they would tell him that Minho was fine. 

He watched the door silently swing open.

The members were not there.

It was Minho.

Drenched in blood.

Chapter Text

The members were not there. It was Minho. Drenched in blood.

For a long while, Jisung just stared, horrified.

Minho was caked in crimson from the neck down, dried blood clinging to his clothes and skin- he looked as if he'd came straight out of that one horror movie where the main character had pig blood dumped onto her. 

He didn't move a muscle, his eyes vacant and unfocused- before suddenly charging past Jisung and into the dorms, speedwalking down the hallway to the kitchen.

Jisung found him yanking open the fridge door so hard it nearly came off- and pulling it's contents out, carelessly throwing everything onto the floor.

Was Minho drunk? Was he high? Where was the blood from? Was he bleeding? 

"Minho, stop."

But as he lent down to calm his friend down, Minho let out a deep, warning, growl.

What the fuck?

Before he could say anything else, Minho grabbed the uncooked, raw chicken that they'd saved so that Innie and Seungmin could cook Samgyetang and ripped open the packet, shoveling the raw meat into his mouth. 

Jisung felt naseous, Minho was going to get sick! 

Gently, he tried to pry the chicken from Minho's hands- why were his hands so cold? 

And was met with an inhuman screech.

Jisung was fucking terrified. 

His best friend had gone missing for an hour, came home covered in blood, growled at him like an animal while eating raw chicken, and then screeched at him. 

The two just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence.

"Min-" 

Before the dancer leaned forward and projectile vomited thick black goo all over the floor, and Jisung.

The shit started bubbling and moving.

Retching, he grabbed his phone from his pocket.

"I- I'm calling an ambulance, Minho-"

He was cut off as the other boy shoved him across the kitchen, hard.

Harder than any normal person would be able to.

Catching his breath, he watched as Minho rose to his feet, and stumbled out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.

It wasn't until he heard the bathroom door click shut and the shower switch on did he look around the room at the food scattered around the floor, the black goo and the blood.

Oh god.

Was it Minho's?

How was he going to explain any of this to the rest of the group, when he couldn't even understand it himself?

What had happened to Minho while he was gone?

He felt like he was going to puke, pass out or both, but he needed to clean up this kitchen and fast.

First, he picked up the things Minho had tore out of the fridge and put them back where they belonged, opting to throw away the chicken.

He then took to scrubbing the floor clean of the goo and blood, and then shoving his bloody clothes into the washing machine after changing into his pyjamas.

Exhausted and aching, he picked up his phone and dialed Chan's number, leaning against the kitchen wall and sliding down until he was sitting.

"Jisung? Are you okay?"

His leader's voice brought waves of comfort crashing over his body, and he let out a breath he had no idea he'd been holding.

"I'm fine, hyung. Minho is home."

"He is? Oh my god Jisung, is he okay??"

What was he meant to say? Oh yeah, he walked in covered in blood and then tried to eat raw chicken, then he puked black goo all over the kitchen. He's great.

"He's wasted Chan, I think he must've got lost or something, but I don't know how he found his way back."

"Thank god. We're coming home, Sung, hang tight." His leader's relieved voice rang in from across the line and he closed his eyes, holding in his tears.

"I'll see you later Chan. Bye"

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Jisung woke up the next morning praying that whatever he'd experienced last night was not real, and some insane dream he'd had. 

It was not.

He sat down at the table next to his friends- listening to Jeongin complain about his headache and Felix chastising him, telling it was his own fault for drinking so much alchohol. 

Jeongin looked bad, but nothing could prepare him for seeing Minho.

Minho looked terrible.

His skin was dull, his undereyes dark, his hair like straw and lips cracked.

Hyunjin just laughed it off. "Jeez hyung, how much did you have to drink? Sungie said you were wasted when you came home last night."

Confusion flashed across Minho's features and he locked eyes with Jisung, before it was replaced with understanding, thankfulness. 

"Too much, Jinnie." 

Chan walked over and handed Minho a glass of water and aspirin, smiling softly. 

"For your headache, Min.", earning a mumbled "thanks"

Frowning, Changbin put down his chopsticks and finished his mouthfull, turning to Minho and asking "Hyung? How did you get home last night?"

Minho just played with his food and stared at the table. "I can't remember."

Changbin chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "Didn't realise you were that drunk."

Minho snapped back, "Well I was Changbin, mind your own business." and Changbin's face fell.

Everyone stopped their conversations, and they all turned to Minho, Seungmin speaking up. "Hyung, are you.. okay?" 

"I'm fine." 

Jisung watched as Minho stood up and walked out. "I'm going to get ready for practice."

And with that, he was gone. 

Hyunjin frowned. 

"He didn't even touch his food."

Felix put a hand on his shoulder. "He hasn't been hungover in a long time, he'll be extra grumpy today."

Hyunjin nodded in understanding, sliding Minho's breakfast towards Changbin. "Binnie? Are you still hungry?"

Changbin's previously gloomy face lit up at the question and he nodded, picking his chopsticks back up. 

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Practise lasted hours, and the whole time Jisung was focused on one thing. 

Minho.

Who hadn't said a word to him since the previous night.

Every move they went through, his body was on autopilot, staring at his friend as he danced. 

Though Minho had refused to talk to any of them, Jisung knew he wasn't okay. 

He could see the way Minho's eyes had dimmed and how all of his energy was just.. gone.

Could tell that Minho was struggling with the choreo, he looked weak, fragile, like he'd break if someone pulled him too hard.

After practise, Jisung followed him to the changing rooms and grabbed his hand.

Minho pulled his hand back like he'd been burned.

"Min, are you okay?" 

He watched the way Minho's eyes softened before he took Jisung's hand again. "I'm fine Sungie."

"Last night-"

But Minho cut him off.

"I'm fine."

Chapter Text

To say that Minho felt like shit was a huge understatement. 

Whatever that group of boys had done to him, it had fucked him up bad.

He was in constant pain, his stomach felt like a black hole,so deep and so impossibly empty.

He was starving.

But whatever he ate, it just came straight back up again.

Noodles, soup, toast, rice, even pudding, his favourite thing to eat- had him retching and kneeling over the toilet as it forced its way back up his throat.

It had been 3 days.

3 days since he'd eaten.

3 days since they'd been to that party.

3 days since he'd started avoiding Jisung...

3 days.

3 days since he had been murdered.

Was it murder? He was still here wasn't he? He clearly wasn't dead, if everyone else could see him.

There had been no marks left on his skin, but the agonising pain he felt that night was seared into his mind forever. The feeling of the knife as it slid into him like warm butter.

Over and over again.

He tried to distract himself, laying on his bed and scrolling on his phone- when a post caught his eye.

"JYP boy group Apo110 debuts with record breaking album."

No.

Underneath was a photo of the group, posed together- standing proud on a stage- Mingyu in the centre with that same fucking smile.

Minho sobbed. He switched his phone off and cried into his pillow, absentmindedly wondering what Apo110 would do when they discovered that Minho was still alive. 

Exhausted, Minho closed his eyes, and let sleep take him. 

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He was woken by a knock on his door. Minho had no idea what time it was, but by looking out of his window, he could tell that it was late. Probably some time past 6.

"Min?" 

He sat up to see Jisung step into the room, carrying a plate of food and a glass of water. "Here, you missed dinner." Jisung placed the meal on his desk and shut the door behind him. 

The food smelled divine. What was it?

He forced himself up and walked over towards Jisung, the delicious scent of fresh meat stronger and stronger as he stepped closer. 

It was safe to say he was disappointed when he peered down at the plate and saw that it was just plain rice. 

There was no meat.

But he could smell it so clearly. In fact, it was still here- what the fuck was it that smelled so impossibly good?

The smell was right next to him, and when he turned- he found the exact source of the smell.

It made him want to cry.

The smell was Jisung.

It was Jisung that smelled so mouth watering, so delicious.

His flesh.

The realisation had Minho shaking, with panic and hunger.

He wanted to eat Jisung.

Wanted his pain, his tears and his suffering.

The 3 days of starvation had finally caught up to Minho, his body thinking on its own.

Eat him. Bite his stomach open. You're hungry. You need this.

All he could manage was a pained- "Get out."

Jisung looked hurt, understandably.

"Hyung-"

"GET OUT JISUNG!"

Minho had never yelled at Jisung like that, even when he was the angriest he'd been at him, and the guilt he felt was soul crushing. 

He watched as Jisung's eyes filled with tears, and he silently left.

But he was glad he did, because if Jisung was still in that room then Minho knew he would be dead.

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Silently, Minho walked the empty streets of Seoul, his footsteps echoing on the pavement and his stomach growling.

He knew what he needed. 

It made him feel sick, knowing what he wanted to do, what he was about to do.

Minho wanted to eat people.

Or you'll die. his mind told him

He knew it was right. 

He knew it was right when he quietly stalked his prey, following some poor, unaware man down an alley.

He knew it was right when he grabbed the man and snapped his arm backwards, letting him fall to the ground.

He knew it was right when his jaw unhinged and he bit into the man's stomach, chewing into his organs.

It tasted better than any meal he had ever eaten.

The liver, intestines, gallbladder, spleen, all sliding down his throat felt like heaven on his tongue, the man's blood flowing down his chin and onto the plastic raincoat he had come prepared in.

Minho had always been a messy eater, he didn't care.

With every bite, he could feel his energy, his humanity coming back to him.

He felt amazing. 

As he swallowed the last of his meal, he stood up and slipped his plastic raincoat off and stuffed it into his bag, leaving what was left of the body alone in the alley. 

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Jisung was completely bewildered.

Minho had never yelled at him.

For the past two hours he had been sitting alone in his room, going over the interaction between him and Minho- trying to work out what he did wrong. 

He knew there was something deeply wrong with his friend, ever since that night he'd come home.

He was scared. 

Scared that Minho was keeping something from him.

No, Jisung knew that Minho was keeping things from him.

He just had to find out what it was. 

As if he could sense Jisung thinking about him, Minho opened the door and walked straight into his room. 

"Sung-ah."

He looked up, only to find that this was not the thin, pale, disheveled Minho he had been seeing for the past 3 days, but now a perfectly healthy looking man.

Minho's hair looked perfectly soft, his skin glowing, and his eyebags were nowhere to be seen. 

"I came to apologise for the way I spoke to you earlier, Sungie. I haven't been feeling well lately and I took it out on you. Sorry."

"Hyung.. are you okay?"
"I feel amazing Jisung." 

Minho wasn't even looking at him. He was viewing his own reflection in Jisung's full length mirror.
"I feel amazing.", he repeated, smiling.

Something was wrong, he could feel it gnawing at him, deep in his bones.

Minho looked beautiful. But Jisung had always known that. Minho had always been beautiful.

But here, standing in Jisung's room, he looked perfect. 

Minho smiled again. 

Chapter Text

Minho had never felt better in his life. With his stomach full and his hunger gone, he felt ready in time for their performance.

In the days following his feeding, he thought that maybe he would've felt some guilt about what he had done. But no matter how hard he tried, the same thought always wormed its way into his head- You were hungry. It had to be done.

And now, feeling recharged, Minho couldn't say he felt any remorse. He looked perfect. Felt strong, good.

Chan had been stressing to all of them about how important this performance was, but Minho didn't mind; Chan did this for every performance, and he knew that he'd do good anyway.

So, sat in the dressing rooms as he had his makeup done, he smiled to his reflection in the mirror. Perfect. 

But in the back of his mind sat Jisung. Minho could feel him, every emotion was passed through the invisible string that connected them, and he could feel worry on the other line.

But it's okay.

Jisung doesn't know.

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He does. 

Jisung knows that there is something terribly wrong with his soulmate. 

This was not his Minho.

Same body, same face, same voice, now used as a hollow shell. 

His eyed darted over across the room to where Minho was sitting, having his makeup done.

He was sat, staring at himself in the mirror- smiling. Not a kind smile. Evil.

Something evil had happened to his friend, and his insides were twisting like rope not knowing what it was, what had happened to him that night. 

His heart ached for Minho. 

But they had a stage to be on, and he couldn't fuck this up when they were doing so good. It wasn't worth it.

So when he eight of them stepped into the venue, the fans screaming and the lights harsh in his eyes- he did what he did naturally, and let his body take over.

Before he knew it, the song was over and the crowd was cheering louder, banners held in the air and people waving at him enthusiastically.

He waved back in silence, praying the tear making its way down his cheek would go unnoticed.

                                                                                                                          🍂

Minho grinned widely, breathing heavily as he stood next to Chan, the leader snaking his arm around his shoulder. 

The rush he got right after performing was something he knew would never forget, especially when he knew that he did good.

Everything was perfect.

Until he felt his stomach growl.

Thankfully nobody would hear it over the noise of STAY, but the agony in his midsection that followed had him wincing, taking everything not to double over in pain.

There was no way he was hungry again.

He needed to eat, but it would be ages until their buses would take them home.

And he needed it now.

So after they got off stage he groaned, grabbing his phone from the dressing table and hastily texting one of their staff members, Daeho.

I need you to meet me in the storage closet. It's urgent. 

He knew that the other boys would split off into groups while they winded down after the performance. No one would notice him missing. 

Silently, he waited in the closet for Daeho to arrive, staring intently at the door.

And when Daeho finally walked in, asking politely, "What did you need, Lee Know?" 

He was met with rows of teeth digging into his throat as Minho took his first bite, spitting out the skin in his mouth onto the floor and turning back to the terrified meal in front of him. 

"I'm starving."

Blood poured out of the wound, and Minho desperately lapped up what he could with his tongue as it flowed down Daeho's chest, drinking from him like a water faucet.

It was delicious, and each sip he took gave him new energy, new power.

Daeho didn't last long upright before he collapsed to the ground like a dummy, Minho dropping next to him and burying his face into the man's plush stomach to eat his fill.

This one tasted better than the last.

Greedily, he chewed through the digestive system, teeth slicing through organs easily.

He swallowed the last of the staff member's guts and sat upright, breathing deeply. He was still hungry.

Minho stared down at the mess that was once Daeho, cupping his hands and reaching down to scoop up the blood pooling in what was left of his abdomen.

He slurped it noisily, letting it run down his arms and patter onto the floor.

Once he was done, he stuffed the corpse behind the clothing racks and removed his bloody shirt, mopping up the mess from his hands and the ground.

Satiated, he left the closet and threw on his spare, stuffing his shirt into his backpack under the rest of his things.

Ah, he'll clean it later.

He sighed tiredly, sitting down in his chair and laying his head atop the desk, falling into an easy sleep.

                                                                                                                      🍂

Jisung let out his first genuine laugh since the party, smiling as he watched Jeongin and Seungmin argue pointlessly over who has the better eyelashes.

"No, hyung, mine are longer than yours! Are you guys blind??"
Seungmin grinned. "Mine are a better shape, innie."

I'm starving. 

The words echoed in the back of Jisung's mind, stunning him into silence.

Starving.

He barely registered Jeongin's worried tone and the hand on his shoulder, as he stared past the two to see Minho standing and staring at him, just the same as he was that night. That same dead look in his eyes, the same bloody clothes and dirty face.

Jisung screamed.

"Hyung!"

He was brought back down to earth by Seungmin's worried face and a warm hand on his cheek.

"Sung, what's wrong?? Talk to me."
Jisung couldn't. He collapsed into Jeongin's arms, sobs wracking his body. 

                                                                                                                       🍂

The dorms were quiet. Jisung was alone in his room, having been left there to rest after breaking down in front of the maknaes.

Fuck this.

He got up and made his way to Minho's room, only to find it empty. 

He explored the bedroom, examining all of Minho's belongings- all left tidy and in place, when he made it to his laundry bin. Their laundry had always smelt, but this smell was different. He reached inside, and pulled out a shirt. The one Minho had wore during their performance today.

It was covered in blood.

"Why are you in my room?"

Jisung yelped, dropping the shirt back into the laundry basket to face Minho, who was standing in the doorway, anger radiating off him in waves.

But there was something else amongst it.

Fear.

"Jisung, get out."

This was it, this was his chance.

"No. Not until you explain to me what the fuck happened to you Min."

Minho's eyes narrowed.
"Get. Out."

He took a deep breath.

"I'm telling Chan."

He watched Minho inhale, and point to his bed. 

"Sit down."
And so he did, sitting with his hands on his lap- Minho moving to sit next to him.

Jisung slowly took Minho's hand in his own.

"Talk to me."

Minho shakily exhaled. "That group, Apo110. They're fucking freaks."

In an attempt to comfort him, Jisung squeezed his hand, urging him to continue.

"I couldn't find any of you, their leader told me that you guys had left and that I could get a ride home with them."

Slowly, he recounted the whole night, stopping at the part where he got back to the dorms.

By the end of it, Jisung was crying.

"They killed you."

"I'm still here aren't I?"

Jisung choked back a sob.

"It's okay Sungie, it's sort of cool. Watch this." he watched as Minho picked up a pair of scissors, before plunging it into his forearm, dragging it messily through the skin. He yanked the scissors out and Jisung watched open mouthed as the wound completely healed- as if it had never been there in the first place.

"It's freaky. And when I'm full, I can do all sorts of things."
"When you're full? What does that mean?"

"We're done, Sung." Minho stood up.

That was when it clicked. The blood. The echoes of I'm starving. Minho looking sick, disappearing and looking better again.

"You're eating people."

Minho just turned to look at him, seemingly unbothered.

"I need to."
"Who, Minho? Who did you kill?"

His friend just pulled out his phone and laid back on the pillows.

"Bye, Sungie."

Jisung rose to his feet.

"Fuck you, Minho." 

And walked straight out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Jisung hadn't spoken a word to Minho since their arguement.

Normally he'd say that it's because he's angry, but truthfully Jisung has never been more afraid of a person in his entire life.

Minho had murdered people. Minho had been murdered. 

Not only had he murdered them, but he'd fucking eaten them too.

It was so obvious that Minho didn't feel an ounce of guilt for what he did. Some poor janitor had found one of their staff members, Daeho- disemboweled and stuffed behind the clothes racks at the venue they'd performed at a week ago- rotting.

There was a search for a cannibal in Seoul, after the police had discovered some poor man in the same state down an alley.

He needed to tell someone about this, or Minho would just keep killing people.

So he headed to the library, alone, in search of answers.

And, oh did he find them.

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Later that same night, he found himself carrying his research to Chan's bedroom- he knew he could trust his hyung with this.

"Chan. I have to talk to you."

Chan simply turned from his desk and raised an eyebrow at the pile of books and paper in Jisung's arms.

"Uh.. sure Jisung. What's this?"

He sighed and sat on the bed, motioning for Chan to sit beside him.

"Minho is evil."

To no surprise, Chan laughed. "Oh, I know Sung."

Jisung shook his head. 

"No, hyung. He's evil, not funny evil. I've been through the occult section at the local library five times."

Chan looked utterly bewildered. "The library has an occult section?"

He sighed. "yeah, it's uh- it's really small. Look, you have to read this." 

Reaching down and digging through his research pile, he pulled out the first book and flicked through the pages until he reached the one he needed.

Holding the book up to Chan, he began to read.

"Demonic transference. It's what happens when you try to sacrifice a virgin to Satan, without using an actual virgin. That new group- Apo110, tried to sacrifice Minho in the woods the night of the party, so that their group would become famous. But what they didn't know is that he lost his virginity in highschool. It all makes sense now! Read this."

Moving to the next page, he pointed to a particular paragraph and let Chan lean over to read.

"If the human sacrifice is impure the result may still be attained, but the demon will forever reside in the soul of the victim. They must forever feed on flesh to sustain the demon."

Chan hummed. "Okay?"

Jisung sighed and threw the book down. "He's eating men! They make him like really handsome and glowy, and his hair looks amazing! And then when he's hungry he's weak, and ugly. Well, ugly for him anyway."

The older just stared, in disbelief.

Impatient, Jisung grabbed Chan's shoulder and squeezed. 

"Don't you get it?? The fanmeet! It'll be an all you can eat buffet! We can't go."

Chan just took Jisung's hand, gently prying it from his shoulder. "Hannie, I think you need help."

No way.

"Oh my god. You don't believe me."

Chan raised his hands defensively.

"No, I do believe you.." and then motioned to the pile of books and paper on his bed. "..I just don't believe this."

"God, this is a nightmare!"

Chan frowned. "What about the fanmeet? I'd feel bad cancelling it Jisung." 

"I'd rather it get cancelled than see Minho eating you, hyung." 

Looking down at his feet, Chan took a deep breath. "Get some rest Jisung."

Jisung couldn't believe this. Chan didn't believe him.

They were as good as dead.

He wanted desperately to grab Chan by the shoulders and scream until he was believed, but instead he found himself leaving the room and heading back to bed.

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The fanmeet was in an hour, and Jisung hadn't spoken to Chan either. 

Every once in a while he caught a concerned glance when he looked over, and that was it. 

The eight of them were getting ready, having their makeup done and outfits fitted while their raging fans awaited outside- blissfully unaware that one of them was on their way to being Satan food.

Minho food.

Who was slouched at his table, brushing his hair in silence. Jisung swore he could see clumps of it coming out onto the brush as Minho combed it over his head.

He knew exactly why. Minho hadn't fed for a week, and he was hungry.

STAY was in danger. 

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The fanmeet lasted 2 hours too long. 

And yet Minho kept up his act until the very last minute, being silly with the other members and talking to fans like his stomach wasn't caving in on itself. 

The sight of a hundred warm bodies all packed together in a crowd made his mouth water, and the smell was intoxicating. 

But there was one body that he just had to have. And he was going to get it, no matter what. 

Because now he knew what Minho was. 

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The night was cloudy, silent except for the crunch of leaves under Chan's feet as he walked.

Their fanmeet had ended, and they were given the okay to go home, but Chan was restless and couldn't sleep. It wasn't like he ever could anyway.

The park was empty, as it was nearing 10- this was the only time he could go for walks like this without being mobbed by crazy fans. 

Or it was empty, because up ahead stood a figure dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants- just waiting for him to approach.

How had he not noticed them before?

As he came closer, he was finally able to make out their face.

Minho. 

"Min? What are you doing out here?"

None of the other members were out of the dorms when he left. They were all sleeping.

"Didn't you hear me calling your name?"

That was weird. He hadn't heard anything.

"You.. weren't calling my name."

Minho smiled. "Yes I was."

Chan frowned. "I.. I didn't hear it."

Turning away, Minho put his hands on his hips, beginning to walk away. "Well, I need to talk to you about you-know-who. Our little Sungie."

With no other option, Chan began to follow him. "He's been acting a little off lately."

Minho took his hand. "I don't know what's wrong with him, Chan-ah. But I think he's going a little crazy, don't you think?"

That was one way to put it, with the way that Jisung had so confidently come to Chan to tell him that Minho was a flesh eating demon. 

"I think.. we should talk about this somewhere else."

Nodding, Minho began to walk again. "I know a place near here. Come with me."

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Jisung had woken at 10 pm with his throat drier than Egypt and the biggest headache of his life. 

On his way back to his room from the kitchen, he passed Chan's. 

The door was open an inch.

That's odd, Chan never sleeps without his door properly shut.

Worried, Jisung peered inside only to find the room empty.

Shit.

He hurriedly yanked his phone from his desk where it'd been charging and texted Chan, asking; "Where are you?"

His heart stopped when he recieved a text back that said "On a walk with Minho, we'll be home soon. Don't worry" 

Oh fuck.

Jisung was dressed and out the door in minutes. 

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Chan had no idea why, but Minho had led him to an old, abandoned pool house.

It was dirty, and it smelled horrific.

He didn't dare complain, because as soon as they walked in Minho began to joke and dare him to jump into the water. 

It was the happiest he had seen him in days. 

But that quickly faded after a minute, as he watched Minho slump down to sit by the edge of the pool.

Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground so that they were sitting side by side.

The silence was heavy on his shoulders, until Minho broke it with a small;

"I feel so empty, Chan."

Though he could tell that he'd been suffering, it hurt to hear Minho actually say it out loud.

All he could muster was an equally small "I know, Min."

Minho slowly turned to face him, that dead look in his eyes. 

"Kiss me, Chan. Make me feel better." 

Before he could respond, Minho was leaning forward and pressing his chapped lips to his own soft ones, sighing in contentment as Chan kissed him back. 

It lasted a short moment before he came back to his senses and opened his eyes.

Minho couldn't truly want this, he had to be drunk. 

Placing his hands on Minho's shoulders, he gently parted them.

"We can't do this right now. I'm sorry" 

Silence.

The look on Minho's face was one of confusion, before it morphed into anger as he wrapped his arms around Chan's midsection, before throwing him into the murky water below and diving in after him. 

Chan couldn't breathe. 

Desperately, flailing his arms and legs, pulling himself up to the surface only to have his head roughly shoved back down again.

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Jisung's legs ached from running.

He was tracking Chan's phone as he went, sprinting as fast as he could through the streets and parks.

He would not let Minho eat Chan.

What made it even worse was the fact that Chan being targeted was most likely entirely his fault.

He had told Chan everything. What if Minho had heard what he'd said and that's why he's going after Chan?

An agonised cry for help rang out throughout the trees.

Chan!

He bolted, looking down at his phone as he saw Chan's location approaching. 

It was in a dirty old pool house, overrun by grime and mould. 

Not caring for his now filthy clothes, he crept through a narrow opening in the wall, desperately ripping moss and leaves out of his way.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was met with a sight that would surely stay locked in his mind forever.

He was too late.

Minho had Chan pressed up againt the edge of the pool, and was chewing into his shoulder. 

Like he'd sensed him, Minho turned around and screeched, revealing his disgusting set of razor sharp teeth- and before he could stop himself Jisung was jumping into the pool in between the two.

Watching Minho disappear underneath the water, he turned back to Chan.

He looked bad.

There was blood seeping through his fingers as he weakly held his hand to his neck- trying to stop the bleeding.

"Oh my god, Chan!" 

Leaving him no time to react, Minho shot up out of the water like a bullet- only to be pepper sprayed by Chan. Since when did Chan carry pepper spray?

"OW, FUCK!" 

He recovered in no time, wiping his eyes and beginning to cough and choke. 

Jisung grimaced, he'd seen this before- in their kitchen.

Curling protectively over Chan, he held back the urge to gag as he was showered in that disgusting black goo yet again.

The water shifted as Minho rose into the air, hovering a meter or so above the two. 

Chan groaned, and Jisung could make out a weak "he can fly?"

Despite his aching limbs, he lifted himself up and dragged himself out of the pool, stumbling to his feet.

He rolled his eyes. "He's just levitating, it's not that impressive." 

Minho looked seething. 

"God, Jisung. Do you have to undermine everything that I do?" 

Slowly lowering himself down in front of Jisung, he clenched his jaw and stared.

Jisung coughed. "You're a dick."

"Wow, nice insult Alvin. Got any more harsh digs?"

Shaking his head, he stepped back. "You were never a good friend. When we were trainees you'd always take my things without asking and you'd mess up my choreographyto embarass me."

To his left, he could see Chan slowly making his way out of the pool. 

"And now I'm eating our leader, at least I'm consistent."

Jisung was in disbelief.

"Why do you need him, Minho? You could have anyone that you want, why Chan? Is it just to piss me off?"

Minho said nothing.

"Or is it just because you're really insecure?"

A scoff. 

"Gosh, that's such a joke Jisung. How could I ever be insecure? I am one of the best dancers in the industry, I-"

He was cut off.

"You used to be, a year ago."

"I am still-"

Again.

"And when you didn't need laxatives to stay fit."

"I am going to eat your soul." Minho began to walk towards him, that same infuriated look on his face. 

"And shit. It. OUT! HAN JISUNG!" 

Jisung flinched as Minho lunged towards him, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing for pain.

But it never came, and he opened his eyes to see that Chan had driven a filthy pool cue straight through Minho's abdomen.

The demon groaned, a stream of "ow"s and "ouch"es falling from his lips as he pulled it back out, carelessly throwing it to the ground beside him. 

Bright red blood flowed through Minho's fingers as he clutched the now open wound, swallowing as he made eye contact with Jisung.

"You.. got any tissues?" 

Speechless, he shook his head.

Minho wordlessly nodded and slowly shuffled past him, crawling out one of the wall openings and jumping.

A pained groan brought his attention back to Chan, who was laying on his back by his feet.

Jisung dropped to his knees and cried, taking Chan's head into his hand.

"oh, Chan.."

Despite his agony, Chan smiled up at him, his dimples on full display underneath the blood and grime.

"Sungie. I should have believed you.. I'm sorry.." 

"No, no, listen to me, I'm gonna get some help, okay??" 

He reached into Chan's pocket and pulled his phone out, screaming in anger and hitting it against the pavement when he found it was broken.

"It's not working! It's not fucking working!" 

Chan weakly raised his arm and reached up to cup Jisung's cheek. "Hey, hey.. it's okay. I'm going somewhere.."

Jisung felt as if his lungs were failing on him. 

"No, no, Chan- you're not, you're not going anywhere."

The leader still smiled. "Yes, I am.. I think I already died before you got here." 

Jisung gripped Chan's bloody, cold hand in his own. "I love you."

"I love you too." 

And with that, his head lulled to the side and what life was left in his eyes had gone.

Chan was dead.

Chapter Text

Chan was dead.

Chan was dead, and Minho had killed him.

An agonised cry tore its way from Jisung's throat as he collapsed onto Chan's chest, tears falling freely down his face.

What could they do? What would the others do when they found out about Chan's death?

Grief could tear them apart.

But for Jisung, there was no time to grieve. Minho had to be killed.

This was not his Minho. This was a monster, using his skin. Minho was already dead. 

He had died the night of the party. Minho had been dead for a month, and Jisung had long accepted that.

He had to let Minho rest.

Hurrying back to the dorms in his hoodie and sweatpants- covered in Minho's grime and Chan's blood, he slipped into the shower and threw his clothes into the washing machine.

As he felt the blood being washed away, he clasped a hand to his mouth and sobbed. 

His head was full of Chan. 

Poor, innocent Chan- who'd held them together all these years.

Who was so trusting, that he'd been led to his own death.

And now he was laying dead in that dirty fucking pool house.

Jisung hated himself. It should have been him.

Maybe if he had run faster, noticed they were gone sooner, maybe Chan would be alive. 

But he was gone. and there was nothing he could do. 

Silently, he finished in the shower and dressed himself- holding back his tears. If he started crying now he'd never stop, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake up the rest of the kids. Not with what he was about to do.

He crept to the kitchen and gently flicked the light switch, making his way over to where they kept the utensils- and pulling out a large kitchen knife.

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Minho hadn't slept. He couldn't.

The guilt from what he did to Chan was eating him from the inside out- the little empathy he had left in him was fighting to overpower the hunger.

The hunger.

It was still here.

He didn't even get to feed, and Chan had still died. Died for nothing at all.

So he sat in his room, just rewatching his and Chan's 2Kids room episodes- but it would never bring him back. 

It stung. Stung knowing he would never hear that laugh again, never see that smile. 

And it was all his fault. He'd become a murderer. A monster. 

He turned off his TV, and closed his eyes. 

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Jisung gripped the knife handle tight, his hands sweating oceans from nervousness. 

Slowly, he opened Minho's bedroom door, and looked inside. 

Minho was laid out on his back, asleep. His chest slowly rose and fell, and Jisung could hear his quiet, soft breaths every second or so. So relaxed. 

It made what he was about to do so much more painful.

On the tips of his feet, he crept toward the side of Minho's bed, and raised the knife into the air. 

But before it could be brought down into Minho's chest, a hand shot upwards to grab Jisung's wrist and Minho's eyes opened, dark, empty orbs staring up at him. 

"Soulmates, huh Jisung?" Minho grunted as Jisung's sweaty hands wrapped around his neck tight, attempting to pry them away. 

"You killed Chan, you fucking monster!"

Minho continued to struggle against Jisung's grip, grinning up at him like he wasn't currently being pinned down by the younger. 

"You dumb bastard!-" Jisung was cut short as Minho leaned up and sunk his teeth deep into his right shoulder, screaming and pulling himself up from the demon.

He watched as Minho licked his lips and hummed in satisfaction, and it reminded him of his mission- he grunted, raising the knife again just out of Minho's reach. 

"You know what this is for? Huh? Huh? This is for cutting meat!"

But as he thrust the weapon down towards Minho's face, his wrist was again locked in that iron grip. 

"You got your murder weapon from our fucking kitchen? God, you twink!" 

Jisung paid the comment no mind, sitting upright and wrapping his hand around Minho's neck. He prepared to slash the knife over the man's stomach before they were both lifted up into the air- this bastard was levitating with him on his lap!

With his legs locked around Jisung's, Minho spun them around and grasped at Jisung's throat, squeezing. 

Again, Jisung spun them so he was above Minho, and caught sight of the glimmering necklace resting on his collarbone.

Their matching necklaces. J and M. 

Jisung never wore his anymore. 

He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal, and pulled. The necklace snapped and Jisung watched it fall to the ground, clattering against the wooden floor.

Minho's eyes widened, and Jisung felt their hands brush as Minho dropped- sinking back down onto the bed as Jisung landed on top, his knife plunging into Minho's chest. 

His heart.

Demons are weakest when hungry, but a blow to the heart is a sure way to kill the beast.

Jisung's heart ached as he watched Minho take shallow breaths, the blood from his wound spreading over his chest and throat, soaking the sheets under them.

"Sungie..." 

Minho weakly exhaled for another moment, his eyes still locked onto Jisung's until he eventually fell silent. 

Jisung stared for a minute more, until he heard the gentle flicker of the light turning on, and Hyunjin's soft; "Minho hyung? Are you okay? Jisung?"

He turned, and the two made eye contact until Hyunjin's eyes drifted downwards to Minho's body, a small cry leaving his mouth as he approached.

Yanking the knife out, he let himself collapse next to Minho, the knife falling from his hand and onto the floor.

Jisung stared at the ceiling and listened to Hyunjin's screams, his pleas for Minho to wake up.

Turning his head, he watched as Hyunjin carefully lifted Minho- supporting his head and lifting him into his arms.

Minho looked so peaceful.

He closed his eyes.

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I don't know who Han Jisung is anymore.

I'm a different person now. A person who uses curse words and kicks orderlies and sees things that aren't there.

A very bad, very damaged person.

But sometimes change can be good. For instance, most occult scholars don't know this- but if you're bitten by a demon and you live, you just might absorb some of the demon's abilities.

Jisung smiled as he put down his pen, reaching under his shirt to itch at his bite.

"Just might get lucky for once in your miserable life."

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After Hyunjin had discovered Minho's body, Jisung was immediately arrested and taken in for questioning. 

All he'd told them was that Chan was dead too.

They'd found him in an abandoned pool house, being eaten by rats. Jisung says he's sorry. And that's it.

Stray Kids didn't disband, rather decided to stay together on a hiatus to deal with their grief. Changbin is a good leader.

Two members dead, and one locked up in a mental institution for life. A tragedy, the media called it.

Hyunjin misses them. He misses Chan's comfort. He misses Minho's playfulness. He hopes that they're resting easy.

He never wants to see Jisung again, and he knows that he won't.

Currently, Han Jisung's face is all over the news. News about how he murdered his two bandmates, and a staff member.

They're calling him a cannibal, mentally ill. A demented lunatic.

The fans were distraught, memorials being made all over the world. Chan's funeral was yesterday, Minho's the day before.

Han merch was burned, stomped on, ruined and thrown in the trash. Some tried to resell, but nobody wanted it. 

Even Woojin had reached out to give his condolences. JYP too. 

Hyunjin just wants his friends back. Stray kids is 8. Not 5. 

Sighing, he reached over to touch the photo sitting on his desk. A framed picture of Minho and Chan, smiling like happy idiots. 

"Night Channie, Night Min." 

Wait for me.

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Running through the trees, Jisung didn't dare to look back at the institution.

He'd made his escape, and now he had one more thing to do. One more misson.

He didn't care what happened to him after this, it had to be done. 

Eventually he was walking the familiar streets of Seoul again, as the stars stared down at him, knowing.

He walked until he was on the outskirts of the city, surely they were searching for him now. 

Jisung didn't care.

He walked along the roads until he spotted a car approaching, holding out his arm and waving for the driver to stop.

When it did, the window was rolled down and an old man peered back at him. 

"Where you lookin to go, young man?" 

"Southeast, to Busan."  

The man smiled. "Well hop in my chariot." 

Rolling his eyes, Jisung opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

"Why you going to Busan?"

Jisung scratched the bite on his shoulder.

"I'm following this boy group."

The guy scoffed. "They must be pretty big, huh?"

Jisung stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"Tonight is their last show."