Genre: werewolf!au, angst, mystery (lol kinda)
Pairings: taehyung x reader
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: You must run away, as fast as you possibly can. But in that very moment a gust of wind blowing in from seemingly nowhere causes the curtains drawn close on the tiny window to flutter wildly, illuminating the room with a tinge of sunlight that streams in. And that’s when you see him.
Warnings: mentions of blood
prologue, pt. 1
Your mother had found you collapsed at the top of the staircase.
You wake up to the feeling of the soft duvet on top of you and the worry and relief in your mother’s eyes. For a moment you feel almost a bit too disoriented to recall the string of events which had gotten you here. However, your blissful ignorance does not last too long as the memories come flooding back to you all at once. The fear feels raw and fresh in your bones at the mere thought of, well, ’it’. The menacing pair of dark eyes gleaming with a razor like sharpness, the rumbling of the low growls erupting from deep within its chest. A man, a beast, a nightmare. You found both, the reality and falsehood inseparable in your head.
“Y/N, Oh my God, I was so worried. Don’t you dare die on me like that again.” The panic in your mother’s voice grew progressively, until her words were literally coming out all rushed and jumbled up. “Just what happened? Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Close to tears she plopped down at the foot of your bed, running a hand over her tired face. And suddenly you could no longer bring yourself to tell her the truth.
Some wicked shadow of a possible ghost suddenly zapped up out of nowhere and the poor faint hearted me passed out at the sight of it. There is a possibility the house is possessed, Mom and all those horror movies are actually true. Now my soul is in danger. It sounded so absurd in your head that for a moment, even you doubted yourself. Before you knew it a lie that sounded way more close to the truth fell out of your lips. “I think… I might’ve fainted out of exhaustion. I hadn’t really eaten all day. Sorry, I made you worry.”
She did not for a second doubt your mumbled explanation, and that moment had you wanting to believe in your own lie.
The coming few weeks are nothing short a literal hell. A hell you’d crafted carefully with your own over active imagination and hyper alert senses. You jump like a scared cat at the slightest of sounds and the slightest of shifts in the air. Your own heart beat feels a bit too loud in the ever silent misery of your new home. However when weeks tuned into a month, without any menacing dark shadows lingering around you, or anything even remotely poltergeist, you somehow force yourself to find a way to lock up that incident from days back and the paranoia that came with it in a little box which you then carefully hid away somewhere in the back of your mind. Maybe it had been a hallucination, a trick played by your own exhausted mind on you, after all.
Your mother worked a hectic shift which usually required her to be gone all day. You constantly found yourself worried about her health when day after day she kept working herself down to the bones. “I’m fine Y/N. As strong as ever.” She would tell you with a small smile and even though the dark shadows lining her eyes would tell you a story otherwise, you never pushed it.
Alone and with nowhere to go, the days felt too long with nothing much to fill in the long uneventful hours. You took care of the house hold chores almost a bit too enthusiastically as they provided you with your much needed distractions. You wanted to be optimistic about this whole situation but the coming months felt daunting when not even a single day passed without dragging on lethargically. It was all too quiet, too tranquil. Your days were caught up in a vacuum. However, even though you had failed to notice any of it, the silence was growing louder by the minute and sooner rather than later you would come to realize that what you once thought was a tranquil nothingness, is no longer as empty or peaceful as it had first seemed.
On one early Thursday morning, you wake up feeling a strange wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. A foul smell invades your nostrils so overwhelming that you almost gag. It smells like something rotten and decaying. You furrow your eyebrows in puzzlement, you had been thorough with your housemaid duties, disinfecting and bleaching almost every surface in sight every single day without fail. There was no way you could have missed-wait!… the storage room.
You had never really been in there, never bothering to explore that particular end of the house for some reason. As your mother had explained it, it was a little room which held a few of the broken items and old furniture belonging to the tenants who had lived here previously. You sighed covering the half of your face with your t-shirt as you sauntered down the hallway, grabbing the bunch of house keys which held the one to the store as well, on your way.
You had no explanation as to why fear was once again starting to cloud your mind and your feet felt as if they were made of lead. The sickening stench continued to go stronger the closer you got to the store’s door which stood closed at the end of the hallway a good few paces from your bedroom. The urge to just hurl out the contents of your empty stomach was desperately real. This was when your muddled memories of that one eerie evening from several weeks ago began escaping it’s rightful place from the little cage you had tucked them away in, as you stood in front of the door, trying to muster up the courage you needed to push it open. Fumbling around trying to find the key in its bunch you battled the inner conflict where your brain chided you, mocked at you for being such a coward while your entire body and soul wanted to just flee and never come back.
Wow so what were you now? A paranoid lunatic?
With that you pushed the door open and the excruciating whiff of burnt flesh and blood almost had you crumbling in an instant. You blinked away the tears which were beginning to form in your eyes and you frantically searched the dimly lit room for the source the smell. A rat it had to be a dead rat. But when your eyes did adjust to the dull lighting of the room, terror began to claw its way out and dread tore apart every bit of composure you had been holding on to.
There was a pool of coagulating blood on the floor, and the red was smeared on one of the walls resembling the vague shape of handprints. Over your own loud and shallow breaths, you could hear someone else's ragged and unsteady breathing. You were frozen at your spot unable to speculate, unable to make a decision. You were all alone, unarmed, the closest neighbours a mile away. Screaming your lungs out would be a pathetic failed attempt at survival.
"W-who are you?“ You stammered, not expecting an answer and surely enough you did not get one. You took a tentative step forward red flags going up in your head. You must run away, as fast as you possibly can. But in that very moment a gust of wind blowing in, from seemingly nowhere, cause the curtains which were drawn close on the tiny window to flutter wildly, illuminating the room with a tinge of sunlight that streams in and that’s when you see him.
The blood curdling scream you let out in that moment could have been loud enough to split the skies apart.
Your visions blurry and the pumping of your heart is so hard that it almost hurts. You are breathless and petrified, a deer in front of headlights.
He sits crouched in one of the corners, his head in between his knees. His silhouette trembles with every breath of his and a low guttural groan rips out of his chest. You snatch the curtains open immediately and your gaze flits downwards landing on the blood covered shreds of the once grey t-shirt he wore, which is now a gruesome shade of crimson. There is so much blood, on his torso, on his hands, his cheeks, you feel light headed just at the sight of it.
“Help me, just this once” his voice is a faint whisper, but his desperation rings loud and clear in the silent room.
Rationality and common sense are long forgotten as you rush to grab a first aid kit, a couple wet towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol from your bathroom. You were nowhere near competent when it came to first aid, the only bits being the things you had learnt watching Grey’s Anatomy and other medical sitcoms. You were sure that the boy and the bloody mess he was in required more than just your superficial knowledge of healing.
It was hard to keep the disgust and queasiness off your face when within seconds your own hands and clothes were splattered and smudged with his blood. Every time you pressed the wet towel onto his wounds he jolted under the ministrations of your hesitant and trembling hands. The bleeding continued incessantly and within moments the towels would begin to drip with the gushing red liquid.
“I can’t do this. I-I don’t think I can help you. I should call the police, the ambula-” Your own shriek stops you mid-sentence as the boy in front of you, roughly grabs your face with his large bloodied hand, forcing you to look at him directly. “Don’t. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me stay here for a while. I’ll be fine.” Contrary to his actions his words were barely pained whispers as he begged you to let him be. He lets go of your face and you sigh out in relief. “But-” He groans in frustration at you and you swallow your own words but as if he had read your mind, he answers that one thing which was constantly eating you from the inside out. “I do not have any intentions of harming you. You don’t have to be afraid of me. Look, I’ll leave right now if you want but just don’t call anyone, okay?” You had absolutely no reason to take seriously the words falling out of this stranger’s mouth. A con artist, a sweet talking rogue, a psychopathic cold blooded killer, he could be anything and everything gravely dangerous.
Your faces were inches apart and you peered up at him through your lashes. He seemed to be a boy around your age, perhaps a bit older. His eyes were sealed shut and his face contorted in pain. His lips were chapped and drained of color, parted slightly as he let out short puffs of breath trying to hold on to whatever bit of composure that remained keeping him from screaming out in agony.Maybe you were about to make the mistake of a lifetime, a stupidity that could cost you your life, and perhaps even your mother’s. Maybe he was nothing but a beautiful nightmare, a beast with a seraphic face, and maybe falling for his deceptive innocence was going to be your biggest mistake yet.
"So I just watch you bleed to death?“ the corners of his lips quirk up and a ghost of a smile plays on his lips. “Yes” he replies “You do exactly that.“
The hands of the clock race against each other at a frightening pace as the day flies by in a blink. Soon the fading sunset blends into the incoming night filling the little room with nothing but darkness once again. He does not look up at you even once in all those hours you spend sitting a few inches away from him on the floor, too afraid to move, too afraid to let him out of your sight. The slight rise and fall of his chest are the only indications of him still being alive but other than that he remains completely still. Your gaze wanders to the little window, the curtains fluttering around wildly at even the slightest touch of the winds. When the adrenaline has vanished from your blood stream, you can finally assess the damage of all the stupid impulsive decisions you’ve made ever since you discovered the injured intruder in your store.
The events from a month back return to you in vivid details and you shudder. Looking at the broken boy in front of you, it is hard to put together any analogies between the two events, between the two intruders. Even though he sits crouched up the way he does, the boy’s face is finally peaceful like a child’s. He appears to be too lean, too… human and harmless, much unlike the burly shadow and its looming and intimidating presence, from your previous unfortunate encounter. There was something predatory in its stance and something venomous in its aura, traits the boy deep in his slumber clearly lacked.
You stand up, suppressing your groans as your legs feel like a thousand pin pricks. You needed to clean up the bloody mess the room was in. It takes almost an hour for you to get rid of the stains which seemed to have engrained themselves into the tiny ridges of the floor’s ageing wood. Finally when the sting of bleach and disinfectant is way stronger than that of the metallic scent of blood which continues to faintly linger in the air you hear your mother’s car pull up in the driveway.
You pretended like not a thing had changed in this entire universe during these past 24 hours, like you had not just given an intruder, a possible murderer shelter under the roof of your own house just because you felt sorry for the injured criminal. How were you supposed to explain to her the reason why you could not bring yourself to dial 911.
After serving dinner and catching up with your mother over it like any other day, you stayed up that night, pacing the hallway while your mother snored softly, sleeping peacefully in her own bedroom. Trying not to make any unnecessary sounds, you tiptoed to checked up on him twice, getting him a bottle of drinking water and changing his soiled towel for a fresh one. He looked too weak, too pale and your heart yearned for him to get better. Maybe you should have, afterall called an ambulance. But then his desperate plea echoes in your mind so you just stand at the crossroads unable to make a sensible decision, finally just choosing to go along with the wishes of the complete stranger.
If anything was to go wrong that night, no one but you, yourself would be the one to blame.
Morning comes when you are far too gone, deep asleep slumped in a chair close to your bed. You jolt awake when you hear a loud thump, like a heavy bag of sand falling loudly onto the wet ground. Apprehension causes you to bolt straight towards your mother's bedroom before you yank the door open. She’s still asleep, breathing and snoring under the covers, unharmed and you almost cry out with relief.
Tip toeing, you head towards the store, almost not wanting to go in. You felt shaken up and unprepared, unsure as to what awaited you in the other side of the door. A lake of blood? A dead man? Gathering every ounce of courage you make your way in.
The curtains continue to flutter wildly, almost with a kind of desperation. As if they were dying to tell you the many secrets only they knew of.
The boy was nowhere to be seen, and the cramped up space suddenly feels too huge without him in it.
a/n- my updates are tragically slow n I’m forever sorry about my lack of motivation. I’ll try my best to post more frequently! thank you for sticking around :) feedbacks are welcomed *howls like a werewolf* *sounds more like a puppy* whoops.