Shadows In The Ashes

Ahh Jungkook is soo hot 🥵 🥵 🔥 🔥
To those who say BTS look like girls.
I had sent this pic to her and she never replied back
#slapintheface
.
.
.
.
.
.

Anyways let's start the story.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The vision of his own face staring back at him from the cliffside haunted Jeon Jungkook long after he returned to the manor. He barely remembered making his way through the cold night, his mind stuck on the image—his own features mirrored in the ghostly figure.

Sleep was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the wind-tossed figure, the way it had turned toward him as if recognizing him. As if it had been waiting for him.

By dawn, exhaustion pulled at his limbs, but he forced himself out of bed. Answers wouldn’t come to him in dreams. If he wanted to understand, he had to dig deeper.

And that meant confronting Kim Taehyung.

---

Jungkook found Taehyung in the study, leaning against the massive bookshelf, flipping idly through one of the old letters from the chest. He didn’t look up as Jungkook entered.

“You didn’t sleep,” Taehyung said, his voice smooth but unreadable.

Jungkook didn’t bother denying it. “Neither did you.”

Taehyung smirked faintly and folded the letter, slipping it back into the chest. “I take it you saw something.”

Jungkook hesitated, then decided there was no point in holding back. “Near the cliffs. There was a figure. I thought—” He swallowed hard. “I thought it was Minjun.”

That made Taehyung look up. His sharp gaze searched Jungkook’s face, as if measuring the truth in his words. “But it wasn’t, was it?”

Jungkook shook his head. “No. It was me.”

Silence filled the space between them, thick and charged.

Taehyung exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. “It’s worse than I thought.”

Jungkook tensed. “You knew something like this would happen?”

“I suspected.” Taehyung walked past him, staring out the window, his expression dark. “Minjun always said the past leaves echoes behind. That the things we bury don’t stay buried forever. I thought I could protect you from it.”

Jungkook’s pulse quickened. “Protect me from what?”

Taehyung turned back to face him. “From him. From whatever is trying to pull you into his fate.”

---

Jungkook clenched his fists. “I don’t need riddles, Taehyung. I need the truth.”

Taehyung studied him for a long moment, then moved to the desk. He opened a drawer, retrieving an old, leather-bound journal. Its spine was cracked, the pages yellowed with age.

“This belonged to Minjun.” Taehyung handed it to Jungkook. “If you want the truth, start here.”

Jungkook took the journal, hesitating for only a second before opening it. The first page was scrawled with Minjun’s handwriting.

"To those who follow in my steps—beware. The shadows watch. And they remember."

Jungkook’s throat went dry. He flipped through the pages, scanning the hurried, almost frantic writing.

There were sketches of the manor, of the cliffs, of things lurking in the darkness—things that didn’t belong in the waking world. And there were more warnings.

“I hear my own voice calling me at night. But it is not me.”

“The painting is more than a memory. It is a door.”

“If I disappear, do not follow.”

A chill ran down Jungkook’s spine.

“What happened to him, Taehyung?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung exhaled, his fingers tracing the edge of the desk. “Minjun was obsessed with uncovering the secrets of this place. He believed the painting was the key. He spent years trying to understand it.”

Jungkook nodded. “And then he vanished.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”

Jungkook glanced down at the journal again, flipping to the final entry. The handwriting was more erratic here, as if Minjun had been in a rush.

"I see him now. The one wearing my face."

"It whispers to me from the cliffs."

"I think I finally understand. But it’s too late."

The entry ended there.

Jungkook felt his heart pounding against his ribs.

“He saw it too,” he murmured. “The figure. The one that looks like me.”

Taehyung’s eyes darkened. “It’s not you, Jungkook. It never was.”

---

That night, Jungkook couldn’t shake the weight of the journal’s words. He stayed in the west wing, reading until his eyes burned, trying to make sense of Minjun’s last thoughts.

At some point, exhaustion overtook him, and he dozed off at the desk.

A sound woke him.

At first, he thought it was the wind. A distant murmur, barely there.

Then he heard it again.

A voice.

Soft, calling from the hallway.

"Jungkook."

His blood ran cold.

He turned slowly, his breath caught in his throat.

The door was slightly open. The hallway beyond was dark.

The voice came again. Closer.

"Come."

Jungkook stood, heart hammering. Every instinct screamed at him to stay put, but his body moved on its own, drawn forward.

He stepped into the hallway.

And the candlelight flickered, revealing a shadow at the end of the corridor.

A figure standing just beyond the reach of the light.

Watching.

Waiting.

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

Then the figure stepped forward.

And he saw his own face staring back at him.

A perfect reflection—except for the eyes.

The eyes weren’t his.

They were hollow. Endless.

And they were smiling.

---

Jungkook stumbled back, his mind reeling. But before he could react, the figure whispered something.

A single phrase that sent ice through his veins.

"You were never meant to leave."

The candles flickered out.

Darkness swallowed everything.

And the last thing Jungkook heard was the sound of footsteps—moving toward him.