Shadows In The Ashes

Jungkook gasped for air.

His chest heaved as if he had been drowning, his lungs burning as he clawed back to reality. The studio spun around him, shapes warping as he struggled to focus.

Taehyung’s hands gripped his shoulders.

“Jungkook,” he said urgently. “Breathe.”

Jungkook dragged in a shaky breath. His body still felt wrong—like he wasn’t fully here. His fingers trembled as he looked down at himself, half-expecting to see shadowy tendrils still clinging to his skin.

But there was nothing.

He was back.

The painting lay shattered before him, the torn canvas revealing nothing but darkness beneath. Minjun’s image had disappeared completely.

But that wasn’t what made Jungkook’s stomach twist.

It was the silence.

The shadows were gone. The whispers had vanished.

And yet—something was off.

The air was too still.

Like something had shifted.

Like something had left with him.

--

Taehyung exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell happened?”

Jungkook swallowed, his throat dry. “I—I was inside. Minjun was there.”

Taehyung’s eyes darkened. “Did you get him out?”

Jungkook hesitated. His mind replayed the last thing Minjun had said, his voice layered with something inhuman.

“It’s not just me in here.”

Jungkook’s stomach churned.

Minjun was still in there.

But was he even still Minjun?

Before he could answer, the room groaned.

Jungkook and Taehyung both tensed.

The floorboards beneath them shuddered. The windowpanes rattled in their frames.

And then—

A sharp knock echoed through the manor.

Slow. Deliberate.

Jungkook and Taehyung froze.

The sound came again.

A knock on the front door.

At three in the morning.

---

Neither of them moved.

The knock came again.

Louder. Insistent.

Taehyung shot Jungkook a glance. His face was unreadable, but Jungkook could feel the tension radiating off him.

Jungkook licked his lips. “Who the hell would be here at this hour?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into the drawer of a nearby desk, pulling out a rusted iron dagger.

Jungkook blinked. “Do I even want to know why you have that?”

Taehyung ignored him, striding toward the door.

The knocking had stopped.

But someone was still there.

Jungkook followed cautiously, his heartbeat heavy in his ears. They reached the entrance, the old wooden door standing between them and whoever was on the other side.

Taehyung took a breath and unlocked it.

Then—he pulled the door open.

The hallway beyond was empty.

Jungkook exhaled. “No one’s there.”

Then he looked down—

And his breath caught.

A box sat on the doorstep.

Plain. Small. Wrapped in black silk.

No name. No address.

But something inside Jungkook knew.

This was meant for them.

---

Taehyung crouched down, eyeing the box warily.

“Don’t touch it,” Jungkook blurted.

Taehyung paused. “Why?”

Jungkook didn’t know. But every instinct in his body screamed that this—whatever this was—was dangerous.

Taehyung exhaled. Then, carefully, he reached out and pulled at the silk.

The cloth fell away.

The box creaked open.

And inside—

Was a single, silver ring.

And a note.

Jungkook’s pulse spiked.

Taehyung picked up the note and unfolded it. His fingers tightened around the paper.

He read it out loud:

“A piece of him made it out. And now he’s waiting.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped.

He stared at the silver ring, the metal glinting under the dim hallway light.

He recognized it.

It was Minjun’s.

And that meant—

Minjun wasn’t just inside the painting anymore.

A part of him was here.

---

Jungkook took a step back, his breath shallow. “This isn’t right.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “No. It’s not.”

Because if part of Minjun had escaped…

Then what else had?

The manor’s candles flickered.

A door upstairs creaked open.

And from the darkness—

Something breathed.