Salvation
Title: Salvation
Characters: Jimin & Suga
Rating: PG13
WC: 1657
Summary: “Where the hell have you been,” Yoongi states rather than ask, not only because Jimin has disappeared for days, but because the deep purple bags under his eyes, that contrast with his even paler skin, and the slightly manic look in his eyes are concerning.
A/N: nth attempt at reawakening the muse by revamping another one of my bandom fics. Based on this creepypasta, this time I gave it a--vague--Korean setting, without naming any place in particular unlike the original ‘pasta.
AO3 || AFF
Yoongi hasn’t seen nor heard from Jimin in a while: he’s pretty perplexed when said friend calls him, asking to meet as soon as possible at their usual secluded coffee shop.
“Yoongi hyung!” Jimin greets cheerfully from the boot he’s sitting at, turning at the noise of the door chime.
“Where the hell have you been,” Yoongi states rather than ask, not only because Jimin has disappeared for days, but because the deep purple bags under his eyes, that contrast with his even paler skin, and the slightly manic look in his eyes are concerning.
Jimin’s smile dims in a serious frown, and with a sigh he invites Yoongi to sit down.
“Wanna order?” a bored looking waiter with a 5 o’clock shadow approaches their table while chewing on a toothpick, his loyal notepad firm in his hand.
“Two strong coffees, please” Jimin orders quickly. They wait in silence for the man to come back, not wanting more interruptions. Yoongi absentmindedly plucks the dirt from under his nails.
“Here you are,” the waiter sets down two tall paper cups and heads to the backroom.
“Fucking dirty water,” Yoongi mumbles at the first sip of coffee; Jimin nods in agreement after a brief glance at the older male, preferring to resume staring at a dirt stain on the opposite corner of the table.
“Okay, now explain,” Yoongi urges, once it appeared clear Jimin preferred stalling. It’s atypical of the younger male to disappear for a whole week without previous notice, or not to pester Yoongi with texts almost every hour.
Jimin takes a long breath before deciding to speak. “You won’t believe me,” he eventually declares, looking both dejected and hurt.
“Try me,” Yoongi says, grimacing after another taste of coffee.
Jimin sighs, “…I went up north, near the border. There’s a hotel where… Well, they suggested me to go there, and I did, you know how curious I am. The night I got there, the guard completely ignored me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off him-“
“Hot guy?” Yoongi asks with a smirk.
Jimin shakes his head vehemently, “I could tell he was young, but his hair was completely white, he was as pale as death and looked scared shitless.”
Yoongi stares at him impassively. Jimin continues to recount what happened.
“When he left for his patrol, I followed him before he opened an old door and let me in, leaving me alone in a long hallway with many doors. I was starting to piss my pants, no joke. At the end of the hallway there was a living room and I barely held back from screaming when I saw four burnt people facing the corners of the room, sitting on the floor with their heads propped on their bent legs, and fingers chewed to the bones. In the center of the room there was a rather young woman sitting on a reclining chair, and a coffee table; I didn’t dare to touch the food on it, but paced the room trying to stay as far away as possible from those…creatures. When I went to the window, I thought I could check on my car parked outside in the mostly empty parking lot, but instead…it was daytime, the sun looked very close and there was fire on the horizon. There was nothing around but crumbling buildings and other burnt creatures shuffling around. I quickly ducked because I didn’t want them to notice me, even if they didn’t seem to have eyes at all, I preferred not to risk it.
“I finally decided to talk to the woman, who after a while woke up and gave me a key. Now things get serious,” Jimin declares leaning forward on the table, “When I got the key the creatures started waking up as well, their groans sickening. I bolted outta the room, dude, I didn’t want to be killed! I used the key on this one door I noticed in the hallway and guess what? I ended right outside my own house! And if that wasn’t enough, when I later checked the phone, I found a shit-ton of calls and texts that I received in the span of a whole week. How is that possible? My stay would have been only a matter of a couple of days, the time to drive up there and back, but I have this hole of seven days when I remained at the hotel for an hour or two, tops.”
Jimin finishes his story, looking still on edge after narrating what he witnessed.
Yoongi stares back at him. You can’t never tell when he’s nervous or scared, with Min Yoongi. His eyes look a bit bigger, though.
“If you trust me, you should go as well, you’ll have your ass saved in the end,” the younger guy tells him in earnest, “Here, I’ll write you the address and exactly what to do once you’re there.”
Jimin fetches a paper napkin and scribbles rapidly on it. When he hands it to Yoongi, Jimin starts explaining what he just wrote along with his friend reading the notes.
“Go at night and ring the doorbell: if they let you in, you have to be sure the guard is the one I saw, or return another day--don’t worry, they don’t all have white hair, as fair as I know. If the guard is the right one, sit beside his desk and wait for 2:52 AM for his patrol. Follow him, and take a good look at the key he’ll use to open the old door to room 512, on the fifth floor. Close your eyes before entering and open them only when you hear the door closing! You don’t want to see what’s in there…As I told you before, you’ll end in this long hallway, but only one door has been splashed with paint. Ah! You’ll feel like melting, but bear with the warmth in there, you can’t do anything about it anyway.
“Once you reach the living room, don’t immediately wake the woman up, take your time to collect your thoughts or eat, if you’re so daring. When you feel ready to talk to the her, say, “Save me, Mother, please”, wait for her to wake up and hope she’ll give you the key that the guard used right away, otherwise you’ll have to give her an offer: you’ll receive a blood stained knife to cut up to four fingers, one at a time, it depends how long it’ll take for her to finally give you the right key. Grab it and run like hell, before the things at the corners fully wake up and slaughter you. Open the marked door and get ready to give explanations to your friends for a whole week of radio silence.”
Jimin leans closer, whispering conspiratorially.
“One day, an old door labeled ‘777’ will appear wherever you are: you have to open it with the key you used to escape the hotel and that you’ll have to always keep with you. Leave your family and friends behind. I don’t know where it leads to, but something bad will happen to this world and you’ll find salvation behind that door.”
Yoongi glances between the napkin and Jimin, trying to find that glint in his eyes or that quirk of his lips that means he’s feeding you with a truckload of bullshit, but Jimin’s face is totally sincere, sad and worried. This situation is batshit crazy, though: it sounds like Jimin discovered the faith in God and was now disclosing the way to escape the Apocalypse or whatever.
“…And who told you about this, uhm, ritual?” the older male asks when he regains his voice, putting the piece of paper on the table.
“Taehyung.”
Yoongi’s shoulders slump as he looks at Jimin with renovated skepticism, regretting to have almost believed him.
“He was right, man!” Jimin exclaims, then sighs because he knows Taehyung isn’t well known for being a reliable source with his frequent pranks and whatnot, and this story is totally fucked up, he can’t blame Yoongi for not believing him.
“Ok, if you don’t believe me it’s fine, I won’t force you, it’s totally understandable…but I’ll pray for you to take my advice and go to the hotel. I hope to see you on the other side of the door, Min Suga.”
He stands up. “Oh, by the way, I saw a young woman, but Taehyung mentioned an old hag, so I assume she changes appearance every time. And don’t eat the pie, or you won’t be able to run away from those monsters!”
Jimin leaves, waving a hand in goodbye and looking relatively chipper, in comparison to the rest of their meeting.
Yoongi notices Jimin has a pinkie missing.
Yoongi slides down his apartment door, breathing heavily: that little girl looked cute, but she had some powerful and malicious aura that almost petrified him. He doesn’t want to remember the burnt creatures that guarded her, he doesn’t want to think about how their red muscles were visible for the lack of skin, not to mention their empty sockets that he saw in passing but that still made him sick.
Cautiously, Yoongi peeks through the door, relieved to see the minimalistic furnishing of his place instead of the Hotel from Hell he just escaped from. Ignoring the blinking signal of the answering machine, he calls Seokjin, profusely apologizing when his friend’s hysteric shrieks allow him, and invites him over to talk.
‘777’, the battered door reads.
It’s been over a month since Yoongi last saw Jimin, so he assumes his friend has entered this same door, like he explained that memorable day many years ago.
Yoongi fishes the bronzed key he got -without losing any finger- from the inner pocket of his jacket and inserts it in the keyhole.
He hopes to see Jimin again, and Taehyung as well, and to meet with Seokjin soon.
He turns the key.
Characters: Jimin & Suga
Rating: PG13
WC: 1657
Summary: “Where the hell have you been,” Yoongi states rather than ask, not only because Jimin has disappeared for days, but because the deep purple bags under his eyes, that contrast with his even paler skin, and the slightly manic look in his eyes are concerning.
A/N: nth attempt at reawakening the muse by revamping another one of my bandom fics. Based on this creepypasta, this time I gave it a--vague--Korean setting, without naming any place in particular unlike the original ‘pasta.
AO3 || AFF
Yoongi hasn’t seen nor heard from Jimin in a while: he’s pretty perplexed when said friend calls him, asking to meet as soon as possible at their usual secluded coffee shop.
“Yoongi hyung!” Jimin greets cheerfully from the boot he’s sitting at, turning at the noise of the door chime.
“Where the hell have you been,” Yoongi states rather than ask, not only because Jimin has disappeared for days, but because the deep purple bags under his eyes, that contrast with his even paler skin, and the slightly manic look in his eyes are concerning.
Jimin’s smile dims in a serious frown, and with a sigh he invites Yoongi to sit down.
“Wanna order?” a bored looking waiter with a 5 o’clock shadow approaches their table while chewing on a toothpick, his loyal notepad firm in his hand.
“Two strong coffees, please” Jimin orders quickly. They wait in silence for the man to come back, not wanting more interruptions. Yoongi absentmindedly plucks the dirt from under his nails.
“Here you are,” the waiter sets down two tall paper cups and heads to the backroom.
“Fucking dirty water,” Yoongi mumbles at the first sip of coffee; Jimin nods in agreement after a brief glance at the older male, preferring to resume staring at a dirt stain on the opposite corner of the table.
“Okay, now explain,” Yoongi urges, once it appeared clear Jimin preferred stalling. It’s atypical of the younger male to disappear for a whole week without previous notice, or not to pester Yoongi with texts almost every hour.
Jimin takes a long breath before deciding to speak. “You won’t believe me,” he eventually declares, looking both dejected and hurt.
“Try me,” Yoongi says, grimacing after another taste of coffee.
Jimin sighs, “…I went up north, near the border. There’s a hotel where… Well, they suggested me to go there, and I did, you know how curious I am. The night I got there, the guard completely ignored me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off him-“
“Hot guy?” Yoongi asks with a smirk.
Jimin shakes his head vehemently, “I could tell he was young, but his hair was completely white, he was as pale as death and looked scared shitless.”
Yoongi stares at him impassively. Jimin continues to recount what happened.
“When he left for his patrol, I followed him before he opened an old door and let me in, leaving me alone in a long hallway with many doors. I was starting to piss my pants, no joke. At the end of the hallway there was a living room and I barely held back from screaming when I saw four burnt people facing the corners of the room, sitting on the floor with their heads propped on their bent legs, and fingers chewed to the bones. In the center of the room there was a rather young woman sitting on a reclining chair, and a coffee table; I didn’t dare to touch the food on it, but paced the room trying to stay as far away as possible from those…creatures. When I went to the window, I thought I could check on my car parked outside in the mostly empty parking lot, but instead…it was daytime, the sun looked very close and there was fire on the horizon. There was nothing around but crumbling buildings and other burnt creatures shuffling around. I quickly ducked because I didn’t want them to notice me, even if they didn’t seem to have eyes at all, I preferred not to risk it.
“I finally decided to talk to the woman, who after a while woke up and gave me a key. Now things get serious,” Jimin declares leaning forward on the table, “When I got the key the creatures started waking up as well, their groans sickening. I bolted outta the room, dude, I didn’t want to be killed! I used the key on this one door I noticed in the hallway and guess what? I ended right outside my own house! And if that wasn’t enough, when I later checked the phone, I found a shit-ton of calls and texts that I received in the span of a whole week. How is that possible? My stay would have been only a matter of a couple of days, the time to drive up there and back, but I have this hole of seven days when I remained at the hotel for an hour or two, tops.”
Jimin finishes his story, looking still on edge after narrating what he witnessed.
Yoongi stares back at him. You can’t never tell when he’s nervous or scared, with Min Yoongi. His eyes look a bit bigger, though.
“If you trust me, you should go as well, you’ll have your ass saved in the end,” the younger guy tells him in earnest, “Here, I’ll write you the address and exactly what to do once you’re there.”
Jimin fetches a paper napkin and scribbles rapidly on it. When he hands it to Yoongi, Jimin starts explaining what he just wrote along with his friend reading the notes.
“Go at night and ring the doorbell: if they let you in, you have to be sure the guard is the one I saw, or return another day--don’t worry, they don’t all have white hair, as fair as I know. If the guard is the right one, sit beside his desk and wait for 2:52 AM for his patrol. Follow him, and take a good look at the key he’ll use to open the old door to room 512, on the fifth floor. Close your eyes before entering and open them only when you hear the door closing! You don’t want to see what’s in there…As I told you before, you’ll end in this long hallway, but only one door has been splashed with paint. Ah! You’ll feel like melting, but bear with the warmth in there, you can’t do anything about it anyway.
“Once you reach the living room, don’t immediately wake the woman up, take your time to collect your thoughts or eat, if you’re so daring. When you feel ready to talk to the her, say, “Save me, Mother, please”, wait for her to wake up and hope she’ll give you the key that the guard used right away, otherwise you’ll have to give her an offer: you’ll receive a blood stained knife to cut up to four fingers, one at a time, it depends how long it’ll take for her to finally give you the right key. Grab it and run like hell, before the things at the corners fully wake up and slaughter you. Open the marked door and get ready to give explanations to your friends for a whole week of radio silence.”
Jimin leans closer, whispering conspiratorially.
“One day, an old door labeled ‘777’ will appear wherever you are: you have to open it with the key you used to escape the hotel and that you’ll have to always keep with you. Leave your family and friends behind. I don’t know where it leads to, but something bad will happen to this world and you’ll find salvation behind that door.”
Yoongi glances between the napkin and Jimin, trying to find that glint in his eyes or that quirk of his lips that means he’s feeding you with a truckload of bullshit, but Jimin’s face is totally sincere, sad and worried. This situation is batshit crazy, though: it sounds like Jimin discovered the faith in God and was now disclosing the way to escape the Apocalypse or whatever.
“…And who told you about this, uhm, ritual?” the older male asks when he regains his voice, putting the piece of paper on the table.
“Taehyung.”
Yoongi’s shoulders slump as he looks at Jimin with renovated skepticism, regretting to have almost believed him.
“He was right, man!” Jimin exclaims, then sighs because he knows Taehyung isn’t well known for being a reliable source with his frequent pranks and whatnot, and this story is totally fucked up, he can’t blame Yoongi for not believing him.
“Ok, if you don’t believe me it’s fine, I won’t force you, it’s totally understandable…but I’ll pray for you to take my advice and go to the hotel. I hope to see you on the other side of the door, Min Suga.”
He stands up. “Oh, by the way, I saw a young woman, but Taehyung mentioned an old hag, so I assume she changes appearance every time. And don’t eat the pie, or you won’t be able to run away from those monsters!”
Jimin leaves, waving a hand in goodbye and looking relatively chipper, in comparison to the rest of their meeting.
Yoongi notices Jimin has a pinkie missing.
Yoongi slides down his apartment door, breathing heavily: that little girl looked cute, but she had some powerful and malicious aura that almost petrified him. He doesn’t want to remember the burnt creatures that guarded her, he doesn’t want to think about how their red muscles were visible for the lack of skin, not to mention their empty sockets that he saw in passing but that still made him sick.
Cautiously, Yoongi peeks through the door, relieved to see the minimalistic furnishing of his place instead of the Hotel from Hell he just escaped from. Ignoring the blinking signal of the answering machine, he calls Seokjin, profusely apologizing when his friend’s hysteric shrieks allow him, and invites him over to talk.
‘777’, the battered door reads.
It’s been over a month since Yoongi last saw Jimin, so he assumes his friend has entered this same door, like he explained that memorable day many years ago.
Yoongi fishes the bronzed key he got -without losing any finger- from the inner pocket of his jacket and inserts it in the keyhole.
He hopes to see Jimin again, and Taehyung as well, and to meet with Seokjin soon.
He turns the key.