I

Jimin was only fifteen when everything began. He remembered it clearly. He had been talking with his father about a concert he was going to go see with his friends on the weekend when a sudden pain had wracked his lungs. He had clutched a hand to his chest and fallen to his knees, throat constricting and fire in his chest. He had begun to cough and he felt like he could barely breathe. Everything was closing in on him, the walls, his father's arms and the blackness at the edges of his vision.

Why couldn't he breathe? Air. He needed air. He gasped for breath and clung on to his father for any form of support that he could get. His father's gentle hand had rested on his shoulder and the other had rubbed soothing circles on his back. His father had paused suddenly and Jimin looked up at him in confusion. His father was crying.

"Not you too," He had whispered, "please, anything but this. You can't do this to my son."

Jimin had felt something wet on the corners of his mouth so he had brought up his hand to wipe it off but froze when he saw the deep crimson colour streaked across his skin. He had trembled and cried, burying his face in his father's shirt. He had been terrified and thought he was about to die.

He hadn't known at the time what his father was talking about or why he was crying. He wished that he still didn't. An autoimmune disease, the doctors had said, a recessive one that was fairly rare in men.

His body was attacking itself and there was nothing he could do about it.

His parents had been devastated by the news, but Jimin felt almost numb. He hadn't been sure how to react. He had heard the name of the disease before, whenever they talked about his grandmother, and he knew that one day he could have a drastic decline in health because of it. He had simply offered his parents a shaky smile and whispered reassurance that he would be alright.

He wasn't about to let something like that kill him.

.

He was eighteen when the doctors recommended that he leave the city and live somewhere where the air was cleaner, somewhere where his lungs wouldn't have to fight off the pollution as well as his own immune system.

His parents hadn't hesitated in selling their condo and looking for a house in a small town somewhere. He had dropped out of school a few years beforehand and his mother had been homeschooling him ever since, so at least that was one less thing for them to worry about.

His parents came back from another day of house hunting with large smiles on their faces and Jimin knew that they had good news.

They showed him photos of the house they had found and of the town it belonged to. The house seemed somewhat older, but cozy and inviting. It was made of a pale stone and had a beautiful garden in the front, full of life and colour.

Jimin was a bit more wary of the town though. Every photo they had taken showed a thick layer of fog coating every building and the shadows in the alleys made him nervous. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt that something wasn't right with this place.

"Is fog supposed to be that thick?" He asked with a frown and tapped a photo of a street covered so completely in fog that it was difficult to see even a few feet into it.

"The locals said it was completely normal. Something about the weather patterns of the area." His mother replied. "Absolutely nothing to worry about."

He glanced back at the photos and was once again struck with an uneasy feeling in his gut, but stronger than before.

"We really hope you like it, considering we've already put in an offer on it." His father seemed happier than he had been in the past three years and it relaxed Jimin somewhat. It was probably just his imagination over exaggerating his nervousness. He had never lived anywhere other than Seoul, and he had only been to Busan a few times to visit relatives. It had to be his anxiety about moving to a new place that he had never been before or the preemptive feeling of missing all his friends in Seoul once he was gone.

There was only one way into town, as Jimin had found out all too quickly, and it was an uncomfortable train ride through the forest. There were no roads leading in or out and Jimin was honestly concerned about how they would get all their furniture and boxes to their new house, but his parents simply waved off his concerns and told him to relax and just enjoy the atmosphere.

He wasn't sure what atmosphere they were talking about, if he were to be perfectly honest. He felt anxious and had the uncanny feeling of being watched. He didn't like it at all. The darkness from the trees seemed to converge on the train and he couldn't erase the mental image of countless animals staring at him from within the cover of the woods.

The only good thing was that it felt like a weight was lifted and he could breathe easier. He hadn't had an episode in about a week and hoped to keep it that way.

The train slowed to a stop and pulled into the only other station on the line. Jimin followed his parents out onto the platform and took a quick glance around. The station itself wasn't in too bad of a condition, just slightly more run down than he expected. It didn't seem like it was used all that often though.

Jimin could imagine why, a fog-covered town in the middle of nowhere...

Great tourist attraction, obviously.

A man who Jimin assumed was the stationmaster stared at them curiously but never said a word. It didn't seem like they got very many visitors out here. He shyly followed his parents without meeting the man's gaze and instead focused on where he was walking and the pit that had formed in his stomach.

The bad feeling he had had before they moved was back, but much worse than it had ever been. His skin crawled with every street they passed and the feeling of being watched grew worse until every shred of self-preservation that he had was screaming at him to run away and never look back.

But he didn't.

He followed his parents through the foggy streets, lagging behind as he took in the architecture and taking note of the lack of people outside. It was strange that the only person they'd seen so far was the scowling stationmaster. Where was everyone? The town was too silent in comparison to Seoul and it unnerved him to no end.

A few minutes later they arrived at the house. It didn't seem like someplace overly special to him, but his parents liked it. He would try to like it, if only just for their sakes.

"They said there was already some furniture here." He could hear his parents talking in what he assumed was the kitchen. "Maybe in the bedroom?"

"Jimin!" His mother called.

"Yeah?" He shouted back from where he was still standing in the foyer, "What is it?"

"Can you go check upstairs to see if there are beds? They said there should be some that came with the house!"

"Yeah okay." Before he would do that, however, he first made sure to turn and lock the front door behind him. Jimin slipped his shoes off and headed up the somewhat dusty stairs to the second level. He coughed a few times as he tried to get the dust out of his lungs. Instinctively, he checked for blood.

None. Good.

He opened every door and peered into the rooms. The floor plan was decently simple, two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. The house apparently also came with beds.

"Thank god." He muttered. "I'm not sleeping on the ground ever again."

That one so-called 'camping trip' that Taehyung had insisted that they go on had been enough ground-sleeping for him.

He took care to avoid slipping as he returned downstairs to his parents. He had heard the door close while he was checking the rooms so he knew one of his parents had gone out. It made him nervous, but he did his best to hold back the feeling.

"Jimin!" His mother smiled when he entered the kitchen, "Your father just went out to buy some food, he should be back soon, assuming he doesn't get himself lost."

"Oh. Okay." He frowned, but he didn't mention the nagging sense that something was wrong. She was too enthusiastic about this for him to ruin it.

"There are beds upstairs." He confirmed, sitting down at the table. "What are we having for dinner?"

"To be honest," his mother laughed, "I have no idea. Whatever your father brings back I suppose. We should count ourselves lucky that we have appliances here already. Getting them delivered would be a nightmare."

Jimin traced his fingers lightly over the grain of the wood in the table and hesitated before asking the question that had been nagging at him ever since they had announced their intention to move.

"What made you decide on this town?" He glanced back up at her. She pursed her lips in thought.

"I think we liked the overall atmosphere of the home. It's like it called to us, you know?"

'No,' Jimin wanted to say, 'I don't know.' The only thing calling to him was his bed back in the city. He would rather live there and have a shorter lifespan than here where he felt like he would be constantly looking over his shoulder.

"Sure. I think I get what you're saying." is what he said instead.

"It's strange though." She mused, "there were a lot more people here when we came by last time. I wonder where they all went."

Jimin just shrugged. Why would he know?

"Maybe some kid is having a birthday party and invited everyone but the stationmaster because he seems like an asshole." Jimin rolled his eyes sarcastically. His mother promptly whacked him on the forehead.

"Ow! Mom, that hurt!"

"You know better than to say shit like that."

"But you just-"

"Did I say I was done?"

"No, but-"

"But? There are no buts in this family."

"Except for our ass-"

"Jimin!"

Jimin laughed at his mother's scandalized expression. Both of them were only joking and they knew it; She could out-swear a sailor if she wanted to. They sat in the kitchen and laughed for a while before drifting to other, more important topics. Obviously.

"Will we have wifi here?" Jimin rested his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on the table. "I don't think I can survive without internet."

"Jimin where's your sense of adventure?" His mother laughed and ruffled his hair. "Who needs the internet when you have nature and a new town to explore?"

"Me." Jimin deadpanned. The internet was the only way he had stayed in contact with his friends after leaving school after all. Taehyung had probably spammed his Kakao Talk so badly that it would lag at this point. And there wasn't any cell service this far into the middle of nowhere. He had already checked.

Most of his social life was over the internet and he would be damned if he just let that go without a fight.

"But without internet how will I keep up with Taehyung?"

"Text him?" His mother offered.

"Mom if you haven't noticed, we don't get service here." She pulled out her phone to check.

"Oh. You're right."

"And also if I can't talk to them, how are you going to get recipes off of Jin?"

His parents and his friend had been trading recipes since Jimin was around fourteen years old. He was in a culinary university now, and Jimin was always excited to try one of his recipes.

"I guess we will have to get wifi." She mused. "But you aren't wasting away in front of a screen, you hear me?" She stared at him accusingly.

"Well excuse me if I would rather talk with my friends than get lost in this town."

"You will go out and meet new people and that's final. It's not healthy for you to be such a recluse all the time." She crossed her arms and her gaze seemed to challenge him to answer.

"It's not healthy for me to go outside either so I guess we're stuck." He shrugged. His mother scoffed and was about to retort when the door opened.

"I'm back," his father called after he had closed the door behind himself, "there's only one grocery store in this town, can you believe it?" He walked into the kitchen and set down the bags of groceries. It seemed that he had only bought enough for dinner and breakfast the next morning since they could always go out and get more the next day. His mother kissed his father quickly and took the groceries from the table and dragged her husband with her over to the fridge and stove.

The dinner wasn't fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it would do until they got more settled in. Jimin's father pulled out his phone after dinner and frowned.

"Honey, I'm not getting any cell service."

"We know." Jimin and his mother chorused with a shared glance of amusement.

"Please tell me we're getting wifi"

Jimin giggled when his mother rolled her eyes.

"Fine," She groaned, "since you both apparently can't function without it."

After they had finished, Jimin put his hand up to stop his parents from doing the dishes themselves.

"I've got it tonight," he told them, "just go relax or something."

"Are you sure?" His father asked, putting a hand on Jimin's forehead "Are you feeling alright?" He swatted away the hand and tried to smile.

"Just a little cold." He admitted, "the water will warm me up. Besides, there aren't enough dishes to bother with the dishwasher."

His parents exchanged a confused glance but then shrugged and left him to do the dishes on his own. He filled the sink and started washing the plates when he shuddered violently.

Something felt off.

Wrong.

The shadows in the corners seemed darker than before.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Even the air was still.

He let out a yelp when the warm water suddenly increased in temperature and pulled his hands out. His eyes flickered down. He'd left the hot water running.

He blinked and looked around again.

The shadows weren't dark and he could hear his parent's voices coming from upstairs.

It was just him being paranoid, he reasoned. Zoning out and daydreaming.

Jimin turned the tap off after adding a bit of cool water so he wouldn't burn himself and finished the dishes, leaving them in the drying rack to air dry overnight.

With a final glance over his shoulder, he left the kitchen, doing his best to ignore the foreboding feeling he had. Jimin said goodnight to his parents before heading into his room and sitting on his bed. He had a headache but that could just be from stress. He laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling to try to think.

What happened earlier was all paranoia, he tried to convince himself, it was nothing to worry about.

No matter how many times he told himself that he couldn't believe it. He didn't know what it was, but something was wrong with this town. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to find out what.

Jimin had been sleeping comfortably for a few hours, and only woke up when he felt the need to use the washroom. He stumbled down the hall and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He yawned widely and rubbed his eyes to try to wake up enough so he wouldn't end up crashing into a wall or tripping over his own feet.

It was on his way back that he heard it.

If the kitchen had been too still, too quiet, then the hall was the opposite.

Muted whispers filled the air, speaking in a guttural language that he couldn't place. The shadows seemed to creep along the walls and writhe in a way that shouldn't be possible.

He held his breath in a futile attempt to avoid being noticed by whatever it was that was there. His chest tightened and he coughed loudly. The whispers stopped. The movement stopped.

Everything stopped.

All at once the shadows peeled off the walls and shot towards him quicker than anything he had ever seen before. Jimin gasped and ran back into the washroom, locking the door behind him. He breathed heavily as he heard multiple thumps on the door that sounded like something crashing into it.

He pushed against the door with all his strength to try to keep it shut. The noises stopped after a few moments and Jimin relaxed slightly but didn't stop pushing against the door.

He wasn't going to take any chances.

He stayed there for a few minutes, silent. Listening for any sign of whatever was out there.

Nothing.

He let go of the door and stood up straight before freezing. His leg felt strange, like it was being compressed. He slowly shifted his gaze to his feet.

There was a shadowy tendril wrapped around his leg and was slowly creeping upwards. Jimin shrieked and tried to pull free. His foot wouldn't budge. It was like it was stuck to the floor and there was nothing he could do.

The shadows never slowed in their ascent up his body, curling around his legs and squeezing, wrapping around his waist and torso, forcing his arms up and above his head.

His muscles trembled as he tried in vain to move even a millimeter.

More shadows slipped through the cracks around the door and snaked across the walls. His legs were forced to turn him around and step backward so his back was pressed against the door. The tendrils wrapped around him, pinning him in place. A few peeled off the walls and moved slowly towards his face. He struggled and tried to turn his head away but the tendril wrapped around his neck and chin was like iron. He let out a whimper as they got closer and closer and closed his eyes.

The tendril touched his cheek gently. Almost like a caress, even. They began tracing his face and mapping out his features. He kept his eyes and mouth shut and held back from making any noise.They brushed his lips leaving behind a tingling sensation and he shivered. The tendril jerked away as if burned and he hesitated before opening his eyes. It was poised in the air about twenty centimeters away from him and wasn't moving.

He stared at it and swallowed nervously. What was this thing planning to do?

He held his breath and didn't move

The whispers came back, still in the guttural tongue, but there seemed to be a second voice mixed in with the first. A third joined, then a fourth.

They intensified once more and his head pounded as it began to sound like millions of voices crying out at once.The voices seemed to come to some kind of decision and the tendril approached his face again. It brushed his bangs out of his eyes and he nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep watching it.

The whispers slowly vanished until only one voice was left.

It growled at him and he didn't know what to make of it. It was like it was trying to speak to him and tell him something. He dared to speak, though only in a terrified whisper.

"What?"

It repeated the growl again.

"I don't understand." He whimpered.

"Y-you." The voice began. Jimin wasn't sure where it was coming from. The shadows didn't have mouths and he couldn't tell the direction. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.

"You... Must... Leave... Us..." The voice spat out menacingly.

Jimin opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when every tendril tightened around his body.

His throat felt like it was being crushed as he gasped for oxygen. He struggled against the restraints but they only got tighter.

His vision began to blur and he coughed violently. The edges of his vision were going dark and he managed to let out a whimper, spitting out the blood that had come up from his lungs.

They tightened even more and Jimin could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness as he choked.

His blood pounded in his ears loudly and he felt a tear slip down his cheek. He tried to focus on breathing. Inhaling. Exhaling. He needed oxygen. With every breath, the tendrils squeezed more.

Until there were no more breaths.

The world went dark.