narcιѕѕιѕтιc cannιвal

wendigo - a demonic creature native to the legends of the Algonquin people in North America. It is an entity closely related to cannibalism, and is said to have been capable of possessing humans who indulged in this taboo, turning them to monsters that killed and consumed their own kind to sate their hunger. Curiously though, it is often said to appear in the form of a stag.                              what have you become?

[sxngjongxn]

"in hoping we stayed."

"Will we come back soon, Mama?" His nose felt tingly, having been pressed against the small window of the airplane for so long, though he was unbothered. He didn’t want to leave.

"You miss him, don’t you, love," Jinyi asked, voice just as soft as the way her fingers felt through his hair.

His body drooped with a hum.

Was it hope-

“Wait!”

-that led his usual grace to leave him so earnestly; to leave him nothing but stumbling steps to get from here to there? 

"You’ll see him again."

Fingers caught against the roughness of the man’s jacket and he let go immediately, but somehow it felt like a small relief. Everything else had disappeared before Jongin could reach them.

"Wait-…please," he panted, having retraced a step back now as he stared at the other’s back.

A part of him - the part Jongin wanted to smother - ticked on the clock that stilted steadily until something would happen and tell him this wasn’t true. The other piece of him, held on desperately to the memories of a warmth he’d hidden away so long ago.

Fingers danced across his ears, stilling to scratch at the base, before moving down the length of his back. There was a question - if his tail and ears were real or not - but at that moment, his mind went blank while his body flushed as those fingers pushed him closer to the boy’s chest.

Jongin, at five, couldn’t understand why he followed the warmth once it parted briefly from him a moment later. He just held on, like the fingers that interlaced with his, and prayed it would come back.

"…Minseok?"

[wyndixgo]

He had seen the boy's face from a distance - had still recognized the features that seem to have changed so little despite the years that have passed between them - but he had not acted on that recognition. How long has it been since they'd last seen one another? He'd been but a child at the time the other had walked out of his life, and the memories are vague now at best.

There's no reason why he should attempt to rekindle that connection; for all he knows, Jongin doesn't even remember him ( he wouldn't be surprised, given their age at parting ). And time has changed him for the worse in more ways than one. There is no need to draw the boy into the dark with him. Turning away from the familiar figure just across the street, Minseok continues on his way, steps a bit more hurried than before in an attempt to outrun this ghost of his past.

'Wait!' - he doesn't acknowledge the request and keeps moving, pretending not to hear the calls echoing in his wake or the sound of footsteps chasing his. Fingers grasp the back of his jacket. They don't quite pull and release their grip mere seconds later, but he halts as though compelled anyway; apparently he's not getting away that easily. Not this time.

An old, disused feeling of affection flares from somewhere deep within when he turns to face the brunette. "It's been a while since someone's called me by that name." His lips curve into the beginnings of a smile. "How are you, Jongin?"

[eyebytehq]

Normally, he would not have checked. Normally, he would not have needed them. Normally, he would not have thought to question their whereabouts ( they always were there, they always would be - that had been the assumption ).

Normally Normally Normally Things had become decidedly abnormal as of late.

His phone vibrated, once, twice, thrice - four times to count. ‘Mother’ didn’t waste time. The answer was a contradiction, simultaneously expected and not so to the man. Confusion invaded the fuzz of his mind; something’s not right ( nothing was right anymore ). Memories and facts weren’t matching up, past and present mismatched.

If the pieces of the puzzle won’t line up what kind of image do you get? Distortion. Contortion. Fractured lines and planes. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, chose not to dwell on implications he already knew to be true.

Always that same question circulating ‘bout his thoughts ( round and round we go, where you’ll stop ):what happened last night? ( nobody knows ) He shook his head, go away, tried to clear the cobwebs clinging to his brain. The phone was tossed aside, no longer of use. He saw no need to send a reply; Minseok’s message had been clear.

Yet two things had been left unsaid, two lines of text missing from the transaction - one an instruction, one an understanding: 'Do not let Jieun entice you out for playtime.' 'The one who will receive the lost items returned will not be you.'

Now all there was to do was wait.

[wyndixgo]

He leaves the office early tonight, a more pressing matter than the company's finances demanding his attention. There is no illusion in his mind when he gets into the Mercedes that this is a fruitless errand he is about to run. It's already been half a day, more than sufficient time for his 'team' to do their job - the crime scene will have been cleared out by now ( sometimes the babies were a little too good at what they did ). Yet run it he must. Just in case.

Given how meticulous their operations are, it's more likely the jacket - had there been one to begin with - will have wound up in the hands of someone else in the brood Still, best to start at the source and work his way out from there, cover all bases. He parks the car about a block down from the mouth of the alley where he'd found Chanyeol that morning, opting to make the rest of the journey by foot. Less conspicuous this way, though with how dark it's beginning to get he doubts anyone will have noticed if he'd driven all the way there.

The body had been sprawled atop some empty crates towards the back, where no street lights cast their glow, and nobody save for those who have been rejected by the rest of the world will venture. A quick inspection of the corner where the corpse had rested tells him exactly what he'd expected: there is nothing here. The cement and bricks have been wiped clean of gore, garbage and debris carefully scattered in a messy manner to imitate the surrounding filth - there are no artifacts that stand out as out of place, both a relief and a nuisance.

He pulls out his phone as he makes his way back to the car. There are three people responsible for clean-ups, and out of them only one name comes to mind as a possible candidate for being in the possession of the missing article.

[ text ] Did you pick up a coat earlier on site? [ text ] Be honest Chen.

[wyndixgo]

You're not that good a liar—          and I'm not that stupid : [ a word of caution ]

[wyndixgo]

[ text ] Hyung have you seen my front door keys? [ text ] They weren't in my coat pockets this morning.

He’s in the middle of meeting with a client when his cellphone buzzes. The sound is muffled by the wood of the desk and the various files it has been buried beneath over the course of the early day, but he hears it nonetheless. “Excuse me for a moment.” It takes some digging but eventually, he manages to procure the device in question. The message itself brings a frown to his face. Coat?

[ text ] You weren’t wearing a coat.[ text ] Not when I found you at least.

He had been the one to let Chanyeol in that morning ( out of their ‘family’, he and the girl are the only two with spares in their possessions ). This is usual to their routine, thus the notion that the main key may have gone missing had not occurred to either man at the time - it hadn’t been relevant. Now though, it most certainly is, and Xiumin makes a mental note to go back to the site after the meeting concludes, just to check. He does not recall there being a jacket left behind amongst the gore, but his mind is hardly a trustworthy ally whose account he can depend upon.

[ text ] I’ll find it and give it to you tonight.[ text ] Stay inside today.

Even if she wants to play, you must not venture out. He doesn’t send that last half, but Chanyeol is no fool - he will understand what the blonde means. Matter concluded, the phone is returned to its place in his desk, and discussion resumes where it had dropped off.

[wyndixgo]

We have no colors - dressed in black with silver tongues and ice in our veins.