❛ ♠ yongguk's flat｡

((tw: vague gore, burn victim, horror elements, alcoholism and the subsequent consequences of it, sleep paralysis demons))

Like so many other nights, Yongguk ended up in a bar rather than going home after he was done teaching classes. If he always drank alone at his apartment, it became harder to reinforce the delusion that he didn't have a problem. Yet if he went to the bar then he could pretend it was a special occasion. Just a way to unwind after a hard day's work. The witch ordered his typical drink - yamazaki whiskey on the rocks - and felt the incurable plague of existential dread immediately ebb as the first sip burned a trail down his throat. Of course, even that would ease up the more he knocked back.

When the rest of the world was a pleasant blur of motion around him and he could no longer recall how many drinks he'd had, someone sidled up to him at the bar. Though Yongguk had noticed, he kept his gaze fixed to the ice shifting in his whiskey glass and hoped his obvious disinterest was enough to keep someone from daring to talk to him. Unfortunately, the person at his side seemed to lack both common sense and a desire for self preservation as they leaned closer so that their shoulder brushed against his. "The next one's on me." They insisted presumptuously and Yongguk went rigid. Not because of the closeness or the offer, but because he knew that voice and he'd long since resigned himself to the fact that he'd never hear it again.

Before he could think better of it and take stock of the sudden feeling of dread which overcame him, Yongguk turned to look at the presence next to him. The first thing he noticed was the eyes. Not the same kind, green ones he was familiar with, but dull, glassy orbs that, against all reason, he could /feel/ staring back. Yongguk shoved himself away so violently that the barstool lurched on the two rear legs and should have toppled over. Yet for a brief moment, it was like he was suspended in the air, falling in slow motion, and all he could do was stare at the marred form of what was once his friend. What skin remained on their once serene face was shriveled and blackened, curling up like the edges of burnt parchment and revealing meat and bone... But there was still enough for him to discern the twisted smirk on their lips.

Then the floor was rushing up at him and the witch tightly closed his eyes to brace for a hard impact, his arms coming up to shield the back of his head.

Yet it never came.

When he peeked open his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, cast in darkness. A wave of relief washed over him immediately as he laid there and slowly willed away the lingering memory of that thing's warped amusement with steady breaths. It was short lived, though, because when he tried to move - just lift his hand to brush his annoyingly unruly bangs away from his sweat dampened forehead - nothing happened. He couldn't move an inch. Panic sunk its vise-like claws into his heart, but there was no outlet for it. No crying or screaming... All Yongguk could do was take stock of that fear and hopelessness before casting it aside.

He had to steel his mind and think rationally. Dark eyes scanned the room like it was something foreign now, but everything was as he'd left it when he went to sleep. Even the bottle of liquor stood half empty on the nightstand, next to the clock which told him it was just after three in the morning. Yet he couldn't shake the sense of... /wrongness/ that permeated the very air. That gut wrenching unease was something he knew all too well from his forays beyond the veil... Into the Realm of the Dead. Whenever he ventured there, he was overwhelmed with this feeling of displacement. It was like a crushing weight bore down on him and every breath was a struggle. If asked, he couldn't liken it to anything except being buried alive, even though he had no actual experience of it.

There was no getting accustom to the feeling, but Yongguk had learned how to disassociate his mind from his body over time. It was the only way to really move around in a land where mortals weren't supposed to tread. The body remained behind, but the soul stretched between planes. He had to move with thoughts rather than the sluggish bumbling of limbs. Had to convince himself that breathing wasn't a necessity in spite of lungs screaming for air. Something he was always aware of, though, was the halting... agonizing... thump of his heart barely beating and tethering him to the world from whence he'd come. It was the only thread he had to connect him to reality.

His heart pounded now. A metallic taste washed over his tongue from how hard it thrummed. This was the world he belonged in, but the other was bleeding into it like a vile, invasive weed choking the life out of everything. Yongguk had to root it out. Though all seemed normal, the witch's eyes finally settled on a particular corner of the room where the shadows seemed... dense. They rippled unnaturally and as he lay there, helpless, with no other recourse except to stare, he began to hear hushed, unintelligible voices from within the darkness. Like they sensed an audience, the chorus of whispers built into an ominous, maddening crescendo and the shadows seemed to swell, engulfing more of the room. It swallowed up everything, encroaching on where he lay, and Yongguk could finally make out some of the words spat at him from the void.

/You know what you did./

/Burn./

/Murderer./

A whimper caught in the paralyzed witch's throat as the undulating darkness reached the foot of the bed and he could see it for what it was. Ebony tendrils reached out, forming fingers that clenched into the blanket to slowly drag itself out of the darkness. It looked... disturbingly human, though it shifted jerkily, and Yongguk could hear its hoarse breathing as it struggled to tear itself free from its shadowy prison. Or at least that's what he thought it was at first. Until the creature tilted its head at an odd angle to look up at him and he realized it was laughter. Wheezing, maniacal chuckles poured from a mouth stretched into a wide, unsettling smile as the same opaque, vacant eyes from his nightmare fixed on him...

It crawled up the bed, its weight oppressive as it draped itself over his legs. Yongguk could feel its dark claws digging into him through the covers, but the thing ignored his muffled sounds of distress and moved with a single-minded determination to overcome. He couldn't run even if he wanted to... Would this be how his story ended? Perhaps it was deserved after everything that he'd done, but Yongguk still wasn't ready. Not if this was what waited for him. Shadowy fingers wrapped around his neck and the creature hovered over him with that deranged smile, its dead eyes unblinking.

The face that he stared into, the last thing he would ever see, was his own. As the edges of his vision began to darken, all he could hear was that infernal laughter... It tore itself from him, bubbling hysterically from deep in his chest, and echoed in the darkness that swallowed him up.

───

Yongguk jerked up in bed and heaved in a ragged gasp like a man resurfacing from the depths of the ocean. One hand came up to claw at his throat as air achingly filled his lungs, but he didn't have time to catch his breath as he was consumed with the need to flee. To run so far away until he couldn't anymore. His limbs moved before the haze of sleep was even clear from his mind and he threw himself out of the bed. Evidently he had been tossing and turning because his legs had become caught in the blankets and the witch was sent sprawling to the floor.

The pain of his shoulder colliding with the wood didn't deter him and he scrambled to his feet, his wild eyes barely perceiving what was around him. Not that he needed to. He lurched forward, careening into the door frame, and ignored the sharp stinging in his boney knees as he fell to his them in front of the toilet just in time for his stomach to rebel against him. His hands shook as he clung to the porcelain bowl through the hacking, dry heaves and once /whatever/ was purged from the deepest pit of his soul, Yongguk finally collapsed onto the cool tile. And as the first thought that crossed his mind was of finishing that whiskey waiting for him on his nightstand, a soft... scratchy... mirthless chuckle tumbled from his lips.

This was why he drank.